Throne of Fire

by Addison Moore

  A laugh strums from me, but a knot builds in my stomach because a part of me doesn’t know what to do with my daughter’s powerfully strong will and lack of a filter.

  “Demetri asked me not to call him Grandfather, Grandpa, or anything of the like.” Her upper lip lifts as she glances his way. “Says it makes him feel old. But Grandpa Nathan doesn’t mind. He doesn’t let pride shroud his familial standing.”

  Nathan belts out a short-lived laugh as she takes Demetri down a notch. “That’s right. You can call me Grandpa until the cows come home. I don’t mind one bit.” He gives a sly wink my way. “Sage says she’ll be with you for a while. I think I’ll bow out of the tour of the realms.” He gives his stomach a brief pat as if he had his fill of time with my daughter, and he might have. “I’ll catch you before you head back.” He points a finger at me as he turns to leave. “I have a lot I’d like to say to you.” His eyes slit to Demetri. “And you as well.”

  I stand and take Sage by the hand while looking at my father. “I hear you have something to say.”

  “Of course.” He gives a brief tip of the head. Demetri’s dark hair, sharp features look less ferocious here in paradise than they do on Earth, but that doesn’t mean his heart is any purer. “But first, my precious granddaughter has made a request.” He looks to her. “Have you decided which realm you like best, or should we continue scouting?”

  “I like the last one plenty.” The pleasant smile dissipates from her lips as she looks to me. “Father, how dare you accept that toilet Demetri locked you in. I should have you beaten with a bag of stones for letting your comely frame enter such a disgrace.” She gives my hand a reprimanding squeeze, and I hold back the laugh waiting to tumble from my lips. “Shall we see the space that I’ve hand-selected for you?” Her tiny nose twitches as she awaits a response, and I melt at the sight of my little princess. Skyla and Sage are so very different but hold my heart just the same.

  “Let’s get to it.”

  Paradise warbles as it flees from our sight, and in its place an expansive white space materializes, a sky above, a sky below, and just beneath that I see Paragon in miniature—the ocean and its menacing waves look to be at a standstill from this height.

  “Are we above Paragon?” I’m both pleased and amused.

  “Yes.” Sage’s light voice stretches over the realm like a blessing. “Above and not below,” she says as she leads me by the hand with Demetri and Marshall close behind. “You are the head and not the tail. Subterranean realms are fine for the Counts, but you are a Fem through the blessing of Demetri’s genes, and you are worth more than some musty, algae-riddled wasteland. The Videns would never give you the respect you deserve in that hot box of germs. This”—she waves a pale hand at the cornflower-colored sky, the sparkling expanse that feels as if we’re standing in a star—“is the palace of a royal king, and you, my father, are the highness that will rule this realm.” She bows into a full-blown curtsy. “Your dominion begins right here.”

  Marshall huffs in lieu of a laugh. “Someone thinks rather highly of her father.”

  Demetri lifts a finger. “It’s true. I have gifted all authority over Countenance, and by default the Barricade to my son. They too are now his people to do as he sees fit.”

  My eyes round out at what this might mean. “You do realize that I’m still not interested in the position.”

  He gives a partial shrug as if it were an insignificant detail. “You’ll be sold before the hour is through.”

  “Yes.” Sage pulls a tight smile that dies as quick as it came. “You’ll be fully convinced in time. Our efforts to topple the Sectors will be successful rather quickly, I’m afraid.” She glowers at Dudley for a moment, and for the first time I’m actually a bit frightened for her. “You’ll need a throne, Father.” She looks to Demetri. “It must be gold with a matching spirit sword and sheath resting over the back—not visible from the front, but accessible in the event you should need it.” She walks along as we follow. “I’ll need a smaller throne, of course. I’d like to be seated at his right hand as is the Savior to our Master. I should request pearls to line the edges and a solid ruby stone to act as my footstool.” She looks to me with those serious features before looking back to Demetri. “Ruby red to represent the blood of my enemies—emerald cut with feet of silver.” Sage comes over and takes up my hand again as if she were the small innocent child her humble frame would have me believe. “Is there anything else you can think of?”

  My mouth opens and closes because it’s clear Sage here has thought of it all. I glance around at the expansive nothingness.

  “Excellent.” Demetri gives a single deafening clap. “I’ll be sure to move the fire feature I had installed in Nocturne.”

  “Nocturne,” Sage spits the moniker out like an expletive. “What a terrible name. It’s simply dirty.” She hisses his way as if to say how dare you. “Paragon in Nocturne sounds dark, depressing, oppressive. We come from a place of might. Of power. You are granite, Father, and they are dust. You must command a presence in all aspects of your existence. They shall know our swiftness, honor our celebrity. You may not gift this dominion such a silly name as you did the last.”

  I’m stunned by her soliloquy—and more so her use of the term we. It sounds cute, sort of the way a baby tiger might be adorable, but you wait long enough and it will eat you with its needlelike teeth. Something tells me Sage is waiting to do just that.

  “Your grandfather named that realm.” I offer a crooked smile to Sage as I throw him under the bus.

  She glowers over at Demetri. “Must you color us as demons when we are children of the light? We’ll need a beautiful name. Something holy and right. We shall call this dominion, Shaddai—all powerful like our God and enough for our people.”

  “Heavens,” Marshall moans as if he’s heard enough.

  Sage snaps her head in his direction without missing a beat. “Why are you here?” Her eyes dart to mine. “He’s no friend of ours, Father. Rid yourself of him this instant.”

  “Sage.” I try it sweetly the way Nathan did earlier, and now I’m afraid at how often he might need to invoke that tone with her. “Marshall is my friend. He’s your mother’s friend, too. He’s Logan’s great-grandfather or such.” Yes, Marshall is related to the Olivers, just not this one. “Don’t you see the resemblance?” Perhaps if she makes the connection, she’ll go easy on him. I want her to. There might have been a time I would have cheered her on, but not today. Not anymore by a long shot.

  Sage steps toward him a notch. “Pardon me, Sector Marshall, but I believe you and I are on opposing sides of the Gentry War. I myself am proud to side with the Fems as my own lineage dictates the decision.”

  Marshall takes a breath and expands his chest a mile wide. “Your lineage stems from Celestra as well, and just beyond that Caelestis. I do believe that Your Grace has exposed you to her royal bloodlines. Have you no allegiance with her people as well?”

  “Not with Celestra.” Sage shakes her head as if she’s both sorry and sure. She glances up at me with a look of knowing, of deep understanding. “We cannot entertain a love for the enemy. It is the spear that has the power to divide the soul and the spirit. It blurs enemy lines and gives them the foothold they need to slay us. You, my father, are the dragon. You will breathe fire and devour our enemies with the flames of your wrath. We shall take no prisoners. We shall hold no love for those that oppose our ways. It’s the only mindset we can afford during wartime. It’s completely acceptable in the bylaws. I’ve read all about them in the annals of war and spiritual destruction. The Sectors would have you believe they have conquered our kind for good, but I’m here to give you the good news.” Her lips twitch a smile. “We are able to take back the crown and reign over our oppressors. And once we procure our standing, prior to the end of the church age, our elevated status will endure for time immemorial.” She takes in a breath as if she just hugged a puppy, and my earthly-minded heart is still trying to wrap itself a
round whatever the hell she just said. “It’s okay. You don’t have to understand it all right now. You will understand in time.”

  My spirit grieves within me. A part of me never wants to understand at all. I never asked to be a part of this, to comprehend any of this.

  “Why don’t we go get Uncle Logan and hang out by the Falls for a bit?” Ahava has the most stunning waterfalls that are the blueprint to the Falls of Virtue down on Paragon. In truth, I need to soak in Logan more than I do the beauty of those falls. If anyone can help me wrap my head around all of this nonsense, it’s him.

  “Uncle Logan?” Her nose wrinkles as if I just let an obnoxious odor fly. “Father, he’s one of them.” She looks briefly to Marshall, not sparing him an accusatory glance.

  “But he’s our friend, our family.” I try my best to champion my cause. In no way am I cutting Logan out of my life.

  “We are the only family we need,” she snaps so loud, so sharp, it sounds caustic, dangerous. “He is for Celestra. I’ve sided with you, Father. He’s sided with the enemy. We despise the enemy.”

  A strangulating silence clots up this new, far too airy, realm. I look to Demetri and Dudley, but neither of them moves, their faces hard as flint.

  I lean in toward my sweet daughter, and that knot in my stomach tightens. “But what about your mother? She is Celestra. She is their leader, Sage. She will never be our enemy. We can never despise Celestra.”

  Her features tremble with rage. Her eyes narrow in on mine with a fierce level of anger that I have never seen in a person before.

  “All of you out!” Sage shouts so loud, her voice resonates over my face like a gunshot at close range. But neither Demetri nor Marshall moves an inch. “Fine,” she barks at the two of them. “Turn around. Do me that in the least.” And slowly they comply. Both Demetri and Dudley turn their backs to us.

  “Come here, Father.” She curls her tiny finger at me, and I offer a complacent smile before leaning in another inch. Her hand glides over my face so fast, so hard, it feels as if I was just swatted with a live coal. “That was me slapping some sense into you. Do you have it now?”

  My eyes harden over hers a moment. For as darling and sweet as I may have dismissed just about every other malfeasance, I don’t know quite what to do with this one. I can see both Demetri and Dudley glancing over their shoulder with my peripheral vision.

  “Sage,” I whisper her name as a swell of disbelief takes over. “You may not hit your father. You may not strike anyone. Do you hear me? That is not how we get others to see our point of view.”

  Her lucent eyes glide over my features, that stoic look never leaving her face. “Perhaps you should commit to memory the fact I have struck you once and I’m not above repeating the effort. You are the king, Father. You have a dominion to run, kingdoms to topple. First, you will dismantle the Sectors, and then you will destroy Celestra. Mother must fall, and her people will follow. Your kingdom and yours alone will reign supreme. Don’t worry, my father”—her tiny hand cradles the skin she seared just moments prior—“I still hold the remnants of affection for her. But you know what they say. All is fair in love and war.” She strides deeper into the expansive vast blue nothingness and shouts, “Demetri—Uncle Wesley has a castle, and I think we need one, too.”

  “Yes, my love.” Demetri offers a sly wink my way before taking off after her.

  I rise to my feet, my gut twisted in a boulder after that rude awakening Sage just offered up—and I’m talking about her attitude, not her skewed point of view.

  Dudley comes over and offers a hand to my shoulder. “Who do you see most in young Sage? Skyla—yourself perhaps?”

  “Neither. I see a nefarious combination of Candace Messenger and Demetri Edinger. A dangerous combination if ever there was one.”

  “It’s not just dangerous. It’s downright poisonous.”

  “How do I right this?” I can only pray Dudley can offer up the words I need to hear.

  “You lead by example.”

  Lead by example. As the newfound leader of the Fems, I find this an impossible, improbable task.

  After an extensive detailing of Sage’s wish list, we make our way back to paradise where Demetri demands I follow him to a bridge made of boulders, a vantage point set just beneath the holy mountain adjacent to the River of Life. There’s a stone table set just north of the glowing woods, and we head to it—if Paragon’s forests were alive with fog, these woods are alive with an infusion of living light.

  “What’s this?” I ask as he rolls out a scroll before me.

  “A mere formality. This is the recording of the covenant you entered into the night of the boys’ christening.” Demetri’s thin lips pull into that tight signature smile of his. He’s still decked out in a dark suit. His shoes reflect the unearthly glow that this place has about it in general. And as much as I’d like to believe Demetri is a fish out of water in these parts, he’s not. Demetri Edinger fits into the landscape without so much of a hiccup. It’s alarming in the most practical sense.

  “Ah, yes.” I thump it with my middle finger and mean it. “I gift my soul to you in servitude, in lieu of the fact you stay the heck away from my kids. Can I throw my wife in there, too? Because I wouldn’t mind amending some of these rules now that you have the original document set out for us to ogle.”

  “It’s too late for redlining the agreement.” He releases the edges, and the parchment is quick to roll right back up in a tight little column. His dark eyes pin themselves to mine. “You’ll have a new body soon enough.” He sheds an amicable smile. “The old body is just a borrowed rag compared to what’s to come.”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  “Shall we discuss what’s to happen once you head back to the planet?”

  “The planet.” I look out into those iridescent woods and shake my head. “You make it sound like this is all some sci-fi Saturday night special we’re gearing up for. But it’s not. It’s my life.”

  “It’s your afterlife,” he’s quick to point out. “And it’s pertinent to our people you achieve your goals as quick as possible. The best way to undercut your enemy is to catch her off guard.”

  “Lay it out for me quick and dirty. I don’t need a wordy road map. Cut to the chase. What’s the bottom line? What do you want me to do?”

  Those slate darts that he sees the world through bear into me as if he were imprinting the information right onto my soul.

  “You reunite with Skyla,” he says it slowly, drawing out the words as if he were trying to hypnotize me. “She is the love of your life. For you there will be no other. There is only Skyla for you, Gage—your one true love.”

  My stomach sinks. “Why in the hell are you selling this so hard?” A quick spasm of pain ricochets through me, the worst charley horse you have ever felt hitting you everywhere all at once. “Shit.” It strikes again, only this time with a little more bite.

  Demetri holds a hand up as if to stop another expletive from flying past my lips. “Language, my son. You are not your own. You were bought with a price. A little reverence is all the Master asks.”

  “Got it.” I tip my head back and take a quick breath. I still haven’t figured out if I actually need the breath or if it’s just the memory of breathing that has me engaging in the act. There are so many physical acts I’d love to engage in—all of them with Skyla, all of them of a carnal nature. “So yes, Skyla and me. I take it that pleases you because you think she’ll cave, go easy on the Fems, spill her secrets in bed. You don’t know Skyla. She’ll do none of those things. She’s not caving. She’s not selling Celestra for a song.” Or anything else I might have to offer, but I leave that part out.

  “I don’t want any of it. I don’t need it,” he says it so fast, every internal alarm in me goes off. “All I want is your happiness. You could never leave your beautiful family. All I ask is—you with Skyla for as long as she lives. Is that too hard a command for you to follow?” A grin crops up on his face, and my suspi
cions rise right along with it.

  I glance to the holy mountain as if crying out for help. “No. It’s not too hard.” I look back at my father, his entire being emanating with glee. “I love Skyla. She is very much the love of my life. But I’m afraid our time has passed. She’s alive and I’m dead. She has goals and dreams for her people that are in complete opposition to what I’m to adhere to.”

  Demetri steps in, hostile and uninviting. “You are to obey me. And my first and only order of business is to procure Skyla as your spirit wife. A binding covenant to bridge your souls until she herself comes home. You will raise your children in your rightful place, the earthly home you share with your beloved.”

  My mind reels trying to process it all. I want that more than anything, Skyla and me, the boys—our family circle forever unbroken. Deep down, I know she wants it, too. But there’s more to consider—before I can finish my next thought Logan Oliver himself crests the horizon, offering a simple wave as he jogs on over.

  “It’s Logan.” I nod into him as if he were the answer I was looking for. “You don’t want Skyla with Logan. That’s what this is about.”

  “Skyla doesn’t want to be with Logan,” he answers swift and matter-of-fact. “The needle to her compass has always pointed to you, Gage. Don’t let the enemy dissuade you from the truth. She is yours. You were always meant for her. It was her heart and mind that designed your very being, Gage. Had she desired his features, you would have them.” He offers a firm slap to my shoulder.

  I remember that conversation we had years ago regarding my genetic makeup, my features, my eyes, hair, my frame. “But it wasn’t just Skyla’s psyche you polled. It was Chloe’s as well.” Chloe Bishop. A chill runs through me at the mention of her name.

  “Yes, well”—Demetri glances past me at Ahava, where Candace sits in the middle of the lake with the rest of the Decision Council—“she didn’t need her, after all, did she? But fate is far too vain to give away the kingdom. Sending a child to the throne is akin to a seat there yourself. They will fight to keep it.”