by Elly Blake
“You go too far,” I warned.
Danger. Threat. The Minax writhed inside me. Silence her.
I looked down at my clenched hands. My veins had darkened to the color of dried blood. Catching Lucina’s look, I folded my arms, hiding my hands.
“Ruby?” Her head tilted, and her white brows drew together. “Ruby, look at me.”
No. Don’t listen to her.
“Ruby,” she said more urgently. “Please let me see your wrist.” She reached out a hand.
“Stay away!” I warned, baring my teeth.
She faltered, her eyes fixing on me in startled confusion, which quickly changed into understanding. Instead of moving away, she inched closer. “What a fool I’ve been. My gift is weak from my time in the cell, or I would have known right away. Even now, you carry the Minax.”
I stepped backward, suddenly desperate to get away from her.
With a speed that surprised me, she lunged at me with an outstretched hand.
“No!” I reared back, but my escape was blocked by the closed door.
As her fingers touched mine, white-hot pain lanced into my veins. My muscles knotted, my breath leaving my lungs in a sudden burst. The world became a haze.
The Minax writhed in shared agony. Pain was my marrow.
My body jerked as if lightning ran through me, dislodging her hand. When my vision cleared, I found that I was crouched against the door. Lucina stood looking down on me, her red-veined hand covering her mouth. She finally stepped back.
“It is worse than I thought,” she whispered.
I pushed up on unsteady legs and threw open the door, pausing only to say in a low, warning tone, “If you ever touch me again, I will break you.”
TWENTY-FIVE
I LEANED AGAINST THE WALL OUTSIDE Arcus’s cabin, the creature’s turbulence straining my nerves to their snapping point.
Again and again, I ordered the Minax into submission. Finally, it snarled weakly and curled up in a snug ball of darkness—like a feral cat that has entered a fight brave and fearless but ended up bloody and beaten. It gave a small, protesting mewl and fell dormant.
When my mind cleared, I realized what a coward I’d been. Ever since I’d first learned about the curse in the thrones, I’d had so many questions. Answers had been hard won. I’d voyaged all the way to Sudesia just to get a book we thought might have information we needed. Now Sage herself was in a room only a few feet away.
The more I thought about it, the more it made sense that she was Sage. Her touch had all but proved it. Only someone filled with Cirrus’s light would have hurt me that much. Hurt the Minax, I corrected myself. We are not the same.
Maybe, I thought in a burst of insight, that’s why I’d had such a high fever after my vision of Cirrus. The goddess was filled with light, and my blood ran with shadows. The two were, by nature, incompatible.
I no longer needed visions to get answers. Cirrus had led me to Lucina, who knew the location of the Isle of Night.
And I had run from her.
Decision made, I tested my shaky legs and, finding them solid, set out for the main deck. When I emerged from the companionway, the air was filled with light snow flurries that softened the scene, making everything seem slightly blurred. Kai raised his brows when I trudged up the steps to the quarterdeck. I wrapped my hand around his upper arm and tugged. “Come with me. It’s important.”
“Is Marella awake?” he asked, instructing his first mate to take the helm before following me down the steps.
I shook my head, not wanting to explain it all just yet.
When Kai and I entered the cabin, Lucina was sitting in the wooden chair between the two beds.
“Which name do you prefer?” I asked without preamble. “Sage or Lucina?”
Her lips curved up in a small smile, deepening the lines under her eyes—a record of countless smiles in her past. “Lucina. Please.”
“Lucina, allow me to introduce Prince Kai, my friend and the captain of this ship.”
She turned her smile on him, warm and genuine. “Pleased to meet you. Any friend of Ruby’s is a friend of mine.”
“I’m of the same mind,” he said with a cordial bow, still looking confused as to why I’d rushed him there.
I moved to sit at the foot of the empty bed. “Now, tell us, Lucina, where is the Isle of Night?”
Kai listened intently, asking questions as she described an area less than a week away. The details of navigation went over my head, but I could sense his growing excitement.
He turned to me with bright eyes. “This is more than we dared hope for. Exact coordinates. We can send a ship to alert the Tempesian navy, and have them send messenger ships to alert Queen Nalani’s fleet as well.”
“We should thank Cirrus for leading us to the one person who could steer us true,” I replied, knowing Lucina would be pleased at my comment.
“I suppose we wait for both fleets before we proceed?” Kai asked, his eyes drifting to Marella’s sleeping form.
“That’s the plan,” I said.
Lucina lifted a hand. “If I may… are you sure you want to delay that long? The ice thickens every day in the passage to the northern sea. I know the area well. We can sail ahead and keep a low profile until your fleets arrive.”
“And what if the Servants are there waiting for us?” I asked.
“I cannot be sure,” said Lucina, “but I do not think they are there, not yet.”
“Still,” I said, “Arcus would want to wait for his ships and soldiers. He wouldn’t want us knocking on Eurus’s door without an army behind us.”
“There’s no harm in moving closer as long as we’re careful,” Kai suggested.
“If I have any visions of the Servants reaching the island, I will let you know immediately,” Lucina assured us.
“Can you count on your visions to tell you?”
“Not always. But I fear we risk more in waiting than we would in proceeding.”
I looked at Kai. “What do you think? Maybe a ship can scout ahead to warn us of danger?”
Kai nodded and stood. “I’ll alert the crew and send instructions to the messenger and scout ships. In the meantime, we can at least move closer to the island.”
After he’d bounded off to set our new course, an awkward silence fell. Marella’s even breathing was the only sound in the cabin.
“You came back,” Lucina said softly.
I took a breath. “I need information, and I won’t learn anything by avoiding you.”
Her eyes beamed warmth. “I’m glad you returned to me, for whatever reason.”
She stared at me as I pleated the edge of my tunic between my fingers.
“You fear me,” she said with a hint of sadness.
“As long as you don’t touch me again, we’ll get along fine.” I hadn’t meant it to sound like a warning, but I wanted us to be clear. I couldn’t bear that pain again.
Her mouth twisted, but then she smiled. “I forgot what a cheeky thing you are.” Her grin widened. “If anything, you’ve grown more so over the years.”
“Would my mother have disapproved?” I often wondered what my mother would think of me now.
“Do you know about your mother?” she asked hesitantly, her head tilted to the side.
“That she was a Sudesian princess?” I smiled at her look of surprise. “Queen Nalani told me everything.”
She took a moment to absorb that. “Then you should know that she would have been proud of you for standing up for yourself. She was a Fireblood, after all. In every way.”
I chuckled. “Her temper didn’t show very often, but when it did, watch out!”
She grinned. “It made her a better healer, you know, the ability to be intimidating as well as kind. Her patients heeded her instructions or they faced her wrath.”
My laugh was freer now. “I remember one time, the butcher came to her with a deep cut on his hand. She was trying to sew him up, but he kept moaning and twitching. ‘Mr. Ha
uer,’ she said sternly, ‘if you continue to wave your hand around, I will be forced to sew it to your leg to keep it still.’ He stayed as still as a corpse after that.”
Lucina’s laughter joined mine.
She brought up another memory, which reminded me of something else. As we reminisced, there was a pain in my heart and an ache of tears behind my eyes, but it was a pain I welcomed, because I was remembering Mother with someone who had loved her, too.
“I miss her,” I said, the words inadequate to convey the depth of that aching, monumental loss.
“I’m so sorry. So very sorry. I wish I could have kept you both safe.”
I could only nod. “There was nothing you could have done.”
“I missed you both when I left. You have no idea how difficult that was.”
I could only imagine. It was hard enough leaving Arcus behind when I’d traveled to Sudesia.
“I’m sorry about the”—I waved my hand—“incident earlier.”
“Never mind that. It was not your fault. How long have you had the Minax in your heart, Ruby?”
The question was so blunt, I blinked. “A few months.”
“I confess, my visions prepared me for the fact that you would one day host the Minax, but you are even stronger than I thought. You hide it well. But then, you have many gifts.”
She radiated pride, which I found confusing in the circumstances. Being possessed didn’t seem like something to admire. “If you mean that literally, I have two gifts. I inherited my fire from my mother, and the Minax’s possession made me into a Nightblood.”
“I believe you have some abilities of a Sunblood: someone who can store and harness the power of light.”
I frowned. “How?”
“When you were only a few months old, I gave you some of my blood to counteract the effects of the Minax.”
“Why would you…? Wait, you’d better start at the beginning. How did you even know about me?”
“Eighteen years ago, Cirrus showed me a vision of you and your mother. She showed me what Eurus had done to the thrones, and what he planned: to groom you to be his Nightblood heir. You’d be able to host the Minax, but you’d ultimately be under his control. That would allow him the freedom to rule the mortal world through you, without technically breaking Neb’s law against direct personal interference.”
My hands rubbed my upper arms, up and down, trying to generate the warmth my heart seemed to lack. The things she’d said weren’t a complete surprise. I had wondered or guessed at them, but hearing the truth of Eurus’s plans for me made me feel chilled, dizzy. Sick to my stomach.
“So she showed you a vision, hoping you would help,” I said, hearing the slight tremor in my voice.
She nodded. “By the time I found you both, your mother was very ill from the possession. You, on the other hand, were healthy and bright eyed. However, I worried over you more.”
“Why?”
“While she was weakening, you were getting stronger. Even as a baby, you had a knowing look in your eyes that disturbed me. I urged her to leave Sudesia. The Minax was still bound to the throne through Eurus’s curse. If she left, she’d break the connection.”
“So she did?”
“Not right away. The Minax is like an infusion that gives strength and joy and a sense of power to its hosts. Instinctively, the hosts want to stay near it. After a while, they would feel lost without it.”
I knew that well. Arcus’s brother, King Rasmus, had chosen to die rather than live without the frost Minax. I’d also seen how weak Queen Nalani had been when her link with the fire Minax was broken. Sometimes I worried that when the time came, I wouldn’t be able to give up that sense of connection, the way the Minax pulled negative emotions away, numbed me when I hurt.
“In the end, your mother chose you.” Lucina’s gaze felt as warm as the rays of summer. “She even gave up her fire just to keep you safe.”
“Gave up her fire? What… how?”
“Fireblood emotions run hotter than most. Anger, fear, hate, and even passion or justifiable outrage—all of these were powerful triggers that allowed the creature to gain control. With her permission, I used sunlight to take away your mother’s gift so the Minax would have less power over her.”
“She chose to give up her gift for me.”
It was almost too shocking to believe. And yet, it all made sense now. Ever since I’d found out about my heritage, I had wondered how my mother could have been a Fireblood princess, when I had never seen any sign that she had the gift.
Lucina nodded. “Without her fire, she regained enough control to leave the island behind. We dressed as peasants and paid for passage on a merchant vessel bound for Tempesia.”
I shook my head in wonder, tears filling my eyes. She had loved me that much, enough to give up her gift for me. I couldn’t fathom what my life would be like without fire in my veins.
“Why didn’t she tell her parents where she was going?” I asked.
“She was afraid that knowledge of the curse would be dangerous for her father, the king. If he had known that the Minax would increase his gift, would he not use the power himself? Also, her parents would have done everything they could to bring her back, which would only return you to the curse.”
“She must have been so sad when she learned of her parents’ deaths.”
“It was very difficult. But I know she never regretted her decision. You meant more to her than anything.”
“Was it really worth it? She gave her life to protect me from the curse, and now…” I motioned to my chest. “Here I am. Cursed.”
“You are not cursed. You are a guardian, keeping the world safe from the Minax. In one scenario, you would be the victim. In another, you are in control.”
Shame heated my cheeks. I didn’t deserve her praise. I’d already displayed my lack of control earlier, threatening to kill her if she touched me, almost missing the opportunity to learn the location of the Isle of Night.
“Can you tell me about the Gate?” I asked. “How does Eurus plan to open it?”
“There is a crack that keeps appearing in the Gate, which I have continued to repair. The Servants captured me to prevent me from doing so. However, the flaw in the Gate isn’t big enough for the Minax to break through yet. I’m sure Eurus has a plan to speed up the process. He is in a mortal body with only Fireblood powers, so he cannot himself destroy something divine.”
“He said that he needed the Minax to defeat the sentinels. Is it true that they’re mountains that will come to life if the Gate is threatened?”
She chuckled. “Some of the stories say that the sentinels are the volcanoes near the Gate, enchanted to erupt if anyone comes near. I have never seen any evidence of that. The truth is that Cirrus never told anyone what they were, not even me. Even Eurus would have no way of knowing for sure until he attacks the Gate directly. Some speculate that the sentinels are people—guardians who will defend the Gate with their lives.”
“What do you believe?”
She hesitated. “I have defended the Gate for years. I think I am one of the sentinels. And I have a feeling the Child of Light is the other. I do not know who that is. I believe that if the Gate is threatened, the Child of Light will be there to protect it. As will I.”
“Do you know what’s causing the rift in the Gate?”
“I believe that every time a person is killed by the Minax, their spirit gets trapped in the Obscurum. And those spirits are trying to get free.”
“But that wouldn’t be very many spirits,” I said thoughtfully. “The two throne Minax were only freed when the thrones were destroyed.”
“But they have caused many deaths indirectly, and I am afraid even those people near the Minax when they died were drawn to the Obscurum. That includes kings and queens, members of court, servants, and anyone connected with the castles.”
“Gods,” I murmured in horror.
“And this goes back a thousand years,” she added. “I fear it
is hundreds of spirits, at least.”
The thought of a spirit being trapped in hopeless darkness—with the very creatures that had murdered them—was unthinkable.
She leaned forward. “The spirits of mortals are meant to go to the afterworld. They know they shouldn’t be in the Obscurum. The Gate was created to keep the Minax in, as they cannot bear the touch of Cirrus’s light. But I suspect the spirits are able to attack it directly. They are crashing at the Gate from the inside. And as I explained, we don’t know how many souls have gone in.”
The Minax shifted in curiosity, sensing my agitation. “What can we do?”
She opened her mouth and closed it, her hands clutched so tight her knuckles glowed white. “It is hard for me, Ruby, to separate how I feel about you as the child I love, as my granddaughter, and the knowledge that you are the key to our only chance for safety and peace.”
“Tell me,” I urged quietly.
Steeling herself by straightening her back, she said, “If someone inside the Obscurum freed those trapped spirits, my repair to the Gate would be permanent.”
“Inside the Obscurum?”
“Yes.” She watched me closely, her hands twisted into knots, an indecipherable cascade of emotions flashing through her warm eyes.
“But wouldn’t any mortal be devoured by all the Minax the moment they entered?”
“Yes,” she said, pressing her lips together before adding, “with one exception.”
My pulse fluttered. “You?”
Her face fell. “I wish that were so. But even I cannot contain enough sunlight to ward off the darkness in that place. I can repel one Minax, perhaps several, but I could not withstand the overwhelming numbers in that prison.”
“Can… a Nightblood go into the Obscurum?”
She nodded, and I thought a misty sheen now coated her eyes. “Only a Nightblood could enter that place without being harmed.”
Worried tension and quiet strength radiated from her as she waited for my reply.
Understanding dropped into my soul with a crash.