Fireblood

by Elly Blake

  His smile grew. “Oh, little bird,” he said smoothly, “I am second to no one.”

  I huffed at his arrogance. “So you are the dignitary?”

  He inclined his head.

  “Arcus was afraid you wouldn’t come.” I’d been so fixated on the Fireblood queen, I’d forgotten to ask if the dignitary had replied to the invitation. So this was the elected leader of the southern provinces, the group of people who wanted self-governance within the kingdom. It was brave of him to show up. Some of the court would probably hang him for treason if they could.

  His brows rose, and I realized I’d used the nickname “Arcus” instead of “King Arkanus.”

  “A last-minute decision,” he replied. “Who could resist a glimpse of the king’s famous Fireblood champion?”

  “I’m not his champion.”

  “Don’t waste your time on false modesty, little bird. You were the first Fireblood to win in the king’s arena. A story to inspire bards and troubadours! The Fireblood peasant girl, hidden away in a mountain village until her mother’s death drove her to revenge. Destroyer of thrones. Killer of kings. And somehow, instead of facing execution for these crimes, she won the affection of the new Frost King and resides comfortably in his castle. I won’t make you blush by repeating the reasons they say he keeps you so close. Even if I can see quite clearly why those rumors are likely to be true. Your neck is far too lovely to be split in half.” He smiled as he watched my reaction—I struggled against a rush of angry heat—and he held up his palms. “Don’t blame me, Lady Ruby. I only repeat what I hear. You’re a legend, though perhaps more hated than admired in this court.”

  Normally, I’d have told him what he could do with his thoughts on my so-called legendary status and my place in the court, but I didn’t want to do anything that would ruin Arcus’s chances for gaining a signature on his treaty. I swallowed my angry retort and scanned the room for an escape.

  “It’s rather stuffy in here,” I said, aiming for a tone that conveyed regretful but firm dismissal. “I think I’ll take a stroll in the garden. If you’ll excuse me.”

  “I’ll accompany you,” he said smoothly.

  Annoyance flared, which for some reason made him grin.

  “Hoping to escape me, were you? As I came all this way to speak to you, it would be rude of you to ignore me. After all, your king is hoping your presence here aids his campaign to unite his broken kingdom.”

  “I wouldn’t call the kingdom ‘broken,’ and even if it were, I wouldn’t be the one to unite it.”

  A twitch of his eyebrow gave the impression of disbelief. “It’s a sound strategy. Using your… friendship… to convince his detractors that he’s different from his brother. If his companion is a Fireblood, he can’t be all bad. Isn’t that the current propaganda being churned out by the Frost Court?”

  “It’s not propaganda. And he doesn’t need me to convince people of that.”

  “On the contrary, you’re the reason I’m here. And perhaps the Safrans would say the same. You’d make a far more effective ambassador than the imbeciles the king appoints to speak for him.”

  “He has to work within the confines of the court,” I said, offended at the implication that Arcus chose his representatives poorly. “Why am I defending him to you? Go speak to him yourself, if you’re so skeptical. And leave me in peace.”

  He laughed. “Perhaps you’re no ambassador after all. No dignitary can afford to trample on diplomacy with such abandon. But surely you’ve been instructed to help mend ties with the southern provinces?”

  Arcus had said my presence here would help. He needed the peace treaties signed if he was to bring his troops home to their fields and villages. If I could help him do that, I should swallow my pride and keep my temper.

  “I would be pleased to have you accompany me,” I said with a sigh.

  “Ah, now see? That wasn’t so bad.”

  As we turned toward the doors leading outside, someone sniffed loudly behind us. I turned and found myself face-to-face with a fox—a white frost fox pelt curled around the shoulders of a noblewoman.

  “How fitting,” said Lady Blanding, somehow managing to look down her nose at me, even though we were about the same height. “The Fireblood peasant and the illiterate provincial, cozy as two rats in a barrel. They say a rodent will always manage to find more of its own kind.”

  “Madam,” said the dignitary, “the only rodent I see is above your shoulders.”

  “This is no rodent,” she retorted, smoothing the white fur with bejeweled fingers, her voice high with outrage. “My stole was made from a pure white frost fox, a gift from my husband before the species was hunted nearly to extinction.”

  “I wasn’t referring to the fox,” he replied, each word enunciated, his gaze steady. When she finally took his meaning, her eyes turned to steel.

  “My husband and I are powerful people,” she said, her voice as frigid as the pillars. “If I thought you deserved it, I might have argued for your salvation. As it is, I leave you to your fate.”

  With a final outraged glance, Lady Blanding whirled and stomped away, her gray hair wobbling like a tower of curdled whipped cream. The back of her head sported a comb in the shape of a fox head, its diamond eyes staring lifelessly at me.

  “Is that typical of your interactions with the Frost Court?” the dignitary asked.

  “Pretty much,” I answered, still smiling at the look on Lady Blanding’s face when she’d realized she was being insulted. “I’ve never enjoyed it quite so much, though.”

  “I believe we were going to get some air?” At my nod, he started to reach for my arm but checked the movement. Instead, he motioned outside. When we had crossed the threshold, the footmen shut the doors sharply behind us.

  He chuckled. “I find it amusing that they keep the doors closed. Are they worried about letting in a draft?”

  I stared. “That is strange, actually.”

  “We shouldn’t squander such a thoughtful gift,” he said silkily. “What should we do with all this newfound privacy?”

  Instead of answering, I strode purposefully down the path into the ice garden, my slippers crunching over the gravel, my skirts rustling like autumn leaves. The air altered as we moved farther from the ballroom, cooling and crisping, the scent of expensive perfumes replaced by pungent hints of pine, oil from hanging lamps, and the minty breath of drowsing pennyroyal. I inhaled deeply, enjoying the chill but also using my gift to push out a layer of heat beneath my thin gown.

  “I don’t know what you think we’re doing out here,” I said as the dignitary ambled alongside me, “but I’m here to talk about you signing the peace treaty.”

  “And yet you’re all alone,” he said, as if he thought me too innocent to appreciate the possible danger. “What would stop me from deciding I didn’t want to talk at all?”

  “My fire would stop you,” I said seriously, halting and turning to him. “And I wouldn’t hesitate to use it.”

  He made an amused sound. “I’m afraid that isn’t as intimidating as you’d like it to be, Lady Ruby. Not with me.”

  “You’re not a Frostblood.”

  “Definitely not.”

  “Then you should be intimidated.”

  The edge of his mouth tensed, as if he fought a smile. “Because your ‘Arcus’ will have me dealt with if you ask him to?”

  I angled my chin up. “If anyone can heal the wounds opened by his brother, Arcus can. And yes, I call him ‘Arcus’ because that’s how I first knew him, well before he became king. His sense of honor runs deep and he has never let me down. You can trust him.”

  “You truly believe what you’re saying, don’t you?” he asked with a hint of wonder. And perhaps pity.

  “Of course I do. And so should you. The sooner the peace accords are signed, the sooner we can begin healing Tempesia.”

  “And where do you fit into this… healing?”

  I shrugged. “Doing whatever I can, I suppose.”
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br />   “But what do you want? What do you want for yourself?” The question was strangely intense.

  I hesitated. I could have kept my distance with some vague answer. But I sensed it was a serious question, and that he was still deciding whether to trust me, and by extension, trust Arcus. The trouble was, I didn’t really know what I wanted. When I tried to picture my future, my mind clouded, as if I were looking at a glass ball filled with smoke. I needed to destroy the Minax, to stop the visions and get my mind back again, but I couldn’t tell him that. So I told him a different truth.

  “I want the kind of peace we had before King Akur, when trade was open between provinces. Between kingdoms. With Sudesia, where my mother came from.”

  Something flared in his eyes, bright and fierce. “Do you truly believe that’s achievable in your lifetime?”

  “Don’t you?”

  He wore an enigmatic smile. “I commend you for dreaming big.”

  “By all means,” said a voice from somewhere in the darkness of the garden. “Let the fools dream of peace. I, for one, would prefer to make our enemies pay.”

  FOUR

  THREE LANTERNS WENT OUT, ONE after the other, leaving only the nearest one casting a small circle of light around a shadowy figure. It was the footman I’d seen staring at me earlier.

  “We had all kinds of elaborate plans to isolate you, Firefilth,” he said, “and then you wander out here.” He turned a menacing look on the dignitary. “We didn’t expect you tonight, but we’ll take the good fortune bestowed by Fors.”

  Though the dignitary hadn’t changed position, tension radiated from him. “The god of the north wind has nothing to do with my presence here.”

  “Who are you?” I asked the blond man.

  His grin widened. “I’ve been told I bear a resemblance to my brother. Surely you haven’t forgotten him.”

  In the space of a breath, it all snapped into place. The sandy-blond hair, the familiar arrogant grin. I would never forget the man he resembled—the man who’d killed my mother. “You’re Captain Drake’s brother.”

  “Oh, so the lady does remember. And do you also recall his wife and daughter, watching from the crowd, sobbing their eyes out as you took my brother’s life in the arena?”

  I swallowed. “I do.”

  “Not that you care, but Ilva died within a week of her husband. They say it was a fever, but I know the truth. Grief killed her. Then my poor orphaned niece sent me a message that my brother’s killer was being treated as a lady and living in the castle. Fortunately, there’s a sizable group of people who want to get rid of you. I only had to join their ranks and wait for an opportunity.”

  In seconds, we were surrounded by half a dozen masked figures holding swords. Two of them held up hands coated in frost.

  “Run,” I whispered. “I’ll hold them off.”

  My companion scoffed. “I was about to say the same to you.”

  I threw him a glance from the corner of my eye. “The peace talks depend on you. Go.”

  “I’m not here to sign any treaties. Shall we, then?”

  The dignitary raised his palms and, in a gesture that held me immobile with stupefied shock, sent twin streams of vivid orange flames toward the sculptures and trees and shrubs made of ice, sweeping back and forth in a searing arc that sent our attackers shouting and stumbling and running for cover. The ice melted into a rushing stream that flowed onto the gravel path, sloshing over my toes and into my thin slippers. I continued to stare at the dignitary—the Fireblood—only the crash of my heart assuring me I hadn’t actually turned to stone.

  “Don’t worry,” he said to Drake. “That was just a little stretch. I have plenty left.” He beckoned them forward with a bend of his fingers.

  “Where the blazes did you come from?” Drake snarled. “There are no Firebloods left in Tempesia, aside from her. My brother made sure of that. I’d stake my life on it.”

  I was almost tempted to thank him for asking. I was wondering the same thing.

  The Fireblood laughed. “A foolish bet, since it’s obvious you’ve already lost. Though I’ll gladly collect your forfeit.” Cupping his hands together, he slowly pulled them apart to create a dense ball of flame that grew in size and intensity. Most of the attackers turned and ran, their boots sliding on the wet ground. Only the two Frostbloods remained with Drake, all three of them lifting their palms toward us in readiness.

  “My brother didn’t have the gift,” said Drake, “but I do. Finally, it’s a fair fight.”

  “Hardly fair when you outnumber us three to two,” I pointed out, my voice unsteady. I still couldn’t believe I was standing next to another Fireblood. Be amazed later. Fight now.

  Drake shrugged. “I was never very good at arithmetic.” He yelled an order, and a low, protective wall of frost formed. Then a blast of ice slammed toward us. My hands were ready, but the attack still knocked me off my feet. The dignitary, or whoever he was, managed to remain standing.

  Drake was right; a Fireblood of his caliber would never have escaped Rasmus’s notice.

  “Who are you really?” I asked, pushing to my feet.

  “My name is Kai,” he answered.

  “That’s not what I—”

  Another wave of frost knocked us back, turning to smoke and steam as it met our fire.

  “Form a shield,” Kai said, demonstrating by making a swirling lozenge of fire that grew in size. “Hold it steady. With me.”

  I watched and mirrored him. When the two masses of flames combined, light blinded me. I felt my way through the move, forcing the fire into an ever-larger oval.

  “Stand your ground,” he told me. “Now push forward on my mark. Hold. Hold. Now!”

  We slammed the pulsing fire shield ahead in unison and heard surprised shouts as we broke through their icy wall and the thuds of bodies as they hit the earth. As my vision cleared, I saw figures on the ground, unmoving. I sucked in a breath and stepped toward them.

  “Leave them,” said Kai, grabbing my arm. I shook free and ran the rest of the way to the attackers, pulling off the first Frostblood’s mask.

  It was Lord Regier. He wasn’t breathing. I found no pulse at his throat.

  The other mask revealed his wife, Lady Regier.

  “Oh Tempus,” I said. “They’re from Arcus’s council. He’ll be devastated.”

  I took her wrist, feeling a faint pulse. Kai shouted a warning and ran toward me, but he halted abruptly at the same moment the sharp edge of a steel blade bit into the skin at my throat.

  “Stand slowly,” Drake ordered from close behind me.

  I did as he asked, barely breathing as his other arm cinched tight around my waist.

  “You kill her, I kill you,” said Kai. “Very simple. Let her go.”

  “I swore to Fors that she would die today and I’ve never broken an oath. Now you, on the other hand, the Blue Legion wanted you dead for daring to come here. But if you leave without signing the treaty, they might let you live.”

  “Well, normally, I would be only too willing to save my own precious skin,” said Kai with alarming calm—alarming to me, at least, since I was fairly sure I couldn’t summon my heat without Drake slicing me first. “But it happens that there is something I want rather badly—and it hinges on keeping this girl alive.” He spread his hands in an apologetic gesture. “So I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you again to let her go.”

  Drake shook his head, the motion making the knife saw gently back and forth against my neck. I didn’t dare bat an eyelash at the sting.

  “You can do your best to kill me once she’s dead,” Drake said, “but an oath is an oath. She dies now.” His lips touched my ear as he whispered, “This is for my brother, Firefilth.”

  His arm tensed, and for a second I thought the last word I ever heard would be “Firefilth,” and the last thing I ever saw would be a very annoyed-looking Fireblood with hair that refused to be anything but vivid orange, even in the dim light of a nighttime garden.


  But then the vivid orange spread and lit the sky in a whip of flame that curled above and behind me, and the tension in Drake’s arm became a tremble in the rest of his body. He fought back, his chest coating with frost as he tried to ward off the fire, but the heat intensified and he screamed.

  And then my hands, which had been pressed against his arm, suddenly found they had pushed free, and I was stumbling forward onto my hands and knees, getting thoroughly soaked in an icy pool of water.

  I stayed there, just trying to catch my breath. I’d been about to die, and then I hadn’t.

  Fire had saved me. And it hadn’t been my own.

  I finally looked up to see Kai shaking his head, no longer just annoyed but properly furious. “And how long do you think I can stay here now that I’ve killed a Frostblood, hmm? They’ll be out looking for me in droves!” He spat a few words in what I could have sworn was Sudesian. From the tone, I was pretty sure he was cursing.

  “I was just nearly killed,” I pointed out shakily, rubbing my throat. “And you’re angry that I’ve spoiled your visit?”

  He made a furious gesture toward Drake’s body. “This didn’t go at all the way it was supposed to. I didn’t know you had assassins trailing at your heels.” He punctuated his thoughts with a few more foreign words. If anything, they sounded angrier and filthier than the previous curses.

  “Well, I’m so sorry my attempted murder inconvenienced you.” I struggled to stand and slipped back down onto one knee. Rather than helping me up, he pulled at his cuffs and brushed dirt from his tunic, as if fixing his appearance even mattered right now. “If you don’t want to be inconvenienced further, I suggest you leave before anyone comes. The king’s guards might have a few questions about how the southern dignitary happens to be a Fireblood. Considering they thought I was the only one left in Tempesia.”

  He gave me a pitying look. “I’m clearly not the southern dignitary. Though the disguise was rather amusing, I admit.”

  “Who, then?”

  “I gave you my real name.” He took my upper arms and hauled me to my feet. “But I’m not from the Aris Plains. I’m from Sudesia.” My body went rigid. His eyes sparkled. “Yes, we have ships, you know.”