Kingdom of Fire

by Ana Calin

  With one arm around Cerys, I swim towards the snowy shore with one arm. I can feel her breathe beneath her silver protection suit, and I don’t think the icy temperature of the water reaches her skin.

  But my own body feels heavier with every step as I walk out of the arctic sea onto the shore, my hair soaked, water dripping heavily from my clothes. Dressed in black leather, I’m a dark stain against the backdrop of all this perfect white. Cerys on the other hand, she blends in perfectly with the environment. I lay her carefully on the ground, and the suit starts retracting from her face, revealing first her forehead with strands of hair plastered to it, then her eyes, her nose, and her mouth. She takes a deep breath like she’s just come back to life, just as Nazarean wriggles his way out from the suit.

  I help her into a sitting position. The expression on her face as she takes in the surroundings is priceless.

  “The Winter Realm,” she whispers in awe. “High realms, I never imagined it like this.”

  Her arms are trembling. The portal’s force has drained her of strength. I look around, but not in admiration as she does, but scanning our proximities for a shelter.

  The Winter Realm seems indeed taken right out of a fairy tale. It’s nothing like the volcanic, hellish landscape of the Fire Realm, where she would have had to spend eternity as my Queen.

  “There,” I tell her, my eyes zooming in on the pillars and archways carved into the mountain at the foot of a tall rock. The rock supports a mighty castle made of icicles. “The main palace of the Winter Realm. The portal took us really close. Come, we need to find shelter quickly, otherwise the patrols will discover us.”

  I scoop her up in my arms, which tears a yelp from her mouth. I move as fast as the wind towards the large rock, trying to ignore all the warm and fuzzy feelings that her yelp stirred inside me.

  High mountains rise to piece the sky with their snowy tips, the arctic sea lapping at their base. It’s impossible to know what’s beyond them from here, but as we move closer to the castle, something even more interesting comes into view.

  A canal built between the fortress of rock and a chain of hills rising from the sea. Pillars of marble and ivory flank it, shining with precious gems, and building a bridge over the canal. Cursed realms, how can a warrior king like Lysander live among so much white. It’s not that the place doesn’t look dangerous. The many icicle-looking spires of the castle pierce the sky, looking like weapons, but still, there’s so much glamour for a man of violence like Lysander. It’s true that he now splits his time between the Winter Realm and his wife’s Sea Court, and before that he dwelt in the Flipside, but he’s still one with this place, just like I am one with the Fire Realm.

  But Cerys seems fascinated, like this is the most beautiful realm she’s even seen, and jealousy cuts through my chest.

  “Don’t get used to the luxurious landscape,” I grunt at her as I scan the entrances for a place where we can hide. “As soon as this is over, you’re going back to the Fire Realm.”

  “Will you keep me in a prison for the rest of my life?”

  “Your fate depends on how much you help on this mission.”

  We can’t take the conversation beyond this point without fighting, and we both know it, so we stop. I have to keep my eyes out for patrols that might discover us, as well as for a spot where we can hide and catch our breath, decide how we’ll go about our mission from here. I scan the surroundings, taking in every detail, every entrance, every archway, the stairwells spiraling up the spires, circling them like ivory snakes.

  Courts walk up those stairs, in pairs and in groups. Women with colored dresses that lick the stairs as they walk. The stairwells are wide, and the banisters beautifully ornate. As people disappear through the archways from the stairs inside the castle, I turn my attention to the rest of our surroundings. We make our way through the thickets of fir trees circling the fortress rock. No one has spotted us so far, and I don’t sense enemy energy anywhere. I’m skilled at keeping a low profile, and at tricking my enemies’ senses, but this is the Winter Realm, the land of the only fae king whose powers were ever on par with mine, so I must be extra careful.

  Then I notice the first patrols marching by. Glittery bastards they are with those silvery helmets, the shiny armor, and their blades. They would normally stand out like sore thumbs, but here in the Winter Realm where everything is snow, ice, and winter charm, it’s fucking camouflage. I would have worn silver or white myself, like Cerys does, but my golden-bronze skin and my ebony hair would have been a sure giveaway, not to mention that armor would have been too heavy, and I need to be as light on my feet as possible in the Winter Realm.

  I put Cerys down, drawing behind a thick fir tree. Nazarean ducks under her braided ponytail that’s draped over her shoulder, his green eyes narrowed on the patrols. I push down a branch to cover our faces, snow falling off of it.

  “Feels like Christmas,” Cerys says behind me. I throw her a reproachful glance. “I mean, it would, if the situation were different,” she corrects herself.

  I redirect my attention to the patrols again, my pupils shifting into slits, and zeroing in on them. They stop in front of a barred rectangular opening. I could easily bend those bars and slip inside. The opening must lead into a sewer or something, even though I don’t trace an unpleasant smell from the place. Winter fae and the magical beings living in this realm are cleanly creatures, ethereal, close to angels. This is, after all, the Northern Pole of Hell. Winter fae and the inhabitants of their realm tend to lean towards the pure and elevated, unlike the wild pack of us in the Fire Realm.

  “We can take the sewers,” I tell Cerys. “I don’t smell any guards inside, and from there I’ll be able to make out the inner structure of the castle.”

  I feel for volcanoes underground, just in case we need to make an exit in style. The first time I met Lysander on a ship in the middle of the ocean, I had prepared by connecting to a string of volcanoes on the ocean floor. I do sense eruptive energy beneath the earth’s mantle here in the Winter Realm as well, but it’s much farther underground than in the Flipside. It won’t be easy to tap into that fire power, and it’ll be even harder to use it.

  I’ll have to rely on the energy stores inside my own core. I take Cerys’ hand, drawing her attention from the wintery fairy-tale surroundings back to me.

  “Before we take one step in there, I want us to get one thing straight. I asked you to come with me for two reasons—you are my guarantee to Lysander that my intentions are peaceful, and second, I couldn’t leave you alone back in the Fire Realm where everybody was ready to tear you apart. So I suggest that you don’t do anything stupid.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like trying to betray me again.” I let her see in my face just how convinced I am that she thought about it. My hands become vices around her arms, sinking into her flesh. I take care not to hurt her, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I did, but she doesn’t need to know that. I bring her close, resting my forehead against hers.

  “Don’t forget that, even if you succeed in getting away from me, it won’t be long until my people find you and punish you. And they can be very inventive when it comes to that. You heard all the ways that the courts would have you suffer. Try anything now, and it will be enough reason for them to implement all of them.”

  She listens without even flinching. These damned feelings I have for her, I just can’t summon enough brutality to intimidate her. My eyes move to Nazarean, tucked under her thick shiny braided ponytail. If he doesn’t hiss or attack, Cerys knows I’m not actually a danger to her. I let out a low growl, and release her, ducking under the fir branches heavy with snow.

  I try to disconnect from the cocktail of emotions that tie me to Cerys, and focus on speeding to the grated opening as soon as the guards have moved away. I focus my senses to detect any other security measures that Lysander might employ for his main residence in the Winter Realm. If he’s anything like me—and that he is—he’s got eyes e
verywhere. Ravens in the sky, even tiny silver caterpillars on the trees. He could be connected to everything that moves and breathes, and maybe even more than that. Like the walls and doors of his own castle.

  The guards scan the surroundings, smelling that something is wrong. They leave, but only reluctantly. With my senses activated to pick up any possible threat, I can’t turn to Cerys, all I do is hold out my hand behind me. She puts hers in it.

  “When I say go,” I whisper, “start running, and keep really close to me. Don’t let go of my hand no matter what.”

  With that, I spring from our hideout towards the opening, my hand firmly closed around Cerys’ little fist. We bolt over the span of snowy earth between the ring of fir forest surrounding the castle rock. It takes only a few seconds to realize Cerys won’t be able to move as fast as I do, and my senses fire on high alert. We only have a few seconds until danger sets its eyes on us again. I can feel Lysander’s sky spies turning towards us. Two more seconds and they’ll spot us.

  I curse through my teeth and spin around, scooping Cerys up so fast that she yelps. Nazarean slips from her shoulder, and sinks his claws into her hair to keep from falling in the snow. They’d spot him immediately, a ball of black shiny fur on the immaculate backdrop of snow. I manage to catch him on my forearm. He rests his back paws on it while clinging to Cerys’ hair with his front claws.

  I set them down when we reach the opening, and I grip the bars with both hands. The metal is magic steel specific to the Winter Realm, a metal they process here in such a way that it’s almost impossible to warp even under extreme heat. But luckily, extreme physical strength runs in my blood, and I manage to bend them, even though it’s not without effort. My muscles bulge, fire veins showing through my skin, making me a fucking beacon for the surveillance.

  “Fuck,” I hiss as I sense their hawkish eyes sweeping over the opening, but we manage to slip inside just before they spot us. We dive to safety at the very last second, and I let out a dull cuss.

  “What is it?” Cerys’ voice trembles. She braces herself, rubbing her arms. She can’t be cold, the silver suit that helped her breathe underwater keeps her warm, too. It must be adrenaline that shakes her body.

  “The tracks,” I realize as I straighten up the bars again, to give us cover. I examine the surroundings with narrowed eyes, then I turn to the dark tunnel, my pupils becoming slits. The tunnel resembles a long dark stone pipe, the walls coated with ice. I activate the power in my skin, and close my eyes, tracing the inside structure of the castle with my senses.

  “Damn it.” The place is as big as my castle in the Fire Realm, and even fuller. I suppose it makes sense. Ever since he got married, Lysander has had a more intense social life than me. His wife is Arielle the Sea Queen, which is probably why I pick up sea magic energy in the castle. Many of the guests here must come from her side, plus there are mixed armies and courts. There’s a feast up in the Throne Hall, I can smell it from here. That screws things up. I need to get Lysander alone, and that might be impossible under the circumstances.

  Something moves at my feet, drawing my attention. It’s Nazarean, staring up at me from the level of my boots with slit green eyes, his tail brushing over my legs. The vibe he gives me is unmistakable.

  “You want to help?”

  He meows.

  “All right. Can you feel your way through the catacombs?” Not that I can’t do it myself, but with his help I’ll be able to focus my energies elsewhere.

  He purrs and moves forward, padding along the tunnel. I take Cerys’ hand and start after him, my pointy ears feeling for the inner structure of the rock and the palace. Few people know, but that is what we use our pointy ears for. They are instruments that serve higher senses.

  A shiver runs through Cerys, sending current up my arm. She braces herself with one arm, while her little hand holds on tightly to mine.

  “What are you afraid of?” I whisper, my breath steaming the air. “The worst thing that can happen is getting caught, and that wouldn’t be a bad thing for you. You used to fight on Lysander’s side, he would never hurt you.”

  “Believe it or not, I don’t want him to hurt you either.”

  Her words sound like truth, which puts a bitter taste in my mouth. I don’t want to believe her, I don’t even want to care if she still has feelings for me.

  “We need to find him, and we need to find him alone,” I tell her. “Fast. It won’t be long until the patrols find our tracks in the snow. They’ll know people have infiltrated the castle, and it will make our mission even harder.”

  “Then let’s do it my way.”

  “Your way?”

  “Yes. We find a good hiding place for you, and I go talk to him.”

  I bare my teeth like a wolf. “Yeah, sure. Because you proved so trustworthy so far. You’re gonna talk to Lysander all right, but you’ll only do it in my presence.”

  Something clangs somewhere close, and I yank her to me, hiding in an alcove in the wall, covering her mouth with my hand. Nazarean joins us, ducking between Cerys’ ankles.

  “We must be close to the dungeons,” I breathe into her ear. A tremble runs through her. Cursed realms. There’s no mistaking that reaction. It turns her on, being in my arms like this, feeling my breath on her skin. What the fuck is going on here?

  Nazarean meows, the sign that we can move on, and my senses tell me the way is clear as well. I let Cerys go like she burns me, basically pushing her from my arms. She spins around, her luminous honey eyes throwing daggers at me. Here, in the darkness of the catacombs, the glow of her irises and her silver suit could give us away. I turn my back to her, shielding her.

  “Stay behind me. You shine like a beacon.”

  Nazarean leads the way, his senses and mine working together seamlessly, smoothly. I grit my teeth. His acceptance of me is a dead giveaway that my feelings for her aren’t as negative as they should be. Will I even be able to punish her when this is over? Realms, how I wish I could just punch a wall, splinter the thick ice coating, watch it fall in chunks to the ground, smashing against the floor. I need an outlet for this frustration, and I need it soon, otherwise I’ll lose my mind.

  I force myself to think about how Cerys has brought doom over us all by giving herself over to Samael, and driving him as crazy about her as she drove me. She brought death and destruction upon my people, a people who accepted her as their queen, and celebrated our union with respect and hope.

  “The only way into the castle from here is through the dungeons,” I say as we reach the first primitive-looking stairs towards the upper level. We climb carefully, and I bring us to an abrupt stop. I draw us behind a corner as I eye a pair of guards at the end of a corridor. There is a row of prison cells on one side, with white, ghostly hands reaching out through the bars, moans and stench filling the air.

  “See,” I tell Cerys. “He’s no better than me. He keeps his prisoners in even worse conditions than I do.”

  She peers around me into the corridor, her eyes widening and darting from the guards to me. I run my tongue over my elongating fangs, already seeing in my mind’s eye how I’m going to attack them like a beast from the dark, pinning them under me. I have to be careful to not crush their glittery silver armor in the process, the reason why their fate is sealed.

  They walk closer, running the hilts of their swords over the bars, adding clamor to the gut-wrenching moans of Lysander’s prisoners. The bigger one grins, and slashes one of the prisoner’s forearm, tearing an agonizing cry from the creature. My skin crawls. I want to look back at Cerys, daring her to say another good thing about the Winter Realm and the creatures in it. They can be just as cruel as us in the Fire Realm, or maybe worse. My people rarely do gratuitous harm, like this piece of shit right here, and when they do I make sure they are severely punished.

  I span like a bow, hands on the leather-coated hilts of the throwing daggers strapped around my torso. I’d prefer to get physical and crush them, but I can’t. I’m about to
throw the daggers whipping through the air directly into their throats, but at the last moment Cerys grabs my arm, pulling me back.

  “What in the cursed realms are you doing?” she breathes, her cheeks red. Her blood must be racing like crazy through her veins. “You’re not going to kill them.”

  “We left tracks in the snow, Cerys,” I hiss through my teeth. “We need their armor and their weapons in order to pass as guards.”

  “But you can’t just take these people’s lives.”

  I bare my teeth, bending down to her, barely able to control my fury. “They’re not exactly innocents, as you’ve surely noticed. But still you think they’re more worthy than a fire fae, especially me, don’t you? I’m worse than the devil in your eyes, worse than Samael. You would rather they took my life, wouldn’t you?”

  “Realms, no, how can you say that?” she shrieks. She gasps, slapping her hand over her mouth, her eyes blasting wide as she realizes what she’s done. But it’s too late, the guards have heard her. The smaller one, a man with the eyes of a hawk, has been peering into the darkness this whole time anyway, ever since his colleague cut the prisoner’s arm.

  The next scene happens too fast for Cerys to comprehend. I press myself against the wall and let them round the corner, drawn to the glow radiating from Cerys’ silver suit. Convinced she is the threat lurking in the shadows, they launch at her with their swords drawn. They stop when they’re only inches away from her, glancing one last time at each other confused before I cut the first one’s throat from behind.

  Cerys whimpers as he falls to his knees, his armor thudding onto the frozen ground. I meet her eyes for only a moment before I turn to the other guard, but one moment is enough. She’s shocked to see someone who’s not a monster die a violent death before her eyes.

  It doesn’t make much sense, considering that she’s supposed to have murdered with her own hands before, but there’s no time to dwell on that now. I block an incoming blow from the other guard, the bigger one, and slam him against the wall, ramming my elbow into his throat and watching him choke on his tongue and bones.