Chapter 42
Seren
Screams reached me as I broke through the surface of the water. Rykr’s connection to me had somehow broken and I lifted my head, horrified as I watched the stands burst into flame.
My alarm only deepened as I saw the source of the fire.
Rykr.
The fire roared toward the parapet like a living thing, tendrils of flame licking at the stone, curling hungrily toward the wooden beams. Screams echoed—high, sharp, and endless.
The scent of burning flesh thickened the air, and through the haze of smoke, I saw people falling, their bodies still alight as they tumbled from the stands.
Haldron and his council scrambled back, their robes catching fire as they slapped at the flames, their shouts lost beneath the howl of Rykr’s fury.
I rasped a breath.
All these people—the Viori screaming and fleeing for their lives—were going to die if I didn’t stop Rykr. Some power inside him had been unleashed. But Esme was still in the water, along with Ciaran and Tara—my gods, were any of them even alive still? What if there were more serpents?
This time, I was going after Esme.
I dove back under.
My eyes stung in the water as I searched, though the fire burning in the Havamal made it easier to see in the murky water.
They’d been under for so long. Was it even possible for them to hold their breath this long?
Please. Don’t let them die.
My lungs were already burning.
Then I saw them: Tara, Ciaran, and Esme.
My gods.
They were alive … and swimming toward me.
I surfaced, my breath shallow, sending ripples across the water. then their heads popped through. “What happened?” I managed, swimming toward them. “How did you get the cage open?”
Tara kept an arm under Esme’s frail torso, swimming with her toward the edge of the lake. “Ciaran. He bent the metal bars back.” Tara cast a worried look as he lagged behind us. “He’s losing blood in that arm though. We need to get him help and soon.”
Thank the gods for Ciaran. If he hadn’t been here ...
I shuddered at the thought.
Amahle helped us out of the water, then I caught Esme in my arms, embracing her with a sob. “I’m so sorry, Esme,” I managed, dipping my forehead against hers. “I’m so sorry it took us this long to save you.”
“I’m okay,” she whispered, teeth chattering. “I’m all right, Seren.” Her voice was small. Too small. And she wouldn’t quite meet my eyes.
I swallowed hard, pretending to believe her, and grasped her shoulders. “Did he hurt you?”
“No, I’m okay,” Esme repeated, her face drawn and tired.
I nodded mutely, too overcome with emotion to speak, then Tara and I helped her stand.
“We have to get out of here,” Amahle said, her voice urgent, her eyes dark with worry. “Your husband lit the whole place on fire.”
I had to stop him. Handing Esme over to Tara, I bolted, flying past the bodies and mud between Rykr and me.
The roar of fire and screams melted into a low, distant hum.
My body felt distant, sluggish. The poison.
Solric’s light, how much time did I even have left? As I reached Rykr, I grabbed his elbow.
But something inside me hesitated.
What if I didn’t stop him?
What if I let him burn Emberstone to the ground?
No. Gods, no. This isn’t who we are. This isn’t who I love. “Rykr. Stop. It’s finished now.”
A wet trail moved from the corner of my mouth, and I wiped it away, seeing the blood on the back of my hand before I tasted it.
Rykr turned sharply, his eyes glowing red, sending fear spiraling through me.
The man I loved was in there.
He had to be.
But standing in the center of this inferno, flames curling around his shoulders like a mantle of destruction, he looked more like a god of destruction than the man I loved.
I rose to the tips of my toes and kissed him. “Stop,” I begged. “Please stop.”
The redness faded from his eyes, then Rykr’s arm tightened around my waist. He blinked down at me. “Seren.” Sweeping me into his arms, he strode across the Havamal through pockets of smoke and flame.
He stopped in front of my friends. “Get her out of here,” Rykr ordered Ciaran, handing me over to my friend. “Out of the Havamal and out of Emberstone. Don’t stop and for gods’ sake, don’t wait for me. I’m going after Haldron—ending this once and for all.”
“No!” I gasped, reaching for Rykr. Ciaran held me close, though, his grip as strong as iron. “No, please.”
“Let me help you,” Amahle’s voice was low, her dark eyes appealing to Rykr. “You can’t do it alone.” But she was wounded too, blood continuing to seep from the gash on her leg.
“No, I have to do this alone. Go, now.” Rykr set a hand on Ciaran’s shoulder. “Please. Guard her with your life.”
Rykr turned to go.
“No, Rykr, no.” I pushed away from Ciaran feebly. “No, don’t do this. I love you.”
He bent near me and kissed my forehead. “And I love you. Now get out of here.”
I attempted to lunge for him, but my efforts were futile. Ciaran was far too strong.
“I don’t want you to go,” I begged Rykr, my tears flowing more freely as I reached for him.
“I have to. For my father, and my brothers.” He kissed my hands then strode away, disappearing into the thick smoke.
I whirled to look for Tara, Esme, and Amahle, who flanked Ciaran as he hurried through the Havamal. I rubbed my bleary eyes, coughing against Ciaran’s chest. Spatters of blood accompanied each cough.
Tara touched my forehead, concern written on her face. “That bastard, Seth. Gods, Seren, you look terrible. We need to find Mother. She might be the only one who can heal you.”
Amahle stroked my back. “We have to keep moving, Seren. We’ll fight our way through the Vangar to get you out of here if necessary, but the more time we take, the more people we’ll have to face.”
Get me out of here?
“What do you mean?” I managed, my body shaking more violently.
“Your husband just announced to the entire Viori—and Haldron—that he’s the king of Lirien, Ser.”
Ciaran and Tara stumbled, then exchanged a look. Even Esme’s eyes went wide, though she couldn’t understand what had happened in her absence. “Wait a second—what?” Ciaran asked.
“There’s no time to explain right now.” Amahle panted as we ran.
“But it turns out Seren didn’t just bond herself with a Lirien—she bonded herself with the prince.
And if we don’t get her the hell out of the Dreadwood right now, she’s going to have every Vangar warrior in the territory hunting her. ”
Tara still held Esme close, but there was a tension in her shoulders now, something different. Amahle, usually so quick to reassure me, didn’t say anything.
I looked at them—really looked at them—and saw what I hadn’t wanted to see.
I wasn’t one of them anymore.
They knew it. I knew it. And yet, some stubborn part of me refused to believe it.
I wasn’t just running for my life. I was running because I’d been cast out. I couldn’t remain here anymore.
I’d made myself an enemy of the Viori. Proven Ciaran right.
I was a traitor. My husband is the king of Lirien. Gods!
“And my family?” I managed. “Where will you go?”
Tara ran her fingers through her short hair. “The hell if I know. One problem at a time right now.”
I shook my head. “No. I refuse to be dragged away like this. Seth poisoned me with dragon’s blood, and I don’t know if I have much time left. Don’t you see? You’re the ones who have to escape. You’re the ones they’re going to punish.”
The fire from the stands singed us, the heat intensifying as we drew closer to the tunnels. Would there even be a place to escape from? The gates into the arena were all closed.
I didn’t want this.
Didn’t want them to die for me.
But Ciaran kept barreling forward, his speed increasing as we drew closer.
“This way!” a familiar voice called. Ciaran nearly skidded to a stop.
Darya stood near one of the tunnels on the inside, turning the crank to open it. Her face was filled with worry, fear, and defiance. After Seth’s betrayal, I didn’t trust her, but we had no other options.
We ran toward her as smoke and ash rained down on top of us, a shower of sparks and embers landing on our hair and skin. A massive wooden structure—the roof attached to the parapet—began to collapse.
If it fell, it would block our path into the tunnel.
My friends ran faster, Tara hauling Esme so quickly that my younger sister’s feet stumbled. Amahle left a trail of blood, the movement speeding the loss of blood.
At last, we tumbled into the open gate, just as a deluge of flame and smoke landed behind us.
Falling to his knees, Ciaran still held me close, but I pushed away, onto the ground.
“Thank you,” I rasped, the only one of us not gasping for air.
Darya’s hands were still on the crank. She wasn’t shaking.
My stomach twisted.
Too calm. Too steady.
“No,” Darya murmured, and I barely heard the shift in her voice before she moved. “Thank you.”
The blade flashed.
My breath caught—too late, too late. I saw the blade coming, but I couldn’t move fast enough.
But Ciaran could. Did.
His hands slammed into my shoulders—a hard, desperate shove that sent me crashing against the tunnel wall. My head snapped back, pain ricocheting through my skull. My fingers brushed his sleeve before Darya’s blade found him instead.
The sound it made was sickening. Soft, almost.
Ciaran gasped, his fingers jerking around the blade buried in his chest. Darya wrenched the sword free. Blood sprayed, a warm mist against my skin.
And Ciaran staggered. His mouth opened, lips forming my name …
Then he crumpled.