Heart of Fire

by Kristen Painter

  Judging from the lights still burning in the great hall and the amount of people milling about, something significant had happened. He handed Dragon off to a stable boy and strode inside. He headed for the king’s quarters, nearly colliding with Laythan on the stairs.

  “Prince Ertemis, we thought you were gone.” He rubbed his brow.

  “What happened to Jessalyne?” Ertemis clenched his fists at his side.

  “How did you—”

  “What. Happened. To. Jessalyne.”

  Laythan’s face blanched. “She’s gone.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Three grown men hovered over a small blue female.

  “Oww!” Fynna squirmed.

  “Fynna, please hold still. Your head needs to be bandaged.” Laythan tried again to clean the cut near her temple.

  Raythus patted her knee. “Be brave, little one.”

  “Here, squeeze my hand when it hurts.” Ertemis went down on one knee beside the chaise and offered his hand. She grabbed his first two fingers, gripping them as Laythan continued his ministrations.

  “Almost done.” He spread salve over her wound and then wrapped a swath of linen around her head and tied it off. “There. You can stop cutting off the prince’s circulation.”

  “She’s barely touching me.” He slid onto the chaise next to Fynna. “Do you feel up to telling me what happened?”

  “Mm-hmm.” A sob hiccupped through her and she worried the hem of her tunic as she spoke.

  “Jessalyne had already gone to bed when I decided to go to the kitchen for a snack. When I came back, our door was open a little and I heard noises, like a scuffle. I shoved the door open and someone was standing over Jessalyne, holding her down on the bed with a cloth over her face. I ran in, and they hit me and knocked me down. Before I could get up, they held the cloth over my face and I must have passed out.

  “Did you get a look at their face at all?”

  “No. They had a dark cloak on and a scarf wrapped around their face.” She started to weep. “I’m sorry. I should have yelled for help.”

  “It’s okay, Fynna. You tried to help. Do you remember anything else?”

  “No, I’m sorry. Maybe I will when my head stops hurting.”

  He turned to look at Laythan and Raythus. “Has the substance on the cloth been identified?”

  Laythan nodded. “Fynna knew it immediately.”

  Ertemis looked at her, trying to maintain his patience. He should be out searching for Jessalyne. “What was it?”

  “Bitterlace. I’d recognize it anywhere. Sryka used it to stun all manner of insects and rodents.”

  “Did you touch the intruder at all?”

  “I grabbed a good handful of their cloak before they hit me.”

  “Which hand?”

  “My left.”

  Ertemis lifted her hand to his face and inhaled. The scent hit him hard and he growled, low and throaty. Fynna snatched her hand away.

  He looked up at his father, his face contorted with rage. “Erebus.”

  Raythus turned to the guard awaiting orders near the parlor entrance. “Take another guard with you to the dungeons and bring Sryka back to me. We will see what she knows.” He scowled. “If Erebus is indeed responsible for this…”

  Ertemis stood, his hand on his sword. “If he has harmed Jessalyne, blood or not, I will kill him.”

  Raythus nodded. “It doesn’t make me happy but I understand.” The parlor doors opened and they all turned.

  Two pages entered with breakfast trays, doing their best not to look overcurious about what was going on. They did a quick bow and placed the trays on the table, lifting the silver covers off and stepping back.

  “Son, you should eat. You will need your strength.”

  “I don’t much feel like it but I agree. I will also need food to take with me.” He went to the table and bolted down a few mouthfuls of meat and cheese.

  Raythus spoke to the older page. “Have cook fix a parcel of food for traveling and have it sent to the stables for Dragon’s packs. Tell her it’s for the crown prince.”

  The pages bowed and barely avoided being knocked down on their way out by the king’s guard rushing in.

  “Sryka’s gone, your majesty. The night guard’s had his throat slit and the door to her cell was unlocked. There’s nigh a trace of her.”

  Ertemis threw down the morsel of meat in his hand. “Blast it! They are in league. Where I find one, I will find both. And there I will find Jessalyne.”

  Raythus held up his hands in dismay. “But we’ve no idea where they’ve gone.”

  Ertemis turned to Fynna, who’d found her way to the table. Her mouth was full of bread and both hands held more food.

  “Do you recall seeing a dagger among Jessalyne’s things? She used to wear it on her belt.”

  Fynna nodded, swallowing before answering. “She stopped wearing it after she arrived here. It’s tucked away in her things.”

  “Do you feel well enough to find it and bring it to me at the stables?”

  “Of course!” With a flutter of her wings, she lifted off the floor and hovered for a moment. “I’ll be right there.” She snagged one last slice of bread before flying out of the room.

  Ertemis clasped his father’s forearm. “I will explain when I return. Brynden should be arriving with my mother by midday. I must go after Jessalyne.”

  “My prayers go with you that you both come home safe.”

  * * *

  Ertemis had finished saddling Dragon when Fynna flew in, dagger in hand.

  “I found it.”

  Ertemis reached for it but she pulled away, hovering just beyond his reach.

  “I have no time for games, pixie.”

  Fynna floated back, a little less sure. “I want to come with you.”

  “Nay. This is my business. I will deal with it as I see fit.”

  “Jessalyne is my best friend. I am coming with you.”

  “You will slow me down.”

  “I can fly faster than your horse can run.”

  “Your head is still bandaged. You need rest.”

  “Did you sleep last night?”

  “Are you always this infuriating?”

  “You have no idea.”

  He cursed. “Fine. Give me the dagger. Now.”

  She handed it over, her wings a blur of color as she waited for him to finish.

  Just as he was about to mount, a voice called out to him. “Has the wedding been cancelled?”

  Ertemis looked up. “Valduuk.”

  “Who else? Or were there other trolls invited?”

  “I did not expect you to arrive so soon.” He alighted Dragon’s back.

  Valduuk narrowed his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “Jessalyne’s been kidnapped by my half brother and the king’s magewoman. I go to hunt them down and bring her back.”

  Valduuk eyed Fynna. “If that’s the best muscle this city has to offer, I think I’ll come along.”

  “Jessalyne is my friend. She needs me,” Fynna said.

  “My apologies, mistress pixie, I meant only to offer my services to my legion brother, not to slight you.”

  “Enough! You two can chatter while we move.” He nudged Dragon and rode past them toward the castle gates. They quickly caught up.

  Fynna gave Valduuk a once over. “I’m Fynna.” She held out her hand as she hovered along at his eye level.

  Valduuk bowed as he lifted her tiny hand with one finger, brushing his lips across it. “I wish we were meeting under better circumstances, Mistress Fynna. I am Valduuk. I must tell you, I have never seen a more beautiful shade of blue.”

  Outside the city walls, Ertemis brought them to a stop and extracted the dagger. With the handle firmly in hand, Ertemis called up his love’s imprinted heartbeat, meshing it with his until the two harmonized as one. He turned in a slow circle until the lunestone came alive with a lambent glow.

  “How did you do that?” Fynna asked.

/>   “I didn’t do. Jessalyne did.”

  Fynna scrunched up her face in confusion. “You aren’t making sense.”

  “Her heartbeat is imprinted into my memory. When I adjust my heart’s rhythm to hers this dagger reacts as though Jessalyne’s holding it. Somehow it knows the way to Sryka, and where Sryka is, Jessalyne will be. I feel it.”

  “Can’t you just listen for her heartbeat? You’ve found me that way in battle several times,” Valduuk said.

  Ertemis’s fought to keep his emotion from his words. The clearest head in battle usually won. “I tried. It’s too faint. Whatever Erebus and Sryka have done to her, they will pay.” He nudged Dragon forward.

  Fynna shuddered. Valduuk looked at her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Sryka.” Fynna spit. “She is a mean, spiteful, evil hag. She stole my wings but Jessalyne got them back for me.”

  Valduuk raised one bushy brow. “I’ll see she gets what’s coming to her.”

  “If she’s hurt Jessalyne, all you’ll have to deal with is scraps.” Ertemis pointed north. “We follow the line of the dagger.”

  Valduuk grunted. “The land beyond Shaldar’s borders is dangerous territory. How far north do you think they went?”

  “Since when does danger bother you? Tavern keeper’s life making you soft?”

  With a fierce growl, Valduuk threw his shoulders back exposing a leather band laden with throwing stars strapped across his chest. He put one hand on his broadsword and the other on his battle-axe. “I live for madness and mayhem.”

  “Good, I have the feeling you’re about to get your fill.” Ertemis shot him a curious look. “By the way, Valduuk, since when do you attend a royal wedding wearing every weapon you own?”

  Valduuk smiled, revealing rows of razor sharp teeth. “Firstly, this is only half of what I own. And secondly, if a woman can tame you, I’m taking every precaution available.”

  * * *

  Jessalyne woke cold and bruised. Her mouth parched as sand. Utter darkness surrounded her. She shivered. Dampness wicked into her from the hard, gritty ground. Every joint ached. She licked her lips and tasted blood. Something reeked like rotting flesh. Groaning, she remembered the cloaked man in her room. He’d hit her across the face when she’d kicked him in the gut. Right before he’d clamped a rag soaked in bitterlace over her nose and mouth.

  She tried to sit only to find her hands chained behind her back. Following the links around with her fingers, she felt where it looped through a ring sunk into the stone floor. Tugging, she tested it. Solid as the stone beneath her.

  The clank of her constraints being tried brought footsteps down a set of nearby stairs and a bright light. A door was unlocked. Slices of light danced through the bars, but the figure holding the lantern was indiscernible. Jessalyne squinted as the blazing lantern bobbed closer but still couldn’t see who held it. She glanced away and something sparkled, catching her eye. A circle of crystals surrounded her.

  “Ah, good. You’re finally awake. I’ll fetch Mistress Sryka.”

  Jessalyne shook her head to clear the lingering fog of bitterlace. Whoever it was sounded exactly like Salena.

  “Oh and another thing. I’m supposed to tell you not to try your magic while you’re in the circle. Mistress Sryka says you’ll just burn yourself up and that wouldn’t do anyone any good.”

  “Salena?”

  “That’s right, you pasty-faced wretch. Don’t worry, you’ll still get to marry a prince. But not that bastard creature the old man claims is his son. You’re going to marry the real prince, Prince Erebus. Of course, when Mistress Sryka is done with you, you won’t remember a thing and I’ll be the one warming his bed every night.” Salena laughed as she left, locking the door behind her.

  Jessalyne’s hip was numb from lying on the cold stone. She struggled to move, trying to bring some circulation back. As her eyes readjusted to the lack of light, she stretched out her legs, reaching one foot toward the circle of crystals. Too far away to touch.

  Although her hands were chained, she managed to conjure a small ball of cold fire. The cell holding her was more like a stone cave with a barred front. In a desperate move, she flung the ball of flames toward the crystals. The fire flattened against an invisible wall and washed back over her. Salena had told the truth.

  Jessalyne lay in the dark, searching her brain for a solution. Before she thought of anything, more footsteps and the familiar thump of Sryka’s staff announced the old mage. Her lantern shone through the bars. Sryka entered slowly, her discomfort obvious. Holding another lantern, Prince Erebus strode past Sryka to leer at Jessalyne.

  “Your magic won’t save you now, wench.” He circled her, his lecherous grin widening. With a glance back at Sryka, he set his lantern down and stepped into the crystal circle. He yanked Jessalyne to a sitting position and caught her chin in his hand. He rested his free hand on her bare ankle, his fingers caressing her skin. The fear growing in her belly blossomed into anger. He leaned closer, his breath hot on her face. “So soft…so smooth…such a shame to waste such pretty flesh on that half-blood animal.” His hand slid further up her leg and he leaned closer still.

  Too late, Jessalyne realized he meant to kiss her.

  Kneading her thigh, he smashed his fleshy mouth against hers. The anger smoldering in her gut flared and a bolt of white-hot rage shot through her as she twisted her head away. With no reason to hide her powers any longer, every inch of her came aglow as though she’d been doused in flames.

  Erebus yowled. The stone chamber amplified the sound. His head snapped back, shock in his eyes. He held his hands in the light of the lantern. Blisters covered him wherever his skin had touched hers. He gingerly ran his fingers over his lips, feeling the blisters there, too.

  “Witch! What have you done to me?”

  Jessalyne glared at him through pale wisps of hair, defiantly lifting her chin. “Touch me again and I’ll fill your boots with ashes.”

  Erebus backhanded her across the mouth. She pitched, her shoulder slamming into the stone. The coppery tang of blood filled her mouth and she spat it out, keeping her eyes on Erebus.

  She lunged forward, hissing at Erebus like a cat. The chains snapped her back, but still he recoiled, tripping over his feet to get back outside the crystal circle.

  Chest heaving, he glowered at Sryka. “You told me her powers were useless in the circle.”

  “To those outside it. You chose to step inside.” Sryka smirked at him.

  Erebus scowled. “Call me when you are prepared to give her the Oath, then bind her powers. I want this marriage sealed and consummated before sun up.”

  He snatched his lantern, yelping as the handle bit into his scorched skin. Cursing, he stormed out, kicking the metal door shut. With the clang of metal ringing in her ears, Jessalyne barely heard the laughter coming out of Sryka.

  * * *

  Fynna crested the ridge first, followed by Valduuk and Ertemis.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it,” she murmured.

  “I’d hoped never to see it again.” Valduuk shook his head.

  Ertemis glanced at the dagger’s softly pulsing lunestone. “Aye. One venture into Scythe is one more than a person needs in their lifetime.”

  Rusted pinnacles of iron ore punctured a glowering sky and billows of yellow steam leaked from fissures in the ground. The occasional waft of vapor brought the stench of sulfur.

  “This is Scythe?” Fynna came to rest at Valduuk’s feet. She sat, staring out over the hellish landscape before them.

  “Aye. Hael on earth and home of the Akuza.” Ertemis dismounted. “We must be close. Erebus is too cowardly to travel far beyond Shaldar’s borders.”

  Valduuk shrugged. “Unless he’s made an arrangement with the Akuza.”

  “They would spit him and roast him for dinner before that happened.”

  “That is a likely possibility.”

  “Do they eat pixies?” Fynna stared at her male companions.

  “
They eat just about anything they can get their hands on. The Akuza aren’t fussy.” Ertemis pulled a linen handkerchief from his pack and tied it around the lower half of his face.

  “I don’t suppose we’re allies with them?”

  “The Akuza have no allies.”

  Shivering, Fynna moved closer to Valduuk. “I can believe Sryka would come to a place like this but Erebus?” She shook her head. “Poor Jessalyne.”

  “Let’s just hope we find her before the Akuza realize they have company.”

  Picking their way through the jagged rubble and spurts of hot sulfuric steam, the trio hiked deeper into Scythe. The sky roiled with green gray clouds and despite the heat from the fissures, lastlight brought a cold dampness. Even with the linen square as a mask, the fumes rendered his elven sense of smell useless.

  Had he been able to see the night sky through the foul mist clinging to the land, Ertemis knew he would have seen the first stars twinkling through. The thought made him sick for Jessalyne. He ached to be back on the wall walk with her, counting stars and naming constellations. He imagined her silky hair filling his hands and the sweet press of her kiss.

  With renewed determination, he listened for her heartbeat, praying the silence filling his ears would be met with a gentle thumping if he just listened harder. The faint pulse he had clung to since the castle was completely gone.

  * * *

  Sryka watched Jessalyne for a moment before she spoke. “I am sorry for the pain he caused you. I would not have had you harmed but then I couldn’t give him a reason to suspect anything, could I?”

  “Since when do you care what happens to anyone but yourself?” Jessalyne eyed the old crone suspiciously.

  Leaning heavily on her staff, she moved a bit closer to where Jessalyne lay. “Hah! You think I care for you? You poor deluded child. I simply don’t want my new body damaged. I’d hate to spend the first few weeks of my newfound youth healing from some unnecessary injuries.”

  Jessalyne struggled to sit up, wincing at the pain in her shoulder. “What are you talking about?”