Heat of the Everflame (The Kindred’s Curse Saga #3)

Chapter 52

Chapter

Fifty-Two

“ M other?”

It was a whisper. A prayer. A plea.

“Diem? Is that you?”

I lurched forward a few steps, then froze. It seemed too much to hope that this was real.

For months, I’d lived in the limbo of her absence. If she was dead, I’d have to mourn her. If she was alive, I’d have to confront her. I feared both with equal dread, so I’d never allowed myself to plant my feet in either camp.

Even after learning she was alive—even after seeing it with my own eyes on Coeur?le—I’d barricaded myself in the ‘ we can’t be sure ’ of it all. With no guarantee I’d ever see her again, I’d pushed away the hope just as fiercely as the grief.

And now my purgatory was over.

“ Diem! ”

My mother’s voice shattered as she hoarsely called my name. Her copper-red hair was dark with filth, but even in the shadows, it shone like a ruby in the moonlight.

I threw myself against the bars and reached an arm through, desperate for the feel of her beneath my palm. Her hand stretched shakily toward me.

“Mother,” I gasped. “Come here—let me see you.”

Her hand trembled, then fell limply to the floor. She struggled to get up amid stifled whimpers.

I stilled. “Mother? Are you alright?”

Two mortals rushed to her side. Gingerly, they hooked her arms around their necks. A soft cry of pain escaped her at the sudden movement.

“What’s wrong with her?” I hissed at the King.

His mouth set in a firm line. “She was given a chance to cooperate with our interrogations. She chose not to do so.”

“Diem,” she croaked.

I strained toward her again and let out a sob as my fingertips grazed her shoulders. “Mother, please, look at me.”

The mortals carried her closer. Her drooping head lolled to the side, then tilted up to the light.

Red clouded my vision.

The red of her vibrant hair, hacked in choppy pieces above her too-thin shoulders.

The red of the blood on her hollowed face, coating her swollen-shut eye and half-bent nose.

The red of my rage, reawakened and screaming for retribution.

“You tortured her,” I shouted.

“What do you expect?” the King said testily. “She has information that could stop the war and save thousands of lives. We have a moral obligation to get it by any means necessary.”

I might have murdered him right then and there had Luther not intervened in my place.

“There’s nothing moral about beating a defenseless person,” he thundered. He flew into the King’s face, sending him staggering until his back collided with a wall. “These people are in your care. It’s your duty to keep them safe .”

The King flicked up his shield and sneered. “I’m keeping the people who matter safe.”

Luther slammed his fist against the shimmering dome. The King flinched, then growled and raised his palm.

I threw my shield around Luther and turned back to my mother.

“Diem,” she whispered. “I missed you, my little warrior.”

Fire burned through my throat. “I missed you, too. Oh gods, Mother... I missed you so much.”

Her head bobbled in a fight to stay up. I cupped my hands beneath her jaw, my heart aching at her grimace of pain. I darted a glance at the shouting match behind me, then unleashed my healing magic into her skin.

I flowed alongside my godhood as it surveyed her many wounds. Broken bones galore, a punctured lung, a shattered knee. Her back was slashed to ribbons. One tooth was missing, another loose.

My wrath nearly escaped in a feral scream. I poured it into my magic and growled at my godhood to make my mother whole.

A bright light flashed beneath my hands, and she slumped forward with a breathy groan. Slowly her legs trembled, steadied, then straightened. She stared at me, mouth agape. “Did you...?”

I hushed her, nervously glancing at the King.

Her eyes rose to my Crown. “But... I thought...”

“I’ll explain later,” I whispered. “Don’t let him know what I’ve done.”

She gave a shallow nod. The mortals hovered close, watching me with blatant doubt. She patted their shoulders. “Thank you, Brothers. Would you give me a moment with my little girl?”

I bristled, then nearly laughed. I was a grown woman, a Queen, a conquering hero come to break her free—but in her eyes, I was still her little girl .

She pressed her palm to my cheek. “It’s only been a few months, but you look so different. Older. So much stronger, too.”

“It’s been almost a year. Much has happened.”

Her gaze flicked again to my Crown. “It seems it has.”

All my thoughts warred in a race to my lips. A thousand burning questions demanded to be asked, each one more urgent than the next. But it wasn’t the questions that choked me silent.

“Teller is well,” I managed to croak out.

Her eyes squeezed closed. “Thank the gods. I heard news of you, but nothing of him.”

“He’s fine. Sad, but fine. Healthy. Living in the palace. I get to call him a Prince now.” I laughed between sniffles. “He hates it.”

Her smile wobbled with the tremble of her lower lip, eyes gleaming with unshed tears. “When they were torturing me, they told me things. About you... and about Andrei.”

My father’s name on her lips was more than I could take. The dread of this revelation had been haunting me for weeks.

“What did they say about Father?” I forced out.

“Vile things. Cruel things, to hurt me.” Her voice began to shake. “They said he’s...”

She didn’t finish.

And I didn’t answer.

The despair on my face, and the horror on hers, spoke the words neither of us could bear to say aloud.

She collapsed against the bars, her broken-hearted sob filling every corner and every shadow. My arms pulled her closer, but my own knees felt unstable as sorrow lacerated through my soul. The wound of my father’s death ripped open anew, and we clung to each other, bleeding out our agony.

The shouting behind me stopped. The mortals fell quiet in their cells. An awful silence settled around us, broken only by my mother’s weeping.

We stayed like that for a long while, my tears tumbling silently as hers fell in loud, heaving gasps. I held her as close as the bars would allow, tugging her so hard I feared we’d both be left bruised.

“They mentioned a fire,” she whispered.

I winced. “That’s just the story we told.”

“Story?”

“He was stabbed.” My throat worked. “Murdered.”

Her body deflated. She clutched the bars, her forehead sinking against them.

“After the attack on the island?” Her voice was barely audible. “Because of me?”

“No. Before. Because of me.” I couldn’t look at her. “Whoever killed him left messages for me.”

“What kind of messages?”

Memories of the blood-smeared walls of my family home flashed through my head.

“Mortal lover. Half-breed.”

Rebel scum , I thought, though I held that detail back. This was my guilt to bear, not hers.

The anguish on my mother’s face slowly sagged away, replaced by a hardened wrath. She seemed to have aged ten years in that one moment, the slaughter of her beloved stealing the final traces of hopeful youth. “Do you know who it was?”

“I have suspicions, but no proof. There were plenty of Descended with a motive. I had few allies then.” I shifted uneasily. “I have few allies now .”

“You must go to the Guardians. They’ll help you find the killer.”

A bitter laugh escaped before I could stop it. “The Guardians have no interest in helping me. Especially not now.”

She frowned. “They will not let an attack on my family go unanswered. I am their leader.”

“And I am a Descended .”

My tone cut too sharp, and my mother balked. “You have mortal parents. A mortal brother. You were raised in Mortal City, at mortal schools. Your friends, your career... Diem, you are—”

“—a Descended,” I finished. “That’s all I am to them now.”

She dropped her hands and stepped away. Her gaze roved over me, eyebrows tugging low, expression awash with inexplicable denial. If I didn’t know better, I might have thought it hadn’t occurred to her until this very moment what she’d raised.

“How could you keep this from me?” I asked.

Her expression looked pained. “The man who sired you was... different. Not like any mortal or Descended I’d ever met. When you were born with brown eyes, I thought the gods had blessed us, and you had escaped it. Then your magic came in...” Her shoulders fell. “You were only ten. I wanted to give you a normal life for as long as I could.”

“My life wasn’t normal.” My voice grew louder. “You drugged me. You told me I was having visions—you made me think I was crazy. You hid me away.”

“They would have killed you, Diem. Every day, I lived in fear they would discover the truth.”

“And what is the truth? Who is my birth father? Where is he? I know you lied about him dying, too.”

She recoiled a step. “That wasn’t a lie. He died the day you were born.”

I searched her face for some hint of dishonesty, but she was either Emarion’s greatest liar or she truly believed it. I didn’t know which conclusion was more likely.

“He isn’t dead,” I said. “He’s alive. And he knows about me.”

The color drained from her face. “No. No . That can’t—”

She stopped, her attention cutting over my shoulder. I looked back to see the King notably closer than where he’d stood before. He was staring at his feet, hands clasped at his back, his ear ever so subtly leaning in.

My mother’s lips pursed closed. She gave me a glare that told me she’d say no more in his presence.

I spun around to face him. “I want to question her in private.”

His back snapped straight. “Prisoners don’t ever leave their cells. You can question her here.”

“Ever?” I cocked my head. “So when you beat her and whipped her, you did it right here?”

“Sometimes,” one of the mortals muttered. “But when he questioned her, he took her away.”

“He told us she betrayed the Guardians,” another added. “He thought we’d turn on her and kill her, since the Crowns won’t let him do it. But we didn’t believe him. We know her better than that.”

Nods rippled through the cages. The mortals looked at my mother with admiration in their eyes.

The King glowered. “You’ll all pay for this later.”

Dread crept up my spine at the promise in his tone. “Why don’t we take her back to your office?” I offered. “It’s safe there, isn’t it?”

“You think I’ll let her walk outside this prison with you? Do I look like an idiot?”

I gave him a look that said do you really want me to answer that?

He scowled and marched to the cage, pricking his finger on his blade to swipe across the lock. “I’ll take you to an empty cell, but she’s not leaving this prison unless it’s in a coffin.”

He held up a fist, and the stench of rot filled the room. A shared groan of pain rose as the mortals clutched their stomachs and fell to their knees. The shield I’d placed around Luther rippled like it had been struck, and my skin blinked with light and a sudden burst of energy.

“Was that necessary?” I asked archly.

“Yes. And if any of them move, I’ll give them far worse than a stomach ache.”

He threw open the cage door and stalked to my mother, then gripped her arm and dragged her back to her feet. He paused, looking at her knee. “How’d you heal so fast?”

Panic flared. “Get off her,” I shouted, running toward her. “She’s clearly still wounded. I’ll help her walk.”

The King threw a blast of his magic out to stop me. I glowed bright as it absorbed without effect.

I snatched my mother’s arm out of his grasp and threw it over my shoulder. Without missing a beat, she collapsed against me and let out a convincing whine.

“Why is your shield different?” The King jerked his chin toward Luther. “I can see it cover him, but not you.”

“Because I’m stronger than he is,” I lied. Luther smirked in confirmation. “And he’s stronger than you .”

The King eyed Luther, whose expression shifted from proud to ferocious.

With my pretense of help, my mother faux-hobbled out of the cage. Luther moved forward to take her other arm, and my mother jerked away, shooting him a warning glare. I glanced between them with a frown, looking to Luther for explanation. He disappeared behind his mask of indifference and turned away.

As the door to the iron gate swung closed, a mortal woman lunged forward to grab it. She slipped through the closing gap with a cry that rang of vengeance as she dove for the King’s neck.

I tried to untangle my hands from my mother to raise a shield, but I moved too slow. The King’s palm curled in, and the woman decayed before my eyes. Her flesh turned grey, then ashen, then crumbled away in rotting hunks. When nothing remained but hair and bones, her form collapsed amid a puddle of putrid mess.

My mother screamed. She lurched at the King, and I jerked her back with barely enough time to stretch my shield around her before he launched another wave of deadly magic through the room.

As promised, this blow delivered much more than discomfort. Blood leaked from mouths and noses amid excruciated shrieks. A few collapsed, and I watched in horror as not all got back up.

“ Stop ,” I shouted at the King in between grunts as I wrestled to hold my mother back. “You killed the one who ran. Isn’t that enough?”

“You killed them,” he shot back, slamming the cage door in an echoing clang. “You rile up my prisoners, these are the consequences. That woman would be alive if you’d never come.”

I stiffened.

“I have given you more latitude than you deserve, Lumnos. You should be locked up with them. One more outburst—” He jabbed a finger at my mother. “—from either of you, and my patience ends. The law may not let me kill you, but I can kill them. And now you see I have no problem doing it.”

My mother clamped her mouth shut. I felt her emaciated muscles shudder beneath my hands.

I spoke a thought into her mind: He will pay, Mother . I promise .

The fight in her faltered as she looked at me in surprise, and I confirmed with a subtle nod.

The King started up the stairs, and we followed, Luther marching protectively in front of me. I tried not to think about the mortal stretching her arms toward the dead woman’s remains, but her sorrowful wail rang in my ears long after we’d walked away.

I noticed my mother marking each turn we took with rapt attention. She whispered to herself: “ right, ten paces, left, twenty-four paces, left. ”

Don’t try anything , I warned in her head. No running. No fighting him. Let me handle this.

She stared at me and furrowed her brow, her face expectant, like she was awaiting a response.

“Can you hear mine, too?” she mouthed after a moment.

I pushed my magic out and let it swirl around her temples. A sound hit me—through my head , not my ears—resembling the strange, hushed whispers I’d heard in Umbros.

Can you hear me? my mother asked again.

This time, her lips didn’t move.

I nodded, my eyes going wide. Would this magic ever stop feeling so uncanny and new?

The Umbros magic in particular felt wrong to wield. My mind spun with all the ways it could be useful in our war—persuading the staunchest haters into unity, forcing surrenders before any lives could be lost—but if it wasn’t willingly chosen, could there ever be true peace?

I have to escape , my mother said. I may never get another chance .

I know , I answered back. I’m not leaving this realm without you.

Her eyes lit up. Did you bring the Guardians?

I shook my head. Only Luther. And my gryvern.

I tried not to flinch at her crestfallen expression. She sighed heavily. Diem, if I don’t make it out—

You will , I insisted.

She grabbed my hand and squeezed. If I don’t... tell Teller how much I love him. And how sorry I am for not being there.

Her eyes glistened, my father’s loss casting a bleak shadow over our reunion.

“Here.” The King stopped and swung open the door to a dark, empty cell. “We reserve these for our most dangerous prisoners.” He smirked. “Perfect for the likes of you two.”

I studied it apprehensively. Unlike the cells I’d seen earlier, this door had no grates, no openings—just a solid slab of glittering black.

“The door stays op—”

“ No ,” he cut me off. “No more concessions.”

I shared a glance with Luther. The godhood door would trap my magic inside the cell, leaving him at the King’s mercy without my shield.

“What’s wrong?” the King taunted. “Don’t trust me with your Prince?”

I forced my chin high. “Nah. You’re not really his type.”

Luther’s lip hooked up for a second before settling back on the King with a menacing scowl.

Behave , I said in Luther’s head as I led my mother inside. No rampaging without me .

I caught a sliver of his wink before the door slammed shut and cast me into darkness. I crafted a globe of light and tugged my mother to the furthest corner of the cell.

“Do you have a plan to get out?” she asked quietly.

I nodded confidently—a lie. A big, ugly, glaring, outrageous lie.

“How are we getting out?” she pushed.

“Let me worry about that.”

“Diem—”

“Tell me what you know about the prison. The bloodlocks—who do they open for?”

Her reddish brows furrowed into a skeptical crease. I’d forgotten how well my mother knew me—how clearly she’d always seen through my false confidence. “Diem, I know Luther is very powerful, and...” She looked me over, plainly unconvinced. “I’m sure you are, too. But there are thousands of soldiers here. You need weapons, you need an army—”

I bristled. “You have no idea what I am capable of.”

She stroked my hair, one hand cupping around my cheek. It was such a familiar gesture, rich with well-worn love and easy memories. Memories that now felt like they belonged to another person.

I flinched away. That life was gone. The touch that had once brought me such comfort had become a painful reminder of all that I’d lost.

“Why don’t you distract the King?” she suggested. “I’ll run for it. I can find a place to hide, perhaps slip out when no one’s looking.”

“Are you mad? You won’t make it five feet.”

“I’ll be fine. I have some... experience with these kinds of things.”

“You’re just a healer , Mother.”

She smiled a pitiful smile, one of secrets and regret. “Diem, I have never been just a healer.”

My attention was stolen by muffled voices in the hall. I put a finger to my lips, then crept on quiet feet to the door. I crouched low and pressed my ear to a thin flap at the base I suspected they used to deliver meals.

“—with instructions they were to be delivered to you directly.”

“Who sent them?”

“The first hawk was sent by Her Majesty the Queen of Arboros.”

“So she’s alive, after all.” The King chuckled darkly. “And she’s finally sent her vote on Auralie Bellator’s execution. Tell me, Prince, if your Queen spoke true and Arboros was the Guardians’ prisoner, what do you think her vote will be?”

My heart sputtered and stalled, then dropped into a gut-clenching freefall.

“Who sent the other hawk, Lieutenant?”

“The Regent of Lumnos, Your Majesty. It arrived minutes ago. It was marked as extremely urgent .”

My falling heart plummeted straight into hell.

Remis hadn’t just betrayed me. He’d signed my death warrant—and his son’s, too.

Waiting until nightfall was no longer an option. We had to leave this prison.

And we had to do it now.