Heart on Fire

by Amanda Bouchet

  I pat Panotii’s shoulder, and his enormous ears twitch in my direction. His chestnut coat is shiny and smooth, even though I haven’t had much energy to brush him. By the time I think about heading to the stables, I’m usually ready for a nap. Maybe Griffin groomed him for me.

  Kato turns to me. The rain-charged wind lifts his blond hair from his shoulders, sending it swirling around his head. Storm clouds rush across the sky, darkening his blue eyes and throwing the courtyard into shadow. I shiver.

  “Are you cold?” he asks, a slight frown creasing his brow.

  I shake my head but keep rubbing my arms anyway. “Little Bean is like a bonfire inside me. It’s… I don’t know. Something in the air.” Or right here in the somber courtyard. It’s the ache of leaving Jocasta and Kaia behind in an only mostly stable situation, and the dread of separating them from their brothers and from the men they love. Despite my apparently confidence-inducing presence, anything can happen. An infinite number of things can go wrong, and I might not be able to stop them. What if they never see each other again?

  “We can wait out the storm,” Kato says.

  I’m not entirely certain he’s referring to the weather, but I shake my head again and then force a smile. “It’s blowing east. We’re going west. We’ll be fine.”

  Across the courtyard, Bellanca detaches herself from a teary Lystra and then goes to her already saddled horse. Actually, it’s Piers’s horse. Bellanca decided the gelding was better suited to the long journey ahead than her aging mare and simply appropriated him. The horse’s roan coat clashes magnificently with her fiery hair. As usual, the red locks still spark here and there. Even in the damp wind and coiled into tight braids on the top of her head, she can’t seem to put them out. I don’t know how she sleeps at night without catching her bed on fire. Sitting up? Maybe she takes her own advice and doesn’t sleep at all.

  Recalling the scene in the kitchen this morning makes me think of Flynn’s pressure-heavy words again.

  “Do you think I’m some kind of invincible warrior?” I blurt out, feeling pretty vincible at the moment. Half the time, I just want to curl up around Little Bean and protect her. And I keep staring off into space.

  “What do you mean, invincible warrior?” Kato asks.

  Before I can answer, his cloak billows open on the breeze, and I see that his leather armor is new. There’s a golden phoenix etched into the tough boar’s hide. The artistry is outstanding, and I can almost see the bird in motion, raising its proud head as it spreads its burning wings. It’s an indomitable creature, one that will always rise from the ashes, renewed by fire.

  My pulse speeds up. I think I have my answer in the message Kato chose to write across his chest.

  “I’m not sure exactly,” I say, my gaze still locked on the phoenix. “Do you feel like when I’m there, we’ll always win? Like no one will get hurt?”

  Kato’s big hands settle on my shoulders, squeezing lightly. “We all get hurt, and you’re no exception.”

  I glance down, worrying my bottom lip. The Agon Games weren’t kind to Kato, Griffin, or me. They were even harder on Carver, who nearly lost his life.

  “But what about the outcome?” I ask, looking back up. “The end result?”

  His hands drop away after another encouraging squeeze. “I don’t know if we’re always going to win. I don’t think even the Gods know that. But I know you, and I know the lengths you’ll go to. I’ve seen what your body can endure. And how you’ll go one step farther when you’ve already got nothing left to give. And then another. And then more. I gave up hope when we got separated in the ice caves, and I thought you’d died. I gave up hope again when you got destroyed by the Hydra and stopped breathing before our eyes.”

  He looks up and over my head, and I know the memory still pains him. Sometimes it still pains me—popping skin, breaking bones, tumbling sky. Fear.

  “But you came back every time,” Kato says. “Stronger. Less reckless. More powerful. Wiser than before.”

  “Wiser? Well, that wouldn’t be hard.”

  “And do you know what I learned?” he asks, ignoring my self-mocking tone.

  I shake my head, already maybe knowing, and kind of dreading his next words.

  “To never give up hope.”

  The air suddenly feels too thick for my lungs. Or maybe it’s just me who can’t breathe. “Hope?”

  Kato’s cloak snaps behind him on the growing wind, leaving the phoenix exposed to me. “You told us about Elpis before the Games, before we named our team after her.”

  I swallow with difficulty. “Her? Elpis is an idea.”

  He shakes his head. “It’s more than that. It’s an idea with a woman’s form. It’s something to latch on to.”

  “It’s all ancient history most people don’t even know anymore.”

  “But you brought the idea back,” Kato insists. “Brought her back—into hearts and minds. Back to Thalyria. And now everyone’s speaking it at once. Calling it in the streets. Using it as a greeting. Chanting it at our gates.” His eyes meet mine. Striking. Blue. Devoted. “Now… I don’t know. You’re Elpis to me.”

  So much churns inside me that I can’t separate my thoughts from my emotions. I didn’t tell anyone about my Elpis discovery, not even Griffin. It just felt like too much pressure. The weight of the world. But it seems as though Kato figured it out all on his own, probably long before I did. And Flynn did, too, without putting it into so many words. And there’s no doubt in my mind that Griffin knows also, however he chooses to think of it. He’s known longer than any of us.

  But Kato is terrifying me. He’s raising me too high. “What if I fail?”

  Kato looks at me with such sincerity, such platonic affection, that my chest squeezes tight.

  “You’ll still be my light in the dark, Cat. Even if you fail.”

  I inhale sharply, fighting the tears that always seem so close to the surface lately. Answering him is impossible. If I do, emotion will overwhelm me.

  Blinking rapidly, I look around. The courtyard is unusually quiet, despite our gathering here. Flynn stands near his horse, his auburn brows drawn low, trying without much success to keep his brooding gaze off of Jocasta. From the looks of it, Jocasta is glancing Flynn’s way just as often while still trying to pay attention to Griffin and Carver as well. Next to her, Kaia keeps looking at us, but I know it’s Kato she’s watching.

  Having said her brief goodbyes, Ianthe is already at the gate. The guards have cleared a path for us, the crowd is waiting for our passage with bated breath, and Ianthe looks more than ready to leave the castle that’s been more or less her prison for the last several months. She’s riding Galen Tarva’s enormous black warhorse. He’s far too big for her—even bigger than Griffin’s Brown Horse—and bad-tempered and jumpy to boot, but Ianthe wouldn’t ride any other. If my terrible suspicion about Galen’s abuse is correct, she’s taking control of what’s between her legs. I fear it’s symbolic, whether she realizes it or not.

  Bellanca mounts the roan, settling lightly and expertly into her saddle. She slaps at her sparking hair again, going cross-eyed when an ember pops and then sizzles toward her nose.

  I smile, and it feels good. I haven’t smiled enough lately.

  Bellanca fishes in her saddlebag and then jams a floppy hat onto her head, maybe to smother the fire. “Gods, are we going or what?”

  Beside me, Kato chuckles as he nods toward Bellanca. “I like her.”

  “I do, too.” I reach out and grab his wrist. “And thank you.”

  His eyebrows rise in question. “For what?”

  “For being the brother I never had.”

  His face loses all trace of humor. We’re not related, neither by blood nor by marriage, but that doesn’t matter. My heart knows the truth.

  Kato lifts his free hand and ruffles my hair. He pats my head, and I know
what that means. It means he loves me, too.

  CHAPTER 9

  Homecoming is bittersweet and doesn’t last long. For a group of people who have never shown themselves to be cowardly in the least, we sure get out of Castle Sinta as fast as we can. Home somehow doesn’t feel like home anymore when Anatole’s leathery face is creased with loss and Nerissa’s eyes are red-rimmed from crying.

  The fact that we came back without two of their daughters doesn’t help. Staying in Sinta any longer would be pointless anyway since they immediately begin to pack. Castle Tarva is about to get invaded—by parents—and we’re the escort back.

  Egeria, who’s shortly going to find herself managing western Thalyria alone, holds herself together admirably, and my respect for her grows. She agrees with and adds to Griffin’s and my suggestions, our many detailed conversations together reinforcing how competent and practical they both are, especially my husband. Hearing him lay out plans for integrating Sinta and Tarva makes me realize I’m like a foundation and a roof, important at the beginning and at the end. Griffin is the house in between.

  As we all gather in the courtyard and prepare to depart Castle Sinta on the first day I haven’t seen anyone crying—yet—I turn to Egeria and say, “I’m sorry we’re leaving you alone.”

  She smiles like that’s one of the nicest things I’ve ever said to her. The terrible fact is, it might be.

  “Sinta has been peaceful for months now,” she replies, seeming wholly confident. “The Ipotane will hopefully block any Fisan threat soon, and there’s still part of the army here.”

  A small part. The rest is leaving with us, moving east to join the forces we’ve already begun amassing in Tarva. But it wasn’t her safety I was worried about.

  “That’s not what I meant. I hope you won’t be too lonely.” She’s used to being surrounded by a large family. There’ll be no one left.

  Her dove-gray eyes soften. “I’m not alone. Lenore is here.”

  Lenore? I search my memory. “Jocasta’s maid?”

  Egeria blushes and ducks her head. “Not just Jocasta’s maid.”

  Oh. Oh! My eyes widen. Probably not Jocasta’s maid at all anymore. “That’s wonderful,” I say, almost voluntarily hugging her. The sudden impulse fades before I actually get my arms up, but Egeria takes matters into her own hands and gives me a hearty squeeze.

  “Why are you so pale?” Nerissa asks me after Egeria lets me go. She moves closer and inspects my face like she’s already concocting a recipe for a vile-tasting medicinal soup that’ll not only cure my lack of color but probably put hair on my chest, too. “You have shadows under your eyes, and your lips are practically white. Are you sick? I have herbal tonics I could fetch before we leave.”

  Nerissa’s tonics smell like mud, barn, and goat manure. There’s no way I’m drinking that. My stomach roils, and not just because of the threat of Nerissa’s medicine. Little Bean has proven to me more than once over the last several days that she is not, in fact, done making me throw up.

  “I’m not sick,” I answer. Although lately, it feels a lot like I am.

  Egeria gasps. “You’re pregnant!” Her expression lights up in a way I didn’t know was possible, turning her into a beauty to almost rival her younger sisters.

  I wasn’t going to announce the news now, here, like this, but I nod, since Egeria has already guessed anyway and looks like she could suddenly dance in place. Beside her, Nerissa’s face positively glows for the first time since we’ve been back. Grinning, Griffin’s mother folds me into a soft, herb-scented embrace.

  Her delighted voice is soft in my ear. “Thank you for giving me my first grandchild. You’ll be a wonderful mother, Cat.”

  Nerissa rocks me a little in her enthusiasm, shifting my balance to and fro. I hold on to her, powerless to stop it. Actually, I don’t want to.

  My heart expands almost painfully in my chest. Coming from the woman who secretly made me want to crawl into her lap the first time I saw her, those heartfelt words mean a lot. They also make me feel achingly fragile inside. Will I make a good mother? I don’t know how to handle a child. Half the time, I hardly know how to handle myself.

  Off to the side, I hear Anatole gruffly congratulating Griffin and pounding him on the back. Griffin says something equally gruff in response, but all I keep thinking is that Nerissa said the one thing I needed to hear above all else. Now I just need to believe it myself.

  I pull back from Nerissa’s arms and catch both Bellanca and Ianthe staring at us from atop their horses. The twin disbelieving expressions on their faces are almost comical, but I don’t laugh, because really, it’s not at all funny. They already know I’m pregnant. It’s the warm hug that’s taken them so thoroughly aback. I understand their astonishment, but if anyone can teach them that parental affection is possible, it’s Nerissa and Anatole. It might be a slow process. I’m still learning myself.

  Already mounted, Carver ambles up alongside Bellanca and Ianthe. “Blink, ladies. Chins off the ground. Especially you, Bellanca. I can see halfway down your throat. I know it comes as a complete shock, but yes, Cat does know how to hug.” He winks in my direction. “Almost.”

  I refrain from a rude hand gesture, because Nerissa would scold me. Kato and Flynn chuckle as they finish readying their horses.

  Ianthe’s green eyes brighten with humor, and I love her even more. She’s unbreakable. Does Elpis get an Elpis? Or two? Because along with Griffin, I think she’s mine.

  In typical Bellanca fashion, the redhead lifts her switch and bashes Carver over the head with it. He yelps in surprise, and maybe some pain, and then glares at her like he’s seriously considering knocking her off her horse. Or pulling her hair. Given half a chance, the two of them would brawl like urchins in an alley. Luckily, Carver still has some control over his physical impulses, despite consuming a truly worrisome amount of wine lately.

  He opens his mouth, and I’m curious to hear what he’ll say, but Nerissa beats him to the verbal punch with something I’m guessing will set Bellanca even more firmly on her ass.

  “Bellanca!” Nerissa calls out sharply. “Is that how a young lady behaves?”

  The Tarvan ex-princess’s face goes stark white. Then bright red. “He’s unbearable!”

  “Men often are,” Nerissa responds philosophically.

  “But he’s always needling me!”

  “Rise above,” Nerissa and I say at the same time. We turn to each other and laugh, and the sudden twinkle in Nerissa’s eyes goes a long way toward healing the guilt I feel over Piers’s permanent exile.

  Bellanca looks like she’s been swallowed by a whirlpool and spit out in Atlantis with no idea which way is up or down. Her eyes are huge and confused. Her mouth still gapes. I think she has a lot to say, but for once, she’s actually questioning the wisdom of blurting it all out.

  The second Nerissa turns her attention away, Carver gives Bellanca an epic smirk. Bellanca’s eyes narrow, zeroing in on the smug turn of his lips like she’s perfectly capable—and willing—to rip his mouth right off his face with her bare hands. Carver stops smiling and gets out of reach.

  I smother a laugh. I’m glad Bellanca is here. Carver doesn’t seem to react to much of anything besides her anymore.

  When everyone is mounted and ready to go, Griffin gravitates naturally to my side. Panotii and Brown Horse lead the procession out of the castle and through the crowded, colorful streets of Sinta City. Bellanca, Ianthe, Nerissa, and Anatole follow us, trailed by a good portion of Griffin’s Sintan army. Beta Team accompanies the soldiers, a large unit under each of their commands.

  I wave to the cheering crowd almost as often as Griffin does. The people of Sinta City love us. Griffin because he’s theirs. Me because I chose them.

  But the attention is still something I can’t get used to, don’t really want, and am not sure I truly deserve. Relief feeds my lungs like fr
esh air when our slow parade finally exits the city and winds its way toward the sloping olive groves. Unfortunately, the respite is short-lived.

  Griffin leans his dark head toward mine. “Next stop—Lycheron.”

  My shoulders slump, and I whine like a baby. “Do we have to?”

  He chuckles. “At least there are no Ice Plains to cross this time.”

  No. Only half of Sinta. We’d wanted to confront Lycheron looking our strongest, with our soldiers behind us, so luck had been on our side when we didn’t see the disturbingly virile Ipotane Alpha on our way to collect the army. A group of the warrior creature’s sentries and their Nymphs—I’m still not sure how that works—stopped us instead. We asked them to find Lycheron so that we could speak to him on our way back.

  “Do you really think you can get him to switch to guarding the border between Tarva and Fisa without making you go through a whole new challenge?” I ask. Lycheron will only bargain male Alpha to male Alpha. The first challenge involved riddles, forfeits, and Artemis—all of which I could do without.

  “I can try.” Griffin’s gray eyes glitter from beneath his dark lashes as he turns to me, the mix of humor and determination in them making my breath catch. Man. Warlord. Husband. King. I love every part of him.

  “I’m going to stitch that onto a banner for you,” I tell him. “I’ll turn it into your official motto.”

  The corners of his mouth kick up, and his expression brightens with surprise. “You can sew?”

  “Nope.” I grin. “But I can try.”

  * * *

  Lycheron. Good Gods. He’s still as potent as a creature can get. Half horse. Half man. And the man half is…

  I’d swallow, but my mouth has gone dry.

  …something to look at.

  Frankly, the horse half isn’t bad, either. Sleek. Black. Muscled. Huge. Everything—huge.

  We’re midway between Sinta City and Tarva City, meeting in the grasslands before they gradually turn into the hills and forests of the north. Beta Team flanks us with the army. Griffin’s parents remain with Carver, hanging back with the troops, but Bellanca stays close to us, as does Ianthe. The Ipotane make our horses nervous, so we dismount and approach on foot. After squeezing my hand, Griffin steps a little in front of us, knowing that Lycheron will only negotiate with him.