My sister spun to me. “Lark, fight her!”
Peta trembled beside me, her fear bleeding into my heart. “Lark, this is not a punishment you can survive, the lava whip is deadly to any who don’t carry fire in their veins.”
Fiametta shrugged. “You won’t do as I ask. Unless you have changed your mind?”
All I had to do was agree to help her hunt the traitors, the two that on my own I would have gone after.
Pride had gotten me into this mess. Perhaps humility would allow me to find a way out. “I will do . . . as you ask.”
There was a heavy pause in the air and she patted me on the head. “Well done. I will only give you half the lashes.” She smirked and my jaw dropped.
Maggie stepped forward. “How I have waited for this. Better even than the Pit, your death will be slow.” Along with two other Enders she grabbed me and they stripped the clothes from my body, leaving me as bare as the day I was born.
“On your knees,” Fiametta commanded and I dropped, a slow steady fury building in my guts. How could she do this in front of her people, and they allow it? The answer was simple. The same way the people of the Deep had bowed to Requiem. The same way my own family had bowed to Cassava.
Child, do not fight her. This is part of your training, this is part of your journey. Hold tightly to the earth, hold tightly to me and I will see you through this. The mother goddess spoke softly and I reached for the power underneath my knees. The mountain’s essence filled me, like a cup overflowing with water and I squeezed it, wrapping it around me.
The whip sailed through the air, cracking at the last second before it touched my back. At first I thought I would be spared the pain as the lash left my back, for a split second I felt nothing.
I was so very wrong.
A blaze of pain roared up my spine, tracing the lines of the whip as if a serpent made of pure fire had lain across my skin. I couldn’t stop the cry that escaped and I heard it echoed from Bella, as she sobbed. Echoed in Peta as she cried out with me.
The lash fell again and I collapsed to my hands and knees, the pain cutting through me, feeling as though it would truly divide my body wherever it touched. I lost count how many times the whip burned over my body, time receded and I floated in a place where my body and spirit seemed to have disconnected from my mind.
In that haze, an intense hatred blossomed. Fiametta, and Requiem. Leaders of two families of elementals and neither deserved the position, nor the power. Yet they were given it. Even my own father was a complete mess, his mind and spirit twisted by Cassava to the point he was unable to trust past the fear. The mother goddess had allowed it to happen, and had allowed this to happen.
I was the one being punished for deaths I hadn’t caused.
The world was not fair. I knew that and was not fool enough to think otherwise. But this was too far. The anger powered through me and I clung to it, riding it like a wild horse that would carry me into battle. The whip was coming, the sound of it in the air cut through every other noise around me. I pushed myself up so I was on my knees.
Looking over my shoulder at Fiametta as she wielded the whip, I saw something I didn’t expect. Her face was a mask of sorrow, and even . . . grief. As if she didn’t want to hurt me.
“Enough, you’ll kill her!” a voice cut through the pain, and the whip didn’t make contact with me, but fell to the ground, twisting and writhing with the flame that licked along its length.
Cactus stepped between me and Fiametta, his hands in front of him, lines of power running up his arms in green and red; he was ready to fight for me against his own queen and the thought stunned me. I could count on one hand the number of people who’d stood for me in my life, placing my life above theirs.
My body burned, every breath I drew into my lungs stretched the skin over my back and I wished I didn’t have to breathe at all. Yet I stayed where I was, swaying, but upright.
Fiametta’s blue eyes held mine. “The punishment is done.”
The anger didn’t leave me, but my strength finally did and I slid to the floor, flat on my belly.
My cheek pressed into the cold stone below me and a shiver coursed through me, which cracked open the burns on my back, the crispy skin cracking. Belladonna dropped beside me, her hands on my face.
I didn’t know what she said, the words blurred by the waves of pain rippling through me, wiping out anything that made sense. I closed my eyes and held tightly to the only thing I knew would get me through.
Rage.
CHAPTER 19
actus knelt beside me, his words breaking through the buzzing in my ears. “You can’t Travel with her like this. She has to heal first.” His hands were gentle, touching me only where the lash hadn’t fallen. My face, front of my neck and palms were the only safe zones I could feel.
Peta pushed him away and dropped her face to mine. “Lark, draw from me.”
I knew the pain would transfer to her, and I wasn’t willing to do that. I couldn’t manage much more than the one word.
“No.”
She let out a soft cry and lowered herself to the ground beside me, but spoke over her shoulder. “I will carry her.”
Hands lifted me, cracking the skin on my back yet again, the warm blood oozing down my sides and into Peta’s fur as they laid me on her back, still face down. In my head, I knew she couldn’t possibly move smoother than a stretcher held by two people, yet I didn’t feel her steps. She dropped into a stalking crouch and crept forward, her paws barely rising from the ground. I rolled in and out of consciousness, my nerve endings driving the pain deeper into my body. I couldn’t stop the twitching of my muscles as I fought the agony that wanted to break me. In that moment, I understood that was the full purpose of the lashing—not just to wound me, or kill me, but ultimately break my spirit—to bring me to my knees and make me pliable to Fiametta’s will.
“Bring her in.”
I lifted my eyes. We were back at Brand’s home, and Smoke directed Peta to take me to my room.
“No, not here.”
Peta gave a low growl. “You have no choice. The healers are still sleeping.” I doubted that. More likely that Fiametta refused to allow them to help me. For just a moment my anger overwhelmed the pain, giving me a brief second of relief.
The relief evaporated like my sweat as Cactus tucked his hands under my shoulders and Brand took hold of my feet.
As careful as they were when they moved me from Peta’s back to the bed, I couldn’t stop the sharp cry from my lips. I blacked out, the fiery pain driving straight through my consciousness, cutting me off from the world in a fogged haze.
A soft hand on my brow brought me around and I turned my head, pressing my cheek into the silken sheet below me. “Smoke.”
“Shh. You must rest. I have something for your back. It will draw the heat out but . . . it will be very painful.”
I tried to turn so I could see her face but she pressed her hand against my head. “Lark, you must not move. You will be scarred as it is, but every time you move, you make it worse.”
My entire view consisted of: the pale blue sheets, Peta’s green eyes as she sat in her housecat form beside me with her tail wrapped around my neck, and the grey stone of the far wall. I kept my breathing shallow and my voice low. “Do it, Smoke. If it means I will heal faster, then do it.”
“The wrap will take an hour to prepare. Rest and whatever you do, don’t move,” she said and walked away, her footsteps fading. The sounds of the household were dim, humming in my ears with the drone of a beehive. Peta stiffened. “Lark, he’s coming.”
“Who?” I mumbled the question, the pain causing a weird drowsy state I couldn’t seem to fight. Peta’s head dropped forward and she let out a long, low hiss as her eyes closed.
Footsteps, the sound of the door opening and then the flash of a black cloak along the edges of my vision. “Dear Larkspur, that bitch really did a number on you, didn’t she?”
He dropped into a crouch so he co
uld look me in the eye, except that his cloak hid his facial features from me. I knew nothing except he was a man, and part of the reason I had the lashing. If he hadn’t taken the papers from me I could have made a case that the Enders were not fatally injured. That they’d been wounded, but that was all.
The pain made my tongue loosen. “What did you do to my cat?”
“She’s sleeping, like everyone else here. You know, the Salamanders are a foolishly proud group. They think they are safe here in their little mountain. But I’ll tell you a secret. . . they aren’t. They have enemies. The firewyrms hate them with a passion.”
“You made them enemies, didn’t you?”
He gave me a wink. “Maybe I did help it along a little.”
“And you are making the Salamanders sleep.”
Laughing, he nodded. “Yes, it makes the queen twitchy. And of course, I was the one who finished off the Enders. You must have guessed that by now.”
I blinked several times, unable to nod.
He laughed and leaned forward. “I like you, Larkspur. I always have. I wish I could trust you.” With one hand, he reached out and touched my nose. On his middle finger was a deep red chunk of ruby set into a silver band. Lines of power flickered around it as though it were alive. It could only be one thing: the elemental stone that controlled fire.
“Nice ring, your momma give it to you?” I slurred.
“As a matter of fact, she did. Quite the woman my mother was.” He withdrew his hand and tipped his head to one side. “You’ll be leaving after this little fiasco?”
I tried to think what the point would be in lying to him. Why would I stay now? Fiametta proclaimed Ash and I could leave, and Cactus and Peta were free to go as well, as far as I knew. I vaguely recalled Belladonna saying goodbye. That the Rim needed her. No reason to say, and yet, I wanted to cover my ass in case something slowed me.
“Unless someone forces my hand, yes, I’ll be leaving as soon as I heal,” I murmured.
“Ah, lovely, just lovely. You’ll leave Fiametta to me then. I like that. Sorry about the bridge earlier. I was under the impression you were helping Fia—by the way, love the nickname you gave her—to straighten things out here. Can’t have that, now can I?”
My tongue was thick and all I wanted was a drink. A long, cold drink. “Water.”
“Oh, of course. Here.” He held out his hand, and in his palm, water pooled, clear as a river coursing from the top of a mountain. He held his hand to my mouth and another time I would have hesitated, questioned his seeming kindness. But the fire in me burned hot, devouring the moisture in my body at a rate I didn’t think I could keep up. He tipped his hand and the water trickled into my mouth at a steady rate until I turned my face away. “Enough.”
He stood, took one step away and then stopped. “May I make a suggestion, Larkspur?”
I stared up at him, wondering if he really was asking. The whole conversation felt like he’d just wanted to talk. Which was weird at best. “Only if you tell me your name.”
“Ah, yes, everyone wants to know my name. You can call me Blackbird. On account of the black cloak.”
Internally, I struggled with what to do. He was an Undine, wearing a ring that gave him power of a Salamander. How the hell was I supposed to stop him? And did I even want to?
“Did I meet you when I was in the Deep?” I spit the question out as I tried to place him. He shook his head.
“We’ve met, Larkspur, and I like you. But you will never, ever guess who I am.” He slapped his hand onto my back, his fingers burying into my soft, tender flesh, blood oozing out. My back arched and I screamed as he dug his fingers deeper into the wound.
“I’m doing this for your own good. You’ll thank me later. And if you care to blame anyone, blame the mother goddess. She asked me to heal you and that is the only reason I do what I do for you. I am sworn to her.”
At least that was what I thought he said; I struggled to hear anything over my own howls into the air. His hand seemed to sink through what was left of the flesh on my back and to my bones, his fingers sliding along my spine.
I couldn’t even lash out at him. My body convulsed with pain to the point of being stunned. A rolling, crushing wave that stole my ability to breathe, think, or even consider anything beyond my next heartbeat and wondering if it would stop and the pain would end.
As suddenly as it began, he took his hand away, bent and put his lips next to my ear. “I’m sorry your back is not pristine as it was. I cannot heal what is no longer there, and Fiametta didn’t leave me much to work with.” He pressed his cheek against mine. “Leave tomorrow, Larkspur. Or I will make you wish Fiametta had her lava whip again.”
He kissed me on the cheek and with a swirl of his cloak was gone.
I sat up and took a few steps after him before I realized what I was doing. Freezing in place I lifted my arms. My left arm had been burned badly, but now there was no pain.
Behind me, Peta yowled and leapt to the floor, her tiny feet sounding more like she was in her leopard form. “Lark, your back, it’s healed. How can that be? What happened?”
Wobbling as I turned, I shook my head. “The one in the cloak, he did it.”
“The one who tried to drop the bridge out from under you? That makes no sense.”
I put a hand to my head. “No, it doesn’t.”
Weak, exhausted from the lashing and subsequent healing, I lay back down on the bed. “Peta, get Cactus and Ash. Tell them we leave as soon as I wake.”
She nodded and I closed my eyes so I might have imagined the rough-tongued lick across my forehead.
I sunk into a sleep so deep, I knew it was not just fatigue, or pain induced. No, this was something more.
I’d felt her touch before, and knew it well.
The mother goddess wanted to speak to me. Which was just as well since I had a few questions for her.
CHAPTER 20
“arkspur.” That one word shivered down my spine, the power she held in each syllable of my name, a visceral thing. There was no warmth in her voice, not like before. She called to me and I was forced to answer.
Blinking, I sat up. We were in the Rim, the towering redwoods swaying lightly in the breeze. Low hanging clouds flowed through the boughs of cedar, but unlike the normal white, they spread in pale purple filaments that seemed to cling to everything. The mother goddess stood next to the biggest redwood in the forest, the sides of it easily reaching fifteen feet to either side of her. The dark red color of the trunk offset the soft cream dress the mother goddess wore, her long pale gold hair a shade lighter than mine. A part of me was disturbed that she always chose to come to me in the guise of my own, long dead mother.
I bowed my head. “Mother.”
“Child, you have saved Ash from death. Well done.” Her hand touched the top of my head.
Questions bubbled up on my tongue and I struggled to figure out where to start.
“Just say the words as they come, Larkspur.” She spoke quietly, but with authority and I stopped trying to think too much about what I had to say.
“The man in the cloak, he calls himself Blackbird. Why would you tell him to heal me? He’s an asshole.” Okay, maybe that was a bit too bold for conversing with a goddess, but I had to know. I lifted my head a fraction of an inch so I could look up at her.
Her eyes were closed as if deep in thought.
“He is my child, as are you. He serves me in his own way, though you will not understand his part in your life until your journey is close to an end. The balance must be kept. For everything good, there is something vile.” There was a heavy pause as she drew in a deep breath. “And now I will ask of you one more thing, a task I know you will fight. A task you perhaps have already guessed.”
Shivers of fear trickled through me. Her words were enough to set me on edge and send my mind into a whirling maelstrom of questions. “I am your servant,” I whispered.
“You will stay in the Pit and save the firewyrms.”
>
“Why don’t you just stop Fiametta? What could I possibly do that would be better than you showing up and putting her in her place?”
Her lips quirked upward at the edges and she crouched beside me, her knees tightly together as she leaned over them toward me. “Child, there are rules that define this world, rules even for one such as myself. My consort flaunts the rules as he tries to influence things,” she reached out and touched the griffin tooth hanging from my neck, “and one day he will suffer for it. Remember this, if you remember nothing else. The rules set in place are to protect you, to keep you safe and your soul intact.”
I couldn’t stop the sigh that slipped out. “So long story short, you mean you can’t stop Fiametta?”
“That is correct. Rules and free will, they are a juxtaposition that has existed from the beginning of time.” She stood in a single smooth motion that made it seem as if she’d never been crouched beside me. “Save the firewyrms, Larkspur. That is what I want of you, and in doing so, you will save many lives.”
The mother goddess put her hands on my back, a soft breath escaping her that sounded like a whisper of pain. “You should not have been punished, but I cannot turn back time. We all make mistakes, Larkspur. Even I have.” Her fingers trailed the deep pits and ruts of the wounds and I could see the terrain as though I looked at a painting. My back was all but destroyed, muscles and ligaments burned apart, my spine peeking through in places, exposed to the open air. The man in the cloak, Blackbird, though I doubted that was his true name, may have healed me, but as he’d said, he could not put back what was no longer there.
Her fingers felt like a butterfly dancing across my skin. “Save the firewyrms, and I will make this right.”
My jaw dropped and again anger curled upward like a creeping vine that no matter how you dug, you never truly got all the roots. They always found purchase somewhere else.
“Heal me first,” I said, not dropping my eyes.
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