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

Chapter 54

Chapter

Fifty-Four

“ B ut... there’s never been a Queen of Fortos.”

Luther’s face glowed with affection. “You never were very good at following the rules.”

My confidence shuddered beneath this new burden. “I don’t want this,” I whispered. “I can’t even be a good Queen to Lumnos, and that’s my home.”

“Don’t mistake the pain of change for failure.” His large, protective hands curled beneath my jaw, tipping my face to his. “You may not be the Queen anyone expected, but you are the Queen they need.”

I clung to his faith like a lifeboat against the rising tide of my usual urge to deny. “Maybe this isn’t what it seems. Maybe I’m not...” I trailed off, glancing back at the King. His chest did not rise, his limbs did not stir.

My attention slid to my mother, who seemed less interested in my Crown and more interested in Luther’s thumbs as they grazed reassuring strokes across my skin.

Suddenly I felt like a naughty child caught doing something wrong. I forced myself to pull away.

I stared up at the new skylight I’d blasted into the prison roof. “It’s too small for Sorae, but maybe I can grow roots so we can climb to the surface.”

“Not without the mortals,” my mother insisted. She had that jaw-set, brow-creased, feet-planted look that said she wouldn’t be swayed. If I was stubborn as a mule, my mother was a mountain.

Luther looked only to me, eyebrows raised.

I sighed. “She’s right. We can’t leave them.” I rubbed my aching temples. “If I’m the Queen, can I just order their release?”

“Unless they were captured here in Fortos, you need the other Crowns’ consent to let them go.”

“And if I let them go anyway?”

He gave me a dark look. “Fortos Descended live and die by their rules. The last time a Fortos King broke from the law, his own men quartered him and strung the pieces up as a warning to the next one.”

“Lovely,” I muttered, hiding the Crown away. “I think I’ll wait a while before telling everyone the good news.”

I started toward the King’s body. When my toes brushed the edge of his bloody moat, my muscles unexpectedly locked up. Memories of my father’s death jolted through me in a painful overlay of the grisly scene at my feet.

The pool of blood. The vacant stare. The murder weapon, still protruding from his corpse.

My palms turned sweaty as my legs refused to move. I didn’t realize I was shaking until Luther’s hands gripped my arms to hold me still.

He gently guided me away. “It’s not him.”

I nodded stiffly, grateful he understood without explanation. Luther had tried so hard to talk me out of seeing my father’s corpse. Most days, I wished I’d let him.

“M-make sure he’s dead,” I stammered. “His—his pulse... check—”

“I will.” He gave me a light nudge toward my mother.

She studied my face with concern as I joined her side. “Have you ever taken a life before?”

“Yes,” I admitted, wincing. “But that’s not why—” I paused. My eyes met hers. “Have you? ”

She sighed heavily. “Yes, Diem. Many times.”

Her answer rocked me. Of course I had suspicions after learning of her role in the Guardians, but hearing her confirm it...

In my head, my mother existed within tightly defined walls. She was a healer— the healer, the standard to which all mortal healers were held. She’d dedicated her life to saving lives wherever she could. It was everything she was, all she’d ever been.

As the pedestal I’d perched her on collapsed to rubble before my eyes, I wondered if the woman I thought I knew had ever existed at all.

“Who are you?” I breathed.

“I’m your mother. I’m the same woman you’ve always known.”

“I’m not sure that’s true.”

Her features pinched. She reached for my hand, but I shrank away.

“He’s dead,” Luther said as he joined us. “We should burn the body. If the soldiers see him, getting out will be much harder.”

Without looking back, I raised a hand toward the King and set him ablaze in an explosion of Ignios flame.

I waited to feel some shame or hesitation, but I felt nothing of the sort. In fact, when I thought on the life I’d just taken, I felt... nothing.

And that scared me most of all.

Movement above us caught my eye. As the smoke billowed to the hole in the ceiling, curious faces peered down from its edge.

I grabbed Luther and my mother and set a brisk pace for the mortal cages. “Getting them out of Fortos won’t be easy. My gryvern can’t carry them all.”

“If you can cover us until the border, I can take them from there,” my mother said.

“Us?” My head whipped to her. “I promised Teller I’d bring you home today.”

“Well I can’t just leave them. They’re my people. They need me.”

“ Your family needs you,” I snapped. “We’ve needed you for months.”

“Then you can wait a few days more.” She gave me an exasperated look, as if I was being irrational. “I’ll be fine. I’ve handled bigger dangers than sneaking through the Lumnos forests.”

I gawked at her, then looked to Luther for support. He was staring ahead, lips quirked up at the corner.

“You’re enjoying this?” I hissed at him.

“I’m realizing just how much you are your mother’s daughter.” Laughter gleamed in his eyes, unaffected by the daggers shooting through my glare.

An idea began to form.

“I’ll get them to the border,” I said to my mother, “and I’ll arrange a guide from there. But you’re coming with us.” She started to protest, and I cut her off. “I sacrificed too much to come here. I’m not leaving without you now.”

The mortals perked up at our arrival, craning their heads in note of the King’s absence.

“I’d like to make a deal,” I announced to them.

“We don’t negotiate with Descended,” one said tersely. “Especially Crowns.”

I tossed my mother the most obnoxious I-told-you-so expression I had in my arsenal.

“Good,” I said, “because this isn’t a negotiation. If you want to get out alive, you’re all going to have to do something you hate—trust the Descended.” I gestured to myself and Luther. “Us, and anyone else I tell you to trust.”

Heads shook fervently, mutters of protest rising to a roar. Luther crossed his arms, glaring.

“You could try to look a little less intimidating,” I said under my breath. “I’m trying to win them over.”

“I see how they look at you when you’re not watching. Being intimidating is the wiser choice.”

“If you don’t trust her, then trust me,” my mother said loudly. “She is my daughter. I know her heart.”

“And what about him? ” one mortal asked.

She and Luther exchanged a stare dripping with hostile tension.

“He has helped other mortals.” Her slow, jerking cadence suggested each word was being chosen with care. “I doubt he intends to do you harm.”

“A ringing endorsement,” Luther muttered.

“Can you blame me?” she snapped quietly.

Muscles twitched along Luther’s jaw. He’d warned me their interactions were not always friendly, but I could barely fathom how they’d worked together at all.

“There will be Descended you trust far less than us,” I said. “I won’t let them harm you, but I can’t ask them to help you if you intend to harm them, either.”

A mortal man stepped forward, his brown eyes fixed on me. “You said you wanted to make a deal. What is it you want in return?”

I let out a heavy sigh. “I know your reasons for distrusting the Descended. I share them all. There are many, so many , wrongs to be addressed. I believe in the Guardians’ mission of bringing justice for the mortals—but some Guardians won’t stop until every Descended is dead.”

Murmurs—too many—of agreement rumbled through the group, turning my stomach into stone.

“Do you think they’ll stop there?” I pushed. “They wish death on anyone they deem different . What happens when they find you different because of your gender, your skin color, or your realm? Or the gods you worship or the people you love? What the Kindred did was a great injustice, but before they arrived, the mortals were at war with each other over these very things. We can’t abide that, either. Isn’t injustice our real enemy—in whatever form it takes and whoever it comes from?”

The mortals fell quiet as they looked to each other, reluctant agreement flickering in many an eye.

“I will raise an army against the Descended’s unjust rule, that I vow that to you. But the world I’m fighting for is one where all are equal, no matter the blood in their veins. Let’s not make hate our guiding light. Let’s choose love. Choose fairness. Choose...” I thought of the strange peace I’d glimpsed in the silvery light. “... balance . Someday we’ll all answer to the Everflame for our choice. This is mine.”

The mortals looked unsure.

My mother looked stunned.

My Prince looked proud.

“So if we want out of here, we have to join your army?” the man asked.

“I won’t force you,” I said quickly. “I see the fire in your eyes. I know you want to pick up a sword and fight. All I ask is that you consider wielding it for me.”

I didn’t waste any more time begging for their answer. If I really wanted to win them over, I’d have to prove myself through actions, not words.

I raised ropes of blistering light that wove through the iron bars and melted them down into puddles of muck, then Luther stood guard while I made the rounds to heal any lingering wounds.

The King’s neglect had left them weak and emaciated. I used Meros magic to conjure water—surprisingly easy—and Arboros magic to conjure food—surprisingly hard. When I called on the soil to sprout through the stone with fresh fruit, I ended up flooding the cages with a field of dandelions instead. It did little for sustenance but wonders for mood. The children giggled and ran through the room, grabbing fistfulls of fluffy blooms and puffing their seeds into the air.

“Thank you,” a mortal woman said as she watched them beside me. Her caramel-brown eyes were bright with unshed tears. “It’s been a long time since they’ve had a reason to laugh.”

I smiled sadly. “I’m sorry for what was done to all of you. It ends here and now.”

She tucked her short dark hair behind her ears and extended a hand. “I’m Runa.”

I clasped it with a nod. “Call me Diem.”

“You’re really going to take on the other Crowns, Diem?” she asked.

“I am.” I gave her a cautious look. “But I’ll also take on the Guardians, if I must.”

She chewed thoughtfully on her lip. “And you truly think we can all live in peace someday, after everything that’s happened?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure.” I shifted my gaze to the children. “But I think I owe it to them to try.”

My attention drifted to Luther. His daunting glare had softened as he stole glances at the children playing, the faintest trace of a smile toying at his lips.

Still no sign of anyone? I asked into his thoughts.

His happiness vanished. He shook his head, the disquiet in his features an echo of my own.

After my blast through the ground, the soldiers had to know something had gone wrong. Why hadn’t they come? What were they doing?

And what would we face when we emerged?

“They’re going to be waiting for us out there,” my mother said as she fell in step on my right, Luther joining on my left. The mortals followed behind us in a tightly huddled group, whispering quiet doubts I was trying not to hear.

“I know,” I said.

“We’re going to need weapons.”

“I know.”

“So where are we going?”

“To get weapons.”

She looked at me expectantly. I didn’t elaborate.

“Diem, we need a plan.”

“I have a plan. You’ll see.”

The hallway where I’d fought the King was silent, save for the crackle of the dying fire and the occasional rustle of soil falling from the hole I’d left. The column of light cascading from its opening seemed almost heavenly—the gods smiling down on what I’d done, giving their blessing to the slaughter.

My muscles stiffened. I turned and kept walking.

“I thought we were going to escape through the hole?” my mother asked.

“We are.”

“Then where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

“Diem, this isn’t like the games you and Teller played as children. This is real. Lives are at stake.”

My jaws ached from the force of holding back.

Some days it felt like there wasn’t a soul in all of Emarion whose life didn’t hang on my success or failure. It was a constant punctuation to every thought, a weight dragging down the corners of every smile.

“Diem.” She snatched my arm. “Sweetheart, this is serious.”

“You think she doesn’t know that?” Luther said testily. “Have some faith in the woman you raised.”

I could have thrown him on the floor and taken him, right there and then.

She balked at him. “You’re fine with this?”

“Of course. She is my Queen.”

“You never had trouble disobeying your Crown before.” A hint of accusation rang in her tone.

“Diem is not Ulther.” His hand brushed mine. “For many reasons.”

We reached the corridor I’d been searching for, and I turned to face him. “Stay here with them?”

He frowned. “I have no weapons or magic. There’s not much I can do if soldiers come.”

I let out a resigned sigh. “About that...”

My eyes fell closed. My godhood arched its neck curiously as I retreated within. I passed it by, to its dismay, along with the hidden Crown glowing in my soul like a candelabra in a pitch-dark room.

I wondered if I’d find it—part of me hoped I didn’t—and yet it rose right to my grasp, somehow knowing my intent before I’d even asked.

The Forging magic .

That buzzing, tingling energy imbued within the soil that wove the Kindred’s magic throughout the continent, enforcing the terms of their Forging spell.

I’d only used it once, just before my Ascension Ball. Its edges had been so clear that night, a current flowing to the realm’s borders, both land and sea. Its magic was pure, a seemingly infinite well, flowing smooth and rich across the realm.

This time, it felt very different—like an overworn blanket, edges frayed to threads, littered with rips and unraveling seams that allowed frosty air to sneak beneath and taint its warmth. And its reach didn’t stop at the Fortos borders. It stretched on, into Lumnos and beyond.

However, one thing felt very much the same: This magic was not for just anyone to see. Only its master. Only its Crown.

Only me .

The finality of it sank my head low. I searched and found Luther’s aura, trapped within a hard cocoon, and shattered it to bits. A tidal wave of him flowed free, and I welcomed its caress with bittersweet relief.

He sucked in a breath, eyes glowing with the sudden return of his magic. “It’s true, then. You are the Queen of Fortos.”

I swallowed, nodding, unable to keep the conflict off my face.

He smiled faintly. “You needed an army. The Blessed Kindred have a sense of humor.”

“If only the joke wasn’t always on me.”

He closed the distance between us and lowered his face to mine. “You are worthy of this, my Queen. The Kindred see it, and so do I.”

I leaned against him, absorbing his warmth, his faith, his love, letting it forge the armor I needed to guard my soul in the battle ahead.

My mother cleared her throat.

We both went stiff. My fingers grazed the tips of his as I forced myself to peel away.

“Wait here,” I said to them both.

I strode down the hall until I was well beyond earshot, then stopped in front of an iron door. “I’d like to speak,” I called out.

Two dull green eyes stared blankly from the darkness, giving no indication they’d understood.

I reached through the grate and conjured a sprinkle of glittering stars that cast a dim glow over the grimy walls.

“The King isn’t here,” I said, softening my voice. “I’ve come back alone. I’d like to help you.”

The man didn’t move. From the state of his cell, I wasn’t sure he’d moved for a very long time.

“I know why you’re here,” I went on. “You were helping mortals get out of Faunos. You crossed too far over the border, and the army caught you.”

My words were a careful dance to conceal that I’d slipped into his mind to pry the information out. I wasn’t proud of the intrusion, but I’d needed to be certain before I took this risk.

“You tried to heal me,” the man croaked, voice hoarse from disuse. “I felt it.”

I fought a grimace—so much for keeping my secret. I stretched my arm toward him. “I can heal you now, if you’d like.”

He stared bleakly at my hand like it might as well have been a thousand miles away.

“Can you walk?” I asked.

He pulled back the tunic draped over his legs. They were turned at an unnatural angle and bent in more places than any leg should bend. “They healed me like this so I couldn’t run.”

I muttered a vibrant string of curses. As I pulled back and glared at the door, I spied a familiar black disc.

A shadow blade took form in my hand. I drew it across my thumb several times with no effect, internally bickering with my godhood to let down its guard. Finally, a dot of red pooled on my skin. I held my breath as I swept it over the smooth circular plaque.

The door swung open, and the man’s eyes grew wide. “How?”

I opted not to answer. I crouched at his side, my hands hovering in the air above him. “May I?”

His mouth hung agape and speechless, but he managed a nod. I pressed my palms against his ice-cold skin and sent my magic through his legs.

This was unlike any healing I’d done before. Repairing wounds was easy—the body already knew what it was meant to do, my magic simply fueled its natural drive. But the brutal work of these Fortos “healers”— they don’t deserve that title , I thought bitterly—had convinced his body that his mangled limbs were already healed. Though I could soothe the damage done from thirst and malnutrition, his legs remained unchanged.

Fight .

The voice sparked in concert with my temper as resentment reared its angry head. I could have had years to train so that advanced magic like this was not so far beyond my grasp. My mother had stunted my growth, and it wasn’t just me who paid the price.

Fight .

All the patients I’d watched suffer over the years, the key to their relief sitting dormant in my blood.

All the needless losses I’d mourned, wishing there was more I could have done.

All the hands I’d held through their final moments, when a single thought from me could have stopped death in its tracks.

Fight .

Help him , I pleaded to my godhood. I don’t know how to do this, but you do.

No answer came.

I turned my frustration into fuel and unloaded more magic into his body. A tiny, nervous bell clanged in the back of my mind at the hollow chasm forming in my chest. I pushed it away—I refused to abandon this man to the monsters of Fortos.

Think, Diem , I told myself. You’re a healer. If you could mend this with your hands, you can mend it with your magic.

Jaw clenched, I dove in deeper. This time, I let my healer’s instincts guide me, weaving my mortal upbringing with my Descended gifts. My years of studies on the human body led the way, identifying bones I knew were broken and the ways the joints were not quite right. I gave instructions to my magic—clear and specific, encouraging and firm—the same way I’d taught trainees at the center.

Fight , the voice demanded.

Heal , I demanded right back.

The man suddenly let out a hoarse, blood-curdling scream. I froze, panicked, certain I’d done something utterly, terribly wrong—until I felt a stirring in my chest. My godhood flowed beneath his skin and set to work obeying my commands: reforming the bones, shifting them into place, and restoring the atrophied muscles. I gave a final, unrestrained pulse of power, and a blink of light flashed across the room.

“Blessed Kindred,” the man gasped. “You... you healed me. You healed me! ”

My eyes flew open, and a triumphant laugh burst free. “Lumnos’s tits,” I said, grinning. “I wasn’t sure that would actually work.”

He lunged forward and wrapped his arms around my waist, burying his head in my side. “You are Kindred-sent. I haven’t walked in decades.”

“Decades?” I choked out. My heart shattered at the horrors he must have endured. “What’s your name?”

“Enness, Your Maj—” His brow furrowed with a glance at the now-empty spot above my head.

I took his hand and squeezed it, ignoring the question in his expression. “I’m Diem, Enness. I’m so happy I could help you. Now, I need your help.”

“Anything,” he breathed.

“I’ve got a lot of mortals I need to get out of this prison. If I help you escape, will you use your magic to protect them until they get home?”

His shoulders fell. “I don’t have my magic. They drugged us with—”

“Flameroot,” I muttered, remembering. I chewed on my lip. “I wonder...”

I let my magic rush into him again, this time focusing on his blood. I felt the flameroot’s presence flowing in his veins, but much like the godstone’s toxin, my magic fizzled at its touch.

But the light... the strange, silvery light. The one that demanded balance . Some inscrutable hunch urged me to turn my eyes that way, but I’d only ever used it when life and death were on the line.

I focused in on that—the needless tragedies I yearned to avoid. Children trapped in joyless cells. Broken bodies scattered on the Fortos flatlands. Corpses strewn throughout my beloved Lumnos forests. I pleaded with my heart, my magic, the gods, not knowing which of them held the key— help me do this. Help me save them all.

A light burned frail within me, like the last smoldering ember of a long-extinguished fire. I held it close, cupped within my hands, the blow of my breath keeping its stubborn glow alive. I let my magic be its vessel and carry a spark through my palms. The moment it hit Enness’s skin, he illuminated with a fleeting burst of silver light.

We stared at each other in mutual shock.

I blinked at him. “Did it work?”

He blinked back. “You don’t know?”

I shrugged. “I’m a little new at using magic.”

He laughed abruptly, then straightened in surprise. It had been decades since he’d walked—how long had it been since he’d laughed?

He held out a palm. Twisting green vines slithered through the cracks in his cell. They sprouted vibrant leaves and clusters of fat grapes. He plucked one off and popped it in his mouth. The moan that followed was borderline indecent.

“Blessed Mother, I’ve missed that,” he sighed, his eyes brightening to a brilliant emerald green.

“Enness, I don’t mean to be rude... can you use that magic to do more than grow fruit?”

“You mean, can I fight the Fortos Descended?” I nodded, and he smiled. “I can. And frankly, there’s nothing I’d rather do more.”

He wobbled unsteadily to his feet, and I clutched him as he got his bearings. “Are there others like you? Any Descended I can trust to help these mortals?”

His heavy look suggested I had no idea the box I’d just opened. “How many can you take?”

“As many as I can get.”

He nodded firmly. With my help, he staggered out of his cell and into the corridor. His body shuddered violently, and I looked at him in alarm.

“I... I never thought I would...” He gazed down the corridor as a tear broke free and streamed over his cheek. “People don’t leave this place, Diem. They bring us here to die.”

I wove my fingers into his and held him close. “Not anymore.”