Chapter Twenty
Maxim
Ilost her.
I lost the Oracle, and I lost the Dragonstone Blade.
A roar pushes at my throat, but I can’t let it out. I have to smother it as I oppress every other need and want that rages through my mind and body.
My golden serpent sails through the open air at the southern edge of the bloodlands’ darkness, staying within the sunlight but flying close to the perpetual night.
The only way to survive within the bloodlands is to either outrun the vampyrs or, in my case, burn them to ash.
Certainly, I could have cast firebolts at them, but I couldn’t risk hitting the Oracle. I can’t let my fire burn uncontrolled, or I’ll kill my own serpent and, again, the Oracle.
Too many times, my power has made me powerless, but never more so than today.
So I continue flying at the edge of the darkness.
Always, I’m at the edge of darkness.
Following its curve, I take the longer path across the Iron Kingdom. Soon enough, I will reach the towers Antony set up to defend his borders and then…
What then?
Another roar pushes at my throat. I have no plan. I could easily breach the Iron Kingdom’s initial defenses, but I’d invite a response from the entire Iron Army. Antony may have taken a defensive stance during his reign, but I’m fully aware he has built up his forces to formidable levels.
If I were willing to burn the Iron Kingdom to the ground, I would have done it already. Fucking years ago.
But a fire like that doesn’t discriminate, and it doesn’t stop.
That kind of fire would burn the world, leaving me a king of ashes.
I’m not so proud to admit that Stellen is smarter than I am. I’m certain he will form a plan and attack strategically. He always does. Striking when and where it hurts the most.
But I am of the fire, and fire is volatile. My emotions dictate my actions, and they can flare from furious to destructive in a matter of heartbeats.
The only time I was calm was in the Oracle’s presence.
Far below me, the landscape has become rocky, the sandy terrain of my kingdom encroaching from the south.
Further along the Iron Kingdom’s southern border, rocky mountains protect against the dry heat of my land, but here, whatever rivers might have once existed have turned dry.
I could claim this corner of Antony’s kingdom if I wished, but I would rather leave a wide barrier between my people and the bloodlands’ dark inhabitants.
As I verge further south, I draw closer to my border, although it remains miles away.
My serpent riders have followed their orders to return home.
Before we left the Ember Kingdom this morning, headed for the coastal village, I swore them to secrecy.
They won’t breathe a word of where we went today for fear I’ll burn them and their families to ash.
Being alone now doesn’t frighten me. I’m often alone.
Without warning, iron metal glints at the edge of my vision.
My head snaps up in time for an arrow to whoosh past my face, its tip grazing my jaw, slicing across my skin.
A sharp burn registers in my senses, along with the scent of my scorched flesh. I’m certain it only missed me because I moved my head in the nick of time.
I’m not invulnerable to iron, but the stomach-turning smell is the least of my concerns.
When I try to identify my attacker’s position, the sunlight flares in my eyes, and I can’t see where the fuck the strike came from.
I lean low over my serpent’s neck as he deploys a defensive maneuver. He’s experienced enough with battle that I don’t have to signal to him which way he should go.
As he rolls mid-air, tipping so far to the left that we’re nearly upside down, I catch a glimpse of my would-be assailant.
A single giant eagle streaks across my view, its majestic chestnut-brown wings recognizable even from the barest glimpse I catch.
So is its rider.
Cassia of the Starlit Court stands upright in her bird’s saddle, expertly aiming two more iron-tipped arrows at me, her balance and precision beyond compare.
Antony’s sister is one of the most formidable, deadliest warriors in his airborne legion. I hate to admit it, but she’s more skilled than any of my serpent riders. She’s taken down many of my warriors and many of Stellen’s fighters, too. Last I heard, her kill count was at one hundred.
It’s why Stellen’s General, Lilis, has been trying to take her out. Well, that and to provoke Antony into doing something reckless.
Now, it seems Cassia must have been caught up in the fight back at the coast after Antony got away with the Oracle. She’s certainly been delayed for some reason; it seems the other two eagle riders have abandoned her.
Perhaps they’re dead.
Whatever the reason, she’s chosen to pick a fight with me.
A choice that can only guarantee her doom.
Within the brief moment that I catch sight of her, I lean backward, allowing my serpent to carry me through his mid-air roll while I grip his body tightly with my legs, my muscles honed for these exact maneuvers, keeping me safely on his back even when we’re upside down.
Fire builds in my palm as I anticipate exactly where Cassia’s eagle will carry her by the time my serpent’s path evens out.
My arm is outstretched, and my fire is ready.
She won’t shoot her arrows at me in time to stop me.
The second we come out of the roll, I shoot a firebolt from my palm, a ball of flame large and fiery enough to take down an eagle twice the size of Cassia’s.
It’s a perfect shot.
Across the distance, Cassia’s face pales before fire consumes my view of her.
But—damn! Her eagle’s evasive response is quick. Like my serpent, it must be seasoned in battle, and, judging by how in-sync Cassia’s movements are with her bird’s, they’re highly attuned to each other.
The bird plummets, tipping to its right as it dives, leaving the firebolt I shot at it to soar wide of Cassia’s body.
It looks like I missed both her and the bird entirely.
Until the tip of its left wing begins to smolder.
My fire must have caught the edge of its feathers when the bird tipped to the right.
The eagle saved Cassia from the worst of the killing blow but sacrificed its wing in the process.
I know what will happen next.
My fire loves air.
The faster the bird flies, the faster it tries to get Cassia away from me, the quicker the fire will catch.
Cassia’s desperate cry reaches me across the distance. She’s already snapped her bow and arrows onto the harness at her back, and now she thumps her bird’s neck. “Down, Fortuna! Down!”
The fact that she’s named her eagle tells me she’s emotionally attached to it. She won’t sacrifice it, not even to save herself.
Below us, the terrain is rocky, the remains of a riverbed filled with sand and grit.
I let her dive toward it, her bird in a near-fall directly ahead of me.
I could kill Cassia right now, but I won’t strike her in the back. That’s a fucking coward’s move.
I always face my enemies when I kill them.
Her bird hits the ground, and she jumps off its back in the same moment, her desperate jump taking her right past its smoldering wing, which she grabs, yanking it toward the ground.
I can’t help but admire her determination when she grabs up handfuls of sand and throws them onto the eagle’s feathers.
She’s screaming, but her words are unintelligible until the last. “Oh, please… Please don’t burn…”
I land quietly, waiting for the whoomph, the sound of igniting flames, that will tell me Cassia’s efforts were in vain.
She’s risking her life standing so close to her bird.
A tense minute later, I’m met with her quiet sobs. Relieved sobs as a final, thin tendril of smoke rises at the eagle’s side, and it seems, by some miracle, she has saved her bird.
She hasn’t saved herself.
I’m fully aware of what my father did to her family, sending an Ember Fae to burn her brother, a misidentification that turned the mission into a complete failure and left me with a vengeful enemy.
Any dreams I had of building peace with the Iron Kingdom were destroyed that day.
Well, I didn’t start this fight.
Cassia did.
But, by fuck, I’ll end it.