Flames of Fury and Prophecy

Prologue

EVERETT

Seven Years Ago

Ihadn’t seen the sun in four years.

At this point, I forgot what it looked like. Was it more bright yellow or orange? Or closer to a golden yellow? Could you actually see rays coming off of it, or was that merely something children painted?

The last glimpse I had of it had been through the bars of a carriage when I was carted off from my home.

My family and most of the village was ravaged by disease, leaving me a penniless orphan, alone and scared.

When someone came by with promises of a better life, I didn’t question it: I had nothing left to lose.

If I’d known what awaited me, I would’ve taken my chances with the disease.

I swatted my leg, knocking off several fleas. A rat scurried down the side of my cell and out the slim opening between bars. As the sound of its nails on stone faded away, the silence pressed in once more. It hollowed me out like rot eating through old wood, day after day after day.

But this time…there was something new.

Boots echoed farther down the hall, growing nearer. I lifted my head from the dank wall to see shadows moving outside my cell. There was a creak of iron bars, rattling chains, and a muffled thud from the cell next to me.

And then a voice.

“Get me out of here!” someone cried. A girl, I thought. “I haven’t done anything wrong!” The bars clinked as if someone shook them. More shadows appeared in front of her cell, but the chains around my ankles and wrists wouldn’t let me move far enough to see who it was.

“You know I can burn this down in a second,” the girl hissed.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” another voice said. That one, I knew. Both fury and fear ignited, my body’s instant response to our jailer’s presence.

“Who are you?” she demanded. She was certainly a spitfire. I remembered what that had been like.

They would soon take that from her, too.

“My name is Malek Mortep. I’ve heard so much about you, little bird.”

There was a pause. Then—“What do you want from me? Why am I here?”

“What do I want?” Mortep’s voice lowered, so quiet now I had to inch closer to the wall between us to hear. I spotted a small hole, barely big enough to stick a finger through, and pressed my ear to it. “Don’t you realize the magic that lies in your veins?”

I raised an eyebrow. What made this girl so special to him?

“I want to see my mother,” was all she said.

“Of course, you do,” Mortep crooned. “Behave for me, and you may get to see your family again.”

Liar, I wanted to scoff.

There was a loud bang, so unexpected I jumped back from the wall. The scent of smoke reached me through the hole.

“I don’t care who you are,” the girl seethed. “Let. Me. Go.”

I could feel her magic permeating the air.

Even through stone, it stirred something in my own well of magic, one that had been cut off for years.

She was fighting. She was trying to get out.

For a moment, a single heartbeat, I thought it had worked—I thought someone might actually escape these cells.

But then Mortep’s dark chuckle filled the air, and that spark of hope fizzled out.

“I suppose we’ll have to build something stronger than this to cage you, little bird.”

And then came her scream. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the wall. They always screamed. It was only a matter of time before she was just like me—alone, empty, and knowing she’d never see the sun again.

A soft cry broke through my restless sleep. I pried my eyes open and squinted, rubbing my temple to banish the hunger headache. More sounds came from the cell next to me, and I groggily remembered the girl.

Chains rattled, and she cried out again. I realized what she was doing—the cuffs they put on our wrists and ankles were enchanted to make us unable to use our magic, but everyone always tried.

“Careful,” I said, barely awake. “You can’t use your magic here.”

Something hit the wall. “Who said that?”

I peered through the hole leading to her cell and saw a figure outlined in the darkness. She was average height with light hair, but that was all I could make out. “On your left,” I responded. She spun to face the wall, everything above her chest still cloaked in shadows. “Lower,” I said.

She crouched to the floor, disappearing from view. The corner of my lip tugged upward. “Higher.”

“For Fate’s sake,” she muttered. “There’s nothing there!”

“Come closer.”

She made a disgruntled noise in the back of her throat. “Sure, because I’m gonna listen to the invisible man in my cell.”

“I’m not invisible, and I’m not in your cell.” This girl. I poked a finger through the hole. “See?”

She went quiet. I removed my finger and put my face against the wall, taking a second to adjust as I stared ahead.

And she stared back.

My breath caught in my throat. Her eyes.

I’d never seen anything like them. They were bright gold, even in the darkness, with flecks of amber and yellow beams threaded throughout.

A vivid memory slammed into me, one I hadn’t thought of in years, and warmth slipped over me like a blanket.

I was playing in the sand with my mother as the high tide rushed in, spraying seafoam on our faces.

I looked up at Mother with a grin and caught the sun haloing her head in brilliant golden beams.

I remember. This was what the sun looked like.

It was her eyes.

“Hi,” she whispered. The simple word sank into me, settling among the bitterness and dulled edges this life had transformed me into.

I took a breath. “Hello.”