Ignite

by Sara B. Larson

  “I plan on doing exactly that,” I promised. But in the back of my mind, the threat the man in the dungeons had made lingered, along with the bitter tang of fear in my mouth from the looming fight with Rafe.

  But Tanoori was looking at me with such faith in her eyes, and a smile on her face, that I couldn’t bring myself to say anything that would ruin her hope for happiness. Forcing my worries down, I smiled back.

  She let go of my hand to stand up. “You need to rest, at least for a couple of hours.” She began to gather her things, putting the needle and thread and bloody pieces of fabric and cloth into her basket, as well as a dark bottle of liquid.

  “I can’t afford to let time waste.”

  “You also can’t afford to collapse from exhaustion. I put a lot of work into those stitches. I don’t want them going to waste if you run off and get yourself killed because you’re too tired to fight.” Tanoori pointed her finger at me with mock severity.

  “All right,” I relented. “But do you promise to come wake me in two hours?”

  “Just two hours?” She lifted an eyebrow at me, but when I glared back, she finally nodded. “If you insist.”

  After putting the basket over her arm again, Tanoori turned and headed to the door.

  Just before she opened it, I called out, “Tanoori — I — thank you.”

  “Of course,” she said. “Now get some rest.” And then she was gone, leaving me in solitude for the first time in hours.

  After carefully pulling on a set of clean clothes, I slowly inched my way back down onto the bed. I thought I’d be unable to sleep after all of the horrible and wonderful events of the last day, but this time when I shut my eyes, blood didn’t haunt me, and I was asleep before my head had fully sunk into my pillow.

  A pounding on my door woke me after what felt like only a few minutes. Groggily, I forced my eyes open to gaze blearily around my room. The light from my window was brighter, the sun high in the sky. So it had been longer than a few minutes.

  The pounding came again.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s Rylan,” I heard my friend’s voice through the wood.

  “Well, come in already. What are you waiting for?”

  The door swung open and he strode in, not meeting my eyes. He looked like a thundercloud ready to burst.

  “What is it?” I pushed myself up in bed, feeling my new stitches pull but thankfully hold.

  “We have to go. Now.”

  “All right. I was planning on leaving as soon as I rested a bit. I was ordered to catch up on my sleep.” I stood up and waited for a moment as the blood rushed through my body, turning my vision temporarily dark.

  “This isn’t the time for joking,” he spoke shortly, striding over to me to hand me the sword I’d dropped in Damian’s room.

  “I’m sorry,” I replied, taking the sword and sheathing it at my side. “I wasn’t really trying to be funny. I was only speaking the truth.”

  “Look, something’s happened, all right?” Rylan took my arm when I walked past him to get my extra pair of boots, turning me to look at him.

  “What?” My stomach dropped as I imagined all sorts of horrible scenarios. “Is it Damian?”

  “No. Your fiancé is fine.” He bit out the word. “For now. But the attack the general came to tell him about? It wasn’t an ordinary raid.”

  I stared up into his eyes, relief and fear beating in time with the pounding of my heart.

  “This time, the sorcerer burned the entire village to the ground, killing everyone, except one man. He was only left alive so he could deliver a message. That this is a declaration of war. And that this is only the beginning of what’s to come for our people.”

  THE BLEAKNESS IN Rylan’s eyes matched the sudden horrible emptiness in my gut, the feeling that the ground was falling away from me.

  “But … why?” I whispered. “They killed everyone?” Tears sprang to my eyes as I remembered another attack, another village, years ago, that left me standing alone next to my twin, staring down at the burned bodies of our parents. How could anyone — even a black sorcerer, as vile as they are — kill an entire village of people? Women, children, babies … My stomach lurched, and I was suddenly grateful I hadn’t eaten in so long. There was nothing to come up except bile that burned my throat.

  “King Damian wishes to see you before we go. But we must hurry and finish this and return with Jax. General Ferraun is pushing for retaliation against Blevon, but Damian is still clinging to the hope that it’s not them causing this fight.”

  “It’s not Blevon,” I said. “We know the truth now — it had to be Rafe or Vera controlling the Blevonese soldiers that have been involved in the raids. We can’t attack our allies. The real fight is with Dansii.”

  “No, it isn’t.” Rylan looked at me with pity in his eyes. “The man they sent to deliver the message had a sealed missive. It held the declaration of war — and it was signed by General Tinso.”

  His words echoed in my mind, spiraling down into my body, where shock clutched at my heart. My mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. It wasn’t possible. We knew the truth now — the threat was from Dansii, not Blevon. They were our allies. Eljin had told Lisbet to go to his father if all else failed. General Tinso had done so much to help us —

  “Damian won’t listen to reason, though. He keeps claiming Eljin can prove he’s right, and that there’s no way Eljin’s father really signed the declaration. But Eljin is unconscious right now, and the general doesn’t want to wait for him to wake up before taking a course of action. He feels that too many lives will be lost if this continues. This is two attacks this week alone.” Rylan paused and then said, “Alexa, you have to talk to him. You have to convince him to let go of his hopes and face reality.”

  My mind whirled as I hurried over to get my boots and pull them on. I couldn’t believe it. General Tinso, declaring war on us? Less than two months after helping Damian take the throne — and with his son and sister living here? My stomach clenched as I quickly braided my hair back and bound it with a small leather strap, and then I pulled on a clean vest with the king’s insignia.

  Rylan watched me silently. When I finally faced him, his expression was expectant. “Alexa? Will you talk to him?”

  I took a deep breath and then shook my head. “I agree with Damian. This doesn’t make sense. Why would Blevon declare war on us again — and in such a violent, horrible way?”

  “It doesn’t matter if it makes sense,” Rylan bit out, his color rising, “what matters is saving our people from further destruction. If we don’t fight back, soon there won’t be an Antion to save.”

  His words sent an icy finger of dread through my body. “Where is Damian?”

  “He’s waiting for you in his library.” Rylan opened my door and gestured for me to precede him.

  I rushed down the hallway, desperate to see Damian, to try and figure out what was really going on. Nothing added up. Why would Blevon declare war on us after working so hard to establish peace? Damian was one of their own — a half Blevonese king ruling a neighboring kingdom. They couldn’t hope for a better ally. And after what Eljin and Lisbet had told me about Blevon and their sacred beliefs, I believed Eljin’s claim that Blevon would never use black sorcerers for anything. But then why would General Tinso do this?

  It had to be Dansii. They must have done something to him; they had to be forcing him to do this. Dansii was the kingdom that used black sorcerers. Dansii was the kingdom that would be furious right now at the death of King Hector. The kingdom that had sent the delegation with the intent to bewitch the king, turn him into a mindless slave, and take me for some reason. It all came back to Dansii. Somehow, King Armando was behind this.

  Was it because he wanted Antion? Or was Eljin right, and he was only using us to get to Blevon and whatever secret was guarded there?

  The threat from the man in the robes echoed through my mind again. His promise was coming true — people were dying
.

  I already knew that Rafe was one of King Armando’s secret weapons. But were there more like him? Or others who had powers we couldn’t even fathom? The thought was chilling. Particularly since regular sorcerers couldn’t sense them.

  My mind whirled around and around as I raced through the palace, running toward Damian.

  “Alexa, slow down!” I heard Rylan call from behind me, but I didn’t listen.

  And then I ground to a halt.

  “Alexa!” Rylan shouted, nearly caught up to me, but I ignored him.

  Suddenly, I knew what I had to, even though it would make Damian furious. Turning on my heel, I ran the other way, toward the nearest door that would let me out into the courtyard.

  I was going to the dungeons to talk to the man in the robes.

  * * *

  The dungeons were as dark and hot as always, but instead of Jaerom waiting at the bottom of the stairs with a smile and a teasing welcome, calling me Little Boss, a new keeper of the keys stood in his place, a tall brute of a man with eyes the color of night and a wide mouth. The reality that Jaerom was gone hit me all over again, the memory of Iker killing him on the steps of the palace surging up in my mind.

  “What’s a girl doin’ down here?” the new man growled, pulling my focus back to the moment. “Get back up into the light where you belong.”

  Refusing to be cowed, even though the man was enormous and his arms were the size of both of my thighs put together, I straightened my shoulders and gave him my haughtiest look. “I am no mere girl. I am Alexa Hollen, guard to King Damian, and I’m ordering you to take me to see the prisoner from Dansii who wears the black and white robes.”

  The man’s eyes widened slightly, and then he shrugged, indifference sliding back into place on his face. “Makes no difference to me if you want to get yourself hurt or killed. But I’m not cleaning up the mess.”

  “Alexa, what are you doing?” Rylan flew down the stairs after me, shooting a look between me and the keeper of the keys.

  “She wants to go see the wailer back there,” he said, throwing a thumb over his shoulder, toward the cells.

  “Damian made us all swear to keep you away from him. You can’t do this — you’ll get us all in trouble, and you’ll make him furious.” Rylan paused. “Although, on second thought, maybe you should go talk to him. See what you can get out of the man. You always were the best at interrogations.”

  I ignored him and gestured for the keeper of the keys to take me to the man’s cell. He lifted a torch out of the bucket, lit it, and strode down the black hallway into the belly of the dungeon. The smell of unwashed bodies, feces, and sweat hit me like a wall, and only grew worse the deeper in we went. Memories of my own time locked down here welled up, but I forced them away. I didn’t have time for distraction.

  “Here you go.” The man handed me a key and gestured at the door in front of him. “Good luck.” And with that, he turned and left, striding back the way he’d come.

  “Alex, do you really —”

  “Wait out here.” I cut Rylan off. “I’ll be fast.”

  Rylan held another lit torch, and in the flickering firelight, his expression was severe. Worry tightened his mouth into a line. “Here, take this so you can at least see what you’re doing.”

  “And leave you in the dark?”

  “Better me than you,” he said. “I don’t trust this man. Something’s off with him.”

  Now that I was here, I was beginning to question the prudence of this idea. But it was too late now. I refused to turn around and walk away. He might have answers. And if there was one thing I needed right now, it was answers. There had been far too many questions for far too long.

  Steeling my courage, I grabbed the torch from Rylan, gave him the key, and pulled out my sword. “Go ahead.” I nodded toward the door.

  He shut his eyes for a moment, and then with a shake of his head, stepped forward and unlocked the door.

  When I stepped into the cell, the first thing I noticed was the chill. It should have been just as hot, if not hotter, in there as in the hallway, but instead, I had to suppress a shiver.

  And then I saw the man, bound to a chair with chains, sitting as tall and proud as ever. One corner of his mouth was swollen and bloody, and his face bore bruises and other marks. Either he had put up a fight before his capture, or he had been interrogated with quite a bit of brutality.

  But his eyes were as clear as could be in the torchlight, and he was looking straight at me. His pupils were abnormally large, making his eyes almost look black, except for a ring of silver where his irises were visible.

  “Alexa, I knew you would come,” he spoke in perfect Antionese, with barely a trace of an accent. “You aren’t the type to let a threat slide past you.”

  “I didn’t come because of your threat,” I lied. “What can you do to hurt any of us? You’re locked in a dungeon.” I turned and put the torch in a bracket on the wall, then faced him once more. “I came for answers.”

  “Never underestimate your enemies, Alexa. That’s always been the first mistake of the conquered.” His voice was soft, but it sent a shudder through me. And where was that blasted cold coming from? My fingers were icy on the hilt of my sword.

  “Are you my enemy? I had hoped that in your present situation, you might change your mind about that.” I stepped toward him, lifting my sword so that it was level with his throat, though not close enough to touch — yet.

  But rather than backing down, he just laughed, a sharp, guttural sound that sent fingers of alarm down my spine.

  “I am not the enemy. Those who block the way to victory are the enemy.”

  “What are you talking about? I want answers, not riddles. Are you talking about Blevon? Is that what Armando is after? Is he using our kingdom to get what he really wants?”

  The man just lifted an eyebrow, looking at me impassively.

  “If you aren’t going to tell me what I need to know, I don’t see any reason to keep you alive.” I tightened my grip on my sword and took another step forward so that my blade was only inches from his skin. “Tell me why Dansii is framing Blevon. Why does your kingdom want us to go to war again?”

  The man remained silent, a slight smile curling his thin lips.

  “Fine. Then tell me this — who are you? What was your relationship with Vera?”

  When I said her name, I finally saw a crack in his calm veneer. A shudder went through his body, and a flame of hatred flared in his eyes. The chill in the room evaporated into blistering heat. But as quickly as the change came, it was gone. The man smoothed his features back into placid indifference, and a waft of icy air encircled us once again.

  So it was him; somehow the coldness was emanating from him. What kind of power did he wield — and how much danger was I in? He was chained to a chair, weaponless, harmless; I was the one holding a sword. And yet, fear itched beneath my skin, urging me to turn and run.

  “You will pay for what you’ve done,” he finally spoke. “You and your king. The destroyers of our most precious masterpieces deserve to suffer and burn. And so you shall. You shall watch your king suffer and die for his crime. For both of your crimes.”

  “Vera was no masterpiece. She was a demon. And don’t you dare threaten Damian.” I strode forward and grabbed his hair, yanking his head back to expose his throat. “I could kill you right now, and no one would care. Your life is nothing to us, unless you prove useful.”

  “Your love is weakness. And it will be your downfall.” He spat at me, even with my blade pressed so hard against his skin that a trickle of blood ran down his throat, staining his white robe.

  “Who are you?” I shouted. “What do you want from us?”

  The fire of hatred burned in his eyes again, and his pupils dilated suddenly, enveloping his irises entirely. I stifled a scream, fighting the urge to jump back; my whole body trembled.

  A gust of wind tore through the cell, and my torch suddenly guttered and went out, leaving us
in darkness.

  “What did y —”

  “You think you know what game you’re playing at, little girl.” His voice was a hiss in the darkness, coming from everywhere, echoing through the cell, in my head, through my body. “But you have no clue. This is so much bigger than you could ever imagine. You or your pathetic lover who calls himself a king. My king, the true king, will crush your kingdom to the ground if that’s what it takes to get what is needed.”

  “Stop it!” I yelled. “Rylan! I need you! Rylan!” I spun in the direction of the door but couldn’t tell if I was even facing the right way, the darkness was so complete.

  “I only allowed myself to be taken to deliver this message to you.” The man’s voice came from directly behind me, a burning whisper that made me scream and whirl around, swinging my sword wildly in the dark. It met nothing but air. My heart raced and I gasped for a breath. He couldn’t be behind me. He was chained to a chair a few feet away.

  “You want to know who I am?” his silky voice came again, this time from in front of me. I lunged forward blindly, only to have my sword hit the wall with a loud ping. I flattened my back against the damp stone, trying to orient myself by staring forward into the impenetrable blackness. Terror gripped my lungs until I could barely breathe.

  “I am Manu de Reich os Deos.” His voice became a roar. “I should kill you and everyone you love right now for the threats you made against me. For taking Vera from me. And I will — you will pay for what you’ve done. But not now. The time has not yet come for your death.”

  His voice grew louder and louder, until my ears ached and my head felt like it would burst.

  “King Armando is the only true king, and he will rain fire and destruction down upon you and all those you love before he’ll let a pathetic, grotesque little girl get in his way. He will take what he needs from you — you will serve your purpose.”

  “Enough!” I screamed, lifting my sword up higher and charging forward. He was there, somewhere. I would shove my blade through him before he could use the power of his voice to frighten me anymore.