The Shadow Queen (Ravenspire, #1)(29)
The thought of losing Leo galvanized her into action. Clenching her gloved hands, she eased back a step and forced herself to wall off the fear that flooded her. Fear would cause her to make a mistake, and making a mistake now would cost her everything.
She tore her eyes from Irina and stared at the dragon that stood still as a statue facing the crowd of silent, vacant-eyed villagers. Magic burned her palms, and she had to work to breathe past the band of panic that wanted to crush her. What was a dragon doing with Irina?
As Lorelai backed up another step, she had the sinking feeling that it had been a mistake rescuing the Eldrians from the mob of peasants. There was nothing she could do to change that now. Nothing but run, hide, and get Leo out of Nordenberg alive—with Gabril’s medicine safely stowed in her pack.
“Who is your rightful queen?” Irina demanded of the crowd. Her voice had a cruel edge. It was as if the Irina who’d smiled so warmly at Lorelai years ago had never existed.
“You are our rightful queen,” the crowd answered, their voices blending together in a singsong rhythm that made the hair on the back of Lorelai’s neck rise.
Her fingertips began to itch, and fire burned through her veins as she kept backing away, moving toward the corner of the bakery so she could hide against its south-facing wall, just out of the queen’s sight, while she figured out how to get to the apothecary’s without getting caught. A quick glance at the roof showed her that it was empty. Either Leo was lying flat to stay out of sight—unlikely, since he knew his sister was in danger—or he was on his way down to the street to help her.
“And what about Princess Lorelai?” Irina’s voice crackled with power.
“Death to traitors! Death to Lorelai!” The crowd’s voices rose to a fevered pitch, and Lorelai shrank as the chant echoed throughout the streets until it seemed she was surrounded by a thousand people screaming for her demise.
Whatever magic Irina was working, Lorelai and Leo needed to outrun it as fast as they could.
And they would. Once they had medicine for Gabril.
She took another two steps back, moving with silence rather than speed. All the speed in the world wouldn’t save her if she attracted the queen’s attention. Her pulse beat a frantic tempo against her skin—the powerful heat of the magic in her blood making it hard to think. And the bone-deep fear of Irina that filled Lorelai’s nightmares in the dead of night had become a monster that threatened to swallow her whole now that she was seconds away from coming face-to-face with the queen in the broad light of day.
She was within four steps of the bakery’s corner when Irina whipped a hand into the air, instantly silencing the crowd. In the sudden quiet, the soft shush of Lorelai’s steps was faint but clear. Irina’s shoulders stiffened, and she turned to look over her shoulder.
Lorelai twisted toward the bakery and lunged for cover. Her boot caught the uneven edge of a cobblestone, and she fell forward. She rolled with the fall, but she was off balance. Before she could correct her trajectory, she hurtled past the corner of the building, just out of sight of the queen, and slammed into the wall.
Instantly she leaped to her feet, her breath caught in her throat, her hands suddenly shaking. She’d made a mistake.
Irina was going to do everything in her power to make sure Lorelai paid for that mistake with her life.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are.” Irina’s voice was sugar-coated knives.
Desperately, Lorelai scanned the nearest buildings. Where was Leo? They needed to hide before Irina or one of her guards rounded the corner.
Or, heaven help Lorelai, the dragon.
“How many of you are hiding from me? Come out, and you will face a merciful queen.” The sugar disappeared from Irina’s voice. “Or, if you refuse, I will find you, and you will face a judgment more terrible than any you can imagine.”
Another canary whistle, this time from half a block back down the street she’d already traveled.
Lorelai started running.
She flew past the tailor’s shop, her boots barely touching the cobblestones beneath her.
“Find them!” Irina’s voice rang with authority. Instantly Lorelai heard the rough scrape of talons against the street.
The dragon was coming.
She ran faster.
The cordwainer’s shop held a few displays of her finest leather shoes, fit for the upper gentry or the Kiffens themselves. The tools of her trade lay neatly on her workbench, but Leo wasn’t there.
Lorelai’s pulse thundered as loud as her thoughts as she raced past the cordwainer’s and closed in on the smithy. There would be a brick forge. A table for his tools. Nothing they could hide behind for long. Nothing that could save them from what was coming.
Her hands felt like they were coated in fire beneath her gloves. Her breath was a desperate sob in her chest. Where was Leo?
Any second now, the dragon would round the corner and see her, and it wouldn’t matter how fast she ran or where she hid. He’d find her. Her only hope was to get out of sight and pray that without being given her specific scent beforehand, the combined scents of everyone who’d been on the main street today would require the dragon to search every building.
She raced toward the blacksmith’s doorway, her ears straining to hear sounds of pursuit past the thudding of her heart and the ragged tear of her breathing.
A hand reached out of the smithy’s doorway, snatched her coat, and hauled her inside.