CHAPTER 31
THE FIRE TEMPLE
Vallenna may worship the Four; Earth, Water, Air and Fire, but you must forge a person in flame to see who they truly are.
– Fire-worshipper proverb
Tobias set out long after night had fallen, riding for the nearest village to send reports of their ‘sightings’ along the northern border.
The sooner he went, the better. The outpost was safe – Tobias assured them he knew of no patrols in the area – so they stayed.
It was warmer, and far more comfortable than the tower.
To Kara’s enormous surprise, Tobias bowed his head before her and brushed his lips across her hand.
“Be safe, Lady Hale,” he said seriously.
He turned to his son, and clapped a firm hand to his shoulder. “For peace, we sacrifice,” he murmured.
“Through blood, we stand,” Sebastian responded, quieter still.
Thorne’s creed.
He left with a sweep of his cloak, the oak door shutting behind him.
Quiet settled in around them. Kara’s thoughts buzzed wildly as she removed her cloak and sank onto the bench as far away from the hearth as she could get.
Her whole life she’d been told that Thornes were brutal – ruthless – all war and no heart.
By her father, her uncle, everyone. She’d known that wasn’t true of Sebastian, of course.
He was ruthless when he needed to be – she’d seen that herself – though never without cause.
But after Cade... she’d wondered if Sebastian was the exception that proved the rule.
Tonight had answered that. Their lord showed kindness and understanding.
Chosen loyalty over law. She shouldn’t have been surprised really, the man had raised Sebastian.
But meeting Tobias Thorne had made her see them in a way she’d never been allowed to before. They were good. Brave. Protective.
How does my father not see that?
Lost in thought, she hadn’t heard Sebastian approach. His voice cut through the noise in her mind. “Do you want me to put it out?” he asked, nodding towards the flames.
She blinked up at him, surprised by the offer.
Always thinking of me first.
“No. It’s fine,” she said, though she wasn’t sure it was. But she needed it to be.
Kara reached for his hand instead, before the memories could take hold. “Sit with me?”
Sebastian took her hand at once, settling at her side. They both fell quiet, absorbing the weight of the evening.
Eventually, Kara spoke, “Well, that was... unexpected.”
“Yeah,” he replied. “It was.”
Kara tilted her head, studying him closely. “What are you thinking?”
He dragged a hand down his face. “That I trust him. I do. But...” He let out a sharp breath. “All his strategy, his manoeuvring, I understand it, respect it... to a point. But it put your life at risk. And now he wants me to do it again.”
Kara laced her fingers more securely through his. “It was my choice then. It’s my choice now, even knowing the risks. Your father respects that. You should too.”
He searched her face, conflicted. At last gave her a wry smile. “He liked you. Even after he noticed you’d healed me.”
“He did?” she asked.
“Definitely,” Sebastian answered. “He’s not like that with people. He doesn’t give out respect easily. Or affection.”
“Well, good. Because I liked him too.”
Kara leaned into his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her waist. “I thought I was on shaky ground when he saw your arms.”
“Yeah.” Sebastian stretched out his free arm. “So did I. When you first healed them, I was... not pleased.”
Understatement. You were furious with me.
“I expected him to react the way I did, Thorne pride, tradition, dishonour to the House, all of it. But he didn’t–” he broke off, sounding almost wondering. “He just looked back to the map and moved on.”
“Does it still bother you?” Kara asked. “That they’re gone?”
Sebastian considered that. “No. Hard to care about something like scars after I almost lost you.”
Kara didn’t know what to say to that, so she nuzzled into his neck as he kissed her hair. “You know, when you were making the plan with your father... you were very impressive.”
Sebastian looked down at her, one brow lifting, a hint of mischief on his face. “Impressive?”
“Yes, all tactical and soldierly–” she stopped at the expression on his face.
“Soldierly?” he repeated, grinning.
Her cheeks flushed. “You know what I mean.”
“Should I start planning battle strategies for you more often?” he asked smugly.
She threw him a look, but couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. “Don’t push it.”
His eyes danced. “Not pushing. Just noting what gets your attention.”
Kara shook her head, laughing under her breath. “Unbelievable.” She sobered slightly. “The patrols inside the temple...”
“Yes?”
“How–”
“Non-lethally if I can.” Sebastian assured her. But as she nodded, he grew more serious. “But Kara, I need you to understand, if you’re in danger, I won’t hesitate. Even if it means–”
“I know.”
Because she did know. She’d known since the forest in Fatàn. Since her cell.
“But we’ll try, won’t we?” she asked. “Not to.”
His brow creased. “Of course we will. Sleep magic first.”
“I’m sorry,” Kara said quickly. “That was–”
“Fair,” he said. “You’re allowed to ask what you’re walking into, Kara.”
He met her gaze evenly. She searched his face for signs she’d upset him, or pushed too far, but found none.
“Okay,” she whispered.
Kara didn’t let Sebastian go that night. They had two days, and she didn’t intend to waste a single moment. In two days’ time, they would go into battle... together.
Through blood, we stand.
Tobias had been right: the journey through the last parts of Sorrel towards the Fatàn–Thorne border had been slow.
They’d spent most of the two days trying to remain undetected.
Thorne soldiers were everywhere. They hadn’t dared ride the whole way.
The valmares were too loud on some of the trails, too easy to spot at a distance.
They’d had to dart off the trail and hide in the brush or the trees more than once whilst patrols passed, holding as still as statues as glints of armour and steel blades marched past them, unknowing how close they were to their quarry.
Sebastian was a shadow beside her. Calm.
Deliberate. When panic threatened to overwhelm her and her breathing came too fast or too loudly, he was there to steady her. Never letting go of her hand.
He drilled her mercilessly the whole journey, until she could recite the plan off by heart.
She knew exactly which wall he’d scale to open the old iron gate, the specific path they’d take to the Shard, their exact escape route.
South. Together. She wouldn’t leave him, and had made that abundantly clear when he’d told her to if things went wrong.
He taught her fieldcraft as they went: when she shifted too far into the open, he guided her into cover with a gentle hand.
They were hidden behind mossed rocks when he pointed to faint grooves in the mud.
“Boot tracks,” he’d told her. “Three-man patrol came through recently. They’ll likely circle back.”
He became different in moments like these – not the man who teased her by the fire, but the soldier Tobias had raised, a commander, a tactician.
She loved every side of him.
Smart. Protective. And very capable.
She didn’t tell him that though. He’d get all cocky about it.
He grabbed her arm suddenly. “Only step there if you want the whole forest to hear.”
She looked down. She’d been about to step on a patch of brittle twigs.
“And here I thought you were trying to impress me,” he smirked.
Her mouth fell open, indignant, and his smirk faded. “Don’t worry. You’re improving.”
He’s still completely infuriating.
“Remind me to thank my excellent teacher.”
It was on the second afternoon that the trees thinned, signalling their arrival at the southern side of the Fire Temple.
The sky had taken on a strange, burnt hue – despite nightfall being hours away.
Smoke drifted on the horizon, carried eastward from Fatàn’s volcanic range, blurring the skyline.
The scent of it clung to Kara’s nose and throat, and bent over, hands braced on her knees, nauseated.
Don’t throw up.
Sebastian squeezed her hand. “Volcanic ash – not fire.”
Easy for him to say.
All Kara could think of was the pyre. The smoke. The heat. Death closing in on her. She focused on taking deep, even breaths. The crunch of gravel beneath her boots, the feel of his hand in hers. She wouldn’t let this break her.
Finally, the nausea passed.
The Fire Temple was as beautiful as it was deadly: a truly awe-inspiring sight.
It stood with the village of Ashguard in its shadow, at the meeting place of the two regions: Fatàn’s dark hills and lava to the west, Thorne’s stark stone cliffs to the east. It was larger than a castle.
Grand beyond belief. Its outer walls were carved out of jagged obsidian rock, with turrets, ramparts, high gates, and flaming torches.
Kara’s stomach lurched. Calling it a temple was laughable. It was a Godsdamned fortress. She eyed the Thorne soldiers pacing, armed with blades and Sorrel hunters on the ramparts with bows and spears.
And this is the lightly guarded section?
Sebastian crouched low, pulling her down beside him behind a heap of rock.
They peered over – their position on the hill gave them a clear vantage over the southern approach, the scant trees just enough cover.
They’d hitched the valmares half a mile away, where the vegetation was thicker.
The ground in front of them now sloped into a narrow valley, a natural trench, deep enough that the temple ramparts rose above it like a cliff edge.
The Sorrel archers would be watching the ridges beyond – not the depression directly below the walls.
That’s what the platoon of Thorne soldiers was there for.
“Rotations are every thirty minutes,” he said after a while, watching the pattern unfold below. “Pairs on the perimeter, as Father said, and larger groups within the valley.”