by Elly Blake
I spoke softly, because the throne was on edge, its consciousness straining toward Arcus the way a dog tugs at the end of its leash when it sees a nice fat rabbit nearby. Everything in me wanted to soften the Minax’s craving, to appease it. With my voice, if not my actions.
Kill him, kill him, the throne chanted.
“Stop it,” I whispered to the throne. “You don’t need his death. You have the blood of all the Frostblood servants who made these tunnels.”
Not enough, never enough, the throne chanted. Powerful beyond measure. His frost vastly strong. His death would be a feast. Yours for the killing, Daughter of Darkness. To make you strong beyond measure, your fire and your dark. Unmatched power. Incendiary power. Bliss.
I turned my back on it angrily, my whole body shaking with the effort of separating its desires from my own.
“Arcus,” I said, trying to reclaim myself, to reassert my identity. “Remember the shard must be no smaller than a coin.”
The Minax screamed, a howling excoriation of the quiet places in my mind, like a gale-force wind that scrapes mountains bare. I covered my ears, but the sound was inside me, shearing my nerve endings and stabbing through my veins. My shoulder bashed the rough wall as I tried to escape. Then arms came around me.
“Ruby, I’m here. You’re not alone. We have to do this.” The low rumble of Arcus’s voice soothed me. I grabbed his collar and held on as the scream faded.
“It wants…” I shook my head, eyes wide but unseeing, as if the sound had stolen all other senses.
“Don’t listen to it,” he said, pulling my attention back with his commanding tone. “Listen to me. You can do this. We can.” He held me tight for a few seconds, his cold lips pressing firm kisses to the top of my head, brushing the pulse at my temple, gliding across my cheek.
Everything else faded as the mindless pleasure of feeling his cool lips took every ounce of my attention. It had been so long since we’d touched like this. I realized in that moment how scared I’d been that he would never hold me again. Layers of distance between us fell away, melted by his hands curved tenderly over my shoulders, the gentle brush of lips on my forehead. I wanted to burrow into the comfort he offered and live there for a while, cherished and protected.
The reassuring scent of his skin calmed me, and I drew strength from his size, from his natural self-assurance, from his steadfast belief in me. When I felt ready, I nodded and pushed him away, straightening.
“Let’s get it done,” I said, all calm resolution on the outside, while my insides quaked with nerves.
“If you melt the rock completely, you will free it,” Prince Eiko warned. “You must leave a portion intact.”
Do not trust him. Do not trust him, said the Minax. This throne is yours for the taking. Our union will bring you extraordinary power. Embrace me.
“I know,” I replied to Prince Eiko, shoving the voice away. “Arcus, I’m not… myself right now. I may… I may lose track of the size of the shard.”
His eyes were shadowed, but I felt their intensity. “I’ll tell you when to stop.”
We moved forward until we stood about two arm lengths from the throne. Close enough to attack, but far enough that I couldn’t touch it. I knew instinctively that physical contact with the throne was dangerous for me. The frost Minax had been an invasion, an insidious voice in my head. The fire Minax felt like an extension of self. A universe where I could happily dwell forever.
I shuddered.
It was my enemy. My enemy.
I began with a stream of fire, a simple blast of pure orange flame directed at the line where the seat and back met—what I thought of as its heart. Arcus welded a ribbon of ice to my fire. The fire and frost curled together, two separate strands that merged into one writhing cataract, flowing like a torrent of glistening blue-white water, sinuous and elegant. Blue sparks flared from the column like shooting stars before winking out. I shut my eyes against the blinding light—so bright, it filtered through my eyelids. The room suddenly felt cooler. Like a summer day when a cloud moves over the sun.
The Minax thrashed in agony, its voice grating like knives dragged over chain mail. Cold, cold, hate it! Stop him! Kill him!
I felt its burning, stinging, unbearable hurt as my own.
“Ruby,” Arcus said sharply, “look at me.”
I couldn’t. Couldn’t answer, couldn’t even shake my head. I couldn’t do anything but throw out fire, and I could barely do that. Pain, so much pain. Any more of this and I would—
“Ruby. Look. At. Me.”
Somehow, my muscles obeyed and my head turned. When I opened my eyes, circles of white danced over my vision as if I’d stared directly into the sun. I blinked hard until I could see. Arcus’s pupils were pinpoints, his irises bleached almost white by the reflection of the strange, bright fire. He scrutinized me, searching my eyes, then my wrists. I realized he was searching me for signs of possession.
I turned back to check our progress. The throne wept lava, now reduced to a misshapen blob about half its original size. I gritted my teeth, maintaining the flow. My limbs shook with fatigue. It felt as if I were destroying myself.
“You can do this,” Arcus said, his confidence bolstering mine.
I shut my eyes again. More fire, more pain. Time crawled.
When I opened my eyes, I saw our progress was too slow. I was shaky and exhausted and the throne was still only half-melted. Lava oozed from it in rivulets, sliding toward the edges of the room.
In a moment of inspiration, I used my gift to gather the lava on the floor, lifting it and forcing it back toward the throne. The lava joined the frostfire, bursting with blue-white light and heating to a painful degree. Arcus gasped. There was a shuffle as he changed position, backing up to put a few inches more distance between himself and the lava. The throne melted faster, its outline flattening and shrinking. My fire was nearly spent. I closed my eyes to focus, hoping my last shreds of endurance would be enough.
A shift. A change. The Minax’s pain turned to anticipation. Excitement. Its prison was melting. Its tether had nearly snapped.
So close.
“Stop, Ruby, stop!” Arcus put shaking hands on my shoulders, leaning heavily on me as he brought me back to myself. “It’s done.”
I reined in my fire. A rogue wave of relief knocked my legs out from under me. Arcus was as unsteady as I was, and I brought him down with me. We stayed on our knees, breathing heavily. One of his arms went around my waist and he pulled me against him, my back against his chest.
So close to freedom, the Minax raged. True vessel… please…
Its grief was so acute, I lifted my hand to comply, to try to melt the small, flat shard of rock that sat where the throne had been. Arcus caught my hand in his own and gently pulled my arm down.
“It’s done, Ruby.”
I shuddered.
Then, pulled by an unbearably strong compulsion, I broke free of his hold and picked up the shard. It was smaller than my palm and felt like the kind of smooth stone you’d find in a riverbed.
A sharp sensation of extreme heat flooded my arm and eased into numbness. My head spun, and then nothing hurt at all. I was suddenly floating. Incandescent. I held the shard to my cheek. It was as smooth as silk. Soft as fur. It caressed me like a mother’s hand.
True vessel, it said. Its voice was my voice. Its thoughts, my thoughts. Finally, it breathed. Alone for so long. Now we will be one.
This is what I’d come to Sudesia to find. Suddenly I knew that this was the real reason I’d trained and bled and tested my limits with the Fireblood masters. For this moment.
The shard was swept from my hand. It fell to the floor, bouncing and tumbling end over end until it settled, glistening black, into the shallow indentation where the throne had been. I screeched and dove after it. A viselike grip wrapped around my upper arm.
“Don’t touch it!”
There was a strange, animal keening. It took me a second to realize it came from my ow
n throat. I struggled against Arcus’s restraining hand, heat building in my chest. I needed to burn him—anything to make him let me go.
The Minax was still trapped in that shard and I needed it. I needed the Minax with me. Part of me. Forever.
I threw myself forward. His arms clamped tighter and I was lifted off the floor, my feet kicking ineffectually. I put my head forward, preparing to slam the back of it into his face, when his voice rumbled at my ear.
“Ruby. Please. Remember who you are. Who I am.”
His arms were cold around me. Heat came off me in waves. I heard the unevenness of his breathing. This place, my heat, the lava—it must have been so uncomfortable for him. It was this awareness of him that made me come back to myself.
I sucked in a breath and let out a sob. My muscles went slack.
Arcus exhaled and relaxed. “Come away from it.” He led me away from the shard. I could still see it from the corner of my eye. It winked invitingly, illuminated by the glow of lava just inches away.
Prince Eiko moved forward and scooped up the shard in a handkerchief, depositing it in a pocket.
Arcus took my face in his hands, the cold from his fingers steadying me, the familiar blue of his eyes seizing my gaze and holding it, tethering me to him. To reality.
“It’s all right,” he said soothingly, but I could tell from the underlying tension in his voice that it wasn’t. “We have to leave.”
Under normal circumstances, I would’ve taken action. Offered options. Given orders. But I couldn’t think. Everything was hazy and blunted, the only clear thought that I wanted to get the shard back.
As we moved toward the exit, Prince Eiko led the way. “I will take you to a branch that leads to the eastern side of the island where Ruby said the ship is hidden.”
But as we neared the doorway, a silhouette blocked the opening.
TWENTY-SIX
THE FIGURE STROLLED FORWARD, removing a huge black shawl that fell to the floor. Torchlight shimmered over wheat-gold hair and tinted her white gown with an angry light, making her look both celestial and terrifying. Shadows hollowed out her sunken cheeks. She still looked gaunt, but much stronger than I’d remembered from my visit to the ship.
“Marella?” I murmured in amazement.
I glanced at Arcus. He looked shocked, then furious. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing here, but this isn’t a party, for Tempus’s sake. Get out of here before—”
“You always underestimate me,” she broke in, sounding irritated. “You do realize that just because I dress well doesn’t mean I’m a featherbrain?”
“Marella, this is not the time,” I warned. Then, because I couldn’t help myself, I asked, “How did you even get here?”
“Through the tunnels, of course. I had a guide who knew the location of the throne. My own personal shadow.” Though her words made no sense, her tone was relaxed and smooth, as if we all sat at a grand table for a court dinner. “Now, where is the shard? Ah, yes. I sense the tall one has it. Prince… Eiko, is it? If you’d just hand that to me, I’d be much obliged.” She waltzed up to him and held her palm out.
He regarded her in stunned silence.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Marella explained. “But if you don’t hand over the shard, I’ll have to.”
“Marella,” I said desperately, “what are you doing?”
“I want the shard,” she said slowly, as if talking to a simpleton. She beckoned to Prince Eiko.
“I’m not giving it to you,” he snapped, clearly outraged by this confusing turn of events.
She dropped her hand. “Well, I suppose it’s as good a time as any to test my new abilities.”
She closed her eyes and dark tendrils flowed from her pale hair. A gossamer shadow took form in the air above her. First, its shoulders bristled with protrusions that appeared to be jagged icicles, with similar pointed shapes forming a crown on its head. Then there were hints of a humanlike upper body.
Dread sank talons into my fast-beating heart.
Somehow, the frost Minax was here.
As it hovered in the air, it whispered in a sibilant language I couldn’t decipher, though I could hear the fire Minax answering in the same tongue.
Both of them. Here. No!
Then, to my utter horror, Marella spoke in the same language, as easy and familiar as friends gossiping over tea.
A wash of ice settled at the base of my spine. Arcus was suddenly in front of me.
Terror elongated Prince Eiko’s face, accentuating the bones in his cheeks. “What—”
Marella fluttered a hand at the hovering shadow. “I’m sorry, how rude of me. You don’t understand its language. The Minax said ‘Give us the shard.’” She held her hand out again, palm up. “I hope you’re more willing now.”
We all stared helplessly. The Minax wasn’t something you could fight with frost or fire. It was made of mist and midnight.
“No,” Prince Eiko said shakily.
The shadow creature flowed toward him, its obsidian tendrils disappearing into his hands, which had come up to ward it off. His eyes widened and he jerked a couple of times before reaching, puppetlike, into his pocket and pulling out the shard. He extended his arm and dropped it into Marella’s outstretched palm.
She flashed a smile, as sparkling as a sunlit waterfall and as infectious as typhoid, the one I’d seen charm a roomful of courtiers. “Thank you.”
The shadow creature left Prince Eiko’s body and floated toward me. Arcus sent out a blast of frost that went right through its transparent form.
True vessel, it begged, drawing nearer. I shrank back instinctively.
“Return to me,” Marella commanded, and the frost Minax flowed back into her instantly.
“Marella,” Arcus said, sounding horrified, “how long has that… thing… been part of you?”
“It wasn’t easy,” she said softly. “I had to find it in Tevros. Convince it to choose me as its next host when the previous one—rather conveniently, mind you—died in a brawl over a game of dice. And then there was hiding my… condition… on the ship. Luckily, seasickness is an excellent cover for Minax possession.” Her breathy laugh raised a fresh crop of goose bumps on my arms. “That’s why I had to stay in my poorly lit cabin most of the time. I couldn’t let you see my veins. Also, I truly did feel ill at times, and then I had these strange visions… .I think I saw you, Ruby. In the Fireblood school, and once when you were in a cave or something. There was fire and lava. Did you see me? On the ship?”
“I think so,” I answered, feeling sick. I’d seen someone on a ship. It must have been Marella, or rather the frost Minax that was somehow still connected to me, sending me images she was seeing.
She nodded. “Most people who are possessed don’t survive longer than a week, but I’m stronger than most people.” She glanced at Arcus. “Sometimes at night I sent the Minax into one of your sailors for a few hours to give myself a rest. If you heard someone screaming with nightmares, that would be why.”
A razor-sharp chill skittered over my body, raising every tiny hair on my arms and the back of my neck.
“You’re mad,” Arcus breathed.
“Not mad. Tired. Tired of having to behave like a ninny to fulfill my father’s expectations for what a lady should be. Tired of being underestimated by you and the court. Tired of being passed over. Tired of pretending to be so much less than I am.”
“What are you planning to do?” I asked.
She moved gracefully toward Arcus, whose whole body tensed.
“Arcus, you’re going to step away from Ruby,” she instructed with a small, chilling smile.
“No,” he said firmly.
She moved closer. “You’re going to move away from her now.”
“No!” He lifted a hand to stop her approach.
She stopped inches away. “If you hurt me, if you knock me out, the Minax will merely be free to do as it wishes. You know what follows. Death. Pain. Madness. It will inhabit
whomever it chooses and you will have no control over it. I, however, control it perfectly. As you have seen. And by the way, Prince Eiko can stop right now or he will be the first to die!”
She swiveled suddenly, catching Prince Eiko just feet behind her.
“Get back to the wall,” she ordered.
The prince moved to the wall, the rage in his eyes spitting green fire.
“I don’t need you, Arcus, or you, Prince,” she said with a flap of her hand. “You can both leave.”
They didn’t move.
“I can see you’re not taking me seriously.” Her jaw hardened. She pointed at Prince Eiko and the Minax seeped into the air again, then flowed into his body. This time, he gave an earsplitting shriek of agony that echoed off the cavern walls. He dropped to his knees.
I sensed the exultation of the Minax, both of them, as they absorbed the joy of his suffering.
Marella said, “Return to me,” and the shadow arced toward her and disappeared into her veins. “Now that you know what I’m capable of, I suggest you leave. Or should I just kill you?”
Prince Eiko grabbed the wall and hauled himself to his feet, then turned to face Marella again.
“Go, Prince Eiko,” I said pleadingly.
“I brought you here. I won’t leave you.” He brought his hands up, palms tilted at Marella to attack. She watched him, poised. A snake about to strike.
“You can’t fight this with fire, Prince Eiko,” I said. “Please, go now.”
The corner of Marella’s mouth twitched up, as if she enjoyed his indecision.
“Just go,” I repeated. “Please!” Hearing the urgency in my voice, he backed toward the door and, with a reluctant glance, left the cavern.
“Now you, Arcus,” she said calmly, tilting her pert chin toward the entrance.
He shook his head. “Only if Ruby leaves with me.”
Marella closed her eyes, and the Minax came for him, its onyx talons outstretched. He put up his forearm to block. I waited for that sickening moment when the tendrils would penetrate his skin.
Instead, it recoiled visibly, jerking back as if rebounding off an invisible barrier.
