Rise of Fire

by Sophie Jordan

  I curled my grip around her fingers, attempting to peel them loose from my arm. She tightened her hold, hanging on with a death grip.

  “What about you?” she whispered, turning her face until our noses practically touched, our lips brushing with each word spoken.

  I bit back the response that I didn’t matter, that I was already lost. It would give her no comfort. It might very well feed into panic, and I needed her to feel calm. She couldn’t think or defend herself if she was panicked, and above all I needed her alert and ready to protect herself. “As long as you are well, as long as you are alive . . . thriving . . . then I am well. I will be with you always.”

  Guards took hold of my arms. My calm acceptance fled. I resisted. Straining toward her, I grabbed her face. Ducking, I stole one last kiss from her lips, hard and swift. Something to take and keep with me.

  Tears skipped unchecked down her cheeks as she clung to my wrists, trying to keep my hands on her face. Trying to keep me. “No, no.”

  “This is nauseating,” Maris’s voice called out, dripping venom.

  “Stop! Stop it! Don’t take him!” Luna’s hands slipped from my wrists as they pulled me away.

  A single guard stepped in front of her, holding her back from coming after me.

  They dragged me across the chamber. The king stood on the threshold, smiling. The guards paused with me before him. “I do hope you last a long time in my dungeon, Prince Fowler. I should enjoy very much watching you battle in the pit.”

  I forced a smile, matching his chilling grin with one of my own. He frowned slightly at the sight of it, and that gave me immense satisfaction. Let him worry. Let him see the real me. No more pretending and acting like someone other than myself. “Don’t worry,” I promised. “I’ll be around for a long time.” I nodded once with promise, fully meaning it. “We’ll be meeting again.”

  His smile returned then, hair-shrouded lips peeling back over yellowed teeth. “I admire your temerity, boy.” He chuckled. “It reminds me of myself.”

  “You and I are nothing alike. I never forced a girl to do anything she didn’t want to.”

  His smile vanished. “You think you are so much better than I am.”

  “I don’t think it. I know I am.” One of the guards landed a blow directly to my stomach. I bent at the waist from the force. Luna cried out.

  “Let’s see how you fare in another week, boy. Something tells me you won’t be nearly so cocky.”

  I forced a grin. “I just might surprise you.”

  “Doubtful.” He sneered and flicked his hand toward the door in dismissal. “Take him to the dungeon.”

  They yanked me out of the chamber and pulled me down the corridor so fast my feet could hardly gain purchase.

  Footsteps rushed behind us. Maris caught up with us, holding up her lush blue skirts, her face flushed a splotchy red as she planted herself in front of us. The guards stopped lest they run her over.

  “Fowler,” she snarled, her words flying like daggers. “You should have loved me. You should have married me.”

  Maybe I should have felt some sympathy for her, but one look at her bitter expression and she reminded me of her father. She was spoiled and shallow. She wished me in the dungeon. As if to confirm this, she added, “Make friends with the rats; maybe they’ll keep you warm.”

  She fell back, and I was glad for that. I didn’t want to see her face anymore or hear her words. I wanted to take the memory of Luna with me. Her voice. Her kiss. Her love.

  I meant what I’d said to Tebald. This wasn’t over. I was going to be around for a long time. I would be seeing the king again, and the next time there would be no armed guards between us.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Luna

  AS FOWLER WAS dragged away, I crushed all evidence of my tears. I couldn’t look weak. It would be up to me to escape—up to me to get Fowler out of the dungeon. For a moment the realization rattled me, but then I remembered all I’d done up until now. It couldn’t be any harder than infiltrating a dwellers’ nest, and I had done that before.

  Squaring my shoulders, I faced the king. “Spare his life. I beg you.” The words choked me, begging him for anything, but I managed to get them out.

  Fabric rustled. “Leave us,” Tebald announced to his men.

  I bit my lip, squashing the impulse to call them back as they marched out of my chamber, leaving us alone.

  Tebald’s slippered feet padded over stone, advancing on me with measured steps. He brushed the side of my face with pudgy fingertips. I jerked from the touch but held my ground. “You plead so prettily, Princess Luna. I quite like this look on you. It’s softer. You’re usually so standoffish. I’m accustomed to women who are more accommodating. You’ll have to remember that. I have expectations.”

  Because they had no choice. He was the king.

  He continued, “Your mother was the last person to ever deny me. She was close to accepting my suit until she met your father.”

  I suppressed a shiver. I may not have known my mother, but Perla and Sivo had told me so much of her that the idea of this man almost with her made me slightly queasy. I pressed a hand to my stomach, fighting off the nausea.

  Tebald continued in scathing tones, “Once your father began courting her, she never looked at me again.” His voice turned bemused here. “It’s gratifying to have you here . . . subject to me. It’s funny how life comes full circle.”

  “What will it take?” I lifted my chin a notch, determined to try to appeal to him. “What do you want?”

  He tsked. “You know the answer to that, my clever girl.”

  “We can unite our kingdoms without me having to marry you. We can forge an alliance—”

  He laughed harshly. “Such a child. Do you know how many alliances have been forged between Lagonia and Relhok over the generations? They never last. Uniting our two houses through marriage is the only way.” His voice sobered and became something dark and severe. “You know what I want.”

  My eyes started to burn and it hurt to breathe. I sucked in a deep breath that felt like razors going down my throat. I fought to keep up my chin. “I do.”

  “You can consent,” he said, his voice all lightness, fingers back to grazing my cheek. “Go along gracefully like a good girl, and Fowler lives. Fight me, and I win. It just won’t be pleasant for you.”

  He would have his way in this. There was no stopping him. Not if I wanted to save Fowler. I shuddered at the idea of Fowler in that pit.

  No matter what I decided, no matter what I did, Tebald won. But whether Fowler suffered and died . . . that decision was entirely mine.

  That left me only one choice.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Fowler

  IT TURNED OUT Maris was right about the rats, except they didn’t keep me warm. They scampered in dark corners, edging close with their hungry squeaks and twitching whiskers until I lashed out with my boot and sent them fleeing.

  I was given a cell to myself, excluding the rats, of course, but that didn’t stop other prisoners from calling out to me through the bars, jeering taunts about my fine garments and clean boots and how quickly I was going to die down here. I laughed once, hard and mirthless, my head lolling against the slimy stone wall. I should have died a long time ago. Still, I was here. I glanced around my cell, trying to convince myself that I was going to get out of here.

  Time was lost inside these walls.

  I stared into the dark, my mind wandering, groping through the blackness, bumping into the hope that I would get out of here. Survive yet again. Take Luna and run. Be free. I could have been down here an hour or a day. It was impossible to tell if midlight came or passed. The eclipse could have even ended. I wouldn’t know.

  Footsteps thudded outside my cell. I looked up, one leg stretched out, one bent to my chest. Chasan’s face arrived, illuminated by the light from a torch he was carrying.

  I chuckled roughly. “Ah, come to delight in my accommodations? Should have expected as muc
h.”

  Chasan propped a shoulder against the bars, his head angling to the side. There was a stillness about him that hinted toward violence held barely in check. “I’m not much in the mood to delight in anything.”

  “Ah, that’s right. Your father betrayed you? Didn’t he?” I flexed my fingers around my knee. “Can’t say I don’t know how that feels. Pull up a cell. We can commiserate.”

  “He’s going to make you wish for death, you know.” His voice rang flatly, as if he were remarking on the weather. “He’ll keep you alive for weeks, months, maybe longer. Starve you. Torture you. Make you play for him in his pits. If you sicken, he’ll nurse you along just enough to keep you alive.”

  I nodded once, envisioning the scene well. I knew men like Tebald. My own father was of the same ilk. It was Chasan I wasn’t certain about. Who he was . . . what he was. What he wanted here. With me. I couldn’t say. I didn’t have a read on him.

  Chasan leaned in, closing his fingers around the bar. “You say the word, and I’ll end it for you.”

  I stared at his shadowed features. “Are you offering to kill me? How generous of you.”

  “It’d be a favor.”

  I chuckled. “That right? Because we’ve been such good friends.”

  “Just say the word at any time. I’ll see it’s done. I don’t enjoy torturing people. This world is ugly enough.”

  Silence fell between us, crackling with tension. This world was ugly, but it wasn’t hopeless. I wasn’t giving up yet. People clung to the belief that the eclipse would end because according to legend it had happened before. It had ended before. Mankind had survived it and would again. Why couldn’t those survivors be Luna and me?

  “You really want to do me a favor?” I asked. “You could let me out of this cell. Let me take Luna and go.”

  It was his turn to laugh. I watched him through the bars as he shook his head. “I can’t do that.”

  “Right.” I clenched my teeth. “Your favors only extend so far. What about Luna? How are you going to help her?” I knew he wanted to. I just had to persuade him that he could.

  Chasan looked away, staring at some point in the darkness. “I can’t go against my father.”

  “Your feelings for her were real,” I continued. “They are real. You can’t fool me. You liked her. You still do. You thought the two of you could have been good together. Maybe even happy? You believed that.” I shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe that could have happened someday . . . but your father killed that possibility. Didn’t he?”

  Maybe, years from now, she would forget me. Or at least look back on me, on us, as something that existed in a dream. A whim of youth when we came together and helped keep each other going. As bitter as that was to swallow, it was better than envisioning her with Tebald. I could see her with Chasan, standing in sunlight, surrounded by children.

  I could face the pit. I could die with that image burning in my mind and be content.

  Chasan shook his head. “I don’t know—”

  “You’ll let your father have her? He’ll break her.” My voice grew thick as I envisioned this. “Bit by bit, he will destroy all that she is until there’s nothing left of her.” Chasan sighed, and I took that sound as encouragement to keep talking. I let go of my knee and leaned forward. “If you don’t want to free me, then just let her go. She can survive on her own out there.” I gestured. “You just have to make it so that she can slip out of the castle.”

  Chasan’s gaze shot back to mine. “It’s not that simple.”

  “It is. It is that simple. Give her a chance. You know you want to.”

  Chasan let go of the bars and stepped back as if needing distance from me and all that I was asking him to do. “Offer still stands. Let me know if you want me to spare you.” Turning, he walked away stiffly, disappearing into the darkness, leaving me to my cold cell.

  I sat there alone, stewing in my thoughts, wondering at what point any of this could have been avoided. It all seemed so inevitable. I had come full circle.

  Years ago, I had sat in a cell, helpless as my father took Bethan’s life. It felt like I was living through the same nightmare again. Only this time it wasn’t Bethan. It was Luna.

  The pain, the fear . . . it was different. Worse.

  A pair of guards came by. Unlocking my cell door, they entered the dank space and tossed in a bucket of soupy slop. It tipped over, the swill spilling onto the floor.

  “Eat up, prince. You’ll need your strength when it comes time for your turn in the pit.” The guard laughed and kicked me savagely, for the sheer pleasure of it. Grabbing the bucket, I flung it at him, spraying soup through the air. The bucket knocked him in the face, sending him crashing to the ground with a cry.

  I sprang to my feet and launched myself at the other guard, beyond rage. I couldn’t help Luna. Maybe I couldn’t even help myself. Perhaps this was really it—the end—with me rotting in this dungeon, emerging only when it was time to fight dwellers for the amusement of Tebald and his nobles.

  But I could do this. In this moment, I could inflict pain.

  I pummeled at him, swinging my fists, bone striking bone, skin breaking, warm blood flowing. Mine. His. It didn’t matter. It was release.

  I hit and hit, roaring until two guards pulled me off. They turned on me then, beating me with hot, spit-flying curses. Boots. Fists. I took it all, curling into a ball on the moldy stone floor. I took every blow they dealt, absorbing the pain, welcoming it because it paled beside the agony of losing Luna, leaving her with Tebald. I grunted, jerking from the volley of fists and boots until my world faded to nothing.

  THIRTY

  Luna

  I WAS LEFT alone in my chamber. It seemed forever that I paced, my pulse racing at my throat as I thought about Fowler stuck in that dungeon and my impending wedding to Tebald.

  A maid came, as always, to help ready me for bed. I sent her away and went through the motions myself. I didn’t want the company. Lying in the center of the massive bed, I surrendered to the tears I’d held back in front of Tebald. Once they ran out, the numbness crept in.

  I wiped my cheeks dry, sniffing loudly in the cavernous silence of my chamber. Tears were weakness. I was alive. And because of my agreement with Tebald, Fowler would live, too.

  I inhaled a shuddery breath. I could do this. I could live this life. It wasn’t the one I’d planned for myself, but it could be worse. People were dying without hope, without friends or loved ones, without having ever known love. I could have been one of them, and yet I wasn’t. I’d always have that.

  Any time things became too unbearable I only had to think of Fowler alive and well somewhere out there. Maybe in Allu. A wobbly smile shook my lips. That would be enough to get me through.

  I stilled at the sound of soft voices murmuring outside my door. I knew Tebald had stationed two guards at my door, but they had been silent for the last several hours since he’d left me.

  My heart seized in my chest as the door creaked open, and I remembered Fowler’s ominous words to me, how Tebald could claim me now even without the formality of the wedding.

  I swallowed back a whimper and clutched the bedcovers at my throat. Propping myself up on my elbows, I turned my face in the direction of the door and the individual standing there. I felt his gaze on me across the length of the room.

  I stretched my senses, trying to detect his identity, his intent. I knew it wasn’t Fowler. Even if he wasn’t in the dungeon, even if I hadn’t lost him, I would know him. I would recognize his presence.

  The door clicked shut and steps sounded toward me, each one making my heart plunge deeper into my twisting stomach. I sat up, covers pooling around my waist. It was definitely a he, and he was coming for me. The bed dipped slightly with the weight of one knee.

  I scurried backward, my pulse a wild beat at my neck, threatening to burst from my skin as I pressed myself into the ornate headboard. I opened my mouth to scream. A hand slammed over my mouth, forcing my head back, silenci
ng me. I kicked and punched but it was useless.

  His weight pinned me, filling me with impotent rage. I freed one arm and sent my fist rocking into his jaw.

  A familiar voice cursed and the hand over my mouth loosened.

  “Chasan? What are you doing here?”

  “Apparently getting my jaw broken.”

  I shoved at him, scrambling out from under him. “It’s what you deserve.”

  “Even if I’m here to help you?”

  I stilled, my heart stalling for a moment. “You’ll help me? What about Fowler?”

  He sighed, shifting his weight. “I suppose I can’t help you without helping him, too. You’ve made that fairly clear.”

  “You’ll help us,” I repeated as if I needed that agreement from him written in blood.

  “That’s right. Get yourself dressed and we’ll go get him. Unless you want to stick around and marry my father.”

  “No,” I gasped, springing from the bed. I started toward the armoire, but stopped, turned back around, and launched myself at Chasan. I hugged him tightly. “Thank you. I knew you were different.”

  “Yeah. My father has been complaining about that all my life,” he grumbled, his breath lost in my hair.

  I pulled back and touched his face, brushing my fingers along his cheek. “That’s a good thing. Never be like him, Chasan. Someday you’ll rule this country. Lagonia needs you.”

  “Yes. I only wish you needed me, too.” His breath fanned my face warmly and he covered my hand where it pressed against his cheek. “But you don’t. You, Luna, queen of Relhok, don’t need me, or anyone for that matter.”

  “That’s true, but I want Fowler.” I turned my hand over and squeezed his hand lightly, feeling a strange camaraderie swell between us.