by Jordan Rivet
When the last shouts faded away, Sora raised the horn to her lips again. “My people. You will not be going alone into the Lands Below. You are brave, and your swords will swing true, but you carry with you an even greater weapon. For the first time in living memory, you will bring Vertigon’s greatest power into the Lands Below. You will take our strength, once used only for production, for trade, for practicality, and you will achieve glory unlike anything the continent has seen before. Today, you carry our Fire into the world.”
Murmurs spread through the crowd, nervous and eager in equal measures. Jully had told her rumors were rife about this aspect of the planned campaign. Today was the first time everyone would see it.
“Rafe Ruminor, our Fire Warden and Chief Regent, will accompany you to Trure. He and his Fireworker colleagues will fight beside you using their own weapons, Weapons of Fire, weapons that will make the armies of Soole tremble before you. Together, you will show the world what Vertigon can do.”
Sora pointed toward Fell Bridge, which spanned Orchard Gorge at the opposite side of the square. Eight Fireworkers had quietly gathered there during her speech. The soldiers turned as one to face them, the thud of their boots echoing over the mountain. The Fireworkers stood shoulder to shoulder and raised their hands.
Gasps rippled through the crowd as two massive structures rose from the gorge, carried on cords of Fire. The soldiers stepped back as the structures floated forward and landed heavily on the cobblestones.
Assault catapults. Sora had only seen them in pictures. The ungainly instruments of war were little use on the steep slopes of Vertigon, but the catapults would perform well on the flat plains of Trure. They would help the army take Rallion City back from Soole—and that was only the beginning. Each catapult was loaded with a white-hot ball of concentrated Fire.
The Fireworkers didn’t wait for Sora’s nod of approval. They released the catches on the weapons, and the fiery balls soared through the air, arcing over the soldiers’ heads as if they were twin comets. Sounds of awe and fear rose from the assembly, drowning out the hiss of the Fireballs’ passage.
The fiery spheres landed on the bare rooftop behind Sora and exploded. Droplets of Fire splattered across the roof. The Fireworkers had figured out how to condense the Fire so the Fireballs would be hot enough to cause serious damage when they struck their targets. The droplets of Fire would cling, melt, burn, destroy.
The glow of power spread, consuming the building. Sora didn’t move as the rooftop melted behind her. The people would see their queen silhouetted in a glorious halo of Fire. Shocked silence greeted the display as the onlookers realized one by one that these were not ordinary lumps of Fire. Nothing could dowse these flames. Nothing could stop the army that wielded them.
That was when the cheers began.
The people clapped, shouted, stomped their feet. Eyes brightened as the truth dawned. With these Fire Weapons, this would be no ordinary war. From her post atop the burning building, Sora witnessed the exact moment when the Vertigonians realized they were going to win.
The roof shuddered, on the verge of collapse, but she had to stay. She had to see.
The Fireworkers on the bridge let loose a second type of Fire Weapon, spools similar to decorative Fireblossoms that would spin directly into an enemy’s body. The Workers used straw dummies placed along the bridges to show the effects. The straw men exploded one after another in a shower of sparks, flames, and ash. Sora could only imagine what that would look like if the bodies were made of flesh.
The cheers grew louder, more frenzied. Soon, the soldiers and spectators were chanting.
“Vertigon! Vertigon! Vertigon!”
“Long live Queen Sora!”
Sora stood above them, listening to their adulation as the Fire blazed across the rooftop behind her. Bits of burning straw floated on the breeze like fireflies. Smoke thickened over Orchard Gorge. She knew she should feel horrified, but the cheers rippled through her, warming her like Firetears. The Vertigonians were going to achieve glory unlike anything the continent had ever seen. And they would do it shouting her name.
The demonstration finished with an eruption of fiery razors whirling from the Fireworkers’ hands and spinning into the sky like stars. The people ooed and ahhed as if they were at a festival. They must know that with these weapons, the armies of Vertigon would be unstoppable. Soole, Trure, even Pendark itself would never stand against them.
Sora made her exit while the final spectacle drew the attention of the crowds. She crossed the burning rooftop between the pools of Fire eating holes in the stone and descended through the house. On the ground floor, Lady Zurren was watching the smoking holes in her ceiling with a sour expression on her hawkish face. The Zurrens had eagerly offered their greathouse for the demonstration. No doubt they believed this would solidify their status as the Ruminors’ favorite noble family.
Lady Zurren seized Sora’s arm as she left the burning house.
“Are you sure about this, my queen?”
“What?”
“Invading the Lands Below with Fire Weapons . . . putting all those young men at risk.” Lady Zurren glanced around to make sure no one could hear. “I wonder if it’s really necessary.”
“It’s not necessary,” Sora said, “but the soldiers won’t be in too much danger with the Fireworkers on their side.”
“But, my queen, perhaps you could—”
Lima appeared in the doorway, and Lady Zurren immediately fell silent. Naked fear flitted across her face for the briefest instant. So her loyalty to the Ruminors didn’t run as deep as it appeared.
“Hurry,” Lima said. “The roof will not hold long. You are not yet finished.”
Sora followed her out, avoiding Lady Zurren’s eyes as they left the burning greathouse together.
Sparks were falling outside from the Fireworkers’ display. Sora hoped the fiery remnants wouldn’t damage the orchards filling the slopes beneath the bridges. They needed the sustenance the trees provided more than they needed dominion over the Lands Below. But she couldn’t help thinking that it was useless to worry. They may defeat the Soolen invaders of Trure. They may take new land for themselves. They may grow stronger. But the Peace had been destroyed. Vertigon was dying.
And still, the sounds of the cheers sang through her.
Sora offered a final exhortation from the steps of the greathouse. She repeated the words exactly as Lima had given them to her.
“This is but a taste of the Fire Weapons our Chief Regent has worked so hard to develop. The Lands Below will not stand against Lantern Maker Ruminor’s power. They have no magic and no strength to rival ours. It is time to take our rightful place for the glory of Vertigon. Farewell, and may your bravery carry you home again.”
The soldiers cheered, shouting Sora’s name to the heavens, making the citadel shudder with the power of their voices. They had seen the truth. The Fire Weapons would make them unstoppable.
On General Pavorran’s order, they began the long march down the slopes of Vertigon. The invasion of the Lands Below had begun.
Sora felt as if she were carved from marble when she returned to her tower bedroom. Warmth from the repaired Fire Gate filled the room, but she didn’t bother to remove her cloak. She had made a terrible mistake. She had encouraged Rafe to focus on his projects so he’d be less dangerous to those around him. And now she’d seen the results of that focused work. The moment she’d decided keeping the peace was more important than removing the Ruminors from power, they had triumphed.
She wished she felt something besides this terrible numbness.
The door flew open. Sora spun around as Kel strode in, the door banging shut behind him. His hair stood on end, and a reckless intensity shone in his eyes.
“What’s wr—?”
Kel swept her into his arms and kissed her. It was so unexpected that she stood utterly still for a few frantic heartbeats before throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him back. Her numbness receded,
if only a little.
He set her back on her feet.
“Let me take you away from here.”
“What?”
“You refused before, but you can’t stay here any longer.”
“If I hadn’t stayed, the people would have tried to attack the Lantern Maker, and he would have—”
“I know.” He put a hand on her cheek, brushing a finger over her lip where it had split the very last time Lima hit her. “You were right, but it’s different now. You’ve become the Ruminors’ weapon. Please let me save you from that.”
Sora disentangled herself from Kel’s arms and stepped back. “Their weapon?”
“You saw the way that crowd was cheering. The Ruminors pointed you like a blasted Fire Arrow, and the people followed. You’re playing into their hands.” Kel glanced back at the door. “Oat and the others agree with me.”
Sora folded her arms. “Do they.”
“You’ve done a great job of keeping everyone calm,” Kel said. “Maybe it’s time to let things fall apart a little bit.”
“It isn’t that simple,” Sora said. It didn’t matter that she had been lamenting the way she’d helped the Ruminors moments ago. She walked a razor’s edge. And there were other people involved besides her.
“They’re taking advantage of your popularity to get you to—”
“Commander Brach has my family,” Sora cut in. “Don’t forget that. Maybe I’d have pointed my armies to the Lands Below even without the Ruminors. I’d take the Fire Weapons all the way to the Soolen peninsula if that’s what it takes to save them.”
Kel walked toward to her, voice softening. “I know you’re worried about them. But we all want what’s best for the kingdom, Sora.”
She winced at the way her name on his lips sent a warm rush through her. She wished her numbness would return. She didn’t want Kel to whisper sweet nothings in her ear. Did he think to manipulate her, to take advantage of her affections to get his way? She’d had enough of that.
“Why are you here, if Oat and the others agree with you so much?” she demanded. “Did you think a kiss would convince me to abandon my duty?”
Kel halted, staring at her as if she’d slapped him. Then he reached a hand toward her face. “In all fairness, last time, you kissed—”
“Stop,” Sora said. “Please don’t.” She turned her back on him. Why hadn’t she seen it sooner? Kel and the others had probably gotten together to figure out how to convince her to do what they wanted all along. All those hand touches and secret glances. Had Kel really instigated those, or had they decided to make use of the fact that she kept making eyes at the handsome dueling heartthrob?
Kel’s footsteps tapped out a question on the floor as he moved closer to her.
“Please hear me out,” he said softly.
Sora whirled around, the hem of her skirt brushing over the toes of his boots.
“I bet you’d prefer it if I ran off, wouldn’t you?” she said. “Then you wouldn’t have to worry about me anymore. You could join the army like the rest of the duelists, go fight for glory, and forget you ever met an Amintelle.”
“I could never forget you,” Kel said. “But I can’t stand by while they use you to start a war.”
“Please don’t tell me how to run my kingdom.”
Kel blinked. “I’m not. Let me take you away from here. I’ll make it so you never have to frown into your notes or tug on your hair or hide your tears anymore. You deserve better than this.”
Sora couldn’t stop the tears from forming. She wished it were that simple.
“Where would we go?”
“We could cross the Bell Sea,” Kel said. “Or even the Ammlen Ocean. We could visit the East Isles and do nothing but eat exotic fruits and lie on the beach. You could read, and I could snooze. No one would ever know who we used to be.”
“I can’t,” Sora said softly. She put a hand on his cheek. “We still have a chance to work against them from the inside. Captain Thrashe will help us for sure now that they’re moving against his people. Maybe he can—”
“Captain Thrashe is dead.”
“What?”
Kel’s shoulders slumped, and he took a few steps away from her. “I’m sorry. That’s why I ran straight here. The Ruminors brought Captain Thrashe and the remaining Soolen swordsmen out to Thunderbird Square after you left. They executed them all.”
“Just now?”
“Madame Ruminor announced that Thrashe’s men killed your father and brother. I think they did it to convince any remaining holdouts of the justification for moving against the Soolen army. And to send a message to anyone who was thinking of transferring their allegiance to you.”
Sora’s allies were falling left and right. Who would be next? Berg Doban? Jully Roven? Kel himself? How much more could she take? Mercifully, numbness flooded her body once more.
“You think they realized Captain Thrashe was becoming loyal to me?”
Kel inclined his head. “Thrashe’s men have expressed their admiration of you. I’ve encouraged it whenever I could. Someone must have given them—us away.”
Sora noticed anew that Kel’s hair stood on end. He’d run in here hoping to sweep her away, hoping to flee at last. He had just seen the executions of men he’d lived and worked with over the past few months, men he himself had tried to turn to her side. He had been in danger every single day since he stopped Lima from hurting her. She didn’t truly think he was manipulating her with his affection—but that didn’t mean she could walk away. Not even with him.
“I’m not leaving,” she said. “But you should. They’ll come for you next.”
Kel searched her face for a moment. He didn’t deny her assertion.
“I heard the soldiers talking,” he said. “They are absolutely rabid in their support of you. ‘Long live Queen Sora, the First Great Queen.’ Before you know it, they’ll be calling you Empress.”
Sora stared at him. Empress? The First Great Queen. She was almost afraid to admit that she liked the sound of that. An empress didn’t rule a single nation. She ruled lands. She sent magic wielders to do her bidding. The idea curled through her, tantalizing, seductive. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t care that she was becoming so popular. She could be stronger than her brother or father had ever been.
“What’s your point?” she said hoarsely.
“The Ruminors started a war with a queen,” Kel said. “What do you think they’ll do with an empress? I can’t leave you to that fate.”
Sora looked away, fiddling with the edge of her ash-gray cloak. She didn’t see it quite the way Kel did. The Lantern Maker may be using her, but couldn’t she use him as well, him and his power? The people looked to her more than him. And thanks to these new Fire Weapons, she was on the verge of becoming more than a queen. The Lands Below wouldn’t stand a chance against them. How could she walk away now?
She met Kel’s eyes. “You should go.”
He shook his head. “I pledged my life to you. Let me take—”
“I wouldn’t want to leave with you anyway,” she lied. “I can release you from your pledge.”
“No, Your Majesty. It doesn’t work like that.” The formality of Kel’s tone made Sora feel as if her insides were breaking to pieces.
“Maybe it’s best we don’t see each other alone anymore.” The Ruminors knew Kel was on her side. They would use him to control her, even if he didn’t try to do it himself. A queen couldn’t allow herself such weaknesses. Not in a time of war. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
Kel offered her a polite bow, not quite quick enough to hide the hurt scouring his face.
“Very well. Will that be all, Your Majesty?”
“I’ll call if I need you.”
Kel returned to his post outside her door, his casual saunter missing. She wished she could have been less cold after he offered to throw everything away for her. But it was better this way. They should never have allowed themselves to get this c
lose.
23.
Messages
SELIVIA and Zala climbed the winding staircase up the side of the Rock. Their destination was only halfway up the side, but it felt much higher. Selivia’s legs shook as she looked back down the steep pathway. The Sunset City spread below her like a quilt. A very small and faraway quilt.
“Almost there,” Zala said.
“I’m not tired.” Selivia clutched the steps in front of her, scrambling up like a kitten. “Or s-scared.”
“Only a few more steps.”
Zala meant to be soothing, but Selivia couldn’t bring herself to thank her. Things had been different between them since the night she met the true dragon. Zala had intended to betray the promise she made to Selivia’s mother and use her as a hostage. Not even her excitement over the dragon could quite temper the feeling that she had been used.
They reached a flat plane at last. Selivia flattened herself on the ledge and looked back. The path was so steep that she couldn’t see parts of it below. Other ledges poked out here and there, interrupting the steep cliff face. The desert stretched out past the city. Rocks, brush, and sand merged together into one shimmering, sunlit sea.
The wind howled, strong and swift against the side of the Rock. They had climbed to where the Air Sensors communed with their ethereal power. A larger concentration of Air flowed up here, and Selivia suspected it issued from the ancient Rock itself.
The Air Sensors themselves sat cross-legged on the bare stone ledge, swaying gently in the wind. Ananova was among them, along with several familiar faces, Sensors who had cornered Selivia to hint at the Air’s plans for her. She wondered if they’d ever heard from the Air at all, or if they were trying to figure out if she was the “child of fire and rain” who was supposed to help them with their little dragon problem. It would have been so much easier if they’d just talked to her about it. On the other hand, they didn’t agree with each other about their interpretations of the Air, the old song, or even whether any of it was connected to current events at all. She didn’t know how anyone got anything done around here.