Page 152 of Merciless Is My Crown

Lyrae lounged with her back to a wall, looking bored with the proceedings. But she dipped her head as we passed, a ghost of a smile on her face. “My queen,” she said, and I couldn’t tell if it was a taunt or a greeting.

“Remember, nothing’s changed with that one,” Raz murmured, his hand resting on the small of my back. “Never turn your back on her, Anaria. Never.”

The darkened alleys and winding streets of Southwell, lit only by barrels of blue flame, reflected on the storefronts like rippling water. Cloaked figures scuttled in the darkness, but there was no sign of a crowd…or an uprising.

Raz and I traded a look before he sighed.

“I suppose I’d be wasting my breath by asking you to stay behind the barricade?”

“You just did.” I raised my brows. “Do you really think I would allow someone like him to control any part of this city?”

Torin and the others arrived, Cosimo outfitted in an even fancier robe than before, velvet this time with intricate gold stitching and…I squinted in the dark. “Are those gemstones sewn into the design?”

“I found a very talented seamstress who does good work on short notice. She’s making me one in red as well.” He leaned closer and winked. “That one will have rubies.”

Torin rolled her eyes, but her smile was pure adoration. “Cosimo has always enjoyed the finer things in life. Haven’t you, love?”

“You know me too well, Tor.” The astrologer leaned in for a kiss while Zephryn headed toward the soldiers disassembling the flimsy barricade made of empty wooden crates and two wagons turned on their sides.

“And here we’re all wearing the same stinking clothes we’ve been in for weeks,” Raziel complained. “Why don’t we have a seamstress, oh queen of all things?”

“Because we’re busy building roads and feeding our citizens, that’s why,” I told him tartly, resolving to ask Sophie to find Martine. I’d kill for another of those leather outfits that were so comfortable. And commissioning her to make everyone else some decent clothes instead of…I wrinkled my nose at Tristan.

The blood-soaked uniform of a dead soldier.

And I was tired of my ill-fitting boots and the constant blisters.

There was a flash of green light, an explosion loud enough to blow out my eardrums, then the bodies of soldiers blew past, hurled through the air like paper dolls. When the smoke cleared, one was dead, the other grunting in pain, his leg bent at an unnatural angle. Raziel laid his hands on the survivor, covering him with a glow of healing magic and dragging him behind a building.

While Zorander ordered his soldiers into position, I stripped off my cloak and tied back my hair.

“Looks like there’s a wall of magic hidden behind the wooden barricade. Spelled to kill anyone who tries to cross.” Cosimo sent a tendril of power toward the slight distortion in the air, and light spiderwebbed across the now-visible barrier, stretching across the street, reaching higher than the roofs.

“Trubahn’s handiwork, reinforced by some lesser magic.”

“Can you get through it?” Zorander’s face was a mask of fury when he looked at the dead soldier covered by a cloak. “I’d like to show him what happens when he touches my men.”

“This is a trap.” Tavion surveyed the dark, deserted street, the burning barrels, and the wall of magic keeping us out. “There are a thousand places to hide, and every intersection is a potential ambush. Now that the magic’s back…”

We traded a look.

He didn’t have to say anything else. The magic wielders in Southwell would have gotten a boost to their power. They could be stronger than us, and they wouldn’t play by the rules, especially if Trubahn saw an opportunity to overthrow a new, untried queen.

One moment Simon was beside Torin, the next, he took flight, soaring over the roofs and disappearing into the night, while Cosimo leaned down and gathered his clothes off the street.

“Simon will report back when he returns. Tell us where they are hiding.” Zeph frowned at the still-glowing barrier, eyes reflecting the blue flames.

No, that was Zephryn’s own fire burning up his throat as he transformed.

“Get down,” Raz roared, yanking me backward as Zeph shifted into his dragon, filling the entire street with his scaly bulk, long black tail lashing back and forth.

We ducked as the air overhead exploded in a shower of sparks, droplets of fire raining down over us, the street suddenly covered with pools of burning liquid.

One glance revealed Zeph was engulfed in flames, heat searing my face before I remembered to throw up a shield of magic before the skin peeled off our bodies. Heat tore through the air and fire crawled up the fronts of the nearest shops, sending sparks into the dark sky.

“Fucking dragonfire,” Zorander snarled, taking the assault way more personally than the rest of us. “I am going to fucking kill that mage with my bare hands.”

Zephryn’s roar preceded a blast of fire hot enough to sear my cheeks, and Trubahn’s barrier shattered apart. Then the dragon broke through, lumbering down the street, dragging those consuming flames with him, leaving a trail of burning footprints behind.

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