Fireblood

by Elly Blake

  Again, the wind swirled for a few seconds but then died completely. We all looked up to see the sails slack for the first time in weeks.

  “It’s bad luck to invoke the name of the east wind while at sea,” Jaro whispered.

  “You don’t really believe that,” I said, but I found myself nearly whispering, too. As if some unseen hostile ear might catch the words. After all, according to the legends, the god of the east wind was the creator of the Minax, and I certainly believed in its existence.

  Jaro scrambled to his feet. “If the wind gods withhold their gift, we’ll remain here, becalmed and helpless. It’s no way for a sailor to die, starving at sea with—”

  “That’s enough, Jaro,” said Kai, affectionate but firm. “We’ll finish the tale another night.”

  Aver whined and pleaded for more, but he stayed firm. “Another night.”

  Aside from a few squalls, the weather was hospitable for the rest of the journey. When I emerged on deck one morning, about four weeks after sailing from Tevros, the islands had grown closer on our port side. A dark, rocky shoreline loomed ahead.

  “Land?” I asked, leaning eagerly over the rail.

  “The Strait of Acodens,” said Jaro in his native tongue. My comprehension of Sudesian had become quite passable over the previous weeks. “This is where Fireblood masters guard the passage night and day, although Frostblood sailors never venture in this far—too many rocks and shifting sandbars for their big ships.”

  Tall, jagged cliffs blotted out the horizon. As we drew closer, the texture became clear: craggy and pockmarked, as if a bunch of rotted teeth had been jammed into the stone. A narrow ribbon of sea was threaded between two peaks, which leaned toward each other as they soared toward the sky. Outposts were set on ledges high above sea level. Figures in orange tunics moved into view. One of them called out, “Identify yourselves!” Kai gave his name and was greeted with friendly shouts.

  It took a few minutes to navigate between the crags looming on either side. Sea spray arced over the deck as it roiled in the narrow gap. Any mistake in steering would result in a breach in our hull. It felt like the entire crew held their breath for the duration.

  Once we’d passed through, the tension eased. It was clear from the grins on the crewmembers’ faces that we were in the home stretch.

  I leaned over the port railing and sucked in a lungful of humid air. The weather flaunted a welcome, sunny heat that made me want to stay on deck all day. It was the first time I’d felt truly warm outdoors. As we sailed south, I could feel the giddy power of the sun thrumming through my blood.

  Over the next two days, the space between islands thinned, until we were hemmed in on both sides. Kai had the crew measuring the sea depth at regular intervals.

  Then finally, late one day, there was a triumphant cry from Aver sighting the Isle of Sere, the capital. When she cried out the Sudesian word for home, it was one of the most joyous sounds I’d ever heard.

  Home. The thought punctured something deep in my chest. I was in the land of my mother and my grandmother. I had longed to see it, even more than I’d ever admitted to myself. And I was here. I had made it.

  The crew climbed into the rigging or pressed against the rails, whooping excitedly. A large island took shape, its wide bay backed by emerald hills, and behind that, the haze of several peaks topped with fluffy clouds that seemed to make the sky bluer. The bay was studded with white-sailed vessels bobbing in the turquoise water, mostly small boats, but some larger ships. Excited shouts from shore brought answering waves and smiles from the crew. It suddenly sank in that none of those waves or shouts were for me.

  But even so, a kick of delight sizzled through my veins as I took in the sandy shoreline, the intensely green hills, the puff of smoke from a volcano that rose with haughty superiority above the other mountains. Everything looked so lush and jewel-bright, completely different from Tempesia and somehow more than anything I’d ever imagined.

  If only Arcus were here to see it with me.

  NINE

  KAI WAS SILENT AS OUR CARRIAGE climbed the swell of a hill with sides draped in a cloak of green, a castle crowning its top. Thick walls connected four towers made of carefully fitted black stones. The style was heavy and square, without any spires or pointed roofs—more like Forwind Abbey than Arcus’s ice castle. But though it appeared rather dark and forbidding at first glance, there was a stark beauty about it. The windows were all arched, the crenellations on the towers as delicate as lace edging. Low walls made from red and black stone bordered gardens bursting with impossibly bright flowers.

  The dark stone edifice loomed, casting a deep shadow over the circular gravel drive. Trepidation quickened my breathing as the carriage rolled to a stop. I’d dreamed of this moment, but the reality held sharp edges and hidden dangers. The queen was no longer a figure of imagination, but a ruler with complete authority here. I’d put myself entirely in her power and had no idea what she wanted from me.

  To cover my anxiety, I hopped from the carriage, ignoring Kai’s proffered hand, and strode beside him to the open doors. Guards with silver-and-gold helms, each with an intricately worked halberd, stood at attention on either side of the entrance. Kai must have been well known, because they didn’t even blink as we entered.

  Shields and weapons covered the walls of the entrance hall. Richly carved tables in a reddish wood held porcelain vases with fragrant white flowers, their heavy blooms bowing their stems.

  A courtier appeared and led us down a long sunlit hallway, up a set of winding tower stairs, and past two guards who opened a set of doors leading into a spacious room with a gilded chandelier and silver torches. A red-and-gold carpet echoed gold-fringed drapes the color of garnets, which bracketed doors open to a stone balcony. The breeze perfumed the room with heavy floral scents.

  The room was sparsely furnished aside from two sturdy thrones, both of them gold and upholstered in red brocade.

  No throne of molten lava. No dark, insidious presence lurking just out of sight. I didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved.

  A thin, dark-haired man in a red satin robe occupied the smaller throne. It had to be the queen’s husband. Kai had mentioned him on the ship, but it took me a few seconds to remember his name: Prince Eiko. He faded into the background next to the queen. My attention grazed over him and honed in on her.

  Hair as dark as polished walnut flowed in an elaborate braid over her shoulder. A strong, well-shaped nose dominated her face. An elegant neck curved into square shoulders, which were left bare above the bodice of a cherry-wine gown. Reflexively checking for signs of possession, I noted that it was impossible to see the veins at her wrists from several yards away.

  Her fathomless eyes came to rest on me.

  A thrill ran through me, sending jolts of energy through my body and lifting the hair on my arms. Dream had become reality. I stood only paces away from the queen of Sudesia, ruler of the Firebloods, descendent of the original ruler blessed by Sud.

  And yet, it wasn’t pure happiness or elation that I felt, but fear. Kai had said the queen had sent for me, but he wouldn’t say why. Pestering him for answers had proved futile. I had come willingly, with an agenda of my own, but I was putting my safety completely in her hands. She had all the power here, and I had none.

  She beckoned us forward.

  Kai had taken my hand at some point and woven it through his arm. He led me to a spot several feet from the throne and stopped. He bowed low at the waist, and I sank into my best curtsy, the one Doreena had made me practice over and over before my first dinner with the Frost Court.

  The queen just stared at me silently. I felt her assessment in my bones.

  Her attention shifted to Kai. Her nostrils flared, and when she spoke, each word was like a stone dropping into a still pond. “What have you done?”

  Kai took a breath before answering. “I did as you instructed, Your Majesty. I found a way to avoid the Tempesian blockade, and then I infiltrat
ed the Frost Court to find her.”

  “And this is the girl?” She flicked her hand at me.

  “Her name is Ruby Otrera,” he replied evenly.

  Her expression remained stony. “Your task was clear: Find the girl, relay my offer—that she would eventually receive an invitation to Sudesia if she served as my spy—and then leave her in the Frost Court.”

  My head whipped toward Kai. He’d been sent to recruit me as a spy? If he’d been looking at me, he would have seen the rage in my eyes, but he was looking down with uncharacteristic deference. “I did what I thought was necessary to save her, Your Majesty. Our… my plan was flawed.”

  I wanted to grab him and shake the truth out of him. Instead, I clenched my fists and stared, as the queen might reveal more if she thought I couldn’t understand Sudesian.

  “How so?” the queen asked coldly.

  “She wasn’t safe.” His eyes flicked up to gauge her reaction, as if he knew this was an important card to play. “Frostblood assassins tried to kill her. They spoke of a group called the Blue Legion, whose aim is to return things to the way they were under King Rasmus.”

  She huffed. “I see no reason to believe that the new king is any different than the previous one.”

  Frustration burned in my chest. I yearned to shout that she had no idea what she was talking about, but instead bit the inside of my lip until the skin throbbed.

  “We cannot trust her,” the queen said.

  “Your Majesty,” said Kai softly, “I must remind you that she destroyed the frost throne and killed their king.”

  Not true. It had been Rasmus’s obsession with the Minax that had led to his own death—not that correcting the Firebloods would win me any points.

  The queen scoffed. “Yet she spared his brother, his successor. And then she remained in his court willingly. If she were a true Fireblood, she would have killed as many Frostbloods as she could before her own life was taken. Her only value to me was in her proximity to the king—a Fireblood spy in the Frost Court—and instead you offer me a girl with stale information.”

  “I may not have done what you expected, Your Majesty,” Kai argued, growing more confident, “but I believe I have given you something more valuable. Instead of risking her life and the loss of an asset, we have her here. We can still use her knowledge against the Frostbloods: their strengths and weaknesses, the inner workings of their court, their plans.”

  Arcus’s warning came back to me in a rush: that I shouldn’t trust the lies of a stranger. A sense of betrayal built into white-hot anger in my chest.

  The queen considered for a moment. “What are you hoping to gain from this, Prince Kai?”

  He took a step forward, his back ramrod straight. “I want my second chance, as agreed.”

  “You forfeited that when you failed in your task. I should throw you in prison for your disobedience.”

  Kai’s gaze shifted restlessly over me. Emotions flashed across his features—calculation, indecision, resolution—before he spoke. “The new king favors her. He… cares for her. You can use that to your advantage.”

  My indrawn breath fell sharply into the silence. Heat coursed through my veins, as if searching for a way out.

  “How much?” she asked.

  “A great deal,” said Kai, avoiding my eyes. “She calls him by a pet name. And there are rumors that she is his mistress.”

  My hands itched to forcefully stop the words emerging from his lying mouth.

  Kai continued. “There are also rumors that he intends to make her his queen.”

  Arcus never said anything like that! It was just talk among servants and courtiers and all the people who resented me and distrusted Arcus. My fury burned so hot, it was close to hatred. Kai was making a fool of me, treating me like a bargaining chip in some game I hadn’t known he was playing. And I loathed myself for trusting him.

  The queen had an arrested look as she examined me, as if seeing something she’d missed before. I kept my chin up, signaling my defiance. She didn’t seem to notice. She was too busy calculating my value the way a money lender weighs gold.

  “The king is in love with the girl who melted his throne?” She chuckled richly. “A comic playwright could not produce such outlandish farce. A Frostblood king led into foolishness by his emotions. It is beyond belief.”

  She bestowed her smile on Kai. “Perhaps I shall pardon you after all. If what you say is true, you’ve brought me a jewel in the king’s crown, so precious to him that he will do anything to secure her safety. I might as well hold his icy heart in the palm of my hand.”

  At the mention of his heart, my restraint broke. I needed to release the pressure and heat that had built up in my chest, either with fire or words. Considering Brother Thistle’s caution about my temper, words seemed safer.

  “The king would never do anything to harm his people.” I spoke in Sudesian, not caring if my speech was imperfect, only that she understood. My voice was low and seething, edged with warning. “You are wrong about him, Your Majesty.”

  Her brows rose. “So you admit you are special to him,” she said, gazing at me as approvingly as if I’d just paid her a compliment. “How much are you worth, I wonder? Fifty ships? A thousand? Perhaps a message with our terms will yield some fruit.”

  She wanted to ransom me for ships? “He won’t pay. You’ll only provoke him.” Whether that was true or not, I wanted her to believe it.

  “So much the better. Whether he sends ships as payment for your safety or he sends ships to attack, they would have to get through the Strait of Acodens. Our ships are smaller, but they are faster, more maneuverable. And we have fire. Much more deadly to a wooden vessel than frost is, my dear. Why do you think Frostblood raids on Sudesia have always failed?”

  An invisible fist closed over my throat. Surely Arcus wouldn’t cave in to her demands?

  I’d been so intoxicated by the idea of finding my own people, I’d let myself believe I’d be welcomed with open arms. Instead, the queen was planning to use me to strike at Tempesia, which now suddenly seemed like home. If Arcus responded to her threats with aggression, there could be war. I felt so stupid—small and childish—for walking into their trap.

  I knew Arcus, though. He’d think through every eventuality, calculate the danger, and choose caution. He would never risk so much or trust so blindly.

  “He would never trade his people’s safety for me or any individual,” I said, trying to regain my composure, to sound calm and confident.

  “He will,” Kai countered. “I’d stake my life on it.”

  I clutched my hands together to keep from blasting him with fire.

  “You clearly wish to protect the king,” the queen observed. “Perhaps you plan to spy on me and take your information back to him.”

  “I am no spy. I am not your enemy.” I realized my warning about provoking the king had been interpreted as a threat. I took a shaky breath and tried to repair the damage. “The king has no ill intentions toward you. In fact, he has drawn up a peace treaty—”

  “Peace?” She leaned forward, her dark gaze so intent that I had an urge to take a step back. “When the Frost Court is wiped out, when Firebloods rule, when the last icy breath is expelled from the very last Frostblood, dissolving in air heated by the fire of my people, then, and only then, will we have peace. I vow to Sud that I will not rest, and my heirs will not rest, until that day.”

  The room had warmed, the air thick and cloying and humid. The queen’s wrath was fearsome in its relentless heat. Even to me.

  Her words were eerily similar to King Rasmus’s, her urge to wipe out Frostbloods much like his campaign against Firebloods. Terrified of what I might find, I put out mental feelers, but I couldn’t detect any hint of a menacing presence like the one in the frost throne. If the Minax wasn’t causing her bloodlust, then perhaps the queen was even more dangerous than the king had been.

  Nothing had gone as expected. I had crossed an ocean to get here, but I was n
o closer to completing my mission. The queen was furious, and she clearly wanted to take her anger out on me. The mention of peace had only incited her wrath.

  I needed to regain some control. Brother Thistle had told me to ingratiate myself with the queen and the masters.

  I took half a step forward. “I, too, burned for revenge against the Frostbloods, Your Majesty. I wanted to kill King Rasmus, and now he’s dead. Surely that proves something to you? I’ve done nothing to act against you.”

  “You came from Tempesia without my permission,” she replied coldly. “That is enough to earn you a place in my prison.”

  “She didn’t know our rules, my queen,” Kai broke in.

  “But you did,” Queen Nalani snapped. “Imprisonment might teach you about the value of obedience, a lesson you sorely need, Prince Kai.”

  “Very well, Your Majesty,” he said quickly, “but I ask that you give Ruby a chance to prove herself. I beg you and Prince Eiko to consider the matter carefully before you decide.”

  The man sitting next to the queen—Prince Eiko—leaned toward his wife. “My dearest, I must agree with the boy.” His eyes moved from her to me, his long, angular face drawn in serious, almost stark lines. His eyes narrowed speculatively, in a way that I didn’t like. “She may be useful to us in some way that is yet unclear.”

  Queen Nalani turned to him. “What use is she to me here? If the Frost King cares for her, I could never trust her.”

  “Perhaps if you tested her abilities,” Prince Eiko suggested, “you would find out whether she could serve you in some other capacity.” Though he argued in my favor, the intensity in his voice was unnerving.

  Queen Nalani’s gaze shifted back to me. “What prevented you from killing the king’s brother—King Arkanus? If you had done so, the succession would have been contested and it would have thrown the kingdom into chaos. Barring that, you could have been my spy. You would have served me better by undermining the Frost Court from within.”