The Flame King’s Queen (Fire and Desire #3)

Chapter 27

I scream and run for Sylvi, my arms outstretched to take her from that thing wearing Zabriel’s face. How dare it pretend that it has anything to do with our daughter.

I hit an invisible barrier, and I’m flung back off my feet. I fall in a heap on the floor and sit up in time to see the lich grasping the edge of the cradle and leering at me.

I have to get it away from our child, but my heart is racing, and my mind is screaming at me so loudly that I can’t think. I reach for the first thing I can think of to draw its attention on me and away from my baby.

“You killed my crone,” I sob. Biddy’s blood has dried stiffly on my clothes and hands. She survived the Brethren witchfinders and a ferocious battle for Maledin, only to meet her end being puppeteered by the thing standing in front of me.

“I did,” the lich agrees, still grinning with Zabriel’s mouth. “This creature’s body is far more suitable than that old hag’s. She was little threat to me, but it was worth my effort in order to draw those traitorous warlocks far away from the city, and to see your face when I killed her.” The lich laughs, and it’s a ghastly, grating sound.

It means to play with us before it kills us. It wants us to suffer. I wonder if Zabriel is aware of everything that is happening while the lich controls his body so to cause him the most possible pain.

If I can get the balcony door open, I might be able to call for Esmeral, snatch up Sylvi, and fly her to safety. That might make the lich release its hold on Zabriel. Or it might make it kill him. Zabriel would want me to protect our child no matter what, but the thought is no less devastating.

I get to my feet and edge around the room, careful not to approach the lich or Sylvi. So far, my daughter still sleeps, and the lich has left her unharmed. It watches every step I take, turning to follow me around the room.

The lich leers at me but doesn’t move. “What are you doing, Isavelle?”

I try the door handles that lead to the terrace, and surprisingly, they open. The lich hasn’t magically sealed them. Outside it’s fully dark now, and the stars glint in the heavens. I smell smoke on the air. Smoke, blood, and fear.

“Do you think you can escape that way?” the lich calls to me. “We are hundreds of feet above the ground. You will smash yourself to pieces, and I’m sorry, but your dragon isn’t coming to save you this time.”

I feel a sob rising in my throat. What has it done to Esmeral?

“I think it’s time you and I had a little talk,” the lich rasps.

Now that the doors onto the terrace are open, I can hear the distant sounds of battle. Shouting. Clanging. Screaming. The people of Lenhale are fighting for their lives, no doubt terrified that their king and queen seem to have abandoned them.

“Unless you’d rather I pick up your sweet little daughter. She’s still asleep, for now, but I wonder what she sounds like when she’s screaming.”

I whirl around to face the lich. “Leave Sylvi alone. What do you want from us?”

It drags its eyes up and down my body. “I want to bargain with you, Isavelle. You have something I want.”

“I have nothing to say to you. Nothing I will ever give you.”

The lich’s hand tightens on the crib, and he glances at the baby. “No, Isavelle? You are saying no to me?”

I start breathing faster at the implicit threat. “How can we talk on equal footing? You know my name, but I don’t know what to call you.”

He wags Zabriel’s forefinger in my face. “Tricksy, tricksy. I know better than to trust a witch with my real name. You may call me what those Brethren fools named me. The Shadow King. The true leader of Maledin, though in the past I have rarely shown myself. I think that will change for my next five hundred years as ruler. With your help, dear Isavelle, I shall sit upon the throne and show everyone the true leader’s face.”

There’s an angry roar from outside the window, so loud that it rattles the panes of glass. Scourge is clinging to the side of the castle, one enormous taloned foot on our terrace, his massive body blocking out dusk’s final glow.

My mate’s dragon.

He roars again, and the sound is so thunderous that I have to cover my ears. Sylvi wakes up and starts crying.

The lich, in Zabriel’s body, staggers. The magical seal on the door breaks, and I hear people hammering on the wood and jostling the handle. My heart soars, and I realize that my mate’s powerful connection with his dragon is disrupting the lich’s magic.

The door to our room bursts open, and I see Fiala, Dusan, and Stesha’s distraught faces.

“Take our baby out of here,” I call to them. Fiala darts forward, scoops the baby up in her arms, and runs for the door. Dusan and Stesha have their weapons drawn and they’re both reaching for me, but I’m not going with them. I can’t be anywhere near them, or the lich will hurt them. He wants to speak with me, so I can draw him away while the others fight off the undead army.

I turn and run for the open terrace door.

“No, no, no, no —” Stesha shouts. I feel Stesha’s fingers snatch at my sleeve. Out on the terrace, I grab hold of Scourge’s saddle and climb as fast as I can to mount him. I have never done this alone before, and without Zabriel around me carrying me atop his dragon, I’m reminded just how massive my mate’s dragon is.

Scourge spreads his wings.

“Take off, please take off,” I plead with the dragon. He’s always understood and protected me instinctively, but maybe he’s confused because the lich is possessing his rider. “Please fly us away from here, Scourge.”

Far above me, Scourge turns his head to look at me, and I see something that makes my blood run cold. The dragon’s eyes gazing back at me aren’t a burning shade of red, but a flickering green. He won’t take off because he’s being controlled not to want to take off.

The lich in Zabriel’s body is climbing up to the saddle, that hideous grin still on his face. I kick at his fingers, but the lich doesn’t seem to feel pain. He doesn’t even flinch as he hauls himself into the saddle behind me and wraps both his arms around me. Zabriel’s scent is filled with an evil, acrid smell that reminds me of the necromancy book at the archives.

“You didn’t realize I possessed the dragon as well?” the lich rasps into my ear. “You stupid girl. The white-haired bastard tried to warn you, but you wouldn’t listen to him. You’ve never listened to anyone. That’s why we’re so perfect for each other. Once we’re together, no one will ever try to control you again. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Let me go,” I scream, thrashing around in his arms.

But the lich only laughs as Scourge spreads his wings and launches into the sky. We fly in a slow, wide circle around the castle and over the city. Where the fires burn, I can see the mayhem of battle. The undead have overwhelmed the gates and made it into the city. It’s not only soldiers who have taken up weapons, but the people as well. Bodies are lying in the streets. Blood soaks the ground. The undead are relentless, smashed to pieces only to reform as though nothing has happened.

Scourge belches green flames, and they light up the ground below an eerie green. I can imagine the fear and despair that the dragonriders, soldiers, and people must be feeling as they see the king’s dragon breathing green flames.

They must feel like their world is ending. They must feel lost. It’s how I feel with the lich using my mate’s strong arms to lock me tightly to his chest.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Not far,” it purrs in my ear. “Someplace we can be alone, so that you may think things through carefully and decide what is right. What is decent. What is fair.”

It digs Zabriel’s blunt nails cruelly into my waist, making me gasp. Whatever the lich wants is going to be far from what is right, decent, or fair.

Below, little of the ground is visible in the darkness, but after some time, I see moonlight shimmering on wet rocks, and steam rising from the ground. Scourge circles downward before finally landing next to pools filled with heated water. My heart aches when I remember how Zabriel brought me here after saving me from the Brethren, and he gently bathed my wounds and the dust from my skin and hair.

The lich releases its hold on me, and I take the chance to scramble down from Scourge’s back. There’s a heavy whomp sound, and when I turn, I see that the lich has confidently slid to the ground in just the manner that Zabriel would. It saunters toward me, and Scourge turns and stalks after me as well.

I scramble backward as they loom over me. I saw them once like this long ago, dragon and rider, both seeming to look at me through the same eyes, and sharing one mind. Then, their eyes were blazing red, but now, they’re a sickly, terrifying shade of green.

“I brought you here that first night I took you captive,” the lich rasps. “I wanted you so badly, and it was my right to take you. You were so small and stupid, so annoying with your crying and protestations. I thought about just taking what I craved.”

“Do not speak to me as if you are Zabriel. Those memories are private, and you’re lying. Zabriel would have sooner died than hurt me. He wanted to die after what you made Emmeric do to his sister.”

“Nothing is hidden from me now that I occupy his mind. I know everything about him. Everything about you. Where he ends and I begin, there is no distinction.”

My eyes narrow angrily. If that is its aim, it will never make me believe that. I don’t wish to speak of Zabriel, and so I ask, “Where did you come from?”

The lich makes a loft gesture toward the north. “From far across the mountains a thousand years ago, from a land where magic is everywhere, but I cannot be free. There are powerful sorcerers, too clever for me to possess. Dragonriders are so wonderfully weak and foolish.” It grins widely, showing Zabriel’s dragines. His eyes flicker a terrifying green.

“What do you want from me?”

“I thought that was obvious.”

“I’m spoken for.”

The lich throws back Zabriel’s head and laughs. “Not in that way, you stupid girl. I have watched you through Emmeric’s eyes for a long time. I felt you wake the dragonriders, and I knew I had to meet you. The Brethren were supposed to bring you to me. I’ve tested your magic and your fortitude, and they are…” It trails off with a dreamy smile. “Delicious. That is the only word. So like myself when I was still mortal, though it has been a long, long time.”

I have a sinking feeling about what the lich wants, and his next words confirm it.

It steps forward, green eyes burning, voice demanding. “I want to possess your body. I must possess your body. We will be together always.”

“So why haven’t you done it?”

Zabriel’s lip curls in disgust. “I am able to possess the weak-minded and use their bodies for a short time. It is different with mages. For our magic to meld, you must accept me willingly, or at least allow me to trick you into opening your mind to me.”

“I will never accept you willing,” I burst out. “Do you think all the death and destruction that I’ve witnessed by your hand has been nothing to me? Do you think I have not felt the utmost grief and anger toward you after seeing you kill my brother and mother so cruelly? That it didn’t rip my heart out day after day wrapping and burning the bodies of the hundreds of villagers you killed?”

The lich isn’t listening. It continues speaking in that uncanny, singsong voice. “Emmeric was growing tiresome. I thought he would survive a little longer while you grew into your power, and I could catch you unawares. Sorcerers always make arrogant, foolish mistakes—even me. You were able to spy on me after I gave you his amulet. You thought he wanted to protect that useless dragon, but it was you who needed protection. I wanted you to grow strong, and you have. Soon, under my guiding hand, you’ll be magnificent.”

The lich sketches his fingers through the air, and an image of me forms with blazing green eyes and a hard, cruel smile. Esmeral is curled around me with her teeth bared and similar green eyes. There’s no mercy or warmth in the image, only cold, cruel ambition. My skin crawls, and the image vanishes.

“I’m not a sorcerer. I’m a witch, and we don’t make arrogant, foolish mistakes, and neither can we be tempted by power that we haven’t earned. You won’t ever be able to possess me. I won’t open up to you willingly like Emmeric did, and if you’re standing here talking to me through Zabriel, it seems like you can’t force yourself into my mind either. So begone. Go away. Fuck off .” It’s satisfying to use coarse dragonrider language. It makes me feel like they’re all here with me, lending me their strength.

The lich’s evil smile widens. “Our magic is the same, little dragon queen. You are able to walk through the planes into other worlds almost as easily as me. I can give you power and teach you things you never dreamed were possible. I am the rightful ruler of Maledin, and I have been happy to rule from the shadows, but now I want to come into the light of day, and I am willing to share that position with you. Aren’t I generous?”

While it speaks nonsense, my eyes dart around, searching for something I can use as a weapon, or a way to make an escape. Where could I run even if I was able to flee?

“I understand that you have been frustrated about your position as an Omega,” it continues. “You’re worried about your daughter, who will certainly be an Omega. She should have as much power as the Alphas, shouldn’t she? I can see that both of you have the respect you deserve.” The lich looks down at Zabriel’s body and then back up at me. “This body has controlled you. Made you submit. He hurts you. Bites you. Makes you bleed. Don’t you hate him deep down for taking you away from your family and putting you on the throne? I know you fear him. All Alphas are tyrants.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I can see your face in his memories. All the times you looked at him in fear are burned on his soul.”

“That was before,” I cry, shaking my head. “That was such a long time ago. Zabriel knows I don’t fear him now. I love him.”

“Then why are his memories so bright and so easy for me to pick through? He thinks about your fear all the time. He doesn’t want you to be afraid. Allow me into your heart and mind, and you’ll never have to be afraid again. He wants this for you. Together we will rule Maledin, and no harm will come to your mate. You can keep him as your plaything, and he can father as many children with you as you both desire. Our minds and magic will meld so beautifully. Even if you have doubts now, I promise you will not regret it later.”

He reaches his hand out to me, like a lover.

“Emmeric regretted accepting you.”

“That is a lie,” the lich seethes, dropping his hand.

“All the power you gave him didn’t make him stop protecting his dragon. Wanting an Omega. Craving someone or something to love him, despite everything that you’d made him do. You’re not as tempting as you think you are.”

“Shut up!” it shouts.

All the air is sucked out of my lungs. I wrap my hands around my throat as I feel myself choke. I can’t draw a breath, and my lungs begin to scream in agony. A moment later, the lich releases me, and I fall forward onto my hands, coughing.

“Look what you made me do,” it storms past me, pacing up and down. “I am offering you an equal partnership, something your cretin of a mate never could, and yet you are refusing me. Are you stubborn, or are you completely stupid? I warn you, Isavelle, nothing makes me more enraged than being thwarted. Emmeric was a useful host for many hundreds of years, but you and I could wield insurmountable power unlike either of us has ever known. I tried dragon soul cores to bolster my strength. The black and green dragon that belonged to the stupid little girl who Emmeric was infatuated with was an interesting source of power, for a time. I tried other dragon’s soul cores, but I have never liked dragon magic. It tastes greasy and sets my teeth on edge, unlike sweet and delicious human magic. The magic that is first and foremost in your veins, witch.”

I stare at the ground, panting while I catch my breath. Then I sit up and slowly get to my feet. “No matter what you offer me, I will never accept. I will do everything in my power to prevent you from taking the throne of Maledin and wreaking centuries more suffering on the people.”

The lich stares at me coldly for a long time. “Then you leave me no choice. Using this form, I will kill everyone you love, one by one, and make you watch. You remember what I did to your brother and mother? How much they suffered as razor-sharp vines grew through their bodies? Your sister’s and father’s sufferings will be a hundred times worse and last many weeks. I will kill your friends among the dragonriders and the wingrunners. You will not be able to hide the ones you love because your mate is giving me all their names and faces as we speak. Mother Linnea. Ravenna the witch. The stupid, lovelorn captain. I will slit your dragon’s throat in front of her offspring and drown them in her blood.”

As it speaks, it conjures pictures of everything it describes. The horror of what I’m seeing and hearing makes me want to tear out my hair. Through Zabriel, it knows all the worst ways to torture me.

The lich cocks Zabriel’s eyebrow at me. “So, you see you have no choice. Am I convincing you yet? Are you finally beginning to realize that resisting me is a pointless delay?”

I feel a strange prodding at my mind, and I realize it’s the lich. It’s testing my resolve, searching for weakness. A way in.

The lich’s rasping voice grows sweet and alluring. It moves toward me, whispering, “You and I are going to be so happy together. Stop fighting, sha’lenla . You will hear him call you that again if you just let me in.”

The prodding on my mind grows so severe that I take my head in my hands and gasp, squeezing my eyes shut. I won’t give in willingly, and it won’t take me by force either.

If Zabriel opens his eyes and wakes from the nightmare he’s living right now and sees not turquoise and gold, but sickly green magic flickering in my eyes, he will never call me sha’lenla . He will never be able to love me. He’ll fear me and hide our child from me. He’ll rightfully want to kill me.

The lich narrows its eyes and shakes its head. “You are thinking that your mate will be repulsed by you, but you are forgetting how powerful you and I will be together, Isavelle. It is a simple task to persuade someone how they feel. No, persuade is too strong a word. Remind them how they should feel. I was able to do this with Zenevieve for such a long, long time, and Emmeric was happy. She should have been his in the first place, he told me, but she became distracted by another. I was able to fix that for her. I reminded her who she was truly destined for, not that white-haired bastard, but my pure-hearted prince. She was so grateful to be reminded.”

I picture Zabriel slavishly adoring me because he is forced to by magic, as it seems Zenevieve was made to adore Emmeric, and my stomach rolls.

“Right now you are revolted, but in time you will appreciate everything I am able to do for you. And I will do this for you. Are you getting it yet? I have all the power and you have none. You thought you were safe in that flimsy castle with all your useless little friends and allies, but it was all an illusion. It was just a matter of time before I made my plans afresh and decided that it would be the two of us to rule Maledin. I expected you to feel more flattered,” it adds, with an edge to his voice. “But no matter. Your gratitude can come later. All you have to do is let. Me. In .”

The lich batters at my mind as it speaks through Zabriel’s gritted teeth. I scream and fall to my knees as pain hammers through my skull. It feels like my head is full of clashing swords and wild animals scrabbling at my nerve endings.

The lich shouts over my cries of agony, “Accept what I am offering, and I will release your mate. I know you wish me to end his torment. Or do you need me to attack you? You can pretend I am forcing you if it makes things easier for you now, but I promise that after you accept me, you will feel no remorse ever again. No guilt. No uncertainty. Everything will be so easy once we’re together.”

I cower at its feet, tears streaming down my face. Hopelessness overwhelms me, and I’m sobbing for everyone who will suffer if I can’t find a way to stop this thing.

Zabriel’s booted feet appear before my eyes. Somewhere over my head, the lich says coldly, “You despise feeling this weak. Accept me, and never feel afraid again.”

I shake my head and wipe the tears from my face. “Power is not a game to me. It’s not something to be chased, it is something you must prove you are worthy of. Zabriel taught me that, but you could never understand such a sentiment. You can’t live without power, something that matters less than love and family and friends and hope .”

The lich pulls me up so that I’m standing on legs made from jelly. It shakes me, laughing in my face the whole time. “Family? Friends? Is this where your thoughts go while I am offering you diamonds of eternity and power? You still do not understand who I am.”

Who it is.

Who it is.

Biddy’s dying body flashes before my eyes. I feel her reaching out to me, my crone who always gave me the answers I sought by prodding me, provoking me, and letting me figure things out for myself.

Everything suddenly snaps into place.

For a moment I laugh weakly, almost hysterically, because the answer is so simple. There’s no need to run and hide or to watch everyone die. The only thing I need to do is be a witch.

My face hardens. I take a deep breath, and then I scream up into the lich’s face, “Caraxmorenas, get your filthy hands off me .”

The lich yanks its hands back as if my flesh has burned it. It’s not a spell, not yet, but the command does what I need it to do.

It stares at Zabriel’s hands, then up at me, and gasps, “How did you know? No one has spoken that name in a thousand years. I destroyed all the books. I killed all who had learned it. I kept it hidden from most of those I have possessed. Only Emmeric knew it, and I was with him until his end. He never had the chance to tell…never breathed even one letter…” The lich’s confusion fades away, to be replaced by anger.

“The witch,” it seethes. “The witch told you after I released her. She above all others would have known to hunt through my mind. But I thought she was dead.”

I get to my feet and face the lich in Zabriel’s towering form. “She was not quite dead, and she used her last breath to tell me—the witch of the only coven she ever knew, thanks to you and your disgusting witchfinders—what your name is.”

Rage fills me from the top of my head down to the tips of my toes. Rage for Biddy and the lonely life she lived when she should have been surrounded by her fellow witches. Rage for Ravenna, for whom other people always meant danger, and who is still afraid now because her mate is a monster made by this thing before me. Rage for Zenevieve and the pain and despair she’s suffered because she dared to love another.

All my rage has gathered inside me, and I’m the one making it cower now. I’m the one sparking fear in its soul.

Because I know its name.

“Caraxmorenas, release my mate. Release his dragon.” I speak the words of the command spell that I found in Master Gaun’s Magical Archive, adding the lich’s name to every line. The undead part of Zabriel, the scrap of soul possessing him, becomes a blurry green outline around his body. My mate’s eyes flicker from green to red and back again. I speak the spell faster, louder, screaming the necromancer’s name, using more magic than I ever have in my life. I feel it coursing through me, turning my words into weapons.

The necromancer is forced from Zabriel’s and Scourge’s bodies and becomes a fluttering scrap of green light. My mate’s eyes turn to red and his face drains of color as he reaches for me, and then he slumps to the ground. I’m concentrating so hard on the spell that I’m sweating, but I dare to flick a few glances at Zabriel. I can’t tell if he’s dead or just passed out. Far above us, Scourge groans deep in his chest and his head is slumped forward. He’s been weakened and sickened by the lich’s possession.

The scrap of soul is shrieking in pain and fury. I didn’t know that a soul could scream, but Caraxmorenas’s soul does. I fumble in my bag for the lead bottle covered in binding runes, unstopper it, and use what is left of my magic to force the lich inside. It does not go willingly, but using the power of its name, I’m the one who’s in control. The green light disappears inside the bottle, and I slam the stopper in.

All the binding runes light up, and the bottle is hot and vibrates slightly. Caraxmorenas is fighting against the runes, and I speak aloud their names along with the lich’s name, strengthening them, making the bottle into the lich’s personal prison.

I take a shaky breath, some of my tension dissipating. My feelings are far from relieved or victorious. This bottle won’t hold our enemy forever.

For now, I stash it in my bag and run to Zabriel. His eyelashes are fluttering, and he groans in discomfort. I place my hands on his shoulders and help him to sit up.