A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  The Ascended grew very still as the hairs on the back of my neck rose. “Are you suggesting that I’m a coward?”

  “You said it.” Elijah unfolded his arms. “Not me.”

  Casteel tugged my eyes back to his as he reached for his boot with his other hand. “I wish you’d never had to see any of this.”

  He didn’t give me a chance to respond. Rising so quickly, he was already near the edge of the trees in the blink of an eye.

  It took me a moment to realize that the space where he’d knelt beside me wasn’t entirely empty.

  Lying on a cushion of dead leaves and snow was a blade the color of blood, and a handle made of smooth, ivory bone. A wolven dagger—my wolven dagger.

  Slowly, I picked it up with a trembling hand, the weight familiar and welcomed. I looked to where Casteel moved like a shadow between the trees. How long had he had it with him, and why had he given it back to me now?

  Because bloodstone could kill an Ascended.

  He’d left me with a weapon that I could use in case the Ascended made it to me.

  “You’re looking for the Maiden?” Casteel called out, and the Lord spun around. Several of the knights flanked him.

  Chaney tilted his head as Casteel walked into the clearing. “Who in the hell are you?”

  “Who am I?” Casteel chuckled as if this were all a joke to him. “Who do you think I am?”

  Rising slowly, I pressed against the base of a tree before moving around it. I stopped when I saw a flash of fawn-colored fur from the area of the stables. Kieran. He slunk along the side of the building, disappearing into its shadows.

  “I don’t know,” Chaney replied. “But I’m hoping you’re someone who can answer my question. I would hate to see such a young life cut short.”

  My fingers tightened around the bone handle of my weapon as I crept forward once more, my gaze swinging toward the knight. Could I get behind him before anyone saw me? Before Lord Chaney gave the go-ahead, and another life was ended? All it would take is one nod, and that child’s life would be over.

  The soft crunch of dried leaves whipped my head to the right. A large white wolven brushed against the tree I’d just been hiding behind, nearly blending in with the snow.

  A sudden memory surfaced—of me lying in the cell after the attack Jericho had led, bleeding out. A wolven with white fur had nudged my cheek and then howled. I’d thought it was Kieran, but it had been this wolf.

  It had been Delano.

  He looked at me, his pale blue eyes bright against the tufts of white fur. He made a soft chuffing sound as he drifted over to where I stood. His head reached beyond my hip, and I had the strangest urge to reach down and scratch his ear. I resisted, though. It didn’t seem appropriate.

  Casteel stopped in the middle of the yard, his arms at his sides. “I can answer your question. The Maiden is here.”

  That stopped me dead in my tracks.

  “Is she?” Lord Chaney clapped his hands as he looked around the yard, to those lined up. “Now, how hard was that? I asked a question, and I received an answer.”

  “You should ask how he knows that the Maiden is here,” Elijah said with a chuckle, and I saw Magda take a small step back.

  Well aware of Delano at my heels, I moved forward as Lord Chaney stared at Casteel. I reached the last of the trees, stopping when Chaney demanded quietly, “You didn’t say who you were. You going to answer that?”

  “I am born of the first kingdom.” Casteel’s voice carried like the wind and snow, stroking over the knights, who all turned, one by one, to look in his direction. “Created from the blood and ash of all those who fell before me. I have risen to take back what is mine. I’m who you call the Dark One,” he said, and chills danced across my skin. “Yes, I have the Maiden, and I’m not giving her back.”

  Lord Chaney changed.

  Gone was the veneer of civility. His face contorted, cheekbones sharpening as his jaw dropped open. Those eyes burned like coal—like a Craven’s. I stumbled back, bumping into Delano as I saw—

  I saw the truth once more.

  The Ascended bared his fangs as he hissed like a large serpent, dropping into a crouch.

  “Mine are bigger than yours,” Casteel responded in turn, prowling forward.

  Then the knights changed, at least half of them, exposing elongated canines as their lips peeled back. It felt like the ground moved under my feet, even though the entire world seemed to stop. There were Ascended among the Royal Army. That…that was unheard of. Only the Royals Ascended. That was what we’d been told—

  And that was another lie, another fact exposed to everyone who stood here now. I immediately knew yet another truth. The Ascended didn’t intend for anyone to leave the yard alive tonight.

  Chapter 15

  It was…it was chaos.

  Half of the knights charged Casteel, and the others turned on the ones lined up—

  Elijah snagged the arm of a knight who’d lifted a sword, smashing his closed fist down. The crack of bone drew a howl of pain as Elijah caught the sword and turned it on the guard. The sword was bloodstone, and it did what was intended, piercing the black armor and sinking deep into the knight’s chest. Elijah pulled the blade free, and I expected to see the knight fall, just like a Craven, as Elijah spun, his sword clanging off another. There were shouts of pain and a godsawful hissing noise, but I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the knight.

  He didn’t simply fall like a Craven would. Fissures appeared along his cheeks, spreading across his face and down his neck, forming a web of fractures that disappeared under the clothing and armor. His skin…cracked.

  Strips of flesh peeled back and flaked off, shattering into dust that was caught on and swept away by the wind. Within seconds, nothing remained of the knight but the clothing and armor he’d once worn, left in a pile on the ground.

  The Craven didn’t die like that. Their bodies remained whole. That hadn’t happened to the Duke, but he’d been killed with a cane fashioned from a tree from the Blood Forest. And that hadn’t happened when I killed Lord Mazeen, but the blade was made of steel. Not bloodstone.

  My gaze fell to my wolven dagger. That…that was what bloodstone did to an Ascended?

  For a few very precious seconds, I was frozen where I stood, my gaze sweeping across the yard, over the clash of swords and bodies, over the blood splattering the snow.

  The knights…they weren’t just fighting the Descenters. They were attacking them. Many still had their swords in their scabbards. Their weapons were their fangs and their strength. They overpowered the mortals among the people of the keep almost immediately, faces twisted in snarls, fangs gleaming in the moonlight. They flew at them, jumping on some, driving them down to the ground like…like a Craven would. My knees felt strangely weak as I stood there.

  Bloodlust.

  Maybe they didn’t screech like the Craven or appear decayed and half dead, but what I was seeing was clearly bloodlust.

  Any lingering doubt I had about everything Casteel had claimed nearly vanished when I saw the chamber. But now, there was none. This was what the Ascended truly looked like, and I had never seen anything more terrifying.

  Naill appeared. From where, I wasn’t sure. He grabbed a knight by the nape of the neck, tearing him free from a man. He shoved a short sword through the knight’s back, but it appeared to be too late for the man. He fell to the ground, his throat a mangled mess.

  Delano suddenly rushed past me, jarring me from my stupor. With one powerful lunge, he took down a knight that had grabbed hold of a woman, his face buried in her neck—his teeth in her throat. The woman staggered a few feet, pressing her hand to the wound.

  Blinking, I turned and saw Casteel shove a sword into a knight’s chest and then spin, leaving the sword there. He grabbed the back of another knight’s head, yanking it back. The Ascended’s head dropped, and Casteel…

  Air leaked out of my parted lips.

  He tore through the knight’s neck, rippin
g it open. Tossing the man aside, he spat out the blood as he grabbed the sword from the other’s chest, pulling it free a second before the knight turned to ash.

  I scanned the yard, no longer seeing Lord Chaney, but I did see a knight backing up—the one who held the child. He used the boy as a shield, keeping the sword under the young one’s chin.

  The wolven dagger practically vibrated in my hand, and I was finally moving. Instinct crowded out the horror, and it was like being on the Rise or recently when I’d faced the Craven. A sense of focus and calm settled over me as I darted into the yard, running for the carriage. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kieran leap upon a knight that had Elijah’s back pinned against the stone wall of the keep. He grabbed the knight in his powerful wolven jaws, flinging him to the ground. Magda appeared, thrusting one of the bloodstone swords down.

  I slowed as I moved along the back of the carriage, stopping at the edge. Peering around it, I saw the knight dragging the now-struggling boy toward the stables, a thick arm around his neck. In the moonlight, the child’s wide, panicked eyes met mine a moment before the knight turned away.

  “Keep fighting,” the knight growled. “That really gets the blood pumping.”

  The child was no longer a shield.

  He was food.

  Fury pumped my blood as I slipped out from behind the carriage, crossing the distance between us as I flipped the heavy-handled dagger so I held it by its blade—just like Vikter had taught me.

  The knight turned suddenly, dragging the boy around as if he were nothing more than a rag doll. He lifted the sword as his gaze, reddish black in the moonlight, flickered over me—over my face. The scars. His eyes widened in recognition. He knew who I was. His arm loosened, dropping a fraction as he lowered the sword.

  I saw my chance.

  I took it.

  The dagger flew from my fingers, spinning through the air. The blade struck true, slicing through the knight’s eye and embedding itself deep in his brain. His hand spasmed open, releasing the sword. It fell to the ground as tiny cracks in his flesh appeared, racing across his skin. They were thin but deep, and when he broke apart, it was almost as if he caved into himself.

  “Damn,” the little boy said, eyes wide. He turned, bending to pick up the dagger from the armor. He handed it to me. “You got him! You got him right in the eye! How did you do that? Will you show me?”

  Relieved to see that the child wasn’t remotely traumatized, my lips twitched. “Maybe—”

  “A two for one special?” a voice sounded from behind us. “Perfect.”

  “Run and hide,” I told the boy, shoving him away. Hoping he listened, I squared off with a knight. Blood and gore covered his mouth in thick clumps. I was beginning to think the vow of silence didn’t apply when they weren’t hiding what they were.

  Either he hadn’t been given a description of what I looked like, which didn’t seem likely, or he was too lost to bloodlust. That sounded more probable. He bared his fangs, hissing as he bent. I saw now that their teeth were like those of the Craven. There weren’t only two fangs, but four. Two on the top, and two on the bottom. Short and easily hidden, but no less deadly.

  The knight charged me with all the grace of a barrat. Knowing that the armor would be hard for me to pierce, even with a bloodstone dagger, I braced myself. The moment his fingers grazed my arm, I stepped to the side as I swung the dagger down on the center of his chest with all my strength. My blow met resistance, but the knight’s own body weight and momentum worked to my advantage. The blade pierced the armor and then the chest.

  The knight’s shout of pain and shock ended abruptly. Jerking the dagger free, I danced back as the fissures in his skin appeared. I didn’t want to be anywhere near him when he broke apart. The thought of the ash, of the pieces of him, getting on me, in my hair or mouth—or oh, gods, in my eyes—made me want to vomit.

  “Maiden?”

  The hair along my neck rose at the sound of Lord Chaney’s voice. I turned around, my heart lodged in my throat. The fangs were hidden, his placid expression not set to one of awe. Blood seeped from a wound on his chest. It looked like someone had almost gotten him with a sword or dagger, but he’d been too fast. What had caused the lurch in my chest was what he held against him.

  It was the boy.

  The child either hadn’t listened to me or wasn’t fast enough. Lord Chaney had one hand curled under the child’s throat. Thin rivulets of blood ran from where the Ascended’s nails dug into the boy’s skin.

  “They told me you were scarred,” the Lord said. His eyes were like the blackest fire as they flicked to the dagger. “I assumed they meant it was just a scratch or two, just a minor flaw. But it is you.”

  “It is me.” I rapidly ran through the possible scenarios as the boy trembled. Almost all of them ended with the child’s death, and I couldn’t have that on my soul. Too many people had already died or were seriously wounded. Names would be carved in the chamber’s walls, all because the Ascended had come for me. I only saw one way for the boy to survive. “You’re here to save me.” The words tasted of ash on my tongue. “Thank the gods.”

  Lord Chaney watched me closely. “Are you sure you’re in need of saving? You killed two knights.”

  “One of them was trying to hurt the boy, and the other knight…he scared me,” I forced out. “I thought they were going to hurt me. I didn’t know there were Ascended among the Royal Knights.”

  A humorless half-smile appeared. “There’s no need to be afraid now, Maiden,” he said. “You’re safe. Lay down the bloodstone.”

  The hairs were still at attention. The dagger was my only weapon against an Ascended. Without it, the paltry meat knife would be little to no help. Just like it would’ve if I had managed to escape the night prior. Casteel had been painfully right about how badly that would’ve gone, though now wasn’t the time for self-recriminations. “You’re hurting the boy.”

  The Lord’s brows rose as the sound of fighting continued in the yard. “Am I?”

  I nodded. “He’s bleeding.”

  He didn’t take his eyes off me. I knew I wouldn’t be able to throw the dagger as I had before. The element of surprise was gone. “He’s a Descenter, Maiden.”

  “He’s just a child—”

  “A child of those who sought to kidnap you. His safety should be the least of your worries. Why you stand before me unveiled, not only holding a bloodstone dagger but also with the knowledge of how to use it is far more concerning.”

  I almost laughed. Leave it to an Ascended to believe that my unveiled face and my ability to fight was more concerning than the fate of a child. “But he’s just a little boy, and I believe he’s a second son,” I quickly lied. “He is destined to Ascend, and the gods will be very displeased if something were to happen to him, wouldn’t they?”

  “Ah, yes. I wouldn’t want to displease the gods.” His fingers eased, and the boy wheezed raggedly. The Lord placed his hands on the boy’s tiny shoulders. “Lay down the dagger. You don’t need it now. Then I shall let him go. I will take you far from here, back to your Queen. She is very worried about you, Maiden.”

  With the dagger, I had a chance. Lord Chaney was fast, and smarter than the knight. He wouldn’t come at me like a wild boar. I’d have to be clever. But without my bloodstone weapon? I stood no chance. The Lord wouldn’t kill me. The Ascended needed me. The child, however? He would kill him with little thought. My gaze dipped to the boy. He’d been at the stables, shouting, “From blood and ash” when the others called for me to be sent back to the Queen in pieces. But he was just a child.

  Exhaling slowly, I opened my hand. The dagger slipped from my fingers. It hit the ground with a soft thunk that sounded like a door being closed. “I’m ready to go home.” I steadied my voice. “To my Queen. Please?”

  Lord Chaney smiled again, and dread knotted my stomach. He nodded, and that was the only warning I had before shocking pain exploded across the back of my head, and my world plummet
ed into darkness.

  Jostled into consciousness, I woke to my head throbbing as if it were splitting in two and a dry, cottony feeling in the back of my mouth. The constant, rough rocking forced my eyes open. Everything was a blur of crimson.

  I blinked until my vision cleared. A gas lamp cast a soft glow over the crimson. I was in a carriage, laid out on a cushioned bench draped in red. I drew in a deep breath and almost coughed on the heavy, too-sweet cologne.

  “You wake.”

  My stomach dropped. Lord Chaney. I rose unsteadily, wincing as pain spiked intensely across the back of my skull. The Ascended came into view as I reached around and gingerly touched the skin. It was tender, and there was a small lump, but no blood, even though the area throbbed.

  “You hit me,” I said, my voice hoarse.

  “I didn’t hit you,” Lord Chaney replied. He sat in an arrogant sprawl, arms resting along the back of the bench. “Sir Terrlynn was the one who struck you. It was distasteful but necessary.”

  “Why?” I quickly glanced around the carriage. There was nothing I could use as a weapon, and I doubted there was bloodstone or Blood Forest stakes hidden anywhere.

  But I did have the…knife. Although, what was I going to do with a meat knife against an Ascended?

  “We needed to make haste, and I feared you would somehow…unintentionally delay us.” He shifted on the bench, lines of tension forming at the corners of his mouth.

  My gaze dipped as I lowered my hand to the seat beside me. The wound across his chest was visible beneath the tear in his tunic. The reddish-pink skin was jagged, and the gash appeared deep. Ascended were known to heal rapidly from wounds, much like the Atlantians.

  “How long have I been unconscious?” I asked. With no windows, I couldn’t tell if it was day or night.

  “You slept for about an hour.”

  My heart tripped over itself. An hour? Good gods, I couldn’t believe he even escaped the keep—eluded Casteel. But the Prince had to have realized I’d been taken.