Chapter 22 Maxim
Chapter Twenty-Two
Maxim
Sliding from my serpent’s back, I keep Cassia in my sights, fully expecting her to retaliate at my approach.
She has nowhere to hide, and she knows it, quickly backing away from her injured bird along the rocky ground, taking the threat of my fire away from it.
Quickly, I assess the terrain around me, the expanse of sand and grit along the dried riverbed we’ve landed in.
Always, I must remain aware of my surroundings and all flammable objects within them.
I’ve landed a solid fifty paces away from her, the distance I judged safest for my serpent if her bird’s body ignited.
Because of my battle with Stellen earlier today, many of the leather straps crisscrossing my chest are scorched, some hanging on by threads, but that doesn’t bother me. I don’t carry any weapons, since they’ll only burn to ash.
Hell, I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve ended up buck naked because of my fire.
Sweat drips down my chest as I prowl toward Cassia.
Flames flicker around my hands, but I’m more than a little surprised when I’m able to douse them. Maybe it’s because of the calm the Oracle brought me earlier today.
Or, it’s because my fire is unpredictable, luring me into a false sense of control only to explode when I least expect or want it to.
For now, I’ll make the most of that control, my booted feet quiet as I make my way across pebbles and sand, ready for her to defend herself as best she can.
Her movements are fluid as she draws her bow and nocks two arrows to it—the same two she aimed at me in the air, judging by the emptiness of the quiver at her back now.
When her eagle edges toward her, she shouts at it. “No, Fortuna! Stay where you are.”
My voice is soft with threat as I finally speak. “What makes you think I won’t burn that animal after I kill you, Cassia of the Starlit Court?”
Her lips twist as she calls back to me, “Because it would be far crueler to send my bird back to my brother with a singed wing and leave him to agonize over what happened to me.”
I incline my head. “Well, it seems you’ve been taking lessons from his cruelty.”
She doesn’t deny my accusation. But why would she? We’re all cruel.
With quick flicks of her wrist, she lets the arrows fly, one after the other, in quick succession.
I sense the friction in the air as she uses her power over iron to steer the metal toward me. They’d be perfect shots if I weren’t so fast.
In that heartbeat, I consider burning them to dust mid-air, but I’d rather keep my fire constrained while I can.
At the last possible moment, I lean left and then right, evading the strikes.
The arrows shoot past me before Cassia has any hope of using her power to adjust their trajectory.
What I’ve learned of Iron Fae power is that they can manipulate an iron object’s path, but only while it’s airborne. They can’t pick it up from the ground once it’s landed. I’ve also never seen an Iron Fae spin a metal object around mid-air, only guide its path forward.
Of course, I’m fully aware I may not have witnessed Antony’s full powers today.
The arrows thud-thud into the ground behind me, one after the other, and I quicken my pace.
Now that the quiver at Cassia’s back is empty, she’s out of shots.
She reaches for the dagger in the holster at her waist, holding it by its steel hilt while revealing its iron blade as she brandishes it in a warrior’s grip. Clearly, she’s as well-trained in the use of short blades as she is in the employment of arrows.
“My brother has the Oracle,” she cries across the now twenty paces between us. “The Oracle’s visions belong to him. He’ll break the curse, and all of our enemies will be destroyed. Including you.”
She’s trying to provoke me, trying to draw me in. She needs me to get close because the dagger is all she has.
Or, maybe she would prefer a quick death and is trying to provoke my fire, rather than my fists.
She bares her teeth at me. “You’ll die in your own flames.”
I pause, but not because her threat has frightened me. “I’m already dying in my fire.”
At my response, tears of what can only be anger release from her eyes and cut glistening trails down her cheeks.
She’s as savagely beautiful as every other member of her family, her green eyes an anomaly from her mother’s side. But from the whispers I’ve heard, that alliance has gone horribly wrong.
I resume my pace, now only ten steps away from her. “Will it hurt your brother to lose you?”
Her hand trembles, but I don’t take it as a sign of fear. Her grip on her dagger is even firmer than it was before.
It looks like her death will hurt Antony very much.
From what I’ve heard, he doesn’t love anything except for his siblings.
His bond with his brothers and his sister is a far cry from the relationship I have with my relatives.
We barely speak. But then, that’s self-preservation on their part.
Only the foolhardy or the bravest of the brave spend more time with me than strictly necessary.
I’m the first Ember King to burst into flames when I don’t intend to, which makes me an ever-present threat in my people’s midst.
“I won’t die easily,” Cassia cries, but now I detect despair in her voice, the desperate crease in her forehead all too clear.
I give her a nod. She hasn’t tried to run, and that deserves respect. “I’d be disappointed if you did.”
Without another word, I lunge for her. Her blade swipes across the air between us, perfectly aimed for my neck, a neat way to slit my throat.
I anticipate it.
I catch her arm with one hand, knocking her blade wide so fast that the fear shooting through her eyes would be stomach-churning if I cared for her.
My other hand closes around her neck, wrenching her up off the ground, leaving her feet to dangle.
She gasps for breath, but damn, I admire the way she fights. She claws at me, trying to reach me to gouge my eyes, to rip at my face, but I’m holding her too far away from my body for her fingernails to do any damage.
One of her boots connects with my chest, a hard thump that cracks my upper ribs, sickening crunches that draw hope to her eyes.
Only for her hope to fade, the brief light draining away as fire sizzles across my stomach, lighting up my insides. I can’t see it without looking down—which I’m not about to do—but I know exactly what’s happening.
My power is lighting up my insides, illuminating the broken bones and melding them back together. I do not suffer broken bones like other fae do. Even Antony and Stellen face them, but not me.
The blood has completely drained from Cassia’s face, and her next kick is futile, telling me that her body is now mortally air-deprived.
Tears flow freely down her cheeks, the liquid meeting my fist as I continue to hold her aloft, the muscles in my arm not even straining with effort.
She is nothing more than a feather in my grasp.
Somehow she manages to rasp, “Why…didn’t you…burn me?”
My grip doesn’t loosen. The control I’m exerting over my fire right now is bittersweet. “A warrior such as yourself should not become ash in the wind, Cassia of the Starlit Court. It is an honor to end you.”
Her eyes widen, but they’re glazed now. She only has seconds left before her life will pass, and she will go to whatever Goddess she worships.
She bears her teeth at me, a mangled scream vibrating through her neck and against my hand even as the sound barely makes it to her mouth.
I prepare for her final moments, knowing I could quicken them, but she is far braver even than some of my own people in the face of her death.
I will give her these last, slow heartbeats…
At the moment that her eyes roll back, golden light glints sharply across my vision, a sudden, explosive flash that blinds me completely, making me jolt.
What?
I blink, and Cassia’s gone—
I’m standing, not on the dry riverbed but in some kind of workroom. The scent of burning iron fills my chest. The clang of hammering metal rings in my ears. But while the smell and sounds are clear, every other detail is blurry.
Disoriented, I try to focus on the two figures standing only five paces away from me, both of whose forms are blurred.
Then, with another flash of golden light, one of the figures becomes startlingly clear.
The Oracle!
Her right hand is upraised, an image of the Dragonstone Blade emblazoned on the inside of her arm.
I’m startled to see its golden hilt clearly extending down her palm, its cross-guard wrapped around her wrist, and its blade stretching along her arm, its tip pointing to the inside of her elbow.
Even the white ribbon that the blade was wrapped in appears now inked onto her skin, decorating her forearm and biceps.
A moment later, I’m conscious of the fiery, amber thread that extends between her and me, twining through the air, anchoring her heart to mine.
This same thread connected us back at the village.
I didn’t understand how it formed then, or what power it has, but it must be related to the blade, because a stream of golden light is coursing up her arm, pulsing with energy that then reappears and shimmers along the thread between me and her.
As I reach for the thread, the Oracle’s appearance transforms, just as it did back in the village.
Her irises transform from dull blue to vivid amber, and her hair becomes lush and thick, falling down her sides and caressing her curves. The scent of white roses fills every breath I take, heavy and mesmerizing.
She is, once more, treacherously alluring.
I don’t know how I’m seeing her, but I can’t let her go again.
My hand closes around the amber thread, finding it as solid as a rope between us, tangible and real. It’s my lifeline to drag myself toward her, every step taking me closer to the peace she gives me.
But it’s like stepping through mud, my feet bogged, my legs sluggish, even as the scent of roses grows more intoxicating with every inch of progress I make.
The closer I get to her, the clearer my view of the other figure becomes. He’s partially dressed in steel, his head and torso bare, while his left arm and both of his legs are concealed in black armor.
Antony’s features are blurry, but to even glimpse his face is unsettling. He never exposes it. Not even to his people. Or, so I’ve heard.
I always assumed he covered himself in steel to hide some unsightly feature or because he needed the protection.
Clearly not fucking so.
The wild light in his eyes, the savage twist of his lips, and the hunch of his shoulders remind me of the bloodthirsty beasts that roam my kingdom, killing not for food but because they can.
The Oracle dares to reach for his face, her fingertips close to brushing his jaw, a touch I would give anything to feel, but the threat in his eyes only grows.
I would sacrifice anything for her to close the gap between her and me, to turn to me now in whatever cursed moment this is, and grant me the reprieve it seems only she can bring.
But her focus is on him.
And it’s clear he’s a danger to her.
With a roar, I clamp my hands as tightly around the thread as I can, willing her to stop, willing her to stay right where she is, needing her to turn and face me.
With all my might, I draw myself closer and closer, near enough to extend my hand toward her upraised arm.
I need to get her away from him!
I’m an inch away from touching her, agonizingly close, when a shout reaches me through the haze. “Stop!”—
The thread snaps, and the riverbed crashes back into view.
I drop to my knees with a shout of deprivation, the change in scenery so sudden that my head spins, a splitting pain striking through my forehead.
With a groan, I wrap my head in my hands, rocking forward, vaguely aware of the sound of flapping wings.
Cassia is escaping, her arms and legs pumping as she races toward her eagle.
At some point, I must have opened my hand and dropped her. Maybe she even punched me in the face before she ran away. It would explain the headache and the blood dripping into my eye from what must be split skin above my eyebrow.
She launches herself onto her eagle’s back a moment before it takes to the sky. I catch her bloodshot eyes and the bruises blossoming around her neck as she rises into the air, fleeing as fast as she can.
My groan grows louder. Damn and fuck.
A low keening sound from behind me tells me my serpent is edging toward me, but I hold up my hand, warding him off. “Stay.”
I sense my fire is close to erupting. I’ve held it at bay for a long time now, longer than I thought possible, and it’s pushing toward the surface.
I can’t pursue Cassia. Not when I can’t see straight.
Not when my head is pounding, and my fire is about to rage out of control, and the Oracle’s scent fills my chest. All while her earlier command repeats in my memory over and over. A rebuke against the way I tried to claw my way toward her just now.
Come for me when the sun turns bitterly cold, and the sand bleeds iron. Come for me only then.
I slump forward, my fists thumping the dry sand as I try to make sense of what happened, of the energy pulsing from the blade, the amber thread connecting me to her, and how I could have seen her across the distance between us.
I’m certain that what I witnessed was happening in that exact moment. It wasn’t in the past or the future.
Anger rises within my heart, replacing the pain, because I’ve lost her. Again.
A roar leaves my lips. A desperate exhalation.
With it, flames finally explode from my torso and arms, burning through the remaining leather on my chest, spearing across the ground in front of me, spreading and spreading as far as I can see. Threatening to set the whole fucking world on fire.
My serpent rushes into the air, barely escaping the explosion. The nearest dry twigs disintegrate in a flash. The sand and grit beneath me turn to lava, and the empty pit inside my chest threatens to swallow me.
I sink to the ground as my fire finally stops on a far ridge, finally burns itself out, leaving me inhaling smoke and despair.
Gone is any shred of peace the Oracle’s presence brought me.
In its place is rage.
I have no choice but to defy her command.
Sure, I’ll return home now. I’ll start planning and preparing. I’ll find a way to strike Antony’s Kingdom when it will hurt him the most.
But I can’t wait for her.
Not when waiting can only bring death to everyone around me.