Breath of Fire

by Amanda Bouchet

  “Then why did you go back?” Griffin asks.

  My expression must turn ugly. It feels ugly. “I was going to kill my mother. Maybe Otis, too.”

  Griffin watches me. They all do. I can’t tell how they feel about that, or what they’re thinking.

  “Why didn’t you?” Griffin finally asks.

  “Because I’m a coward.”

  “You are not a coward,” he growls softly. The others echo their agreement.

  I can’t look at them and settle my gaze on the slowly dying fire instead. “I could have ended her reign of terror. Fisa needed one thing from Eleni, and if not from Eleni, then from me. End it. End her. There could have been peace, security, prosperity. I held it all in the palm of my hand, along with a dagger. I was invisible. I kept telling myself to just do it. Then I could move on to Otis. I could cut them both down without ever showing my face.”

  “But you didn’t.” I know Griffin is looking at me. I don’t look back.

  “Otis must have guessed I’d come for him. He locked himself behind so many wards I couldn’t get through. He probably stayed in his room for a year.” I snort, but it sounds hollow. “I wouldn’t know. I was long gone by then because I didn’t do any of it. I did nothing. I watched Mother for days. She was frantic when no one could find me. In her own warped way, she hurt. I’m not sure why she was so out of her mind, but do you know how that made me feel?”

  Griffin seems to choose his words very carefully. “You were fifteen, confused and hurting. You can’t spend your life blaming yourself for a child’s decisions.”

  “Fifteen is not a child!” My voice lashes out, slicing loudly through the night. “You know that as well as I do.” Especially in the south, most girls are considered women from their first cycle, ready for a home and family of their own. Just because Griffin is absurdly overprotective doesn’t change the rest of the world’s standards.

  “For the first time ever, Mother looked uncertain, and I thought maybe she actually did care about me. That maybe in her twisted mind, everything she did was to make me stronger, to groom me to rule.” I turn halfway, finally facing Griffin again. “I did immeasurable harm just by being the Kingmaker and caving to Mother when she wanted to get people’s truths out of me. I murdered Thaddeus. I got Eleni killed. Without Eleni, I thought—”

  Griffin shakes his head. “You did not get Eleni killed.”

  I scoff. “I’ll believe that when the Underworld freezes over and Centaurs fly.”

  “Don’t hate yourself for giving your own mother a second chance. You wanted to see good in her.”

  “I was stupid, Griffin. There is no good in her.”

  “None of this is your fault.”

  “Argh!” I snarl. “If you can’t admit I’m a terrible person, I’ll never believe another word you say!”

  He laughs. Laughs!

  “Sorry,” he mutters gruffly, capturing my hand once more. “What you did, or rather didn’t do, proves something you shouldn’t have so much trouble believing,” Griffin says.

  I debate twisting my hand out of his again. In the end, I leave it where it is. “What?” I reluctantly ask.

  “You’re the exact opposite of your mother.”

  I snort.

  “You know I’m right.”

  “You’re never right.” Which is a colossal lie. “You can’t even rhyme.”

  His low chuckle warms something in my chest.

  “He’s right,” Flynn says.

  “He’s right,” Kato agrees.

  “He’s right.”

  Carver, too? I sigh. “You’re all delusional. And I didn’t let Andromeda live just because of some idiotic hope that she’d change and the first fifteen years of my life could be blood under the bridge.” I take a deep breath. Now for the hard part. “It’s possible that killing her will end the world.”

  Griffin’s face goes utterly blank. “What?”

  “The Chaos Wizard… He, uh, said something. Before I left.”

  His eyebrows dive together. “What?” Griffin repeats, his voice sharpening.

  “A prophecy.” I shift nervously. “One of those fun, fate-of-the-world kinds.”

  Staring at me, Griffin goes disturbingly still. My heart slams a hard beat against my ribs.

  Carver sits up straighter. “That sounds dire.”

  “It is dire.” Glancing around the campfire, I see all eyes on me.

  “What did the wizard say?” Griffin asks.

  I feel short of breath, and I have to rip the words from my throat. “He said I’m going to destroy the realms. That I’m the Harbinger of the end.”

  Griffin still doesn’t move, and a painful ache spreads across my chest. He’s shutting down. What he felt for me is frosting over on this chill wind, and I’ll never get him back.

  And why would I? I’m the diametric opposite of everything he stands for. Everything he wants.

  His tone flattening, Griffin says, “Details. Tell me everything.”

  “Details don’t change the outcome.”

  “Humor me.”

  My heart lurches. The last time he said that, I told him evasive half-truths and made myself out to be someone I’m not. He probably thinks I’ll do that again. But I’ve changed, and I won’t.

  Dread still rises like a riptide to drag me under. “Catalia Andromeda Eileithyia Fisa—no mistaking it’s about me,” I add dryly. “Harbinger of the end. Destroyer of realms. Origin magic takes Alpha blood. Kingdoms crumble with the fall of the scourge.”

  Griffin studies me hard. “And you think that means what, exactly?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “Is it?” he asks.

  “Don’t make this harder than it already is.” I stand, starting to back away.

  Griffin snags my wrist, stopping me, his grip tight but not hard enough to hurt. “You’re interpreting it wrong.”

  “What are you talking about? I have Origin magic. It’s my heritage. I spill Alpha blood, my mother’s, the scourge—you even called her that yourself once—and therefore somehow destroy the world.”

  Griffin’s mouth breaks into a slow smile.

  I glare at him. “There’s nothing funny about this!”

  Leaping up, he grabs me and swings me around.

  “Griffin!” My heart swoops wildly.

  “Cat. Cat.” Lowering me, he buries his face in my neck, inhaling deeply. “You’ve spent eight years imagining the worst, haven’t you?”

  “Uh…” Of course I have. Who does he think I am?

  “Magic and mayhem? Floods and earthquakes? Death and destruction?” he asks.

  I nod. “Thunderbolts from Olympus, creatures running amok…”

  Griffin lifts his head, his eyes dancing. “You have no idea of your own worth.”

  I frown. “You really are delusional. You need help. Maybe your mother has some herbs.”

  Griffin gives me a horrified look.

  “Fine. No herbs.”

  He squeezes my waist. “You need to stop with the pessimism. No more self-pity. You’re better than that.”

  My jaw slides unhinged. That stung. “Then what do you think the prophecy is about?” I’ve always been terrible at riddles. Could I have gotten it that wrong?

  “The Gods have been watching over you for years. They’ve helped you, given you gifts, magic, advice. Saved you. Why would they go out of their way to keep you alive if you were nothing but a means of base destruction?”

  “I don’t know! The Gods are weird. Maybe they’re sick of Thalyria and want to start over again.”

  “Finally.” Griffin nods. “You’re getting it now.”

  My eyes narrow. “Are you being sarcastic?”

  He shakes his head. “I took Sinta. The Gods brought us together to take the rest of Thalyria. It’s just
like we thought. We’re going to unify the realms.”

  “Unify. Destroy.” At a loss, I look around at the world I’m apparently going to make crumble. “It’s not the same thing.”

  Griffin challenges me with a stern look. “Poseidon brought us together so we could do this. Origin magic.” He lightly taps my chest. “Alpha blood—which you took, multiple times, and not only blood.” He winks and taps his own chest.

  “You’re not Alpha.” Only he is.

  “It’s just a word,” Griffin says.

  “Words are important in a prophecy!”

  “Fine. I hereby declare myself Alpha Sinta. I’ll send Egeria a scroll.”

  I laugh. I can’t help it.

  Griffin lifts his hands and pushes my hair back from my face, holding the fluttering strands against the sides of my head. “The scourge isn’t just your mother. It’s everything. The way the realms are run, what the Alphas have become. You broke the mold, you and Eleni, when you refused to take part in the race for power.”

  My nostrils flare. “I ended up on top. What’s worse than that?”

  “Stubborn to the core,” Griffin mutters, pressing his fingers into my scalp. “You defended yourself. That’s all.”

  I open my mouth to argue but then snap it shut. Nothing I did was ever to gain power. I’ve always run from responsibility, which makes what Griffin is saying even scarier. If we succeed, I won’t just have Fisa to deal with, I’ll have everything.

  “You are the Harbinger of the end of the realms. We’ll destroy them. We’ll break down borders, create a new kingdom, and make it a place worth living in again—for everyone, if we can.”

  “Your idealism is nauseating.” But something foreign and bright streaks through me. Optimism? It’s nauseating, too.

  Griffin looks more certain than ever. “The Gods created us for this. The Fates wove the threads of our lives around this.”

  I stare at him. “You can’t know that. We don’t know.”

  “I know.” Lit by moonlight, Griffin’s steady gaze tells me a story of devotion—and utter conviction. “You should trust me. Trust me, Cat.”

  Trust me. I swallow. One breath. Two. My stomach flips over and then crashes through a tangle of nerves. “Okay.”

  Griffin’s eyebrows fly up. He abruptly straightens, dropping his hands from the sides of my head. “Okay?”

  I smile at his obvious shock. “Yes, Your Persuasiveness.”

  “Good.” He nods once. “When a crumbling house reaches a certain point, there’s no fixing it. You tear it down. You clear the rubble, and then you build something better.” The silver linings around Griffin’s irises draw me like a magnet. “You may be the Harbinger of the end, but do you know what else you are?”

  I shake my head, half dreading the answer still.

  “You, agapi mou, are the new beginning.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Panotii looks put out about being left behind and dogs my steps as I stow his tack under the deep overhang on the south side of the wizard’s hovel. There’s plenty of grass here, water at the lake, and it’s not that cold yet, despite the shift in seasons. If the rains start before we get back, the horses can take shelter under the overhang. I’m not worried about them wandering off. Not one of them has stepped outside of the large makeshift corral of God Bolt pits since we got here.

  “You can’t come with us,” I tell him. “It’ll be cold and slippery. And big monsters will want to eat you.”

  He tosses his head, snorting.

  “Really big monsters. There might be Dragons. And the Hydra. And I can’t vouch for the friendliness of the Ipotane toward regular horses.” I blow gently into his nose. Panotii chuffs back. “You’ll be safe here, and if anyone tries to steal you, Grandpa Zeus will throw down a thunderbolt. Boom! No more horse thief.”

  “Zeus may have better things to do than babysit our horses,” Flynn says, stowing his own equine gear next to mine.

  I glance northward toward the Gods’ mountain home and speak loudly. “In that case, I’m announcing right now that I’ll make an Olympian stink if anything happens to my horse.”

  Flynn looks nervous and moves away from me like he’s expecting a God Bolt to come thundering down.

  “She’s not kidding.” Sunlight glints off Griffin’s windblown hair. Thick black stubble darkens his jaw. He flashes me a smile that brings out the slight hook in his nose, and something tightens in my belly.

  I turn back to Panotii and scratch under his jaw. “You’re in charge here.” His enormous ears flick my way. “You keep the others in line.”

  Panotii nods. I swear to the Gods, my horse nods.

  Brown Horse raises his head and pins me with a gimlet stare.

  I roll my eyes. “Fine. You can help. You’re both in charge.”

  Apparently satisfied, Griffin’s horse goes back to grazing, shearing the grass around him with neat, organized efficiency. Griffin and Brown Horse were made for each other.

  Panotii shoves his nose into my shoulder, knocking me back a step. Taking a handful of his chestnut mane, I stretch up on my toes to whisper into one of his donkey ears. “Seriously, you’re in charge. I’ll bet you can even rhyme.”

  Carver and Kato chuckle as they walk past.

  Griffin bands his arms around my waist from behind, surprising me. “I heard that.” He hauls me back against his chest and buries his face in the crook of my neck with a warning growl.

  I laugh, a heady burst of awareness racing through me. He nuzzles that spot below my ear, giving it a lingering kiss and then a soft little nip. Hot shivers cascade from my nape to the small of my back, pooling at the base of my spine.

  “We’re never alone anymore.” I hear the huskiness in my voice as I press against him and lift my arms, curving my hands around his neck. “I haven’t seen you naked since Kitros. Haven’t felt your skin on mine.”

  He groans. I feel him hardening behind me. “I miss that. I miss being inside you.”

  Desire spills swirling warmth through my middle. The pleasurable feeling moves lower, tightening. “I love the way you touch and kiss me everywhere and then again. As if you can’t get enough.”

  “Can’t ever get enough.” Sheltered from view by Panotii at our front, Griffin skates his hands up my rib cage until his thumbs tease the undersides of my breasts. He draws rough knuckles along the curves, and toe-curling tingles radiate from his touch. Muscles heat and clench in my core. Under my cloak, Griffin palms both breasts. When my nipples stiffen, he gently rolls them between his fingertips, and I stop breathing. I want to tear off my tunic so he can touch bare skin.

  “You’re torturing me,” I murmur.

  He tugs, and a jolt of sensation arcs straight to the space between my legs. “Then we’re even, because I’m torturing myself.”

  His whiskers rasp my neck, sending a wash of goose bumps down my body. The delicious chills heat me up until I’m simmering with need. Before he can drive us both even crazier, I turn and slip my arms around his waist. The accelerated beat of his heart drums beneath my ear. Sometimes, I want to be so close to Griffin that I think only crawling inside him will satisfy me. I don’t understand that—this overwhelming need to be one.

  I grip him hard. “I love you. I need you. It’s a constant ache.”

  Griffin buries his hand in my hair, holding my head against his chest. His other arm circles my back. The evidence of his desire is thick and hard against my belly. “I know, kardia mou. I feel it, too.”

  A heavy longing settles in my bones. I tilt my face up, he lowers his, and the searing kiss that follows leaves me feeling claimed all over again.

  * * *

  “There it is. The northeast needle.” My breathing is ragged from another endless trudge through thigh-deep snow. I point to an intimidating peak, the last of the icy spires before the Deskathi Mountains final
ly taper off into the long, twisting valley leading to the Phthian Gap.

  Even with my underdeveloped sense of direction, we would have been hard pressed to get lost. The mountain range practically grew out of the far shore of the Frozen Lake, and all we had to do was follow it northeast, sticking to the cols and valleys, and watching the peaks around us grow taller and spinier with each passing day. With the way this direction tugs on my magic, I could probably have done it blindfolded. The farther we venture onto the Ice Plains, the more I’m aware of the magical compass inside of me, and the needle only seems to point one way—toward Olympus.

  A gust of wind lifts fresh powder from the slope beside us and sends it swirling through the air. The sun reflects off the frosty particles, turning them into a whirling cyclone of glittering gold. Squinting against the dazzling brightness, I pull my cloak more firmly around my head and neck to block the biting cold.

  I glance at Griffin. He and the others are holding up well in the harsh climate, or at least they’re not complaining. Thank the Gods for Hades’s cloaks.

  Well, thank Hades, really.

  Griffin scrapes a cold-reddened hand over his thickly bearded jaw, cursing softly as he takes in the sheer mountain face. His gaze narrows on the shadowed entrance to the high-up caves. “How in the name of Zeus are we supposed to get up there?”

  I grin, giddiness sweeping through me to have gotten this far with so little trouble. The few skirmishes we’ve had with magical creatures ended quickly and in our favor, and the weather, while frigid, has been free of storms. “There’s a path, of course.”

  Silvery eyes meet mine. “I see no path.”

  “It’s there. Thanos told me.”

  “And how did he know?” A low, particular growl edges into Griffin’s voice whenever I talk about Thanos. I may come across as overenthusiastic in my admiration, at least for Griffin’s taste.

  I shrug. “I can’t think of anything Thanos didn’t know. I suppose he came here. He’d been pretty much everywhere.”

  “And yet he was your guard?” Griffin asks.

  I nod. “He taught me more than all my tutors combined. I was in awe of him.” Thanos, with his broad cheekbones, deep-set eyes, hammer-like fists, and colossal build. “I was convinced I was going to marry him when I grew up.”