by Elly Blake
“As if I would ever thank my god for you, a Fireblood! She’s a traitor, a saboteur!” Her head swiveled to the council. “You must believe me. She will destroy us. Imprison her! Burn her!”
“How thoughtful,” I said as I massaged my sore neck. “I haven’t been warm since I returned to Tempesia.”
Her reply was an enraged bellow.
“Lady Blanding!” Arcus thundered. “Calm yourself.”
As if summoned to enact his part in the farce, Lord Blanding appeared in the doorway, his graying hair unkempt. His doublet was torn wide open at the shoulder, exposing a scar. I eyed the semicircle with a sense of dawning recognition. It was the same shape I’d seen on Brother Lack’s seal, and on Marella in my vision.
“Unhand my wife!” Lord Blanding demanded. “I am a member of the council and I demand that this Fireblood saboteur face trial for her attack on the Frost Court.”
I crossed my arms, striving to remain calm. The Minax was soaking up the angst and fury in the room, practically vibrating with glee at all the turmoil.
“Admit it!” Lord Blanding persisted. “We were like puppets in your hands. You used your terrible darkness to make us turn on one another.”
That was entirely the point—was what I meant to say. Instead, without thinking, I muttered, “Maybe your wife just doesn’t like you.”
Lady Blanding gasped and lunged toward me, held back by the two council members. “You are the darkness that taints our kingdom. Once we execute you, we’ll be rid of your contamination.”
Icy waves of anger flowed from the king, but I hardly noticed. With every threat, I lost a bit of control. “If you kill me, you’ll release the curse.” I took a step toward her. “Would you like a taste of how that truly feels?”
I was barely holding on to my temper, losing the battle against the Minax. My mind clouded with euphoria, the promise of violence. She thought I was contaminated? If only she could feel the full force of the creature tearing a hole through her mind. It would prey on her weak, nasty heart with nary an obstacle to stop its progress. It would use her up and spit her out.
Yes, yes, the Minax hissed. Release us! She will feed us with her hatred and fear. She will pay for trying to hurt you with her life!
“You don’t scare me!” Lady Blanding crowed, unaware of the danger. “You are nothing but a Fireblood peasant, a dirty bit of provincial scum that clawed her way into the king’s bed—”
Her hat burst into flames. She screamed and shook her head wildly, making the fire spread. Lord Blanding leaped forward, batting at the flaming monstrosity with a frost-coated hand.
I narrowed my eyes, concentrating, controlling the fire with a thought and a wiggle of my fingers. As Lord Blanding whacked at the headpiece, Lady Blanding struggled to remove it. No matter how zealously they attacked, flames kept cropping up to replace the doused ones.
I hid a smile. Never mind the arena. This was entertainment.
“Lambert, you’re hurting me!” The lady clouted her husband in the cheek. As he reeled back, he managed to yank the hat free. He dropped it and trampled it underfoot as if stamping on a giant spider.
My hearty laugh bubbled up and escaped before I could stop it.
A cold hand clamped on my arm. I turned.
Arcus’s eyes were glacial. “I will meet you in the ice garden as soon as I’m finished here. You are excused from this meeting.”
His tone was forceful, domineering. A shamed, angry flush spread up my neck.
I struggled for control. “Very well.”
The Minax protested, No, no! Set me free!
Arcus released my arm. It took a great effort not to follow the creature’s advice.
As I passed Lady Blanding, she made another grab for me. “I swear to you, I’ll—”
I reached out and shackled her wrists in my hot grip, feeling the brittle bones beneath my fingers. The Minax sensed the connection and moved to the point where we touched. I shook with the effort of keeping it contained.
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” I warned, low and silky, my eyes full of threat. The shadows drifted farther, darkening the skin of her wrists like a bruise.
“I always knew your kind would be the end of us.” Her words rasped, her pupils dilating. “That’s why we had to do something.”
“Silence, Eleanna!” Lord Blanding bellowed.
“You did do something, didn’t you?” I’d suspected her before, but now I’d make her confess.
I let the Minax seep into her skin. I enjoyed its satisfaction as it settled into her, sponging up her anger and a good dose of fear. Make her tell the truth, I commanded. It weakened her resistance, blurred her resolve, tampered with her judgment. It opened the door for me.
“You joined the Blue Legion,” I stated.
“No,” she spat.
Lord Blanding sagged with relief.
Until she added, “We didn’t join. We started it! We are among the founding members.” She lifted her chin defiantly to the sound of shocked gasps.
The Minax lurked inside her mind, fanning her righteous fury and muddling her thoughts. Her caution, her reason, her sense of self-preservation—those had been locked away. Only later would she realize what she’d said, when it was too late.
“You ordered the assassination of King Arkanus,” I stated, shaking at the thought of Arcus’s burns, his pain, how close he’d come to death.
Lord Blanding begged his wife to be silent. She smiled, oblivious. “Yes, we did. The first time, we hired a Fireblood assassin to make it look like part of the southern rebellion. But the incompetent fool didn’t do the job properly. The next time, at the ball, we made it look like an attack by a foreign dignitary. Or we would have, if you hadn’t fought our people off.”
“I was supposed to die, too,” I said. It wasn’t a question.
“Of course you were! And after your deaths, we could restore this kingdom to its former glory. We did what no one else had the courage to do.”
Her eyes glowed with the fervid conviction of a zealot. She was proud of what they’d done as she continued. “We would have installed one of our people on the throne, and no one would have questioned us. We would have had complete control.”
“Then what?” I asked with ferocious calm.
“We would have built up our navy and attacked Sudesia. We would have wiped out you Firebloods once and for all.”
Rage tore through me with the force of a white-hot blade. I wanted to strike a killing blow.
“Ruby,” Arcus said with quiet force.
I took a shaky breath and looked around. Judging by the shocked expressions of the council, they’d heard enough.
Return to me, I ordered, and the Minax snapped back into my heart.
Lady Blanding blinked in shock, her head swinging as she saw everyone staring at her. “What… what did I say?”
“You just admitted to treason,” I said, my voice shaking.
The creature basked in my fury, urging me to make her pay—make them all pay. Bloodlust sang through my veins. Fire built in my heart.
Arcus bent to whisper in my ear, his cool breath on my cheek. The sensation and the sound were enough to snap me out of my trance. “Ruby, go! Go. Now.”
Without sparing a glance at the council, I swept out, my hot breath steaming as I strode through the icy halls.
FIFTEEN
I SEETHED MY WAY THROUGH THE corridors, up the curving staircase, and into the ballroom. The echoing space was just as I remembered it. Icy pillars rose toward coldly glittering chandeliers. Even the floor was coated with a layer of lacy frost.
Ugh! Ice, everywhere I looked!
Agitated, furious, I searched for a way to spend my rage. A faded tapestry showed a group of mounted nobles hunting a stag. Each hunter held a spear made of ice. Without hesitation, I rushed over and ripped it from the wall, barely resisting the urge to burn it. As it tumbled to the floor, I kicked a wooden side table. It slid sideways and crashed into the wall with a crunch.
I eyed the chandeliers. They would come down with a few well-placed gouts of fire. Before I’d even consciously decided, my hand was throwing flames, the delicate crystalline ice shattering into a thousand pieces.
I hated the Blandings, longed to punish them for what they’d done, and Arcus had robbed me of my revenge! They had planned to usurp his throne and destroy my people, and he’d ordered me out as if I’d done something wrong. As if I were a servant or… or one of his obedient frost wolves!
Don’t waste your fire here. Quickly, now! Go back! Burn them! Make them pay!
No—I didn’t want that! Shaking my head to clear it, I rushed to the glass double doors leading to the garden. It wasn’t until I swept outside and inhaled a stabbing lungful of air that I began to calm. I leaned against the frigid castle wall for several minutes, taking deep, shuddering breaths.
The Minax’s muttering grew faint until it was drowned out by my own thoughts.
Breathe, I told myself. Think. Use your head instead of your burning heart.
Arcus hadn’t berated me for my stunt in the arena, at least not in front of anyone. He’d trusted me with his council. He’d left it up to me to convince them. It wasn’t his fault that I’d lost my head. My need to fire back—literally, in this case—had been more important than my desire to win them over.
The provocation had been monumental. But still, it was my own frayed temper that had led to the rise of the Minax. I might have lost the council’s trust as a result. Even now, they could be voting against the alliance.
I pounded a fist against the cold stone wall, my anger turning inward.
If Arcus hadn’t realized the state I was in and ordered me out, there was no telling what I might have done. He’d seen the danger when I was too far gone to care. If anything, I should thank him.
Not that I was ready to do so. I still hated the Blandings. I still wanted revenge.
I blew out a breath. I was still too hot, the lid on my boiling temper rattling dangerously, ready to fly off. I needed time to simmer, time to cool.
The ice garden was the perfect place to cool my temper. How well Arcus knew me, sending me here.
My mind cleared a bit as I ambled down the gravel path, which was cleared of everything but a thin dusting of snow. I finally took in my surroundings.
When I noticed the state of the garden, I stiffened in shock. It was a disaster.
Arcus had spent hours and hours over a period of weeks making trees, shrubs, and flowers out of ice, sculpting each plant with care. He’d wanted to show me that ice could be shaped and molded into something lovely, in the same way he was willing to change for me.
It wasn’t lovely anymore.
The trees were branchless. Shrubs were shattered. Flowers lay in gleaming shards embedded in snow.
My stomach clenched. The destruction looked deliberate. There were no soft edges or irregular shapes to indicate melting. It was as if someone had taken a hammer to the fragile creations.
I picked up the remains of a delicate ice rose and rubbed it against my cheek, half anticipating the velvet softness of a petal. It started to melt as soon as it touched my skin.
My eyes grew moist. Arcus had faithfully created and shaped each leaf and stem. Someone had smashed everything as if it all meant nothing. As if I meant nothing. As if he did.
I winced when I recalled my little tantrum in the ballroom. There was a similarity I didn’t want to consider.
No doubt the garden had been destroyed by one of the Blue Legion. They’d hated us enough to order our assassinations, so what was a little ice in comparison? It seemed symbolic, though, as if our hopes for peace and safety were here, broken and scattered. The Blue Legion was against us. Eurus was against us.
The world was against us.
I sat on a stone bench, resting my elbows on my knees, and examined the glittering wreckage.
It wasn’t a garden anymore. It was a graveyard.
Time passed in whispered breezes and the tinkling of broken ice—gentle requiems for lost beauty. All my anger drained away, and I was left numb.
After a while, I heard the door to the ballroom open and close. Footsteps crunched over gravel. A soft exhalation stirred the air over my head. I dropped my hands and straightened but didn’t lift my head.
Arcus sat on the bench, not touching me. The inches between us felt like miles. When the silence lengthened, I looked up. There were dark circles under his eyes. His face was drawn.
Why hadn’t I noticed that he looked as tired as I felt?
He glanced around, taking inventory. His voice was low and rough, his tone frustrated but resigned. “If I’d known someone had wrecked your garden, I wouldn’t have sent you out here. This is damn depressing.”
“It’s an outrage,” I said, but I couldn’t quite summon the rage I’d felt earlier. “You should add the culprit to the list of traitors.”
“Trial and execution!” he mocked in a fair imitation of Lord Blanding.
A bitter smile curled my lips. “I’m looking forward to the part where they try to burn me. I plan to smile at them through the flames.”
“No one is going to be burned.” He sighed, his smirk turning into a frown. “However, there will be executions. I’d suspected their involvement for a long time, but it simplifies things now that Lady Blanding has confessed.”
I almost pointed out that I’d done him a favor by setting her on fire, but it didn’t seem like the right moment. His next words confirmed it. After a pause, he said flatly, “I’m angry at you, Ruby.”
Ah, so it was to be his cold, contained anger. The kind I hated. “I expected you would be.”
Without a hint of a smile, his rugged face looked especially forbidding. Every bit the displeased monarch. “What you did in the arena was dangerous. You shouldn’t have attempted something that could hurt my subjects, or yourself. You lied to me!”
I took a breath, my stomach twisting at that last part. “You’re right, I did mislead you. You wouldn’t have agreed to the demonstration, and I thought it was necessary. I still do.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “So you don’t regret what you did. You’re not even sorry.”
I weighed my words, wanting to be truthful. “I’m sorry that I misled you. I didn’t like doing that. But if I had to do it all over again, I would.”
His jaw turned to granite. “How would you feel if I said that to you? That I’d lied to you about something important, but I didn’t regret it?”
I met his cold stare dead-on. “Spitting mad.”
His eyes flickered with a hint of some emotion, and he puffed out a breath. “At least you’re honest. Now.”
Ouch. Fair enough.
He faced forward, giving me his profile. “What would you have done if you’d lost control? What if something… irreversible had happened? What if someone had died?”
“The Fireblood masters were there to prevent that. Kai instructed them to step in if anything went wrong. But I was confident I could keep the Minax under control.”
“And did you?”
“For the most part. Kai was there to rein me in when I started to slip.”
He turned back to me with narrowed eyes. “Oh, Kai was there. I feel much better. What happened exactly? I want details, Ruby.”
I told him everything I could remember, but minimized the euphoria I felt as I wielded the Minax. Still, what he heard was apparently enough to draw his ire. As I spoke, a pulse throbbed in his jaw. His gaze turned polar.
“You—” He bit off the rest, pushed up from the bench, and paced. Broken ice crunched with each step, underscoring his words. He gestured wildly as he spoke. “Do you know how many things could have gone wrong?” He turned and stared at me with a furrowed brow, shaking his head. That vein in his jaw looked like it might burst any second. “It’s one thing to take calculated risks, but you throw yourself into situations where the risks can’t even be measured.”
What could I say? “I see an opportun
ity, and I take it. Sometimes it pays off.”
He laughed harshly. “How wonderful to have such confidence, such glib assurance that everything will work out.”
That nicked my temper. “I am not glib or overconfident. I weigh options and make decisions, sometimes difficult ones that I hate. I might be impetuous, but don’t paint me as uncaring or foolish. I am neither.”
He snorted. “Highly debatable!”
I glared. If he wasn’t careful, he’d find out just how foolish I could be.
He folded his arms and peered down at me as if trying very hard to understand a mystery. I saw the moment when he stopped trying, his eyes emptying of anger and showing something softer, darker, and harder to interpret. “The truth is, you scare the life out of me, Lady Firebrand.”
The note of sadness in Arcus’s voice got to me more than any of his anger. I swallowed and looked down, hiding my hurt.
The ice rose had melted, and the water had dripped through my fingers, leaving them cold and wet. I wiped my hands on my skirt and lifted my chin.
“I can’t deny I’m impulsive sometimes, but I don’t think I could change that about myself, even if I wanted to.”
He stepped forward, and his hand came out to cradle my chin. The intensity in his eyes made them more vivid than the sky. “Ruby, I don’t want you to be anything other than who you are.”
Unable to meet that intense stare for long, I lowered my gaze. Oh, Arcus, if only you knew what I’m turning into.
The nightmares, the impulses, the fevered imaginings of shadows and blood and death. If he knew what I was really like inside, would he touch me so reverently? Or would he push me away? Would he order me to leave and never come back?
I swallowed. He’d said the words I’d always longed to hear: that I was accepted for exactly who I was. And yet, I couldn’t trust them, because he didn’t know me. Not anymore.
I wouldn’t change a thing about you, either, I wanted to say.
But my throat was too tight, and by the time I could speak, different words came out. “Then why are we fighting?”
He dropped his hand and it curled into a fist. “Because you putting yourself in danger terrifies me, and yet you do it all the time.”