Chapter 37
It was a blessing from the Goddess that Corinne’s journey away from Vytanos was on her own.
The moment she cleared the city gates, she let the tears fall, let herself sob freely atop her horse.
Chala had insisted she be given a speedy mount and instructed her to make haste as Mother Creita had, but Corinne was in no hurry to reach the monastery.
How she’d longed to return weeks ago. Now, not even the sight of the mountains and sky along the road could touch the growing misery in her heart.
Was this her punishment for opening her heart to non-Lightguards? For kissing Aryel, for letting him touch her, taste her the way he had? That shame she’d kept at bay washed over her in full force. She gritted her teeth against another sob, wiping at her eyes.
Helaera, please. I don’t know what to do.
The Goddess had never spoken to her, not directly, but she’d felt Helaera’s presence in her magic, in the sunlight, in the songs of the weekly ritual.
Every Lightguard knew it wasn’t in Helaera’s nature to physically appear before mortals and speak to them, but she wished desperately for once that Helaera would do so now and give her direction.
She needed someone to help her make sense of it all. She needed a mother.
It wasn’t Mother Creita who flashed in her mind at that thought, but Selana Mykotas.
That’s part of Her Light too.
If Corinne was so sure that her newfound friendships were blessed by Helaera, what did that mean for her return to the monastery, where every face would bring her anxiety and insecurity?
She would never know peace beneath the certainty that they would hate her if they knew who she was and what she had done.
She rode on, her thoughts spiraling as she reached the crest of a hill. A small voice in her head, gentler than the one that usually plagued her, whispered to her, rising above the turbulence in her mind.
What if you left?
No, she couldn’t do that. Helaera may not have judged Corinne unworthy for her actions these past weeks, but the Goddess did not abide defectors. Corinne couldn’t lose her connection to the Light.
A distant, low rumble sounded, and Corinne sniffed, looking at the sky above her.
There wasn’t a cloud in sight. Another, louder this time.
She blinked in the sunlight and turned, scanning the sky beyond the mountains, but there was nothing but endless blue.
Shifting in her saddle, she looked to Vytanos, now several minutes behind her.
The city’s sprawling rooftops looked ordinary, running up the various hills and cliffs toward the castle. The castle—
Corinne stared at it, not immediately believing her eyes. She blinked several times, but no, she hadn’t hallucinated it.
A plume of smoke was drifting from the north wing, minuscule from this distance, and at its base, by a window, raged the orange glow of a fire.
The castle was on fire.
Corinne wheeled her horse around and took off back the way she’d come.
Vytanos was in a panic all the way out to the gates.
Even galloping as fast as possible, it had taken an excruciating number of minutes for her to get back.
Corinne steered her horse through the streets as quickly as she could without trampling anyone.
The citizens were all rushing to their homes, city guards barking orders to get to safety.
Corinne could think of nothing but reaching the castle.
Please. It was the only prayer she could offer the Goddess, too terrified to give thought to what she was pleading for.
By the time Corinne reached the upper city, the only people remaining in the streets were occasional guards. She pushed her horse faster.
It was pure chaos at the castle gates, people running outside, some wailing, some shouting at guards or nobles shouting at each other.
Hundreds of servants had gathered to stare at the growing cloud of smoke emanating from the north wing.
Corinne jumped down from her horse, the crowd too dense to ride through, and began shoving her way toward the entrance.
“The prince?” she asked a servant, who stared at her like she had two heads. Corinne turned to someone else. “Have you seen the prince?”
The servant shook her head, and Corinne pressed onward. She spotted Captain Ekhana by the doors to the castle entrance, and beside him was—
“Nik!” Corinne cried.
He turned immediately, spying Corinne as she made her way through the shifting crowd. He hurried down the few steps to meet her as she cleared the mass of people.
“Corinne, I thought you’d left?”
“I heard the explosion and wasn’t far,” she said. “Nik, where is everyone? Danai, Iliana, Aryel?”
“Danai is helping a few other guards gather water,” Nik said, twisting the laces on his shirt nervously. “No one knows what happened. We haven’t seen Iliana, and the explosion occurred in the north wing, they think in the throne room.”
Corinne’s heart stopped.
“No one has been able to reach the royal family,” Nik said, his voice barely audible, his eyes pained.
Corinne looked to the castle entrance, where another wave of nobles poured out.
She sprinted for it.
“Corinne!”
She ignored Nik’s protests, dodging nobles, guards, and servants alike as she entered the castle.
She knew the way to the throne room now like it was second nature, dashing through corridors and up flights of stairs.
Halfway down a hallway on the second floor, she skidded to a halt before two figures staggering their way toward her.
One was nearly doubled over coughing, auburn hair falling into her face.
“Iliana!” Corinne rushed forward.
Another guard Corinne didn’t recognize was helping Iliana walk as she coughed, a nasty burn on her left leg.
“Corinne,” she said, her face partially dusted with soot. “The third floor of the north wing—it’s on fire, it keeps spreading, no one can get to the throne room—”
Corinne bent to help when Iliana coughed again, but she waved her off.
“Go, Corinne,” she wheezed. “I’ll be fine.”
“I’ve got her,” the guard said.
Corinne nodded and sped off again, heading for the next stairwell.
She could smell the smoke now. Memories crept in from the back of her mind, and she shoved them away. Ari. I have to find Ari. She dashed up the stairs. The air grew hotter as she reached the third floor, and when she emerged onto the landing, a scene straight from her nightmares awaited her.
Fire licked up the walls mere yards away, debris littering the corridor that led to the throne room.
The open area before the doors was nearly obscured by smoke.
Panic rose in her chest, but she pushed forward, engaging her magic to protect her lungs and eyes at least somewhat.
She kept as low as she could without losing too much speed.
A massive pop sounded just above her, and before Corinne could get out of the way, a piece of the ceiling crashed downward.
She tucked her head beneath her arms, but the impact still sent blinding pain through her shoulder, her arm, her entire left side.
The weight didn’t disappear, pinning her beneath it.
Smoke, burning, a beam on her legs—
Corinne!
Fire was everywhere. Corinne was ten years old again, her body barely sustaining itself, barely keeping her alive as everything burned around her. As she burned.
As her mother died.
Corinne!
Mother!
Her mother screamed, and Corinne let out a guttural cry. No, she had to save her this time. She couldn’t let it happen again. She had to save her. She had to—
Save him.
Reality returned, Corinne’s eyes flying open. She had to save Aryel.
But charred beams of wood lay on top of her, pressing her to the floor, flames beginning to lick at her skin through her armor.
She cried out, her light flaring and then dimming again.
She couldn’t do this, not while fire crept ever closer, heated the metal of her armor, began to burn her.
Tears filled her eyes as the pain overtook her.
She was going to die here, and Aryel…who knew if he was even still alive.
No.
Corinne called upon her light again. It began to heal her, bolster her strength, and she shifted beneath the debris, jostling some of it off her. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth.
Helaera, I beg you. Lend me your strength. Help me save him.
Her magic answered her tenfold, its glow rivaling that of the fire surrounding her. The flames suddenly seemed less hot, less wild, and Corinne remembered what her father had been, what he could do that so few Lightguards could.
That power had been his demise, but perhaps it could be Corinne’s salvation.
She reached for the fire within, then recoiled at the heat and curled in on herself again. She breathed in. No smoke in her lungs, no unbearable burning. She could do this. I can do this. Helaera had not abandoned her.
This time, instead of cowering and shrinking away, Corinne let her light burst outward with another cry.
Fire erupted from her markings, incinerating the debris on top of her, incinerating the straps of her armor and the fabric of her hauberk.
Slowly, she got to her feet, her body healing itself and her mind refocusing.
Fire danced up her hands and arms, and Corinne stumbled forward a step before reaching for the metal plates at her shoulders and neck and ripping them away.
She gripped the chainmail and lifted it over her head, letting it fall in a heap to the charred floor.
The greaves on her legs fell away as she burned those straps, too, leaving her in only her gold tunic and black trousers.
The flames of the corridor made a path for her as she pushed forward again toward the throne room. Her steps were clumsy at first as her pain faded, and then she was running headlong for the throne room.