CHAPTER SIX
“Lay my soul to rest in the Hearth of Song, the stars’ blessed kiss—”
My feet no longer touched the ground.
“You’re fine, little viper. There’s no need to pray. Your soul will remain just as it is.”
Hard, unyielding muscle pressed against my side. Kodhan cradled me to him, his arms wrapped underneath my legs, my back. He held fast as he slowly began the winding descent leading back to our wing.
“Are you mad?” I gasped, wrapping my own arms around his neck, desperate to get as far away from the flames as I could manage. As though pressing closer to him would somehow allow me the same invincibility from their hungry, blistering touch.
“Just listen.”
Screams began to echo from almost every wing.
“The fun thing about fire,” he mused, “is that it can go anywhere it wishes. Of course, I don’t know exactly where their rooms are. But they don’t know that.” He winked.
“You’re sick,” I hissed.
“I’m efficient,” Kodhan corrected. The screams grew louder. “They’ll find a way to avoid getting burnt if they’re smart enough.”
As we passed each blazing wing, I reminded myself that those competitors would’ve done the same to us, were the roles reversed. Or worse.
The thought sucked any ounce of sympathy out of my chest.
He paused, his shoes scuffing on stone.
My hands reached for the collar of his vest out of precaution. “Why did you stop?” Surely, he won’t toss me, I thought.
If he was bothered by my vice-like grip on his collar, he didn’t show it. “Notice anything different?” he countered, pointing to the door leading to the sixth wing.
“There’s no screaming.” Tentatively removing my head from the crook of his neck, I strained to listen. “They could still be asleep.”
Eyes falling shut, he stood preternaturally still. Only the slight rise and fall of his chest against my shoulder proved he even breathed at all.
“They’re in there,” he declared. Without warning, he set me down softly, the act surprising considering that Kodhan Dreamourne was not soft at all. No tossing, then.
My body slid against his as he lowered my legs first, allowing me to gather my bearings. With one arm still cradling my back, he used his free hand to ease my fingers from his collar.
And I must have imagined the way his fingers lingered, curling around mine for a moment before dropping them.
He pushed open the door of the sixth wing—which was still on fire—and gestured for me to pass through the flaming threshold.
My heart threatened to punch through my ribs. “You expect me to just… walk through?”
“You won’t get burnt,” he swore, and opened the door wider. Like it would make any difference. “I promise,” he added, noting the newfound pallor in my face, graced with a sickly sheen of perspiration from the heat.
“Your promises mean nothing to me,” I leered, eyeing the writhing flames flickering around him.
His glare was as hard as the surrounding stone. “You can either take my word, or wait for someone proficient in water to make their way out of their wing and drown you where you stand instead.” A beat of silence. “Or perhaps for someone to come suck the air out of your lungs. Or maybe—”
“I get it,” I snapped. Insufferable bastard.
The insult floated, unspoken, through the air.
Kodhan’s lips quirked up at the ends. Taunting. Daring me to speak the words.
Stars, protect me.
Forcing one foot in front of the other, I crossed the burning threshold.
Fire coated the walls of the corridor like bright, golden paint. Writhed along the ceiling like snakes.
Mercifully, he hadn’t lied. When I stepped past Kodhan, the flames reached towards me, but pain did not follow. Instead, the barest of tingles sprouted along the sides of my arms and legs. Warm, but far from unpleasant.
Only when I was a few paces away did the flames dissipate, taking the haunting echo of those screams with them.
“That was…” I started.
“Impressive. I know.”
“Exhilarating.”
I’d made it through solely because he willed it.
But nevertheless, my heart now pounded for an entirely different reason.
I almost wanted to ask him to call the flames again, just so that I could feel them once more.
To toy with something so deadly and get away with it.
Slip between its fingers before it could claim me.
I have to win, I thought desperately.
I could become the flame. Something to fear.
My lips pressed tightly together, sealing the request away. The last thing I wanted was for Kodhan to know how much I craved the touch of magic against my skin.
But it was too late. Kodhan had already seen enough.
“If you want to play with fire, little viper, all you have to do is ask. I’d be happy to oblige.” He didn’t wait for a response. He strode past me, though not before I could catch the gleam in his eye.
Ignoring the heat sprouting along the base of my spine, spreading to the lower parts of my stomach, I bit the inside of my cheek. Refused to play his game.
When I played with fire, it would be mine. Only mine.
A familiar voice called out from behind us. Followed by the echo of angry footfalls. “Bastard! You almost burnt my boots!”
Kodhan had been right, after all.
Despite the accusation, he turned with a smile brighter than the flames he’d conjured. “My apologies.”
“My apologies? So it will be my apologies when my fist connects with your nose?” Brannon challenged, crossing the length of the corridor with Theia at his side. Their clothes were twin to ours. It made them look all the more threatening.
“They’re just boots.”
“Just boots.” Brannon pointed an accusatory finger.
Several char-marks did mar his boots. He’d ditched the rings.
A pity, but they had no real value here.
“Try getting through these trials barefooted, and then come and speak to me.” He inclined his chin towards me.
“Good to see you’re still in one piece, Eloise. ”
“I’m still in one piece too, if you haven’t noticed.” Kodhan crossed his arms over his chest.
Brannon sighed. “Unfortunately.”
Theia jabbed her elbow into his ribs, although her smile betrayed her amusement. She stepped closer to me. “You kept your promise.”
Not entirely sure of what to say, I cleared my throat. “Why wouldn’t I? It wasn’t a very difficult one to keep.”
Her smile grew even wider than Kodhan’s.
“Come on, we’ll talk behind an extra set of hinges. There are likely sixteen angry competitors about to run amok, thanks to you.” Brannon shot an agitated glare in Kodhan’s direction, who didn’t look the least bit guilty.
He picked another stray piece of ash off his sleeve. “Like I’ve said before. I’m efficient.”
And that was all he spared before we trailed back to Brannon’s room.
It looked exactly like mine. It held the same empty hearth, a bed, chair, and a sad excuse for a mirror hung on the wall facing the bed. Theia’s room was a few doors off. Closer in distance than mine and Kodhan’s, which saved them the initial trouble of finding each other.
Sensing my stare, Kodhan narrowed his eyes at me before claiming the edge of the bed, resting both elbows on his knees. “We found Theia and Brannon.”
“An astute observation.”
“You said that you would explain. So, speak.”
I knew we didn’t have the blessings of time on our side. But I perched on the chair, crossing one leg over the other before leaning back against the hearth. “I’m not a dog.”
“No?”
“Kodhan.” Theia’s warning sliced through the thickness in the air. Sharper than the blade at my hip. “Don’t be an ass.”
“Seems like that’s all he knows how to do,” I remarked, fidgeting with the hilt of his blade.
Theia tucked a strand of copper hair behind her ear, eyes flickering upwards as if praying for extra patience. “Is this about how you took his dagger from him?”
“What makes you think I took it from him?”
“He would never willingly hand it over.” The seriousness of her tone had me letting go of the hilt. “He’s not dead, which means you must have fought him for it and won. And if you won…” A small smile. “I could learn a thing or two from someone as skilled as yourself.”
Brannon nodded in agreement, then added, “I know you have at least one hundred reasons not to trust any of us. We understand that. Really, we do.” His amber eyes softened. “But this is new for us, too. We’re used to our ways. Aware of all our strengths and weaknesses.”
“We’re allies now. Our best chance at survival is if we work together.” Theia’s smile grew into something warm, reassuring.
Gnawing on the inside of my cheek, I avoided Kodhan’s expectant look. Brannon’s room was too damned small. I had no place to hide. No corner to fade into.
Death hurts more than fear.
“Diana’s guard, Gideon, taught me everything I know,” I began hesitantly. “I was much younger when he started teaching me the basics. It built from there.”
“My father speaks well of him,” Kodhan said, nodding. “They worked together for years. Fought on the same training mats. It would make sense as to how you managed to somewhat hold your own.” Without any magic, went unsaid. “Our teachers were friends.”
“I watched you bleed as I held your own dagger to your throat. I think somewhat is an understatement,” I argued crisply.
Amusement fluttered around the room on sprouted wings. Brannon did nothing to hide his laugh, the sound low, and smooth like velvet. He’d won the hearts of many with that laugh alone, no doubt.
“Please,” he said through another chuckle. “Don’t hold out on the details.”
“The details aren’t necessary,” Kodhan replied before I could, through gritted teeth.
“For now.” Theia cleared her throat, struggling to swallow her own laugh. “So you fight similarly. That’s good, then.”
“You left out an important piece of the story,” Kodhan drawled above their snickering.
When Brannon and Theia’s inquisitive stares settled on me once more, I debated plunging Kodhan’s dagger into his stomach.
I shifted in my seat. “I’m sure whatever you’re about to say is hardly important.”
“Taking the lives of innocents is unimportant?”