The Throne of Broken Bones (Weapon of Fire and Ash Book 3)

by Brittany Matsen

She took off at a run for her father, leaping over the carnage

  Blaze’s fury had wrought. “Asmodeus!” she screamed, never

  breaking stride.

  The eerie man’s face split with a smile.“Hello, daughter. How

  I’ve missed you.”

  In a blink he vanished from the boulder. She faltered, only

  for her father to appear directly in front of her, now donning

  metal armor that looked like scales. The tip of a massive sword

  pressed into her neck.

  “Kneel, or I’ll massacre your friends with nothing but a

  swipe of my hand.”

  Emma’s chest rose and fell while she considered her options.

  Behind her, the Shediem closed in again. A shout came from

  behind her, causing her to look over her shoulder. The blade

  dug painfully into her skin, and she saw a blinding white light

  cocooning both Blaze and Sergei, lifting them into the air for

  Emma to see.

  She swallowed hard. Where was Gertie?

  Her gaze returned to the Shediem prince, rage spiking

  through her, blurring her vision. Slowly, she lowered herself to

  her knees while glaring up at the monster that was her father. “I’ve been expecting you,” the cruel prince crooned. His eyes

  flashed with hunger. Bloodlust.

  He was going to kill her.

  She didn’t flinch when the blade withdrew from her throat,

  a trickle of blood—hot against her cool skin—soaking into her

  already torn sweater.

  He raised the weapon high, preparing her for her execution.

  “It’s a pity you didn’t desire to serve me willingly.”

  With a swoosh, the sword cut through the air. She lifted

  her hands and sent another blast from her body. It tossed him

  back with a shout.

  Her temples throbbed. Leaping to her feet, Emma whirled,

  preparing to kill her way through a horde of Shediem only for

  another blast of light to send them flying. She couldn’t see where

  it’d come from.

  Shouts rang out as a final burst of light sent the cloaked

  soldiers flying too. Blaze and Sergei fell to the snow, Blaze landing

  a little more gracefully than the Spellcaster did.

  They rushed toward her, but Emma frantically searched

  for whoever had helped her. The answer came when the only

  standing cloaked person pushed back their hood—black, not red. Adrianna’s curly dark mane bounced free, and her friend’s

  dark eyes landed on her. She inclined her head in a nod, but

  Emma was too stunned to move.

  “Emma, we’ve got to go,” Blaze shouted, though it sounded

  distant. He pulled her by the arm, leading her away. She remained transfixed, both girls staring at the other.

  Emma couldn’t believe it. Her friend had magic. She was here. But why?

  It was only a matter of seconds before other sounds trickled

  back in: shouts, the snarls and snaps of Shediem, her father’s

  roaring commands.

  “Come with us!” Emma called. But her friend just shook

  her head.

  Emma’s heart cracked when she was pulled away. They sprinted away as fast as they could. Blaze had let go of her to take

  the limp form Sergei had been carrying, and Emma’s heart froze. Gertie, grey and lifeless, hung in his arms. He cradled her

  to his chest while they ran, the Shediem in desperate pursuit.

  Emma glanced over her shoulder, spying the prince stalking after

  them. A charred black hole in the center of his chest smoked.

  Her stomach churned at the realization that she could see through

  his body.

  “There’s nowhere you can run, Shediem-Slayer!”he bellowed,

  stumbling to his knees. The ground shook from the strength of

  his voice.“Your death is coming!”

  They didn’t stop, but the sounds of their pursuers eventually

  did. She couldn’t believe they’d managed to escape. Her power

  hadn’t killed him, but it had at least wounded him enough to

  let them get away.

  Even after their surroundings fell silent, they didn’t stop

  jogging their way back to the vehicle until it looked like Sergei

  would pass out. Their break was short-lived, and Sergei panted

  and wheezed beside them. But he didn’t complain.

  Blaze strained to continue carrying Gertie at their hurried

  pace, but from the hard determination in his expression, Emma

  didn’t try to stop him.

  When they made it back to their vehicle, they stood in silence,

  staring at the SUV. It felt harsh to flop Gertie’s body down in

  the back seat, but what choice did they have? Blaze set her in the

  seat as gently as he could.

  Emma reached for him, hoping to offer him comfort, but he

  jerked away from her touch before stalking a little ways from the

  vehicle. She watched him fall to his knees before he screamed a

  deafening, horrid sound that made Emma’s gut clench. Another body.

  Another person she cared for, dead.

  She shook her head, unable to stop her angry tears. “I’ll get him, Gertie. I’ll kill him for you,” she promised the

  lifeless woman through the window.

  Emma dragged herself to her room, sore and mentally

  strained. She felt as if the threads of her being were still

  unraveling and only a few strands remained. Her eyes burned,

  already puffy from shedding so many tears on the trip back. Gertie.

  She was not only a powerful and gifted Spellcaster;

  she was also an immensely kind woman. She had children.

  Grandchildren. A family. And now she wouldn’t be there to help

  protect them from what was coming.

  The destruction wrought on the world thus far was proof

  enough that too many would die for this war. For a war that

  wasn’t even theirs to fight.

  Hot tears spilled over Emma’s cheeks, burning the cool skin.

  It was a familiar sensation these days.

  Pushing open her bedroom door, she froze.

  The air inside was icy. Her breath plumed in front of her

  and her skin pebbled. Wrapping her arms around herself, she

  stepped inside and shut the door.

  There on her bed, like a dark beacon, was the source of the

  cold. She walked closer, slowly. Hesitantly. Her breath came in

  ragged puffs.

  Its power pulsed as she drew near. The glittering onyx stones

  crudely carved into the spires that made up the crown winked

  at her in the dim light. Black shadows rose from the crown and

  into the air above it. They swirled and melded into letters that

  became words.

  The tears on Emma’s face froze and her breath hitched. The message from the King of Death stilled in the air for

  her to read:

  For you, my queen. I’ll see you soon.

  Another crown. Another message. It wasn’t just King Nakosh’s insistence that made her lunge for the black crown, but the rage that shot through her. Gertie was dead. Her mother was dead. How many more people that she cared about would die

  too in the sick game the Shediem kept playing with her? The moment her fingers brushed the carved stones, ice shot

  up the crown, blanketing the black onyx in crystalized blue. It

  rushed up her hands and arms, but her flames leapt to her skin

  in defense, melting the ice with a long hiss.

  Then she heard his voice in her mind, as clear as if he stood


  behind her. Just to give you a little taste of what to expect. You may

  wield flames now, but when you take your place in Sheol, only ice

  and cold will be your constant companions.

  Emma whirled around, making sure the king of Sheol

  wasn’t truly standing in her bedroom, but she was alone. With

  a stunning black crown that matched the gaping darkness in her

  chest where her heart had once been.

  32

  Blaze

  T hey held a small funeral for Gertie. He was so damned sick of funerals already—it seemed nearly everyone was grieving someone these days. Her sisters’ grief suffocated

  the place. Gertie had left information on how to contact her children for such events, but that was before the Earth had become home to the five princes of Sheol.

  Now, the best he could do was send two of his guys to track down at least one of them, to let them know their mother had died. Not many had known Gertie as well or as long as he and Axel had, but she was the kind of woman that everyone adored. If for no other reasons than her decadent cooking and compassionate heart.

  His throat was thick and he swallowed hard, coming back to his surroundings when his uncle called for a vote on Axel’s trial.

  “All those in favor for getting this done with today?”

  His uncle and nearly every other leader raised their hands.

  Blaze’s fists clenched under the table. “I buried the woman that was like a second mother to my brother and me only yesterday. Can I not get a goddamned minute to come up for air?” Axel had been allowed to attend the funeral—in shackles no less—but at least he’d had his brother with him.

  Silas shook his head, adamantly.“This needs to be done with, boy, and you know it! My goddaughter is heartbroken over her broken engagement yet again.”

  Blaze’s answering laugh was harsh and bitter.“I stopped being a boy the moment my mother died. And any tears Emerelda sheds is for the loss of the extravagant party she won’t get to throw, not because she loved my brother.”

  Silas went from red to purple in a click, seeming to swell with indignation. But slowly, he let out his anger in a huffed breath. “Regardless, the motion passes. Axel’s fate will be decided this afternoon.”

  Even though Blaze wanted to lash out in retribution for Silas’s betrayal, he couldn’t afford to lose focus right now. He had a matter of hours to prove his brother’s innocence. It wouldn’t be much time, but he just needed to keep his brother alive until he could sort the mess out.

  Vaguely he heard his uncle speaking again, but Blaze tuned him out. He needed to get to the cells and talk to his brother. Gertie would have slapped him silly if she could see how distracted he was now. The thought almost made him smile.

  “I think Beleez is a safe bet,” Emma agreed, her voice harder than he had ever heard it.

  His gaze snapped to her, attention back in the room.

  “If I can dangle myself in his direction just enough, maybe he’d offer an invitation to his territory. I can pretend to want to get in contact with my father again or something.”

  Blaze made a choked noise in the back of his throat. “Are you insane?” he snapped. She met his stare, eyes burning with green light.“Did you learn nothing from yesterday? Your father wants you dead!” He softened his tone when she no longer seemed to be looking at him, but through him.“I know you’re in pain, Emma, you’ve lost your mum and now Gertie is gone. But throwing yourself to the wolves is only going to ensure I have to grieve your death too.” His voice broke, Adam’s apple bobbing.

  She blinked, seeming to return to herself. “Do me a favor, Blaze,” she whispered. “Don’t cry for me when I’m gone. It’s a waste of time.” Then she met everyone else’s gazes before turning and striding from the room.

  His blood pounded in his ears, and he shook his head. But he couldn’t chase after her now and tell her just how foolish she was to think he wouldn’t shed a tear for her. And that she would die. He wouldn’t allow it. He had to stay and make sure Silas didn’t try to pull any other wild ideas from his top hat.

  “Personally, I think that’s a great idea,” Silas drawled.“Much better than the last attack.”

  Blaze’s fists clenched so hard his knuckles cracked.

  “We cannot offer up our greatest weapon as a sacrifice, with no backup,”Dominic said from further down the table. His friend held Blaze’s gaze for several moments—a promise to him as well as a warning to the rest of the room.

  No one objected, though Silas was opening his mouth to do so until Dominic folded his arms over his bulky chest and leveled a challenging glare in his direction.

  “Fine.” His uncle rolled his eyes.“Five men. Don’t forget that we need all the help here we can get.”

  “Ten,” Blaze countered. “And I’ll need Taryn and Derrik.” Silas sputtered until Blaze abruptly cut him off.“Volunteers to accompany us on our mission to South America?”

  Dominic’s hand rose first, followed by two others.

  Blaze nodded.“I’ll ask the others. Dom, can you get the plane prepped? We leave tonight.”

  That gave him just enough time to try to stop his brother’s execution and convince Emma not to so flippantly offer up her life to every powerful Shediem they crossed.

  For some reason, he had the feeling the former would be easier.

  Blaze halted outside his brother’s cell, arms folded across his chest. Axel lay on the hard, stone floor with one arm thrown over his eyes. Blaze wasn’t fooled into believing his brother was asleep, however. His chest was still, holding his breath.

  Unwilling to break the silence, Axel finally turned his head, his arm falling onto his abdomen instead.

  “Evening,” he drawled. The gaunt, sunken look of his face had only worsened since yesterday, which Blaze was sure could be, in part, attributed to Gertie’s loss. The frailty of his brother’s usually strong form still made his gut twist.

  Something was not right.

  Possession?

  Magic of some kind?

  He planned to find out.

  “Good to see you’re still in such good spirits, considering your execution is meant to be decided in two hours.”

  His pale blue eyes widened imperceptibly.“Well…good. Has Emerelda asked about me?”

  Blaze cocked his head in silent contemplation. “When did she last visit you?”

  Axel scrubbed a hand down his face, the coarse hair on his chin sounding like velcro.“I saw her at Gertie’s…” He swallowed hard.“I saw her yesterday, but we didn’t talk.”

  Blaze nodded. He hadn’t let his brother out of his sight for even a moment yesterday.“And before then?”

  “Uhh,”Axel mused aloud.“I guess the day after I was thrown in here.”

  “What did she say to you?”

  His brother’s features darkened. “Why is that any of your business?”

  Anger rose inside him so quickly, he couldn’t control it. Blaze shot forward, banging his palms against the bars, sending a bellow through the chamber. The prisoner next to them, Oliver Phillips, groaned before sitting up.“I’m trying to save your life, you idiot!” Blaze snarled, making his brother flinch.

  Odd. He’s never flinched away from me before.

  “I don’t see how that’s relevant,” Axel said calmly. Then he sighed.“She said to be strong and that she loved me.” He winced, holding a hand to the front of his head. “This damn headache won’t go away.”

  Blaze exhaled his frustration.“I’ll get you some aspirin later. Now think: did anyone give you anything the day before or the morning we left for New Orleans? Run through everything you remember.”

  Axel hissed, gripping his head with both hands. “I already told Silas everything. It was all normal. I had breakfast with Emmy, I went to training, but then I felt sick so I took a nap.After dinner, we went over wedding preparations and then I went to bed. That morning, I packed, had breakfast, kissed Emmy, and then
we left. That’s it.”

  Blaze chewed on his cheek for a moment, thinking. “Who did you train with?”

  Axel’s jaw visibly tightened.“A bunch of the guys.”

  “Was he there?” Blaze gestured to the cell next to him. Oliver swayed, looking in worse shape than Axel did before he curled up in a ball again, facing them.

  Axel paused before grinding out the word “Yes.”

  Blaze kicked the bars of Oliver’s cell, forcing him to sit up again.

  He moaned a pained sound.“What?”

  “Walk me through everything that happened before and after you went to the training room.”

  “I don’t remember,” he sobbed.

  “Bollocks! I think you’re hiding something, Phillips. What is it?”

  “Nothing!” the man wailed.

  Blaze grimaced. He was definitely hiding something. That, or he was spelled to forget. Without a second glance he tore up the stairs, sprinting for Sergei’s quarters. He banged on the door unceremoniously, only ceasing when it was pulled open, out of his reach.

  Sergei looked alarmed, his blond hair rumpled and the lines on his face indicating he’d been sleeping.

  “I need you to come with me,” Blaze said.

  To his credit, Sergei didn’t argue. He simply nodded and shut the door behind him. His clothing was wrinkled, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his bottom partially untucked. But Blaze didn’t say anything as he led the way back into the basement.

  Sergei faltered on the landing, looking apprehensively at the cells.“There’s magic down here.”

  Blaze nodded. “I know. What I don’t know is are both of them spelled, or just one?”

  With a sharp exhalation through the nose, he walked closer, stopping in front of his brother’s cell.

  “Brought in backup, did you?” Axel asked mockingly before returning his gaze to the ceiling.

  “Why didn’t you send for Taryn or even Constance? As coven leaders, they’re far stronger in their magic than I am,” Sergei said softly before moving to stand in front of Oliver’s cell.

  “Because Taryn is kind of a loose cannon and Constance just lost her sister. I didn’t want to ask any more of her right now.”

  Without looking at Blaze, Sergei nodded his understanding. “What’s his name?”

  “Oliver Phillips,” Blaze supplied.

  “Oliver,” Sergei called to the now-sleeping prisoner. When he didn’t stir, Blaze stepped closer.