The Dragon Slayer's Queen
the dragon snapped, “You don’t. You outlast it. Try to channel, and you’ll crack your own skull. Hold the power, guide it, let it burn itself out through you.”
Easy, Zayla thought, and almost laughed.
The light outside the sanctuary reached critical mass; the stained-glass window overwhelmed inward, showering them all with diamond-tipped snow. Through the blizzard, Zayla saw the prophecy in living color: two armies marching toward the sanctuary, one boiling up the valley in banners of black and flame, the other pouring from the city in a tide of blue and silver. In between-strung between, pain like a wire waiting to spark—stood Zander, the Slayer General, not dead after all, his body restore