29. Maxim
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Maxim
Fire rages across the air, smoke rising from smashed and burning canisters as my serpent darts around the rubble of an Iron Tower, spearing toward the next catapult.
Hadrian thought he could resume his assault on my people, but I’ve taken the fight to him, pushing his line of attack farther and farther back until we’re fighting in Iron Kingdom airspace.
My warriors have taken up formation on the ground, each covered in white frost so they can run through the smoke. The frost doesn’t last long, but it’s enough time for my men to take down Hadrian’s soldiers and steal their breathing apparatus.
Behind us, the Frost King moves fast, riding his wolf across the rocky ground, neutralizing the smoke.
A strange alliance between us.
Nothing I can do destroys the catapults. And nothing I do stops them from firing, their mechanism perfectly automated. Even the unfired canisters are protected from damage by casing made of that same dark wood.
But I can make sure they explode where Stellen can neutralize them, ensuring we control the damage.
My only goals are to keep my men alive and stop the smoke from traveling into my kingdom.
Suddenly, a spear of ice shoots past my ear, so close, it nicks me.
What the—!
When I spin, I catch sight of the canister I missed, now exploding harmlessly within the scattering ice. That canister would have struck my serpent. The exploding dust would have burned out his breathing.
He’s already banking, never shrinking from a fight, the angle of his flight bringing Stellen into my line of sight below me where the Frost King races along the mountain ridge on his wolf.
It seems the spear wasn’t only to save my serpent, but also to get my attention.
He gestures sharply to the ground.
“Down,” I cry to my serpent, grateful for the saddle made out of the dragon’s hide as fire bursts uncontrollably around my chest.
I’ve stopped trying to conceal the dragon’s skin. Only with its protection can I join this fight without fearing I’ll kill my serpent. I’ve even used it as a shield against my fire when I was flying near my men.
As we soar toward Stellen, he shouts, “Thyra’s awake!”
My heart leaps in a way it shouldn’t. Finally, I’ll stand face to face with the Oracle again.
But I can’t see her anywhere nearby, or the presence of a messenger, so how the fuck does Stellen know she’s awake?
He points at the dunes behind the mountain range in the west. “She’s in trouble!”
My serpent speeds over Stellen’s head and in that moment, I’m gripped with indecision, my instincts chaotic.
I’m needed here. Thyra doesn’t know me. She’ll see me as a threat. I could burn her by accident. Stellen should go to her instead of me. But if he leaves the border, the fires will burn and Hadrian will win.
Stellen’s roar carries the power of his Voice, taking on a near tangible force. “Go.”
I shake off the compulsion, his power only lasting a heartbeat, my doubts already vanished.
I shout to my serpent, “Find the Oracle!”
He shoots forward, faster than before, racing through the air along the mountain ridge and then down toward one of the narrow passes through the mountains.
In the distance, I make out a group of fae and serpents gathered on the dunes while a cluster of serpents circles above them.
My serpent flies toward them like a beast possessed, hissing more angrily than I’ve ever heard him, so loudly, I can make out his snarls above the rushing wind.
As we race closer, the details become clear.
Eight serpents and riders bearing Lord Boaz’s insignia circle the air above a group of women huddled where they stand on the ground. Seven more serpents and riders have penned the women in on all sides, but it looks like one of the women is making a move from the center of the group.
Meanwhile, another woman is being dragged toward Lord Boaz while he creates fire lashes in the air.
I expect to hear screams, but the woman being dragged isn’t making a sound. Even the woman in the center is moving silently.
Oh, fuck no.
My lips draw back from my teeth, fury blasting fire around my hands.
Nobody hurts my Mothers.
If I thought I could control my fire with pinpoint accuracy, Lord Boaz and the man dragging the Mother would already be dead.
My serpent is upon them.
Silently, I leap from my beast’s back, launching myself directly at Boaz, leaving my serpent to continue on through the air, his golden form storming at the airborne beasts and forcing them to scatter.
The men on the ground shout and disperse, rushing back from the women. Whichever of the women was on the move has now stopped and I can’t tell which one she was.
“The king!” the men shout.
The one dragging the Mother drops her abruptly to the sand before throwing himself to the ground, kneeling all the way down over his knees.
Staying clear of the other men, but only because I can’t risk burning my Mothers, I continue charging at Boaz without slowing down.
For the smallest second, he stands his ground. As if he’d dare challenge me.
If he does, I swear to the Goddess, I will end him.
A heartbeat later, he backpedals sharply before throwing himself out of my path and onto his knees, head down, bowing low.
“My king!” he shouts.
My roar is like a whip, my fire spiraling around my chest. “Do you not recognize my Mothers?”
I loom over him. Inches from setting him on fire.
Again, I will him to make a move. Give me a fucking excuse.
Boaz keeps his head down. “Your Mothers have no escort. I only sought to protect them.”
With a firelash? I want to tear him apart. Discard his body parts across the dunes.
I opt for the smarter response. “So you did recognize them.”
He stays silent. Slowly tucks his hands under his knees, attempting to pull strands of hair out of sight. No doubt hair he ripped from the head of one of my Mothers.
“Boaz.” Fury suddenly makes me calm, the worst kind of anger, as far as I’m concerned, because it will make me act rationally. “Do you think for a fucking second that I would allow my Mothers to be endangered?”
His head remains down, but I can practically hear his whirling thoughts. He’ll be trying to figure out how to respond without losing his life.
I let him have his silence as I scan the men and serpents, including those now scurrying to land, their riders sliding to the ground so they can kneel low and press their foreheads to the sand.
I have the perfect punishment for these fucking cowards.
“I thought you didn’t have any men to spare for the fight at the border,” I say to Boaz. “Clearly, you lied to my sister.”
Without waiting for him to bluff his way past my accusation, I raise my voice. “All of you! Report to General Kaiba at the border. Consider yourselves conscripted.”
Boaz lurches upward. “No—”
“No?” Flames leap around my hands and I draw my right fist back, ready to let my fire loose. Or so it will appear. I can’t risk it around my Mothers, but Boaz won’t know that for sure.
He freezes. Clears his throat. “Of course, my king.”
I lean in, my fire flickering close to his face. “Defy me again, and I’ll burn your entire fucking family to ash.”
My right hand is burning. Sizzling with dark thoughts. A burn I can’t define. Growing worse with every heartbeat.
“Now get out of my sight.”
Boaz jumps to his feet, but I grab his arm.
He freezes, and I recognize the mortal fear in his eyes as the residual heat in my hand eats slowly through his fire-resistant amor.
“Come near my Mothers again,” I whisper, “and I’ll fucking end you.”
I wait another moment, long enough for his skin to blister, before I wrench my hand away.
He backs off, but not without a hiss. “With respect, my king, how would you know?”
His question drives ice down my spine.
I wouldn’t. He could terrorize my Mothers within the underground city, and I wouldn’t know unless Zenaida told me about it. I rely on her to be my eyes and ears, and I trust her without question, but I’m not there to protect her, either.
She told me I needed to choose a successor, an Ember fae who can walk among the people, but I didn’t realize how desperate her request might have been.
Boaz doesn’t waste another second, racing to his serpent, taking to the air, and speeding southeast toward the main entrance into the underground city. His men leap onto their serpents, rising upward in swirls of sand and flying in the opposite direction toward the border.
Only once it’s clear they won’t circle back does my serpent leave the air and land next to the Mothers, a sentry watching over them.
I remain suddenly hunched where I stand in a wide stretch of sand. I reek of thistleberry oil and ash. I’m covered in soot that has only worsened with my flames. Whatever armor I was wearing burned off earlier today, leaving me in tattered pants.
My chest hurts as I prepare to face my Mothers, where they stand closer to me than they have for years. Even the other day, they stayed much farther away.
If the Oracle is among them, she’s well-concealed.
Their silence is, as always, a heavy weight across my shoulders.
“Mothers.” My voice is hoarse. I force myself to stay where I am, even though I want to help the fallen women back to their feet. “Are you hurt?”
They answer me with silence, as I expected they would.
Their faces are pale. They tug their silks back into place, creating hoods that cast shadows over their expressions. Several of them reach for the three who had fallen to the sand, drawing them back into their fold, wrapping their arms around each other.
Then, from within their group, a clear voice sounds.
A voice whose power could drive me to my fucking knees.
“They’re hurting. But they love you too much to tell you that.”
The women part to allow the speaker through and suddenly, I am completely insignificant. A mere grain of sand in these dunes, this vast wasteland stretching out around me while only the Oracle matters.