Ignite

by Sara B. Larson

THE GROUND BENEATH me was hard and damp as I sat stiffly, staring at the fire in front of me. The flames were mesmerizing, licking at the wood, devouring it in an intoxicating dance of orange and red figures twining together and coming apart with a pop and a hiss. Rafe’s men had taken my sword, my dagger, and my bow and arrows, leaving me unarmed, and tied my arms behind my back. One of them had tossed a thin blanket at me and gruffly said, “Sleep,” in a very heavy Dansiian accent.

  But as exhausted as I was, I had no plans to sleep tonight. Rylan was only a few feet away, also sitting up, his ever-present guards trying to stay awake, their swords lying across their laps. It had been hours since everyone else had gone to rest, except for those on duty.

  “What are you planning?” Rylan asked me at last, his voice quiet.

  I glanced at him, at the shadows and light flickering over his familiar face. He looked at me with clear eyes, but I remembered the emptiness in them all too well — and the command Rafe had given him to stop me if I tried to escape.

  “I don’t know.”

  I wasn’t worried about the guards overhearing us; they obviously spoke only Dansiian. But I hardly dared let myself formulate the thoughts that were in my mind into a plan, let alone speak them out loud. So much could go wrong. Rylan could be killed by his guards. I could be injured. Or worse — I might be forced to hurt my friend, now that Rafe had commanded him to stop me.

  But I had to try.

  I glanced back at the flames. For the fire to live, it had to consume the wood, turn it to nothing more than smoke and ash. But once the fuel was gone, the fire, too, would die. Iker, Hector, even Rafe were all like that fire, burning all the life in their path, destroying everything and everyone in their wake. I could only imagine what King Armando — the man behind it all — was like.

  And when the fuel ran out — what then?

  Rafe’s words from earlier today, his confidence that Dansii had more power than any of us realized, sparked a stab of fear inside of me once more.

  I finally lowered my body to the ground, feigning sleep. Even if I hadn’t been planning an escape, there was no way I would have been able to relax enough with the fire so close, coating my body in its heat, adding to the oppressively humid night. With my arms bound behind me, I wasn’t able to get comfortable, but that wasn’t my goal. Laboriously, I rolled over, turning my back on the fire, facing the darkness instead.

  One of the men murmured something in Dansiian, and the others laughed. I ignored them. They wouldn’t be laughing soon.

  The entire back side of my body burned from the heat of the fire, from the thick, wet air of the jungle pressing in on me, even in the dead of night. In the distance, a bird screeched. It was almost enough. My hands were beginning to grow damp. Soon, they’d be sweaty. Wet and slippery. The man who’d tied my arms back hadn’t done a great job of it — he’d been distracted by my fake attempt at struggling. I hadn’t really been trying to escape, only to keep him from being able to get the ropes too tight. That plus the fact that I’d been flexing the tendons in my wrists when he’d done it, gave me about an inch of wiggle room.

  With some struggle, I would be able to slip my hands free eventually, if my skin grew slick enough.

  “Alexa, are you still awake?” Rylan whispered suddenly in the darkness. “I — I didn’t know…. I don’t … I don’t even remember talking to him. I don’t know why he can order me to do things without even looking into my eyes.”

  I didn’t respond, still pretending to sleep. Part of me wanted to tell him it was all right, but even if my plan didn’t hinge on the guards believing I was no longer awake, I wasn’t sure I could have said the words. I was still reeling from the shock of his betrayal, even if it wasn’t his fault.

  When had Rafe spoken to him alone? He must have also commanded him to forget the conversation. I refused to believe that Rylan had willfully kept it a secret from me.

  “Alexa?” His voice was quieter now, mournful. “I’m sorry,” he whispered when I still didn’t respond. “I’m so sorry.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut even harder, tightening the muscles in my jaw to keep from responding.

  How had it come to this? Rylan and I, both under Rafe’s control, trapped. Jax, wandering through the jungle, ill and weak, trying to find his way back to the palace, where Damian was surely awake, pacing his room, anxious and unable to sleep until I fulfilled my promise to return to him.

  It was that image — the thought of my king, my betrothed, waiting for me, fearing the worst, trying not to let the terror that yet another person he loved would be taken from him swallow him whole — that drove my own fear to the back of my mind.

  I loved Rylan and I didn’t want to leave him — but Damian had my heart. I would escape now to return to my king, and then I would come back for Rylan. As soon as possible.

  My mind raced, and the anticipation of a fight warred with the exhaustion that weighed my limbs down. The heat of the fire pressed in on me; perspiration dripped down my spine and coated my skin with moisture. It was now or never. The guards might never drift off, or new ones could come to relieve them. There was no point in waiting any longer. I would either survive this or I would die trying.

  If only you could hear my thoughts. If only there was some way to tell you how much I love you, in case this goes badly. As I began to slowly inch my hands back and forth, wriggling them loose from the bindings, I pictured Damian as he’d looked only a few hours ago, when he’d held me in his arms, the sunlight glinting off the signet crown in his dark hair, his fiery blue eyes full of love — impossibly, for me.

  Time seemed to slow to a crawl as I fought to free myself with as little movement as possible. It would be too easy for a guard to notice my hands moving if any of them looked down at me. Pretending to moan in my sleep a little, I made a show of turning my head jerkily, then rolled over once more, as though I were having a bad dream. This time, I stopped with my hands partially beneath me. Now I could work them out of their binding quicker, out of their sight. But I had to hurry, before the sweat dried or absorbed into my clothes and the damp soil beneath me.

  The rope burned, chafing my skin as I pulled as hard as I dared. An instinct that I’d long ago learned to trust warned me that time was running out. I heard one of them say something softly in Dansiian. No one else responded, but it made my heartbeat kick up another notch in my chest. Tossing my head side to side, as though assailed by a nightmare, to distract from any motion visible from my arms, I yanked even harder. Pain exploded along my hands where my skin tore open. But the added slickness of the blood was the final boost I needed. Finally, finally, my right hand slid free. I quickly pulled the rope off my left hand as well.

  Tensing, I opened my eyes to a slit. One guard had nodded off, the closest to Rylan. The others were drowsy but still awake.

  Please, let this work.

  With a deep intake of breath, I squeezed my eyes completely shut once more. Damian, I love you. No matter what happens, I hope you always remember that.

  And then I burst off the ground, lunging for the sword lying on the lap of the guard closest to me.

  HE DIDN’T HAVE time to react before I’d grabbed the hilt of his sword and quickly slashed it up through the air. He fell back, dead, the blade of his sword coated with his own blood before he even had time to blink. I couldn’t spare time on the way my stomach twisted — I had no choice but to kill them, or they’d kill Rylan.

  The other two men had jumped up, and one was lunging at Rylan, who was unarmed, the Dansiian’s sword aimed at my friend’s heart. I leaped forward, bringing my blade up to stop him with a clang of metal on metal. I cringed at the sound breaking through the blanketed hush of night. Rylan sat perfectly still as I fought for his life, the blood on my hands making my grip slippery.

  The second guard rushed forward, arcing his sword through the air toward my head. I ducked, simultaneously spinning, my movement so quick the first guard couldn’t block me before my blade sank into his side, b
iting through skin, muscle, and more. He dropped to the ground as I pulled my sword free and brought it up just in time to parry a blow aimed at my neck, with a jarring impact of the second guard’s blade on mine. I thought Rafe didn’t want me dead. Apparently, these men had missed his instructions.

  He twisted, lunging at my side this time, but I spun away, whipping my sword around and managing to slice into his arm before he jumped back out of my reach. I rushed forward, pressing my advantage, feigning right, and then, when he took the bait, whirled to the left, embedding my sword. In and out. Another killing strike.

  He dropped to the ground beside his fellow guard.

  The entire thing was over in less than a minute. Breathing hard, I closed my eyes briefly, but then I heard a sound behind me, and I spun around to see Rylan standing now, holding a sword in his hands, his eyes blank.

  “We can’t leave this camp. You killed all of them. I can’t let you go.” His voice was devoid of emotion. My friend was gone, and in his place stood Rafe’s puppet.

  A puppet very skilled with a sword.

  “I don’t want to fight you,” I said, even as I tightened my grip on the hilt of my sword once again. “Rylan, I know you have to be in there somewhere. You don’t want to do this. Please …”

  Instead of responding, his eyes narrowed and he sank into his fighting stance, lifting his blade.

  I heard a voice somewhere deeper in the camp, and my heart rate ratcheted up, pounding a desperate cadence beneath my ribs. The sounds of the fight had woken others — possibly even Rafe. I had no time. But the only way to fight fast was to kill, and I couldn’t kill Rylan.

  He circled to my left and then lunged forward. I automatically brought up my sword to parry his attack. The sounds of our blades echoed through the night, too loud.

  I had to knock him out — or incapacitate him without making him useless to Rafe. I looked for any opening as he lunged and spun and attacked again and again. I twisted and parried and grew more desperate by the second, dancing farther and farther from the camp, leading Rylan toward the darkness and away from Rafe’s men. More voices shouted in the darkness. They were coming. And then I would never escape.

  Tears burned in my throat like acid as I swallowed my love for Rylan and forced myself to attack him harder than I ever had before. I’d never let myself fight him full out with real blades, because I’d cared about him. But now I had no choice.

  I was no sorcerer, but some thrill of magic seemed to flow in my blood — an echo of the power my father had wielded. I was his zhànshì nánwu¯. And I had to defeat my friend right now to save us all — including him.

  Right, left, right, faster and faster, until there was nothing except the darkness, the clang of metal on metal, the heat of the jungle, and the pulse of blood roaring through my body. And then he stumbled — only a slight bobble of his control, but it was the opening I’d needed. And not a moment too soon, because on the other side of the fire, three more men were rushing toward us, even as I led us deeper into the jungle and away from the camp.

  With a savage cry — a cry of fury, of frustration and agony — I drove my sword forward, into my friend’s thigh, just above his knee to the side of where his artery ran. With proper care, he wouldn’t die. But he would always limp.

  Rylan’s empty eyes widened in shock, and his sword faltered as his leg gave out and he stumbled back, nearly falling to the ground.

  “I’m sorry,” I choked out. And then I turned and ran.

  “Stop her!” I heard the shout — Rafe’s shout — but he was too late. The jungle welcomed me with thick, dark arms, swallowing me into the depths of black night. Tears as hot as the guilt and anguish in my chest burned as they streaked down my face.

  I heard the sounds of pursuit behind me, but I refused to let them catch me now. I ran and ran, branches and leaves and vines grabbing at me, tearing at my hair, my face, slashing the tears off my skin with vicious fingers.

  They would save him. They had to save him, or I’d have no reason to go after them. Rafe would know that — he’d know he had to use Rylan to get at me.

  After what felt like hours of running, the sounds of pursuit disappeared, until there was only my own harsh breathing and the noise of the jungle — the cry of birds startled out of sleep, of monkeys howling their outrage at the moon, of insects humming to life once more as the black sky melted into gray. And still I ran. My legs burned, my eyes burned as the blood on my hands dried. There was even more blood on my soul now, but I had escaped. I had escaped.

  And then, just as the corners of the eastern sky began to streak blue with the oncoming dawn, the wall surrounding the palace soared out of the never-ending green canopy in front of me.

  Someone stood atop the wall, staring out at the jungle. At first glance, I thought it was only the usual watchman — but something caught my eye as I burst out of the jungle, into the clearing before the massive gate. His head turned down to where I stood, and I saw him stiffen. His dark hair blew in the wind that rustled through the trees, touched my face and my bloodstained hands. His mouth opened, and I could see my name on his lips as our eyes met, but his shout was torn away by the force of the wind. He turned and ran for the stairs that would take him off the wall, back to the ground where I stood.

  With a strangled cry, I stumbled forward toward the door that would bring me back to him, just as I’d promised.

  I’d barely lifted my hand when the massive door began to grind open, and then Damian was there. He crushed me to him, his arms wrapped around me, holding me up. The sobs I could no longer hold back tore through me, and I clung to him, my bloody, battered fingers clenched in the folds of his tunic.

  “You came back,” he whispered, one hand stroking my tangled hair. “You came back to me.”

  The image of Rylan’s eyes widening, my sword slicing through his leg, of his blood coating my blade burned in my mind, and I shuddered. “I promised I would,” I managed to choke out.

  Damian pulled away slightly, lifting his hands to cup my face, his eyes brilliant and sharp in the growing light of a new day. “But at what price?” he murmured as he stared down at me.

  I shook my head, unable to tell him. Soon. Soon I would tell him everything. About the man in the dungeons, what I’d done to Rylan — and what had happened in the jungle. What Rafe had said about Dansii’s power and Blevon’s secrets and their plan to crush us all. But not now.

  “Jax?” I asked, hardly daring to hope.

  “He’s with Lisbet; she’s already begun to heal him. The man who brought him is in the dungeons.”

  Relief made my legs weak, and I sagged forward into Damian again. He wrapped an arm around me, holding me to him. “He’s going to be all right, then?”

  “Yes, he’ll be just fine.” Damian pressed a kiss to my temple and drew back just enough to look into my face again. “You did it. You saved him and you came back.” He smiled at me, his eyes bright with hope and happiness.

  But I could do nothing except stare into his beautiful face, my stomach churning. He didn’t know I’d returned to him broken, under Rafe’s control, and that I’d —

  “Where is Rylan?” he suddenly asked, glancing past me into the jungle.

  I met his questioning gaze, and my throat constricted.

  “Alexa — where is he? What happened?” Concern and an underlying thread of shock strained his voice.

  “I … I …” How much did I tell him? What would he do if he knew the truth — the whole truth?

  “Is he —”

  “No.” I cut him off, not even wanting him to speak the words out loud. Rylan had to be alive. He had to be. “He’s alive. But he’s hurt. I … I had to fight him to escape. He’s … Rafe …”

  “Oh, Alexa.” Damian’s arms tightened around me. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I — I didn’t have a choice….”

  “We’ll go after him, of course — we won’t let Rafe hurt him anymore. Now that I have you and Jax back, there’s nothing
stopping us from sending the army after him. And I’ll let you have the pleasure of disposing of him however you please, my warrior bride-to-be.” He reached up to softly touch my cheek. His finger came away stained red, and I wondered how bad I must look. Cut, dirty, bloody, half out of my mind with guilt.

  And Damian didn’t know — I could never do what he’d offered. I could never hurt Rafe. He’d made sure of it.

  Did I tell Damian now?

  “Come on, let’s go into the palace. I’ll ring for a hot bath and some clean clothes for you.” Damian turned me toward the palace, guiding me away from the jungle. “I’ll send our best men out to find Rylan. We’ll get him back — I promise.”

  “No, you can’t. Don’t send any more men. They’ll die. Everyone is going to die. Rafe has control over Rylan! If more men come after him, I don’t know … I don’t know what he’ll …” Hysteria built up in my chest, constricting my throat until I couldn’t get the words past the knot of terror that choked me.

  “Okay, okay.” Damian’s eyes widened, and his voice took on a soothing tone. “I won’t send any men right now. It’s all right. Ssh …” He stroked my hair, his touch slowly pushing the sudden anxiety back down. “For now let’s just get you to your bed, so you can rest and heal. Then we’ll make a plan to save Rylan. All right?”

  “Fine.” I tried to catch my breath, to force myself to calm down. There was nothing we could do right this minute. I could only pray Rafe would keep Rylan alive long enough for me to be able to think clearly again — to be able to figure out a solution to this mess. I needed to tell Damian the truth. He needed to know everything. But not now. Not with the panic only a hairsbreadth from consuming me. I could tell him later, after I’d rested — after I was back in control of myself — I reasoned as I let him lead me toward the palace. When I wasn’t covered in blood and dirt.

  Just before we walked through the gate, Damian stopped and looked down at me again. He lifted one hand to gently tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. His thumb trailed down my jaw, sending a shiver of want through me, despite all the worries and pain crowding my heart.