Copyright

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents

are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is
coincidental.
Copyright © 2018 by Elly Blake
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Cover art copyright © 2018 by Sammy Yuen.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names:
Blake, Elly, author.
Title: Nightblood / Elly Blake.
 Description: First edition. | New York ; Boston : Little, Brown
and Company, 2018. | Series: The Frostblood saga ; [3] | Summary:
“Seventeen-year-old Fireblood Ruby and her beloved Frostblood King
Arcus must stop a vengeful god from unleashing a horde of evil
shadow creatures from their prison”— Provided by publisher.
Identifiers: LCCN 2018017616| ISBN 9780316273343
(hardcover) | ISBN 9780316273250 (ebook) | ISBN 9780316273274
(library edition ebook) Subjects: | CYAC: Ability—Fiction. | Magic—
Fiction. | Gods—Fiction. | Fantasy.
Classification: LCC PZ7.1.B586 Ni 2018 | DDC [Fic]—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018017616
ISBNs: 978-0-31627334-3 (hardcover), 978-0-316-27335-0 (ebook)
E3-20180718-JV-PC
 Contents

1. COVER
2. TITLE PAGE
3. COPYRIGHT
4. DEDICATION

5. PART ONE
6. ONE
7. TWO
8. THREE
9. FOUR
10. FIVE
11. SIX
12. SEVEN
13. EIGHT
14. NINE
15. TEN
16. ELEVEN
17. TWELVE
18. THIRTEEN
19. FOURTEEN
20. FIFTEEN
21. SIXTEEN
22. SEVENTEEN
23. PART TWO
24. EIGHTEEN
25. NINETEEN
26. TWENTY
27. TWENTY-ONE
28. TWENTY-TWO
29. TWENTY-THREE
30. TWENTY-FOUR
31. TWENTY-FIVE
32. TWENTY-SIX
33. TWENTY-SEVEN
34. TWENTY-EIGHT
35. TWENTY-NINE
36. THIRTY
37. THIRTY-ONE

38. PART THREE

39. THIRTY-TWO
40. THIRTY-THREE
41. THIRTY-FOUR
42. THIRTY-FIVE
43. THIRTY-SIX
44. THIRTY-SEVEN
45. THIRTY-EIGHT
46. THIRTY-NINE
47. FORTY
48. EPILOGUE
49. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
FOR ERIK AND MARK,
BEST BROTHERS EVER
PART ONE
 ONE

HE WAS LOST, AND ONLY I COULD find him.

My fire-filled palm illuminated the jagged onyx of the endless,
twisting tunnels. Shadows followed me, their shapes grotesque against the
walls, elated to have finally found prey. They cavorted as they drew out the
brutal ecstasy of the hunt. Exhausted, I stumbled over a loose rock, and my
upper arm met sharp stone. Hot blood slid down inside my ripped sleeve.
I felt no pain, only urgency. I called Arcus’s name until my throat grew
raw. The wind laughed.
At a fork in the tunnel, I hesitated. If I took the wrong path, I would
lose him. And somehow I knew that it would be forever.
“Ruby!”
I followed the echo. The darkness became a physical thing, devouring
light. A whistling breeze made the flame in my palm sputter. My steps
slowed. If my fire died, I’d be at the mercy of the shadows. I could taste
their greed as darkness closed around me like water, suffocating. Drowning
me in night.
“Ruby!”
I could feel them now, wrapping around me like a thousand moving
tentacles, constricting my breath. I screamed and struggled.
Eurus’s laughter rang out, echoing in my ears, my chest, my blood.
Fear blanked my mind. The god of the east wind could kill me with a word.
Desperation lent me strength. I lashed out with my foot, connecting
with something solid.
The creature howled. The shadows spun me around and gripped my
shoulders. I drew back my fist and—

“Ruby! Damn you, wake up!”

 A slap stung my cheek. When my other cheek received the same
treatment, I shoved at my attacker with both hands. Fire built in my palms.
“Not on my ship, you don’t!” Warm hands gripped my wrists. “No fire,
you maniac! You’ll kill us all!”
Blinking against the glare of lanterns, I beheld a livid gaze—dilated
black pupils ringed by golden honey-brown.
Not a vengeful god, but a furious prince.
“Kai?”
It took a second to register that the tunnels hadn’t been real, Eurus’s
voice and the grasping shadows only in my mind. As I tried to remember
the details, the rest of the nightmare disappeared like mist. I could only
recall shadows and a sense of deep dread.
Kai’s appearance did nothing to soothe my fear. His brow was lowered
ominously, his coppery-gold hair in pillow-mussed disarray. He leaned in,
his low-voiced ferocity eradicating the remaining cobwebs of my dream.
“What in the everloving blazes did you think you were doing? First
you try to hurl yourself over the side and now you’re threatening me with
fire on a wooden vessel?” He shook my wrists until the flames in my palms
died, his breath hot against my cheek. “If I have to choose, I pick the first
option. At least you’ll only kill yourself!”
I’d tried to throw myself overboard? I shivered, imagining the icy
water closing over my head. If Kai hadn’t grabbed me…
Obviously, I’d been sleepwalking again. This was getting downright
dangerous. Not that I would admit that while accusations were being
heaped on my head. It was my nature to fight back.
“Stop shouting at me!” I twisted against his hold, but his fingers and
thumbs dug into my wrists like burrs. I gave him a swift, hard kick in the
shin. “Let go!”
With a brusque oath in Sudesian, Kai moved back, keeping hold of my
wrists. “You’ve bruised me enough for one night, don’t you think,
Princess?”
Had I already lashed out while dreaming? I scanned his body for cuts
and bruises, then realized I was staring. His bare chest rose and fell with
harsh breaths, the lantern light painting his lean muscles with loving
attention to detail.
“Couldn’t you have put on a shirt?” I snapped, averting my eyes.
 “You’re lucky I bothered to pull some breeches on.” He finally let go
of my wrists, watching me for signs of imminent attack before continuing.
“I was dead asleep. If I’d taken the time to dress, you’d be swimming the
Vast Sea right now. Or, more likely, sinking to the bottom with fish nibbling
at your pretty little toes.”
“I apologize for making your life so difficult.” I crossed my arms over
my wrinkled nightgown, annoyed more at myself than him. When would
the sleepwalking end? It made me feel so powerless, so out of control.
While Kai started pacing in silent agitation, I turned to grip the rail and
stared down at the barely visible roll of waves, waiting for the world to
make sense again.
Though I couldn’t grasp the images from my dream, the sense of
urgency and loss weighed heavily on me. Eurus’s laugh still rang in my
ears.
That memory was eerily clear, raising gooseflesh over my scalp. I
shuddered and rubbed my arms, looking around for some distraction.
Above soaring masts and full white sails, the sky lay black and clear,
studded with diamonds. A suggestion of pink edged the horizon, hinting at
dawn. I realized that several crew members were staring at me, as if waiting
to see what mad thing I would do next. As the ship hit a swell, the planks
groaned, and it sounded to my guilty ears like a judgment on my irrational
behavior.
“You can all go back to your posts,” I told the sailors. I didn’t need
their nervous stares to make me feel any worse.
“I’m the captain,” Kai said with grim conviction, stalking back to me.
“I’ll be the one to tell them to go back to their posts.” He jerked his chin at
the crew. “Get back to your posts!”
The night watch scurried away.
Kai came to lean on the rail next to me, his voice pitched lower but no
less fierce. “This can’t go on.”
“I told you last time that you should bar me in my cabin at night.”
“As if that’ll stop you. You could just burn the door down!”
I threw up my hands. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Kai!”
“You were fine for weeks. Why have you started wandering the decks
in your sleep these past few nights?”
 “I wish I knew.” Ever since I’d destroyed the throne of Sud and taken
the fire Minax into my heart, I’d had an increase in vivid dreams involving
tunnels, shadows, and enclosed spaces, but only in the last week had I
started sleepwalking. The crew reported my midnight wanderings to the
captain—Kai—and he was the one who shook me awake and led me back
to bed.
“If you would let me post a guard outside your door—” he began.
“No! Then Arcus will know something is wrong. He’ll overreact. You
know he will.”
Arcus had enough to worry about. He had a kingdom to rebuild now
that his brother’s devastating rule had ended, and yet he couldn’t focus on
that until we stopped Eurus from opening the Gate of Light. Wherever that
might be.
If we failed, a horde of Minax would break free from the Obscurum—
the underground prison created by the goddess Cirrus—and the world
would be populated by mortal puppets possessed by bloodthirsty shadows.
Don’t think like that. I had to focus on the next task: giving Brother
Thistle The Creation of the Thrones, a book we believed had directions to
the Gate of Light—if he could translate the passages that eluded us.
Kai leaned his head back, his eyes closed. There were shadows under
his eyes, the planes of his face more sharply drawn. He looked exhausted.
I winced. “Look, I’m sorry you keep having to get up in the middle of
the night for my sake.”
He opened his eyes and peered at the lightening sky. “Well, we’re only
a couple of days from land, anyway, and then your nightmares will be
someone else’s problem.” He slanted me a half smile, which died as his
eyes flicked downward. “Ah…” He cleared his throat. “Maybe you should
lace up your”—he pointed at his chest in lieu of description—“with a bit
more care.”
I glanced down. The sleeves of my nightgown were long, the hem all
the way to my ankles, but the laces at the collar had come undone, showing
an alarming amount of cleavage, and possibly more from his vantage point.
“Oops,” I said, fumbling with the laces. I wondered if my faulty
apparel might have been the real reason the crew had been staring for so
long.
 Normally I might have told Kai what he could do with his opinion
about my clothing. But this wasn’t criticism of my tendency to wear a tunic
and leggings instead of a gown. We needed to keep our relationship in the
calmer waters of friendship, where we had steered it since leaving Sudesia.
When modesty was restored, I raised my head, but Kai had already
turned on his heel, his easy strides taking him toward the companionway.
“Good night, Ruby,” he said over his shoulder. “I trust you won’t cause
any more trouble tonight.”
“I won’t go back to sleep,” I called after him. In fact, I wouldn’t sleep
at night for the rest of our voyage. A bright sky seemed to be the only proof
against nightmares. Next time I tried to toss myself into the drowning
deeps, Kai might not be there to save me.
The horizon was orange now, the stars winking out as dawn claimed its
due. In a few minutes, the shadows would be gone.
“Except for the one in my heart,” I whispered. The dread I’d felt
earlier returned with the suddenness of an unexpected squall.
As I turned from the rail, I could have sworn I heard laughter in the
wind.
 TWO

A SHOUT OF “LAND HO!” RANG FROM the crow’s nest. Frostblood sailors
rushed to the rail and scurried into the rigging, eager for their first glimpse
of home in months.
Nervous warmth coursed through my veins, heating the brass rail
beneath my palms. The voyage had cost us time, preventing us from doing
anything more active than reading and planning. Soon we would find out if
the book held the secrets we needed.
The next few hours passed in a flurry of activity. As the Tempesian
half of the crew carried out their tasks with laughter and snatches of song,
the Sudesians eyed the gray cliffs with distrust. This white-cloaked
kingdom topped with drab pewter skies was the place where so many of
their own had been murdered by the previous Frost King. It would take
more than the death of that king and a few brief months for them to feel
safe here.
My thoughts were equally torn.
Sudesia, with its tropical clime and vibrant colors, had felt like a warm
embrace to my Fireblood spirit. And yet, Tempesia’s snowy peaks and icy
mists had the pull of deep familiarity.
Its people, however, could be colder than its northern reaches. With a
few exceptions, I had little use for Frostbloods.
“Your expression is very grave,” said the most notable exception.
Breath as cold as an arctic wind tickled my ear. “Not looking forward to
winter in the north?”
I leaned back against him and echoed his wry tone. “It’s more that I
dread spending another winter with Frostbloods.” I gestured landward.
“And there’s a whole kingdom of them.”
Arcus chuckled, his large hands coming to rest on my shoulders. “I’ve
heard you have a history of handling those Frostbloods with great skill.
Particularly their king.”
 He smoothed my hair to the side and a cold kiss fell on the nape of my
neck, making a delicious shudder run through me, top to tail. I turned with a
smile and caught a flash of intense blue eyes before his lips met mine softly,
sending another thrill along my spine.
I pulled back to murmur, “Their king seems intent on handling me.”
His chest rumbled with a laugh, and I grinned.
His fingers came to rest on my neck as his lips slid up to my temple.
“You can’t blame him. You’re very touchable.”
I enjoyed his clean scent, his strength and steadiness, and snuggled
closer, drawing his arms tighter around me. For the first time since my
nightmare, I felt safe.
He rested his chin on my head, inhaling deeply. “You smell so good,”
he said in a low, soft voice. “I could stand here and breathe you in all day.”
I tucked my cheek against his chest. “You smell like mint. I wonder if
you taste as good.”
“All right, Lady Firebrand, we need to change the subject or the crew
is going to blush as I bend you back over my arm and kiss you senseless.”
I knew he wanted to, just as I knew that he wouldn’t. Though he
sometimes kissed me on deck, he was reserved about it. Even when we
were alone, it hadn’t gone much further. Every night, he’d left me at my
cabin door with a mere kiss.
“Promises, promises.”
He made a sound low in his throat, his eyes heating. “Stop it. Now, tell
me what you were really thinking about.”
I looked over my shoulder at the gray cliffs. “Aside from the obvious?
I’m wondering what we’ll find when we reach the capital. The Frost Court
left alone for nearly three months…”
He was silent for a moment, then shrugged. “Whatever has happened,
we’ll deal with it.”
I peered up at him, not trusting he was as calm as he sounded.
“Doesn’t this go against the Frostblood code that tells you to plan carefully
for any contingency?”
His eyes crinkled at the edges. “That may be the Frostblood code, but a
certain Fireblood has taught me to live in the present. Right now, that
includes enjoying the last few hours of peace on this ship.”
 As if on cue, the Frostbloods erupted in the ribald shanty they always
sang as we neared land, extolling the rewards of shore leave.
I lifted a brow at Arcus. “Peace?”
“Relative peace.” His eyes softened like melting ice. “I’ll take what I
can get.”
I reached up to brush a lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead,
and he leaned subtly into my touch. I tilted my face up, inviting.
Our lips had just brushed when Kai’s voice interrupted. “How
thoughtful of you to put on a final show for the crew.”
Arcus’s arms constricted, pulling me closer. He always acted as if the
Fireblood prince were waiting to snatch me away at the first opportunity.
Kai leaned against the rail with his signature indolent grace. His wine-
red doublet and fiery hair—bleached more golden by the weeks of sun—
were the only spots of color in a gray landscape.
“I suppose it’s cold enough to justify some cuddling,” he said, as if
generously granting a request. “Though a Frostblood isn’t the logical choice
if you’re looking for warmth, Ruby.”
His eyes held only the usual level of sensual promise typical of him,
but Arcus reacted with a frostbitten stare.
“Watch yourself, princeling.”
“Even a Fireblood princess craves warmth sometimes,” Kai taunted
with a slow grin.
Arcus’s nostrils flared. “Did you need something?”
“We’ll land soon.” Kai gestured to shore with a lift of his chin. “Just
checking our plans haven’t changed.”
“Same as before,” I said. “We take the book to Brother Thistle. He
finds and translates directions to the Gate of Light. We go there and make
sure it stays closed so no Minax can escape. Simple.”
“Yes, that’s all very simple,” he said with an eye roll. “I hope you’re
right about that book.”
“I am,” I said with more confidence than I felt.
The Fireblood masters accompanying us had been translating The
Creation of the Thrones from ancient Sudesian, but they’d found no
mention of the Gate’s location. However, they’d told us there were some
passages in ancient Ventian—a dead language purported to be the root of
both Tempesian and Sudesian, but which none of us could translate. I was
sure Brother Thistle could.
“We must be realistic,” Kai said. “The book may not contain clear
directions, in which case a search will be necessary.” He cleared his throat.
“And at the risk of starting another argument, we must talk about how to
secure ships to help us in our search. You’ve made it clear you need the
Frost Court’s approval to deploy your navy.”
Arcus’s eyes held a warning. “That’s what our laws require, yes.”
“And for them to agree, the Frost Court must be convinced of the
danger. Therefore, we need to show them proof the Minax exists.”
“You will not use Ruby to give them proof,” Arcus said with narrowed
eyes.
“I don’t need your permission,” I added quietly.
He turned to me, his tone somewhere between commanding and
begging me to see reason. “Either you could lose control of the creature and
it could find another host, leaving it free to wreak carnage like the frost
Minax did. Or you could lose control and hurt someone. Either way, the risk
is too great.”
My jaw tightened. “I notice both of those scenarios involve me losing
control.”
Kai straightened, an intense look in his golden-brown eyes. “If she
allowed it to partially possess a few key members of your court, just so they
could see how powerful—”
“No,” Arcus said, instant and emphatic, blocking the argument the way
he’d block an attack.
“I’ve been able to control it throughout the voyage,” I reminded him
with growing irritation.
“Or it has chosen to remain dormant to lull you into a false sense of
security.”
That possibility had occurred to me, too, but he didn’t need to know
that. “Your faith in me is flattering.”
“It’s not lack of faith in you. It’s simple caution. Do you deny that I
could be right?”
Kai’s jaw moved as if his teeth were grinding together. “Listen, you
stubborn…” He pressed his lips together. “They need to see this to believe
it.”
 Arcus dropped his arms from around me and used his extra inches of
height to loom over Kai. “No.”
Kai stood his ground, heat flowing from him in waves. “Then how do
you plan to convince your court?”
“I am their king. I don’t need to convince them.”
I sighed, pushing between them. “You know it’s not that simple. Your
connection with me has made people distrustful. And your recent alliance
with Firebloods won’t win you favor with some.”
Arcus took a breath and spoke with firm conviction. “You are the
crown princess of Sudesia, heir to the fire throne. And the prince here is
now the queen’s official emissary. Those things carry weight. They’ll know
I’ve built trust with our enemy.”
Kai snorted angrily, and Arcus said, “I’m not calling you an enemy.
I’m stating how the court sees it. Now that we have a signed treaty with the
Fire Queen, that will gain my court’s full attention.”
“Weren’t you nearly assassinated by your own court? Twice?”
“Kai!” I shook my head at him. It wasn’t fair to bring up the most
traumatic episode of Arcus’s life. The first assassination attempt had burned
him and left him with scars.
“I thought we were stating unpleasant truths,” Kai countered without
remorse.
“You won’t speak of that,” I said, low and fierce.
Arcus took my hands and squeezed them. “It’s all right, Ruby.” He
addressed his next comment to Kai. “I’m convinced the Blue Legion was
behind both attacks. They will have to be discovered and routed.”
“I’m relieved to hear you concede that, at least,” Kai replied. He
looked up to where sailors were adjusting the sails for our arrival. “I have
things to do.” He strode off toward the quarterdeck.
I moved next to Arcus, watching his stiff back and white-knuckled grip
on the rail. Frost spread, melting as it touched my hand, a sign that he was
losing control of his emotions. He huffed out a breath. “Every instinct is
telling me to send you off somewhere safe and to fix all this myself.”
“Even if you could ‘fix this’ without me—which you can’t—I won’t
be pushed aside. Kai and I are your allies. Our opinions deserve your full
consideration.”
 He turned to me, his brows lowered. “I listen to you. I take everything
you say seriously.”
“And Kai? Do you listen to him?”
His expression closed off. “Not if I can help it.”
“That’s a problem. At least trust that Kai is on our side and behave
accordingly. I’m tired of watching you trying to goad each other into
fisticuffs.”
His mouth twitched up on one side. “Is it that obvious?”
“It’s obviously unnecessary, and I don’t want either of you to get hurt.
Not him, whom I love like a brother, and—”
Arcus made a disgruntled noise. “I saw you kiss him, remember? Not
like a brother.”
“Fine. Like a good friend who won’t ever be more because I’m already
madly… attached… to someone else.”
The word love wouldn’t come to my lips. It felt like tempting the gods
to express that emotion, as if Tempus himself would swoop in and snatch
Arcus away from me for daring to voice it.
“So you love him,” Arcus said in a low voice, “and are attached to
me.”
“That’s not what I meant. Don’t read into things. I’ve made it clear
how I feel. Kai sees it. The entire ship sees it. Why don’t you?”
His mouth twisted, his eyes the color of a winter sea. “I never thought
I’d be the jealous sort, and yet I often have the urge to throw him
overboard.”
“He flirts with everyone, not just me.”
After a thoughtful pause, he conceded, “I suppose that is true. I will try
not to smash his pretty mouth in when he directs his charm at you.”
“No smashing or you’ll answer to me.”
His mouth quirked up at one corner. “In that case, I am all
compliance.”
“Just the way I like you.”
He huffed a laugh and pulled me into a tight embrace. “No doubt.”
I relaxed in his arms, lifting my face to the breeze. Land filled the
skyline, the seagulls screaming like tortured spirits as we neared shore.
From now on, time would move faster, and our race to defeat Eurus had to
be the first and only concern.
 It felt as if an hourglass had been turned over, the sands beginning to
fall.
 THREE

DOREENA SIDLED UP NEXT TO ME ON the foredeck, her skirts swaying

with the movement of the ship. She wore a thick cloak, but she kept her
arms wrapped around herself. I smiled in greeting and subtly sent out a
pulse of heat to warm her. For as long as I’d known her, she’d shown no
signs of a gift of frost or fire, so the cold must have felt piercing to her thin
frame.
Somehow, she always reminded me of a woodland creature. Her big,
serious brown eyes, along with her nut-brown hair, small nose, and pointed
chin gave her the aspect of a nervous fawn.
Her assessing gaze took in my gown. “You look very fine, my lady. I
mean, Your Highness.”
“Thank you, Doreena, but I’ve told you not to use my title,” I chided.
“I’m Ruby to you.”
The princess identity still didn’t quite fit, like wearing a pair of fancy
slippers that pinched. Most of the time I tried not to think about it, but I
knew it would shortly become a necessary mask. My title would give me
credibility with any Frostblood nobles we might encounter on our way to
the castle. I hoped my newfound identity as Sudesian royalty would force
them to take our efforts to mend ties between the kingdoms more seriously.
I smoothed the velvet bodice of my dress. In preparation for our
arrival, I had changed from my sailor’s togs into a raspberry gown with full
sleeves and a vermilion belt, the same shade as the ribbons threaded
through the bodice and hem. Pearl earrings matched a pearl necklace with a
ruby pendant. It was part of the wardrobe given to me by Queen Nalani
when we’d departed Sudesia.
As we leaned on the rail, Doreena’s eyes kept flicking to the
quarterdeck, where the Fireblood prince stood at the helm, deftly guiding
the ship into the harbor. I’d been careful to pretend I didn’t notice that she’d
spent most of the past few weeks staring at him. From clues in his
expression—an extra-bright gleam of amusement in his eyes and a slight
twitch of his lips—I had the sense he was aware of her regard and enjoyed
it, even though he treated her with polite neutrality. She was smitten, and I
couldn’t really blame her. In his finery, he was a splendid thing to behold.
I shaded my eyes with my hand and returned to my study of the harbor.
Tevros was usually a bustling port filled with merchant ships and fishing
boats, the wharf swarming with sailors carrying crates and barrels of cargo.
Instead, it was eerily empty, only a few unoccupied rowboats bobbing in
their berths.
“Something is wrong,” I worried aloud. “It almost looks abandoned.”
Doreena tore her gaze from Kai and turned her head to examine the
scene with me. She pointed to flagpoles jutting up from several buildings.
“The flags are wrong.”
A white fist holding a shard of ice had replaced the king’s white arrow
on a blue background.
She glanced at me. “What can it mean?”
“I don’t know.” I had a suspicion but hoped I was wrong.
We weren’t the only ones to notice something amiss. The Tempesian
sailors, who knew the port well, muttered to one another in low tones. The
bustle and stamp, exclamations, and raucous singing were over.
After a few minutes, Arcus appeared at the top of the companionway
and moved to join us. It took only a second before he went rigid. His voice
cracked like thunder. “What in Tempus’s name is that?”
Doreena shrank away, then hustled off. Apparently the king’s wrath
was too much for her, even if her fears were rooted in memories of the
former king and not this one.
“The flags.” I pointed. “What do they—”
He uttered a curse. “We found messages with that symbol during our
investigation of the ballroom attack.” His brow lowered as he glared at the
shore. “The Blue Legion dare to proclaim their treason so openly. I’ll have
their standards ripped down and the conspirators expunged from my
country if it’s the last thing I do.”
“They must have gained followers over the past few months,” I said
quietly, “for them to be this brazen.”
He nodded, still radiating tension, but his expression had smoothed,
giving him a deceptive air of calm. His rage had turned cold and was
therefore at its most dangerous. Despite the fact that it wasn’t directed at
me, I shivered.
This must feel personal. Not only did the Blue Legion seek a return to
a previous way of life, which included outlawing or killing Firebloods, they
were also publicly slapping his face with a declaration of defiance and
rebellion.
“If we don’t stop Eurus, none of this will matter,” I added, reminding
us both that even if we defeated this threat, there were far greater ones
ahead.

Once Kai had maneuvered the ship to a berth in the near-empty harbor,
the anchor was dropped and a gangplank lowered. Arcus and I
disembarked, along with the Fireblood masters and a contingent of
Frostblood sailors. Kai stayed behind to keep the ship ready to sail if
necessary.
A short sword hung at my hip, hidden under a long cloak. Arcus wore
a similar cloak, the hood drawn up to cast his face in shadow.
A crowd of people clustered on the wharf. They moved slowly forward
en masse like a flock of curious gulls. As we neared, the stench of so many
bodies together—along with that of dead fish, rot, and waste—was
overpowering.
Some of them must have recognized their king. They gasped and
whispered, and then bowed at the waist or knelt. Arcus’s head turned slowly
as he took in the assembly, doubtless noting the same things I did: They
were all thin to the point of gauntness, their clothing in poor condition.
Many of them shivered visibly, a sign that they were not Frostbloods, or at
least had weakened or insignificant gifts.
They carried packs and satchels and stared at the ship with exhausted,
pleading eyes as if it was their last hope.
Arcus called out, “Who is in charge here?”
Hands pointed toward a squat stone building between the main street
and the wharf. A Blue Legion standard flapped from its roof. Two soldiers
in full armor lounged on either side of the door. Unlike the crowd, they
looked sleek and well fed.
The crowd parted as Arcus moved toward the building, waiting
patiently when some of them needed help to get up from their kneeling
position. A young woman who looked to be in the late stages of pregnancy
had remained standing. She lifted her bowed head as I passed, her whole
body shaking with cold.
On impulse, I untied my cloak and gave it to her. Her hand closed over
the fabric reflexively. At my encouraging nod, she pulled the cloak over her
shoulders with an expression of relief.
As I moved away, she grabbed my sleeve. “Is your ship taking
passengers?” she asked, letting go as I turned to face her. The expectant
look in her brown eyes made me wish I could give her the answer she
wanted.
“I’m afraid not.” Whispers and groans of disappointment rippled
outward from where we stood. Some of the onlookers began filing away
with an air of dejection. “Are you all waiting to leave?”
She nodded. “There have been no ships for over a week. We have coin
saved, but food and board are expensive. The longer we wait, the less we
have left to pay for passage.”
“Where are you going?”
She shrugged. “Anywhere.”
An older man piped up. “Anywhere warmer than here!”
A few weak chuckles came from the remaining crowd, along with
muttered agreement.
I frowned at Arcus, who had turned back to wait for me. At my look,
he approached with long strides. I asked the woman, “Why do you want to
leave?”
Her eyes shifted nervously to Arcus before she answered in a whisper.
“It’s the Purity Exodus.”
My brow furrowed in confusion, Arcus’s mirroring my own.
“The Winter of Purification,” she said, as if that clarified things. When
I shook my head, she added, “Anyone not strong enough to withstand the
cold was told to leave the kingdom. By royal decree.”
“Royal decree?” Arcus said harshly. “I think not.”
 “Forgive me, Your Majesty,” she said quickly, starting to bow, one
hand to her stomach.
I touched her shoulder, pushing out a burst of warmth. “That’s not
necessary. We only want to understand what’s going on.”
Her voice was so quiet, Arcus and I both leaned in to hear her. “The
winter has been terribly harsh. People who are not Frostbloods can hardly
withstand the cold. And there is a scarcity of firewood. We have no choice
but to leave if we want to survive.”
“Who calls it the Winter of Purification?” Arcus asked, making an
effort to sound less stern, though I sensed his underlying anger.
“You’ll find out more in the office there,” she said, gesturing to the
building with the Blue Legion standard. “I don’t want to say the wrong
thing.” Her eyes darted from the guards in front of the building to others
patrolling the wharf.
“Thank you for the information,” I said, more convinced than ever that
something was dreadfully wrong here.
“Oh,” she said, her hands unfastening the cloak. “You’ll be wanting
this back.”
“Keep it,” I said with a smile, then followed Arcus, who had set off
again for the building.
The two guards straightened as we approached, their expressions
hostile.
“Halt!” shouted the portly, older guard.
“Stand aside,” Arcus said calmly. “Where can I find your superior?”
The answer came in a deadpan voice as if he’d repeated it many times.
“This is the office of the Right Honorable Lord Grimcote of Agrifor
Province, High Overseer of the Purity Exodus. He takes no visitors without
an appointment.” The guard looked us up and down, and his tone relaxed.
“You can make an appointment through Secretary Jarobs. Might get in as
early as next week.”
“He will make an exception for me,” Arcus said with a hint of irony.
“I doubt it,” the squat guard said, his eyes skimming my figure with
frank appreciation. “I can see you’re not from here, but don’t worry,” he
said with a reassuring lift of his palm. “Trade with other kingdoms will still
be welcome. If you come from Safra, the Coral Isles, or even Sudesia,
you’ll be allowed to dock at our ports and deal fairly with our merchants.
Fairly, mind you! None of that Sudesian cheating. You wouldn’t want us to
close off trade with you again now that it’s just been opened.”
“Indeed, no,” I agreed, swallowing my rage. “I wouldn’t want to be
kept away from your lovely shores.” I swept my eyes around, encompassing
the slushy, uncleared streets as well as the piles of refuse thrown in corners.
When my eyes returned to his, he was still beaming. Irony was lost on this
one.
Arcus remained resolutely silent.
The other, taller guard leered at me. “If you’re looking for work, you
might want to check at the Painted Lady.” He jerked his chin to the street at
his right. “The madam employs girls like yourself, and she’s none too picky
where they’re from, either. It’s nice to have some variety now and then,
isn’t it?”
He raised his brows and grinned at Arcus, apparently waiting for him
to agree. Instead, Arcus drew off his hood. “I fear you’re operating under
some misconceptions.” His stony expression must have given the guards
pause, though no spark of recognition lit their dull faces.
“We meant no offense,” the older guard said. “But as a favor, I’ll tell
you that you shouldn’t get too attached to this one.” He indicated me with a
nod. “Frostbloods won’t be permitted to form attachments to non-
Frostbloods. Not if you want to live in Tempesia, that is.”
“You are mistaken.” Arcus bared his teeth in a rictus of a grin, all
threatening white teeth and anticipation. “Very dangerously mistaken. Now,
move.”
The squat guard shook his head again, his expression turning from
earnest to belligerent. “I told you, go talk to Jarobs. You might get in to see
Lord Grimcote next week, or at the most two or three—”
Before he could finish, his mouth was full of ice. In seconds, his body
was covered in layers inches thick. On his other side, his companion’s eyes
were frozen wide and staring. Arcus’s hands were lifted, each directed at
one of the guards, his fingertips glittering with frost.
Relieved I didn’t have to put my rusty swordsmanship to the test, I
gave Arcus a smile. “Nicely done.”
He pulled his hood back on. “Two hands. Two guards. Simple.”
Stepping past their frozen bodies, he opened the door.
 FOUR

THE OVERSEER SAT AT A MAHOGANY desk covered with tidily arranged

ink pots, quills, and rolled parchments. A small, snow-dusted window
provided filtered light, and a coal-filled brazier in the corner smoked with
heat.
He looked up as we entered, blinking twice before his eyebrows
scrunched together in consternation. Really, it was more of a single brow,
the thick dark hairs growing together in the middle.
I stared hard at him. I was sure I’d never met any Lord Grimcote
before, and yet he seemed familiar. The roundness of his face, the small
eyes set like currants in dough…
“Who let you in here?” he barked, the feather in his royal-blue velvet
hat wobbling. “I don’t take visitors without appointments.”
I halted midstep. As frozen as the guards.
“Brother Lack?” I breathed in complete stupefaction.
His eyes rounded, and his jowls shook as he opened and closed his
mouth. His expression of stark fury confirmed his identity as nothing else
would have.
“You!” His lip curled. “The Fireblood scum.”
His familiar insult helped me recover from the shock. Squaring my
shoulders, I moved toward the chair facing his desk. Memories flashed
through my mind—his fist descending toward me as I lay helpless on the
floor of Forwind Abbey, his accusations that I’d started a dangerous fire.
How he’d informed the king’s soldiers of my presence there, resulting in
my capture and the deaths of some of the monks. I hated him for that, and
by the murderous look on his face, the feeling was still mutual.
I sat calmly, folding my hands in my lap. “It’s been so long. Keeping
busy?”
“Guards!” he shouted.
“They won’t be coming,” Arcus informed him, moving to stand behind
my chair—a tall, hooded presence radiating cold. “And I believe you’ll
want to apologize for that remark to Princess Ruby. Now.”
“Princess?” Brother Lack’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Fine clothes do not
a princess make. You’re still a filthy Fireblood peasant underneath.”
I made a show of wiping my cheek. “You still spit when you talk. I’d
forgotten that charming quality.”
As I spoke, Arcus removed his hood.
Brother Lack’s eyes swept upward, and his throat bobbed on a long
swallow. “Arcus!”
The former monk clearly remembered him as the young man who had
lived in Forwind Abbey. Arcus’s true identity had remained secret from
everyone but a trusted few. However, the story of the scarred king retaking
his throne must have spread throughout the kingdom by now. Brother Lack
seemed to put it together from one heartbeat to the next. It showed in the
parade of horror, annoyance, and finally a grittily forced expression of
subservience that played across his features.
He pushed his chair back and stood, bowing as low as he could with
the impediment of a thick, finely worked leather belt cinching his rounded
waist, then swallowed again as he straightened. “Forgive me, Your Majesty.
I didn’t realize… I did not expect your presence in my… hem… quiet city.
How can I be of service?”
The room had chilled with Arcus’s impatience. “I await your apology
to the princess.”
Brother Lack forced out the words between gritted teeth. “My
apologies… Princess.”
“Your apology is as gracious as expected,” I replied evenly. “And I
accept it with as much enthusiasm as it was delivered.”
He gave me a killing look. I smiled and picked up a scroll from his
desk, aware his face was flushing dangerously. “Grain is indeed expensive
in these parts.” I flicked a look up at him. “Perhaps you lack”—I smiled as I
realized I’d used his name—“the skills to negotiate a reasonable price. I’d
be happy to instruct you in the art of negotiation. I’m told I have a talent for
it.”
His face continued to redden. “No. Thank you.” The polite
afterthought seemed to be dragged from the soles of his feet, fighting every
inch of the way.
 I could sense Arcus’s impatience behind me, although he made no
move to interfere as I took another scroll and broke the seal, then skimmed
its contents. A letter from Lord Grimcote to his butcher, complaining about
inferior cuts of meat. I inspected his seal. It was a semicircle with lines
radiating out from it.
“What is this?” I asked, waving the seal at him. “A setting sun?”
His eyes widened. “Put that down! That is my private
correspondence!”
I shook my head. “It’s too cheery for you. How about a storm cloud? I
think that would suit better. Or perhaps a puddle.”
Arcus took a cursory glance at the seal and said, “I don’t recall a Lord
Grimcote among my nobility.”
“I…” He cleared his throat. “It is a recent title, bestowed upon my
father by King Rasmus for his loyal service.”
“Meaning your father donated significant coin to my brother’s war
against Safra. Where is your land?”
“In the Aris Plains,” he admitted stiffly.
“Of course,” I muttered.
King Rasmus had taken land in the independent-minded southern
provinces—the area that had had the highest concentration of Firebloods in
Tempesia—and parceled it out to certain nobles as reward for their
contributions to his war. It was no secret that Arcus planned to take some of
that land back, returning it to the farmers who had worked it for
generations. It was one of the complaints fueling the Blue Legion.
“So your vow of poverty means nothing to you,” I said, amused at his
flaring nostrils. How easy it was to goad him. “A fact made even clearer
when you look out your window at the hundred or more starving people
freezing to death on those docks. They seemed to view the arrival of our
ship as a last hope.”
“I can’t control how many people choose to leave our shores, or how
few ships are here to transport them. The Winter of Purification is upon us.
I do not question the will of the gods; I merely serve.”
“I think it’s your own will you follow. You always were obsessed with
Frostblood purity.”
“Only the strongest will remain.” His eyes shifted to Arcus. “No true
Frostblood would object to that.”
 “Is that what you’re posturing as?” I demanded. “A true Frostblood?
Last I checked, you had no gift to speak of.”
He drew himself up. “I’ve always thought the mark of a true
Frostblood was in his character.”
“Excuse me?” I laughed at the idea of him having anything resembling
character. “Oh, and I suppose that’s why those people out there are
freezing? Because they have no character?” My voice rose. “I think it’s
because they don’t have your connections, your wealth, and your guile. You
plunder their lands to fill your coffers, spending your coin on food and fine
clothing while common folk starve! The proof is in these invoices and
ledgers.” I grabbed a wad of scrolls and tossed them at him. They hit his
chest and scattered. “Do you deny it?”
“I don’t owe them anything, damn you!” Spittle flew, hitting my
heated skin with a sizzle. “I certainly owe you no explanations. You are
nothing but an upstart rebel who was pretty enough to attract the attentions
of a scarred and ugly king!”
The words reverberated in my head. It was one thing to insult me, but
to say that about Arcus…
“I’m so glad you gave me an excuse to do this,” I said hoarsely, raising
my fiery palms. “Even your bones will be ashes.”
“Ruby, wait,” Arcus said behind me.
I barely heard him. As fury and fire built in equal measure, a sense of
joy exploded in my heart.
The Minax woke, readying to feed off the kill.
Let it. This vile excuse for an overseer deserved to die.
“Hold, Ruby. Look!” Arcus took my wrist in hand and turned it so I
could see. My veins ran the color of tar. “We can’t risk it taking over!”
I don’t care. Fire twisted in copper threads and golden arcs, rushing
back and forth between my palms in a hypnotic pattern.
The Minax whispered encouragement.
Burn him. Burn his bones. Flay him with fire.
Palms raised, Brother Lack whispered, “Please.”
The cold of Arcus’s fingers on my wrist did more to penetrate the
angry haze than that single pleading word. I lowered my hands but kept
them molten hot.
 Arcus moved forward, leaning on the desk’s edge, frost lacing its way
over the polished wood as he addressed the terrified overseer.
“You will resign your post. You will go quietly with my soldiers to
await your interrogation. I will pull up the roots of this treason. And don’t
think for a second I’ve forgotten what you did to the princess at Forwind
Abbey—how it was you who alerted the soldiers to her presence.”
Lack’s eyes shifted to me. When I didn’t make a move to attack, he
straightened and addressed Arcus in a shaking voice. “This goes deeper
than you think. Your authority isn’t what it was before you left. If you don’t
pledge your fealty to the Blue Legion, you will find yourself in your own
dungeon.”
“You dare,” I said, my fire flaring.
He lifted his palms in surrender. “It was meant as a warning. I am but a
facet in the gem of the Blue Legion. Crush me, and you will only release
the blinding fury of its other sides. You cannot fight the divine.”
“The divine?” Arcus scoffed. “Your agenda has nothing to do with
Fors and everything to do with your own ambition.”
He shook his head frantically. “We are merely servants. He will reward
us for our faithfulness.”
“Get out before I change my mind and execute you today, which is
what you surely deserve. Know that it is only my concern for the princess
that has saved you.”
Brother Lack finally looked convinced. He trembled as he rounded the
desk and scurried toward the door. As he saw his frozen guards outside, he
stumbled and fell to his knees. The plumed velvet hat went skidding into
the dirty slush. As he stumbled to his feet, he turned a glare of loathing back
onto us. “I will relish the day you taste the Blue Legion’s vengeance.”
Arcus sucked in a breath and went after him, grabbing him up by the
back of his doublet and shaking him, for all his weight, as if he were a
disobedient puppy, then tossing him into a snowbank. At a word from their
king, Frostblood soldiers surrounded the overseer and dragged him off.
As soon as I stepped out of the building, Arcus turned and grabbed my
hands to check my wrists. His breathing calmed when he saw my blood was
red once again.
“You’re all right?” he asked.
“Yes, I feel fine now.”
 It was true. The Minax had quieted. But I had lost my complacent state
of mind. Perhaps Arcus had been right, that it wasn’t so much I’d kept the
creature under control on the voyage as it hadn’t chosen to assert itself. A
chill that had nothing to do with the bitter wind swept down my spine. I
would have to be very careful of my emotions.
Thankfully, seeing Arcus vent his rage had eased my own somehow. I
almost wanted to laugh when I remembered Brother Lack bumbling into the
snow, hat a-flying.
“You could have executed him,” I pointed out, staring up at Arcus.
“A dead man can’t answer questions.”
Good point. “You’ll have to keep him in custody or he’ll go crying to
the rest of the Blue Legion that you’re here.”
“They’ll find out soon enough that their miserable excuse for a game is
over. He’s lucky I was worried about you, or I’d have waited until you were
done with him and sent his burned corpse to the capital as a warning.”
“Would you, really?” That seemed harsh coming from him, but I’d
never truly seen him pushed beyond his limits.
He halted and gave me a measuring look. “Would you disapprove?”
I didn’t even have to pause to consider my answer. “In his case? No.”
“I thought not.” He searched my eyes as he stepped close—almost as if
he were looking for something—but then leaned forward. I tilted my chin
up, but we became aware at the same time of the dozens of eyes trained on
us. He surveyed the throng of shivering citizens. “We have work to do here
before we can leave. These people need food, and they need shelter and
heat.”
An idea formed as I saw the Fireblood masters clustered nearby. “I
think I know a way we can warm them up.”
 FIVE

OVER THE FOLLOWING DAYS, WE SET up warming stations and shelters in

a public inn and a few large houses, where the Fireblood masters regulated
their body temperature to throw off heat.
I took charge of the infirmary. Anyone versed in the healing arts lent a
hand, including Doreena, who surprised me with her knowledge. An
apothecary’s stores were put to use—willingly once I assured the owner we
would reimburse her for the value of her herbs and tinctures.
The main problem among the populace turned out to be
malnourishment, since the Blue Legion had been charging non-Frostbloods
exorbitant prices for food. Fortunately, that was no longer a problem once
we discovered that Brother Lack had commandeered a luxurious manor
from a local merchant, and its outbuildings were crammed with grain, dried
meat, cheese, root vegetables, and sundry winter stores. He’d been gorging
while the refugees practically starved.
Arcus’s soldiers and Kai’s sailors rounded up the Blue Legion’s forces
and, with a little modification, turned their barracks into a temporary prison.
It turned out not to be too difficult since most of them were found lolling
about in taverns or the infamous Painted Lady.
Eilynn, an experienced captain in the Tempesian navy, was Arcus’s
choice as the new overseer. She would have no difficulty maintaining order
in the city, even after we left.
Some homeowners objected when we requisitioned their rooms for
refugees, but a surprising number of them were cooperative. As it turned
out, not everyone agreed with the Blue Legion’s ideals. Many locals, even
those in the merchant and upper classes, confessed relief that Lord
Grimcote was gone, and now that their king had returned, things would get
back to normal.
At first, my patients in the infirmary seemed wary of me and the
Fireblood masters. Many of the displaced citizens came from northern
provinces where they’d never even seen a Fireblood and had only heard
about us from cautionary tales: “Don’t trust a Fireblood, or you’ll surely be
burned!”
But the heat, food, and shelter warmed them inside and out, and I
began to see that we were gaining their trust. It was the first encouraging
sign that there might be a chance to heal the rift between kingdoms.
After only three days, the city had undergone a minor transformation,
with shelters, pallets, and blankets for all.
On the fourth day, the young woman I’d given my cloak, Anda, gave
birth to a beautiful daughter she named Gyda after her own mother. Gyda
had black hair and dark eyes and the prettiest little rosebud lips I’d ever
seen.
I watched in fascination as the infant nursed at her mother’s breast, the
way she latched on and fed contentedly. Anda stroked her tiny head and
smiled. When the hungry infant finally had enough, she fell into a peaceful
sleep.
“Would you like to hold her?” Anda asked, offering me the cozy
bundle.
I nodded but took a minute to regulate my body temperature first, and
to make sure that the Minax was tightly under control before I put out my
arms. My heart squeezed as Anda placed the swaddling-wrapped newborn
in my arms. She seemed so tiny and breakable. A fierce urge to protect her
came over me.
No child should be left in the cold because of some heartless devotion
to purity, I thought as I rocked the slight but precious weight in my arms.
When kingdoms war, when gods seek revenge, it’s innocent people who
suffer most.
Eurus was ready to tear apart our world, with no care at all for the
mortals he would destroy. My resolve hardened to fight him with
everything I had, even if it meant my life.
“She’s not a Frostblood,” Anda said with an air of regret as she looked
down at her tiny daughter in my arms.
“Neither am I,” I said brightly, cooing at the baby. I stroked my
fingertip over her tiny fist. Her skin was like velvet. Her hand opened and
caught my finger in a surprisingly strong grip.
I laughed with delight. “Her hand is like a little vise!”
“That’s nothing compared to the strength in her jaw.”
 I chuckled at the mother’s wry expression. “She’s perfect. She’s going
to be loved, and that’s all that counts.”
“You’re right.”

Aside from a few snoring patients, the infirmary was finally quiet for
the night. The manor’s ballroom had turned out to be perfect for us, its
fireplace providing heat and a warm glow that made the room feel snug
despite its size.
Everyone’s injuries had been tended, every patient given herbs to help
with pain. Of the healers and volunteers, only Doreena and I remained,
bundling up dirty linens and tidying the supplies.
When she was finished, she scrubbed her hands with lye soap in the
bucket of melted snow I’d turned into warm washing water. “I’m glad this
day is done. I don’t think I sat down once.”
“A long day,” I agreed, rolling up a clean bandage and storing it in a
basket kept handy for the healers.
“If you don’t need me, milady, I’m going to bed.” She dried her hands
on a clean rag and rubbed her lower back as she straightened.
We shared a room on one of the lower floors of the manor house. It
had two beds, but I’d barely used mine. As tired as I was, I couldn’t sleep at
night. I felt too jumpy and anxious to relax unless it was a quick catnap
during the day. Beyond worrying that I might have a nightmare and
sleepwalk around the infirmary, terrifying the patients, every day that
passed without searching for the Gate of Light brought me closer to panic.
“Soon,” I said. “I want to check if we have enough linens for
tomorrow.”
She managed a tired smile. “Good night.”
An hour later, I was folding clean rags and placing them in a neat pile
when the squeak of the door opening brought me sharply alert.
I relaxed as I recognized Arcus’s silhouette even before he entered the
glow of firelight. “It must be past midnight. Shouldn’t you be asleep?”
“I was on my way to bed when I decided to check if you were still
here. I’m glad I did.” Without another word, he took the folded linens from
my hands, put them aside, and swept me into his arms.
I bit off a yelp of surprise, and my hands came automatically around
his neck. “What are you doing?”
“Stealing you.”
“Stop, thief,” I whispered.
His teeth flashed white in the dark. “Just retrieving what’s mine.”
A pleasant shiver passed through me. My body didn’t seem to mind his
assessment of ownership. His strong arms holding me so securely calmed
my thoughts.
Still, I couldn’t let that claim go. “Yours?”
“No?” He lifted me and placed a hard kiss on my mouth.
My skin heated at the possession in that kiss, however much I might
object in principle. I leaned up and initiated one of my own, letting my lips
linger against his. “Unless you also belong to me.”
He was breathless when I pulled away, and I didn’t think it was from
taking the stairs two at a time. “I gladly agree to your terms.”
“My room is downstairs,” I pointed out.
“But mine isn’t.”
He pushed open a door at the end of a long hallway. The room was
small and spartan with only a dresser, washstand, and trunk. It was clearly
meant for a servant.
“You didn’t take the lord’s chamber?”
“Two whole families can fit in there. This is enough for me.”
He set me on the bed before unbuckling his sword belt and setting it on
the floor within reach. Then he removed his leather vest. I had already
undressed down to my chemise and was under the covers by the time he
joined me.
“You’re still dressed,” I pointed out.
“I’m so tired, I could sleep in full armor. Come here.” He turned on his
side and reached an arm around my waist to haul me to him, my back to his
front. I rested my arm alongside his. My heat soon enveloped both of us,
creating a snug cocoon under the quilt. He sighed and kissed the top of my
head. Contentment washed over me. Maybe I could actually sleep.
“Why did you bring me here?” I asked. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“Because I missed you,” he said, his voice a sleepy rumble. “And I
thought you might be missing me.”
 “I was.”
I wriggled under his arm until I was facing him. I wanted to see him.
The corners of his lips curved up slightly as I rested a hand on his shoulder,
but his eyes didn’t open. His breathing deepened. The tension in his face
eased, making him look both younger and more vulnerable. A protective
urge came over me—almost like it had as I held baby Gyda—to stand
between him and any harm that could come to him.
It was ironic that I carried the greatest danger in my heart.
“When do we go to Forsia?” I asked, hearing the desperate edge in my
voice. The sands in the hourglass were falling. We’d lost time by staying to
help the people in Tevros. For all we knew, Eurus could be at the Gate by
now.
Arcus’s eyes opened, bleary and unfocused. “I meant to tell you I
received a message from Brother Thistle. He’s at the abbey.”
“Why there?” Last we’d heard, he was still in the capital.
He yawned, his words slurring. “We’ll find out when we get there.
Can’t leave yet, though. A request for aid came from Collthorpe to the east.
Blue Legion trying to take control. Need to show up with a strong force,
show them I’m back. It’ll only take a couple of days.”
Frustration shot through me. “I need to give Brother Thistle The
Creation of the Thrones.” The sooner he studied the book, the sooner we
could find the Gate.
Arcus didn’t answer. His breathing had slowed into the gentle cadence
of slumber.
I lay there beside him, fighting sleep, afraid of my dreams.

Free! The ground rushed by below, the sparkling snow untainted as I

passed. I cast no shadow.
I was the shadow.
A black beach yielded to an ice-choked sea, miles upon miles. Then
gray shores, jagged cliffs, snowy mountains, snowy plains.
Cold didn’t touch us.
Nothing could.
 We traveled as a flock of moving smoke fanned out across the sky.
Thousands of us. Hungry.
Recognition came with stinging force. We felt them, the objects of our
wanting:
Mortals.
The pull of their minds, the euphoria of their dark emotions. Fear,
hatred, despair, delicious grief.
Irresistible, calling us with the scent of their blood, the pulse of their
hearts.
We swooped and dove.
Silent as the gloaming hush, we drizzled through fragile skin, filling
the vessels with the ink of our presence.
I chose my host with care, drawn by the flutter of strong emotion in her
steady heart. The female mortal held her young in her arms. I smelled the
blood of birth and knew her mind would be ripe for twisting. Corruption
was my gift.
She would fight me with everything in her, protecting her young to the
last tattered shreds of her will.
Then, exhausted, she would surrender. I would guide her hand as it
held the blade.
And she would hold her offspring in her arms and howl with grief.
Elation.
And when I broke her, I’d move on to another, and another…

I woke screaming. Eurus’s laughter echoed in my ears once again.

“No!” I clawed at the quilt, shoved it off. The soles of my feet met the
cold floor with a slap. My breath seized as images repeated in my mind.
Anda. The knife. Her baby, Gyda. Blood.
No no no.
I couldn’t breathe.
“Ruby, what’s wrong?” Arcus was already holding his glinting sword
as he stood next to me, searching the shadows for a threat.
 “I heard him laugh.” I lit a fire in my palm, half expecting to see
Eurus’s green eyes glowing from a shadowed corner, his teeth shining as he
laughed.
“Who?”
The room was empty.
“No,” I gasped, crawling back into bed. “No, it was just a dream.”
Cold sweat on my torso made me shiver. I pulled the quilt back on. “A
nightmare.”
He returned his sword to the bedside, then slid back under the quilt.
When he put his hands on my shoulders, I turned toward him, burrowing
into his chest.
“I’ve never heard you scream like that.” A shudder ran through him.
“You scared me half to death.”
“It was terrible.” I shook with remembered horror. “I can’t stop seeing
it.”
“Tell me.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it and shook my head. I wasn’t ready
to talk about it.
I had seen the world through the eyes of a Minax and felt its elation at
finally being free. If it had been a vision showing things as they happened,
then the Gate might already be open, the creatures already freed, and they
were even now spreading across the land like an unstoppable contagion.
And there would be nothing we could do.
As I continued to shake, Arcus rubbed his hands up and down my arms
and smoothed my hair back from my face. His cool lips pressed against my
forehead as his arms closed tight around me. “You’re safe now.”
Though his touch was comforting, I wasn’t so sure. I concentrated on
the creature in my heart, not blocking it out as I usually tried to do but
connecting with its mood as much as I could. I needed to know if what I’d
seen in my dream was real. If the Gate had opened, it would sense the
ripples from that momentous event, I was sure of it. Relief came over me as
I sensed no change. No gloating, no excitement. Nothing but a flicker of its
usual hunger for strong emotion. In fact, it was relatively quiet, merely
agitated into mild excitement by my fear. I had no reason to believe our
quest was already lost.
 I took several deep breaths until my heart calmed. I would check on
Anda and Gyda first thing in the morning, just to assure myself they were
well.
“Better?” Arcus asked, moving back a few inches to study me. We
faced each other, our heads sharing a pillow.
I nodded, though the nightmare had left me deeply unsettled. Even if it
wasn’t a premonition or vision of the present, it still felt like a threat. A
warning.
I couldn’t wait any longer.
“I have to leave for the abbey tomorrow.”
Arcus paused before answering, his irises turned silver by moonlight.
“I thought we agreed to leave in a few days.”
I moved my hands to grip his upper arms. “I need to get the book to
Brother Thistle. If you had seen what I’d seen in my nightmare…”
“Not even a day or two? I have to deal with the situation in
Collthorpe.”
“You can meet us at the abbey when you’re done there.”
His arms tensed under my hands. “I don’t want to be parted. I’ll go
with you.”
I didn’t want to be parted, either, but I hardened myself against his
resistance. “You said you wanted your people to know you’ve returned.
This is a good opportunity to show them, and also show the Blue Legion
that you won’t tolerate what they’re doing.”
“Yes.” He pulled me closer, his breath cold against my neck as he
buried his face in my hair. “But I have to choose what’s more important.
This is not the time to go haring off in two different directions. Anything
could happen—”
I moved back. “Are you worried for yourself or for me?”
He went silent for a minute, then sighed. “You. And before you tear
my head off, it’s not that I think you can’t handle yourself. In fact, I worry
you can handle yourself too well. With Brother Lack—”
“He brought out the worst in me. Don’t think just because I almost lost
control with him that I would in any situation. I promise I won’t succumb to
the Minax on the way to the abbey.” I couldn’t bear the thought that he saw
me as so wild that I needed tending, like an overgrown bonfire just waiting
to escape its bounds.
 Finally, he exhaled and said, “If you’re determined not to wait, I’ll
send a dozen soldiers with you.”
My temper fired unexpectedly, the Minax stoking the flames. I pushed
it back, furious that it was rising up to make everything worse. And yet, I
couldn’t stop the anger. “I don’t need protection. Or are they to act as
keepers in your place?”
Steel entered his tone. “They’re going with you, even if they have to
follow at your heels dodging your fire all the way.”
Though logically I knew his motives were protective, I hated the
suspicion that he also didn’t trust me. Even as I didn’t trust myself. “I don’t
want them at the abbey! Brother Thistle will be beside himself with soldiers
stomping around the place. I’ll take Kai if it would make you feel better, but
that’s it.”
“The soldiers can take you as far as Blackcreek and remain at the
garrison there.” He reached out to me hesitantly, his cool fingers encircling
my wrist where my pulse thudded a rapid beat, exerting gentle pressure
until it slowed.
My mind seemed to calm, too. I’d run out of arguments, at least
reasonable ones. “Fine,” I said grudgingly, “but only to placate you.”
“Thank you.” He relaxed, seeming relieved. “Do you think you can get
back to sleep?” Now that he’d secured my cooperation, he sounded tired
again. His voice was raspy as he struggled to stay awake.
“Yes,” I lied. “If you sleep, I think I can, too.”
“All right,” he said, uncertain. “But wake me if you have another
nightmare.”
“I will,” I lied, again.
 SIX

FORWIND ABBEY HUDDLED ITS GRAY bulk on a flat sweep of land on

Mount Una. As Kai and I crested the final stretch of road, the dark rectangle
of the tower loomed against the sky. Its smooth sides gazed pensively in
each direction as a tribute to all four wind gods. The tower was far older
than the rest of the crumbling abbey, and yet its stones were still solid and
tightly fitted.
I inhaled a deep lungful of cold, pine-tinged air. The crisp scent
reminded me of the village where I’d grown up, a short ride north. Less
than a year had passed since I’d first come to the abbey, but in some ways,
it felt like a lifetime ago.
It was just past noon, when the monks would all be inside at prayers.
Yet one errant monk bustled from the side door of the abbey, his face
wreathed in smiles.
Securing my satchel over my shoulder, I dismounted and ran to him,
only remembering to slow my pace when the sight of his bent back
reminded me that he wasn’t strong enough for me to fling myself into his
arms.
Instead, I embraced him carefully, registering the delicate, birdlike
bones of his shoulders while the filaments of his fine white hair tickled my
cheek like feathers. The scent of lavender, mint, and mugwort filled my
nose, bringing swift memories of being cared for in his infirmary when I’d
come here as a fugitive—angry and frightened and full of grief and rage
after my mother’s death and my subsequent imprisonment. He had healed
more than my wounds, his gentle presence a balm to my mind.
By the time I stepped back, I was blinking away happy tears.
“So, my young Ruby, you have finally returned,” Brother Gamut said,
his smile as broad and welcoming as I remembered.
I smiled back. “And, Brother Gamut, you’re still here.”
“It seems so,” he said, looking down at himself as if he might
disappear at any moment. “Did you expect me to pass on to the afterworld
in your absence?”
“Sud forbid. But I thought you might get restless without me and set
off on an ocean voyage to lands unknown.”
He chuckled. “I’ll leave that to you. I hear you have done that very
thing.” One blue-veined hand reached out to pat my arm. “I am glad you are
back safely.”
“It’s good to be—” I almost said home. “Back.”
I turned and motioned to Kai, who had dismounted and was leading his
horse behind me. “This is Prince Kai from Queen Nalani’s Fire Court of
Sudesia. Kai, this is Brother Gamut. He taught me everything I know about
herbs and healing.”
Brother Gamut acknowledged the introduction with a bow.
Kai inclined his head respectfully. “You have my sympathy. I know
what it’s like to have Ruby as a pupil.”
I made a disgruntled sound and turned away, leading my horse toward
the stable.
“Her temper can be quite remarkable,” said Brother Gamut from
behind me. “But she is a good child.”
“If you say so,” Kai replied, earning a narrow-eyed glare over my
shoulder.
After leaving our horses with Sister Clove in the stable, we entered the
dim interior of the abbey. Brother Gamut told us that we would sleep in the
guesthouses, as the abbey had an outbreak of fever. He assured us they were
keeping the illness contained but asked that we keep away from the
infirmary.
With an apology that he must return to his duties, he directed us down
the pillar-lined corridor to the locutory, a modest room filled with
threadbare chairs, worn rugs, and faded wall hangings depicting the gods.
The last time I’d been in the abbey, the locutory had been falling apart.
Over the past few months, Arcus’s donations had provided coin for repairs,
and I saw many signs of improvement: straight new beams, freshly
mortared stones, and tightly sealed windows where once the wind had
whistled through.
Brother Thistle sat in a chair under the narrow window, a book in his
lap. His white beard was trimmed close around his face, taking a few years
off his appearance from the last time I’d seen him.
 As I moved forward, his face creased into a broad smile. He set down
his book, grabbed the cane leaning against the chair, and rose.
“It’s so good to see you,” I said, tears forming in my eyes again as I
embraced him. I hadn’t seen him since before I left for Sudesia, and so
much had happened since then. I’d found out about my heritage, taken the
Fireblood trials, and become host to the Minax, none of which he knew. “I
missed you.”
“And I you, Miss Otrera,” he said affectionately. As we broke apart, he
gave my shoulder a final pat and looked me over, his expression a mix of
critical and concerned. I suddenly became self-conscious, beset by self-
doubt. Could he, with that discerning gaze, perceive that I had become
much more dangerous?
Brother Thistle had spent his adult life trying to find a way to destroy
Eurus’s curse on the thrones of Sudesia and Tempesia—which turned out to
be the two Minax he’d hidden inside each. But when the thrones were
destroyed, the Minax were released. In some ways, I had become Eurus’s
curse. The thrones were gone, and I was the fire Minax’s vessel, a walking
calamity that was one loss of control away from erupting into chaos and
destruction. And here I was in a place of worship and contemplation. It
gave me an odd feeling, a sense of displacement I hadn’t felt since first
coming to the abbey. As if I didn’t belong here.
I couldn’t seem to draw breath while I watched him examine me, his
head tilting to the side in puzzlement. “Is something wrong, Miss Otrera?”
Or maybe it was merely my own fears showing on my face. I shook
my head and forced a smile, stepping aside so that Kai could come forward.
Brother Thistle gave a small bow. “Prince Kai. If you please.” He
motioned to one of two lumpy, threadbare seats facing his.
“Arcus sends his regards,” I said as I took one of the chairs. “He
needed to take care of something, but he’ll follow in a couple of days. We
thought you’d be in the capital.”
He retook his seat and set his cane aside. “I had to leave sooner than
expected, but never fear. I have brought my research.” He motioned to piles
of books on a table, on the floor, and stacked in between mounds of scrolls
on shelves. A map was partially unrolled on a small side table, with
paperweights on each corner.
 As soon as Kai saw the map, he maneuvered past the haphazard
arrangement of books and bent over it.
Brother Thistle watched him suspiciously, then addressed me again.
“The library window is being repaired, so I had to find another haven for
my research.”
“The window Arcus broke during the fire?” I asked, the memories
more vivid now that I was in the abbey once again. Kai’s head lifted at that
reference, and he raised a brow, but then merely shook his head as if
dismissing his questions for later and went back to peering at the map.
“A small price to pay to save Sister Pastel’s life,” Brother Thistle said,
though his tone was somber. Arcus and I had saved her, only to lose her a
few weeks later when King Rasmus’s soldiers arrived. I had truly liked
Sister Pastel, who had taken the time to teach me how to illuminate a
manuscript.
“One person wasn’t so grateful for our help,” I said, pulling away from
the sad thoughts. “Brother Lack accused me of starting the fire, remember?
And he hasn’t changed much since then.”
“You saw him?” Brother Thistle asked in a tone of mild surprise. At
my nod, he asked, “Where?”
“Up until a week ago, he was overseer of Tevros.” I related what we’d
found on our arrival, how Arcus had imprisoned “Lord Grimcote,” and
what we’d done to restore order to the city.
While I spoke, Kai pulled another map from a pile and unrolled it on
the table. Brother Thistle’s lowered brows made a shelf over his penetrating
blue eyes. He was clearly irritated at Kai touching his precious things.
“Are you surprised about Brother Lack’s defection from the order?” I
asked to draw his attention back to me.
“Not really.” Brother Thistle pulled his watchful gaze from Kai with a
visible effort. “He followed our rules to the letter, but he had none of the
compassion necessary to interpret those rules. His mind tended to extremes.
I suppose it was natural for him to be drawn to the Blue Legion.”
“What do you think about this Winter of Purification business?” Kai
asked, his finger lightly touching the map, which once again drew Brother
Thistle’s agitated stare. “As a member of the Order of Fors, do you see it as
your god’s will?”
 Kai said Fors as if the name of the god of the north wind tasted bad in
his mouth. He didn’t seem as if he trusted Brother Thistle entirely.
Either the question or the treatment of his parchments seemed to push
the scholarly monk past the limits of endurance. He sat forward, leaning on
his cane. “Kindly take care! Some of those are rare and very old. There are
oils in your skin that will damage the pages.”
He was worried about his parchments, then. I should have known.
“I am quite aware of that,” Kai said, lifting a handkerchief to show that
he wasn’t touching the maps directly. “I know how to care for ancient
documents. It is part of the training for Fireblood masters.”
Brother Thistle absorbed that for a pause, then sat back, seeming
mollified for the moment. “My apologies, Prince Kai. I learned much from
the Fireblood masters of Sudesia, and had I known you were one, I would
have realized you would treat these items respectfully.” He sounded calmer
as he answered Kai’s question. “I cannot claim to understand the will of the
gods. The winter has been unusually harsh.” He toyed with the end of his
cane absently. “But the real threat comes from the soldiers sent to raid grain
stores and steal from anyone they deem ‘not Frostblood enough.’ They
claim that Fors has sent the winter to wipe out anyone whose gift is too
weak, then they steal food and befoul wells to drive people from their
homes. It’s revolting and unconscionable.”
“Is this truly a surprise?” Kai asked coldly. “If your court had no
qualms about murdering Firebloods, no scruples would prevent them from
attacking their own people at a whim.”
“Indeed, I put nothing past them,” Brother Thistle agreed, earning a
surprised look from Kai. “The kingdom has gone mad.”
“Perhaps it isn’t Fors, then,” I said, realization dawning. “Eurus could
be behind all this.”
Brother Thistle made an open-palm gesture. “But how? The frost
Minax is gone, so there is no direct way that Eurus has influenced the
nobility. I fear the evil in our kingdom stems from within.”
After a somber pause, Kai paced from the maps to the scrolls, using his
handkerchief to pluck one from the pile. “What hope is there for an alliance
with Sudesia if your court is intent on killing or driving away anyone who
isn’t the most powerful of Frostbloods?”
 Brother Thistle sighed. “I have no answer. Too many members of court
have been corrupted by the Blue Legion’s influence.”
“Did they hurt you?” I asked, alarmed. “Is that why you left?”
“They had done nothing yet, but it was only a matter of time. I spoke
out against the Blue Legion and soon heard that they planned to detain and
question me as part of their ‘investigation’ over the assassination attempt on
the king and delegates on the night of the harvest ball. I cannot help you if
I’m rotting away in a dungeon. So I came here.”
“I’m surprised they allowed you to leave.”
“I suppose they did not see me as a true threat.” His expression soured.
“It is a terrible thing to see injustices and be unable to stop them. I begin to
feel old and useless.”
Offended on his behalf, I leaned forward. “You’re every bit as useful
as ever! We came here because we need you.”
“Yes?” He sat straighter, his spare frame practically humming with
banked eagerness. His eyes shifted to the satchel I’d rested on the floor next
to my chair with a curious, almost greedy, expression.
He knew I’d gone to Sudesia to retrieve The Creation of the Thrones
and must have been dying to ask me if I had it. He’d have to wait a bit
longer. Once he held that ancient tome, I’d lose his attention for hours, if
not days.
“I have to tell you a few things before I explain how you can help,” I
said, trying not to smile at his impatience. I quickly filled him in on my
time in Sudesia, including the fact that I was, amazingly, the queen’s niece.
He sat back in his seat, appearing stunned. “Remarkable. Just
remarkable. I would like to claim I had some suspicion of your heritage,
Miss Otrera, but I did not. It never occurred to me that you could be the
missing princess, though I had heard tales of your mother and her infant
daughter disappearing in the night.” His eyes widened. “I can no longer call
you Miss Otrera, can I? You are Princess Ruby now.”
“Please,” I said, “don’t.”
“She is not yet entirely comfortable with her new title,” Kai said,
finally dropping into the seat next to me. “She requires… breaking in.”
I made a face. “Like a new pair of boots?”
“Like a wild filly,” he clarified.
“Ugh, Kai. As if that’s better.”
 “Far better,” he said with a wicked grin. I rolled my eyes.
Taking a breath for courage, I continued my story, finally getting to the
part about Eurus. “He considers me his creation,” I explained, my hands
clasped tightly in my lap. “He calls me his Nightblood daughter, which of
course I reject. But there’s no denying… I am a Nightblood.” It was harder
to admit than I’d thought. “I’m sure that’s why the frost Minax marked me
after I melted the throne of Fors.” I touched the heart-shaped mark on my
left cheek near my ear. “It recognized me as its ‘true vessel’ from the
beginning. Someone capable of hosting it indefinitely.” I swallowed,
forcing myself to meet Brother Thistle’s eyes. “And I know it was right
because I’ve been hosting the fire Minax for weeks.”
He went very still. “Even now?” he asked in a low voice, as if the
creature might hear. Which wasn’t unreasonable since the Minax was
soaking up the tension and anxiety in the room.
I nodded, feeling almost panicked at how he might react. How would
Brother Thistle treat me now? It was one thing to find out I was of royal
blood, quite another to find out my heart had been so corrupted that I could
play host to a merciless shadow forever.
Kai must have picked up on my agitation. He reached out to put a hand
over mine, which bolstered me enough that I could answer. “Ever since
Arcus and I destroyed the throne of Sud.”
It seemed an eternity before Brother Thistle finally took a breath. His
eyes shifted away. “That is unfortunate.”
I paused, waiting for more. Waiting for him to denounce me, revile me,
order me to leave his abbey and never return. I held my breath, unable to
move.
He leaned forward with knitted brows. “How do you feel?” he asked in
a tone of such gentle concern—so uncharacteristic of him—that my throat
closed up completely.
I opened my mouth and closed it several times, shock waves of relief
radiating through me before I could finally choke out, “It varies.”
He sat back. “I imagine it does. I am sorry, Miss Otrera.”
I could only nod, blinking against the sudden prick of tears. The Minax
moved restlessly, disappointed with this outcome. Acceptance and caring
were not its favorite things.
 “Ruby is bearing up well,” Kai said, seeming to know that I was
struggling to speak. “She has nightmares, though. Terrible ones, I think.”
“The frustrating thing is not knowing if I’m seeing past, present,
future, or just my own fears playing out in my dreams.”
“I suspect it could be more than one of those options,” Brother Thistle
said thoughtfully. “Why don’t you tell me what you remember?”
“Soon, but we have more pressing matters.” I relayed the rest of the
story, including the frost Minax’s destruction. Finally, I told him Eurus’s
plans to open the Gate.
“Dear gods,” he breathed, clearly horrified. His eyes darted around the
room as if not knowing where to settle. He seemed to be having trouble
drawing breath.
“Brother Thistle, are you all right?”
With a trembling hand, he pointed at a bookshelf, his voice shaking as
he said, “Young prince, if you would, there is a decanter behind those
books.”
Kai hopped up and pulled books out where Brother Thistle indicated,
finding a decanter filled with amber liquid and a glass.
“You drink spirits?” I asked in shock as Kai poured and the monk took
a liberal swallow.
“Only when the news is especially bad,” he said roughly, motioning
Kai to refill his glass. Kai and I shared a raised-brow look, amused.
“So you can see why we desperately need your help,” I concluded as
Brother Thistle set his empty glass down, and Kai refilled it, this time
returning with it to his own seat.
Brother Thistle looked down for a minute, hiding his expression.
Finally, he turned to Kai. “Your queen is truly willing to form an alliance?”
Kai gave me a measured look, then replied, “If Eurus opens the Gate
of Light, the creatures won’t distinguish between Frostblood and Fireblood,
Tempesian and Sudesian. They will devour us all impartially. Queen Nalani
understands that we can only win if we stand together. She has promised
ships and soldiers if the alliance is agreed upon by the Frost Court.”
“We have to make them see that the threat is real, and no one is safe
unless Frostbloods and Firebloods join together,” I added. “But more
important, we need a destination for all those ships. We need to find the
Gate. That’s where you come in.”
 “And how do you expect me to do that?” He looked pointedly at the
satchel, his hand opening and closing as if he wanted to grab it and search it
himself.
Taking pity on him, I opened the bag and drew out the black book with
gold lettering spelling The Creation of the Thrones in Sudesian.
One unsteady hand came up to cover his mouth, making him look like
a child given a surprise present. He quickly pulled a pair of linen gloves
from his pocket, tugging them on. His hands shook as they stretched out to
accept the coveted tome. He smoothed reverent gloved fingers over the gold
letters before opening it with extreme care. After a minute, he looked up.
“Well done, Miss Otrera.”
I grinned. “We asked the Fireblood masters to study the book, but they
couldn’t find any directions to the Gate of Light. However, there are pages
written in Ventian they couldn’t decipher. We’re hoping you’ll see
something they missed.”
“I know this book well. As you know, I was in possession of the
Tempesian copy for a time.” He shook his head. “It is a great tragedy that
King Rasmus destroyed so many books during his reign.”
“I take it you can read ancient Ventian?”
“Of course I can,” he snapped, glaring at me fiercely.
I stifled a laugh at his prickly pride. “Good.”
After a minute of turning pages, he nodded, then read for a few
minutes more. Pointing at the page, his lips curved up at the corners. Then
he looked at Kai, his eyes alight with triumph. “If you are like most
Sudesians, I would assume you are an avid sailor. Is that correct?” At Kai’s
nod, he asked, “Do you know the islands west of Tempesia?”
“Some,” the prince replied. “A hundred frozen little islands, most of
them uninhabited. It’s a good place to ambush unsuspecting Frostblood
ships, not that you’d find that information useful, I suppose. It’s a rough
passage in winter. Is that where you think the Gate of Light is located?”
“It is quite plain in the book. The Gate is on an island called the Isle of
Night. Have you heard of it?”
Kai shook his head. “I don’t recall seeing it on any maps.”
“Wait—that’s it?” I interjected. “No research? No translations and
consultations and guesswork? You already know where the Gate is?” I
jumped to my feet and moved to lean over the book.
 “It is absent from most maps,” Brother Thistle told Kai, ignoring my
outburst. “It says the island is perpetually cloaked in fog, hidden from the
eyes of mortals.” He wore a disgusted look. “I cannot believe the masters
don’t read ancient Ventian.”
“Yes, we were all shocked,” I said drily, returning to my seat. Ancient
Ventian just looked like squiggles to me, anyway.
“Master Dallr might,” Kai mused, “but frankly, he didn’t seem eager to
help us in any way.”
“He hates me,” I said, “for destroying his queen’s precious throne.”
Brother Thistle waved a hand. “More likely he hadn’t realized the
treasure he held here. It says the Isle of Night is three days west of the
compass, where the sea bleeds.”
“Bleeds?” Kai echoed curiously. “I suppose that could refer to
volcanoes emptying into the sea.”
“Possibly,” Brother Thistle agreed. “But what is the center of the
compass? Now, that will require more research, Miss Otrera.”
Kai made a thoughtful noise. “Actually, it could refer to a cluster of
four islands, shaped like arrows. They’re known as the Compass, though
they’re rarely marked on maps, as they’re part of the Gray Isles.
Unoccupied with little value except as a navigation point, although
sometimes used by sailors who operate their business, how shall I say,
outside the usual channels.”
“Pirates, you mean,” I said. It was all I could muster, as I was having a
hard time getting over the shock that we had already discovered so much
more than we knew moments ago.
Kai inclined his head. “If the Gate is three days west of the Compass,
that puts our goal somewhere in the Gray Isles. At least we have a starting
point.”
“Indeed,” Brother Thistle replied, a fervent look coming into his eyes.
Watching the way Kai’s eyes burned with equal enthusiasm, I couldn’t
help but smile. “A Frostblood master and a Fireblood master working
together to solve an ancient riddle. Whatever would the Blue Legion say?”
“Don’t celebrate yet,” Kai warned. “The Gray Isles are spread over
hundreds of miles; they’re actually the peaks of an underground mountain
range. We could spend weeks sailing all over the area, and it’s the worst
time of year to do it. We need to narrow our search.”
 I hesitated before saying, “I’ve been wondering if I might have
recently seen the island. My last night in Tevros, I had a dream.”
I didn’t add that I’d seen the world through the eyes of a Minax. I
didn’t want Brother Thistle to know how elated I’d felt in the dream,
roaming with murderous glee in search of mortals to possess.
As the horror threatened to sweep over me again, I reminded myself
that I’d checked on Anda and Gyda before leaving Tevros and they’d both
been fine. The Gate wasn’t open. Yet.
“What did it look like?” Kai asked.
I described the snow-covered plain and black beach. With its onyx
cliffs, it did seem like a place that could bear that name: the Isle of Night.
“I don’t think it’s enough,” he said finally, with regret. “I can’t narrow
it down from that.”
It was infuriating to have glimpses of things and have no idea what
they meant. It made me feel like a puppet with my strings being pulled. I hit
the arm of my chair with my fist. “I wish Sage would make an appearance.”
Sage was a mysterious figure who came to me in visions, sometimes
offering information just when I needed it. I only really knew what I’d
learned from the old tales: She was mortal but had been given the gifts of
long life and prophecy as a reward for healing the goddess Cirrus, who had
exhausted herself trapping the Minax in their underground prison. Though
Sage had helped me in the past, she had been silent for months.
Brother Thistle chewed on his lower lip. “I do not see how. She cannot
be summoned.”
I looked at Kai, but he merely shook his head and shrugged. Visions
weren’t his area of expertise.
“Isn’t there some way to… to help the mind become more receptive to
visions?” I leaned forward. “Brother Thistle, you taught me to calm my
mind in order to use my gift. Isn’t there anything that would help me see
Sage?”
He rested his elbows on his knees and laced his fingers together,
staring at me for several seconds before saying, “There may be something.”
A slow smile spread over his face. “Yes, I do believe I have something in
mind. It may not work. And there is a certain amount of risk to you. Do you
still want to try it?”
 Kai cleared his throat. “Your icicle of a king isn’t going to like this,”
he warned.
I ignored Kai and gave Brother Thistle a determined look. “You
weren’t really in any doubt, were you? Just tell me what to do and it’s
done.”
“The tower,” he replied with an eager glitter in his eyes, “at midnight.”
 SEVEN

A FEW MINUTES BEFORE MIDNIGHT, I was at the tower door, pushing until
the stubborn oak yielded with a groan. I slipped inside, my boots stirring up
a cloud of long-settled dust. For a few seconds, the sound of my sneezing
ricocheted through the empty foyer, the echoes profanely loud in the solemn
dark.
My flame-filled palm lit the way up narrow stone steps, each tread
worn into a smiling curve by the passage of many feet. I climbed until the
stairs ran out, the roof opening to a cloudless, star-strewn sky. The wind
fought the fire in my palm, so I let it die, waiting a minute for my eyes to
adjust. Deep shadows marked the embrasures in the six-foot protective wall
hugging all four sides of the tower.
Though I couldn’t see much more than an undulating silhouette, I
heard Brother Thistle’s robes whipping in the rising wind. He stood on the
westward side of the tower, his back to me. I came up beside him, peering
out at the night, knowing what we would see in daylight: the barren patch of
land where we used to practice my sparring, and past that, a thick pine
forest choked with snow.
“Remember when I couldn’t even manage to burn a shrub?” I asked
softly, each word snatched and twisted by the wind.
“How could I forget?” He turned toward me, though I felt it more than
saw it. “I was constantly on my guard lest you roast me by accident.”
“You should have been worried I’d roast you on purpose. I was quick
to anger back then.”
“Back then?” he said pointedly. When I made a sound, half laugh, half
annoyance, he chuckled. “The trick for you was learning to harness your
power in moments of calm, rather than relying on your temper to let it
explode. As I recall, learning to ignite a candle was almost more of a
challenge for you than creating a conflagration.”
“That’s what really impressed you? The fact that I finally learned to
light a candle? Nothing like setting your expectations low.”
 “Nonsense. Restraint and delicacy are the marks of complete mastery
of a skill.”
I grimaced. “Delicacy was never my strong suit.”
“And yet you have as refined an approach in your art as any Fireblood
master.”
My cheeks heated with embarrassed pleasure. “Thank you.”
It was touching to receive praise from my teacher, especially in the
very place where I’d started to learn. I felt a sense of rightness, of a circle
being completed, and my heart lightened.
He cleared his throat, a touch awkward after giving a compliment.
“Provide us some light, Miss Otrera, if you please. We have work to do, and
we need light and focus. I am glad you persuaded the prince he would only
be a distraction.”
“Me too.” I sensed that I’d need my entire focus for this. I relit my
palm, holding it low against the wall to protect the flame from the wind.
Reaching into his pocket, he drew out a silver box covered with
engravings. The firelight painted the lid orange as he unlatched it and
reached long, thin fingers into the velvet-lined interior. With infinite care,
he extracted a roll of dun-colored cloth.
“Be careful,” he said, offering the roll to me. “Do not drop it.”
I extinguished the fire in my palm and cooled my temperature before
accepting it.
“This is the relic?” A shiver slid down my spine as I smoothed my
fingertip over the stiff, almost brittle, remnant. Sudden dizziness swept over
me, but I fought it off. There was nothing fine or special about the fabric
itself. If I hadn’t known better, I would have guessed it was an ancient
cleaning rag.
“Yes, it is a piece of the very cloth that Sage wrapped around the
goddess Cirrus when she fell to earth, exhausted from her labors.”
I nodded. We had discussed all this beforehand, how he hoped my
ability to see visions would allow me to communicate with Sage if I
touched something of hers. There was even a legend that this tower was
near the place where Cirrus had fallen after she imprisoned the Minax
underground and created the Gate of Light to keep them from escaping.
According to legend, a mortal woman, Sage, had found Cirrus and nursed
her back to health. In gratitude, Cirrus had filled Sage with sunlight, giving
her powers of healing and foresight.
Even though the book had given us clues about the Gate’s general
location, following its vague directions wasn’t going to be fast enough. As I
considered how desperately we needed this to work, I fought a sense of
panic, and my hands crushed the cloth convulsively. The fabric took my
heat and offered it back to me, sending a tingling through my palms.
“Careful, Ruby,” Brother Thistle said. He motioned to the flagstones.
“You’d better sit.”
I sat with my legs crossed, my back braced against the stone wall, then
poured out just enough heat to warm myself until I was comfortable. I took
a deep breath, then closed my eyes.
“You will need to calm your mind,” Brother Thistle said. “Be open to
the connection.”
I nodded, knowing what he wanted me to do. Breathing evenly, I
repeated the word of power Brother Thistle had given me when he’d trained
me, waiting until a sense of stillness pervaded my mind before rubbing my
hands against the cloth. I ignored every sense other than touch, feeling the
cool, rough fibers. Instinctively, I poured out a touch of heat.
Almost instantly, a sun burst behind my eyelids. “I see light!”
“What else?” Brother Thistle asked eagerly.
I shook my head. “Too bright. Wait.” My heart cantered into a nervous
rhythm, my hands growing clammy against the cloth. “A shadow. A figure.
Someone walking toward me.”
“Tell me everything you see.” His voice grew distant.
“The figure is tall. She’s wearing a robe. Wait, it’s not a robe, it’s a
gown.” I trembled and turned my head away, struggling against the
brightness that kept increasing until my head ached. The hair on my nape
rose, and my stomach swooped and lifted as if I were at sea during a storm.
“I feel strange.…”
“Stay with it,” Brother Thistle’s muted voice said. “Tell me what you
see.”
A woman’s features began to materialize from the shimmering fog. “I
see her. She’s smiling. She’s… beautiful. It’s not Sage, though. I think it’s
—”
I gasped and gritted my teeth as a blinding pain stabbed into my head.
 “Miss Otrera? Ruby!” Brother Thistle’s shouts faded away completely
as my breath evened out and the ache faded.
When I looked down at my hands, they were empty, the relic gone. I
was standing dressed in a white robe that pooled at my feet. My arms were
bare, my wrists covered in gold bands, a rope of twined gold belted around
my waist. My skin seemed cooler than usual, and I felt stronger, my mind
sharper.
I couldn’t feel the Minax inside me at all. Relief swamped me, though
I also felt strange. I hadn’t understood how much I’d become accustomed to
its presence.
Realizing the woman had stopped in front of me, I curtsied deep,
holding my head down.
“You may rise,” she said, her voice low and soft and wonderful. I
looked up, following the lines of her gown, woven in threads of gold. Her
arms were also bare, the skin dark brown and smooth. My gaze followed
the elegant line of her throat, where a thick braid hung over one shoulder,
my perusal ending at her eyes. I gasped and started to shake. Her eyes were
made of light, with no irises or pupils. After a few moments, the light
dimmed until her eyes became discs of bright gold.
“Do not fear me,” she said. “I am Cirrus.”
I felt so overwhelmed, I couldn’t even manage to feel shocked. We had
tried to summon Sage and had summoned a goddess instead. The power of
her presence brought helpless tears to my eyes. I let them roll down my
cheeks unchecked. I couldn’t seem to move to wipe them away.
“You are Ruby Otrera,” she said, her words accented but clear.
I could only stare, my heart exploding against my ribs. When my
knees buckled, she reached out and took my upper arm in her hand.
“You are the first mortal I have spoken to in many an age,” she said in
her raw-silk voice. “Not since Sage have I communicated with another.”
She squeezed my arm gently, and a rush of peace filled me. It was the
most glorious feeling. I wanted to stay in this moment forever.
“Sage has claimed you as her own,” she added, “and so I cherish you
as I cherish her.”
Her words filled me with a sense of delight.
“Why did you seek me, Ruby?”
 My brow furrowed as I searched my memory. My thoughts were
jumbled and confused, filled with awe at the splendor of the goddess.
“I don’t know,” I admitted ruefully.
She laughed, and I raised my face to the sound, as if I were basking in
sunlight.
“Mortal minds are wondrous strange! They dream of worlds, yet hold
so little.” Her hand came to lift my chin. “You came to ask something of
me, did you not?”
I struggled to remember. From some great distance, I heard Brother
Thistle calling my name. A sensation of cold touched my forehead and
cheeks, and I thought perhaps he was putting his hands to my face. It came
to me that somewhere far away, my body sat on a tower roof while my
spirit traveled.
A cold sting on my cheek shocked me from the sense of floating
peace, and the urgency in his voice jolted my mind into clarity.
“The Minax!” I exclaimed, all the threads coming together. “Eurus
wants to free them.”
Cirrus’s eyes narrowed with some emotion, dimming the light. The
vision’s brightness diminished, too.
I glanced around, suddenly fearful of darkness invading this place.
“You have little time,” she said with a hint of warning. “You must
leave here soon.”
Brother Thistle called my name again, frantic.
“Where is the Gate of Light?” I asked, recalling my purpose.
She sighed. “I am not allowed to tell a mortal the location of the Gate.”
“But Eurus is on his way there to open it!”
She hesitated. “The Gate cannot be opened from the outside.”
Relief surged through me. “So, we’re safe? He can’t open it?”
She shook her head. “The Gate is battered from within. A flaw has
formed. A rift that Eurus intends to widen.”
“A rift?” My relief was short-lived. “How do we fix it?”
“It can only be repaired by someone with the gift of sun.”
“Sage?”
“Sage has the gift,” she confirmed.
“Is there a way to destroy the Minax if they do get free?”
 “A creature made by a god may be altered by a mortal, but it cannot be
destroyed.”
I closed my eyes in despair.
She added, “But light balances darkness, and frost balances fire. The
mixture of the two can have a temporary effect on the shadows.”
I struggled to understand. “Do you mean frostfire? Frostfire weakens
the Minax?”
She gave a single nod.
Hope surged anew. At least she had given me that much.
“What can you tell me about the Gate?” I spoke rapidly, feeling like
my hourglass was nearly empty. “If you can’t tell me its location, can you at
least tell me if it still stands? Is it safe for now?”
“I cannot interfere in mortal conflicts,” she reiterated.
“But Eurus is interfering!”
“My brother does not break his vow—yet. He is in mortal form,
vulnerable to mortal needs and threats, so he does not break our mother’s
rule of noninterference.”
“If that’s allowed, then can you also take a mortal form to help us?”
She shook her head. “I swore not to.”
“All these vows! What good are they if they prevent you from helping
anyone?”
“Who are we without our vows, which are the laws we create for
ourselves? Only vows keep the sun rising each morning, and the sea from
covering the land. If we abandon our own rules, we are surrendering to
chaos.”
Tears gathered in my eyes again, and this time, they were not from joy
but frustration. Here was a source of limitless knowledge and unfathomable
power, and I couldn’t persuade her to share much of either. What could I
say to get her to help?
She cared about Sage. That much I knew.
I laced my fingers together and took a breath. “You say you cherish
Sage. She hasn’t come to me in a vision for a long time. Can you at least
tell me if she’s in trouble?”
Cirrus was silent for a moment, then nodded. She stepped close, her
warmth embracing me, and touched a fingertip to my forehead. A spark of
energy made me close my eyes.
 I saw another scene. A vision within a vision.
In a stone corridor, a muscular man held a woman by the arm, tugging
her along. Her dress was dirty and torn, her gait unsteady. She stumbled, her
long, golden hair swaying. Her captor yanked her upright none too gently.
“Get your paws off me, you stinking animal,” the woman snarled,
shoving at him.
I knew that voice. It wasn’t Sage, but it was someone familiar,
someone whose voice usually sounded smoother, composed and cultured as
she delivered sarcastic barbs.
“Marella!” I gasped in shock.
The guard merely chuckled and grabbed a handful of her unbound hair,
twisting it until she yelped, then pushed her forward again.
After passing a series of cells, they stopped in front of one. Inside, a
woman was hunched over in a corner.
Not Sage, either. The Sage of my visions was young, her hair gold, her
hands smooth. This woman had white hair, the tangled strands matted with
filth. The fingers that rested on her knees were twisted with age.
The guard extracted a set of keys, unlocked the door, and shoved
Marella in. She fell to her knees on a pile of dirty straw. The door clanged
shut. She scrambled up and threw herself at the bars, as if she could pull
them apart with her bare hands. Her face was as gaunt as it had been the last
time I’d seen her.
“My father is the acting regent of Tempesia!” she shouted, her violet
eyes glowing with hatred. “Let me go or you’ll pay with your life!”
Her torn gown had fallen off one shoulder, revealing a reddened area
of raised skin. It looked like a burn scar. Or a brand.
The vision dissolved.
Once again, I found myself facing Cirrus. But the light of her eyes had
dimmed. She started to fade.
“No, wait!” I shouted. “Tell me what it means! Where’s Sage? I don’t
know what you want me to do!”
“Find her,” she said with urgency. “Help her.”
Wind whipped against my cheeks, and the scent of pine filled my
nostrils. Icy hands shook my shoulders.
Cirrus disappeared, and the floating gold sparks in her hair turned into
stars set into a cold, black sky.
 EIGHT

“SHE’S WAKING!”
My skin burned. I couldn’t seem to open my swollen eyelids. Thick
blankets held me down.
“Easy, easy,” Kai said, taking my shoulders. “Do you want the quilts
off? No need to do battle. You nearly kicked me somewhere vital.”
I sighed with relief when the weight came off and cool air hit my skin.
“Better?” Kai asked, his face inches from mine when I opened my
eyes.
My voice was clogged with gravel. “You don’t put quilts on someone
with a fever.”
Relief lit his eyes. “You were shivering, Princess Grump.” He laughed
and straightened. “I think she’ll be fine.”
Brother Thistle’s voice shook as he bent over me. “Thank Fors. And
Tempus.” He swiped a hand over his face. “All the gods! I think I prayed to
each one.”
“Water?” I pleaded. My throat felt as if it had been scraped with a
bundle of twigs.
Kai supported my head as I drank, then set me back against the pillows
before stepping back.
I saw that we were in one of the abbey’s guesthouses. It was snug, with
only enough room for a bed, table, and wardrobe. The room felt extra
cramped since it also contained a prince and not one, but two, anxious
monks: Kai, Brother Thistle, and Brother Gamut, all hovering over me.
I narrowed my eyes. “Could you please stop looking at me like I’m
dying?”
Brother Thistle stepped back. Brother Gamut smiled and clapped his
hands as if I’d said something wonderful.
“I will go make you some of my tea,” the healer monk said as he
hastened to the door. “It will make you feel much better.”
 Brother Thistle stared down at me, his tone accusing. “We were very
worried. You collapsed, and I had to wake Prince Kai to carry you from the
tower. In the meantime, the fever raging through the abbey has worsened.
Some of the brothers and sisters are gravely ill. We thought you might be
afflicted as well.”
“I honestly feel fine. A bit sore.” I tried to stretch my spine, my
muscles protesting every movement. “Kai probably dropped me when he
carried me here.”
Kai leaned against the wall, arms folded. “Only once. Maybe three
times.”
I finally noticed his appearance. His tunic was stained and his boots
were dusty and scuffed. His chin was darkened by auburn whiskers, and his
glittering gold-brown eyes had dark circles under them.
“What in Sud’s name happened to you?”
“You happened. You slept for two days, slugabed. I neglected myself
for Brother Thistle’s sake. He thought you needed tending through the
night.”
“And you couldn’t find your razor in all that time?” I’d never seen him
anything but clean shaven.
“How uncharitable, Ruby. I thought you would find me dashing.” He
swept a hand up and down. “My noble person haggard from taking such
tender care of you.”
He didn’t look haggard, just a little disheveled, and he must have
known it only made him more attractive.
“I can believe more than ever that you were once a swashbuckling
pirate,” I said rather than admitting my thoughts.
“Once?” He grinned. “Oh no. Once a pirate, always a pirate.”
“I am sorry to interrupt your… empty prattle,” Brother Thistle said,
sounding anything but sorry, “but did you see Sage in your vision, Ruby?”
“No.” At his crestfallen expression, I added, “I saw Cirrus.”
His eyes rounded, and he gripped the side of the wardrobe as if he
needed the support. “The goddess herself!”
“Maybe that’s why I got the fever,” I mused. “Seeing a goddess must
be much more powerful than seeing Sage.”
“Perhaps,” Brother Thistle said, noncommittal. “Did Cirrus speak to
you?”
 I smiled. “She was a regular gossip.”
“Miss Otrera! That is no way to speak of a goddess.”
I wrinkled my nose, remembering my complete awe while in Cirrus’s
presence. Maybe he was right. And “gossip” was a gross exaggeration,
anyway. I’d had to pry answers out of her. “I asked her where the Gate of
Light is, and she said she couldn’t tell me.”
“What else?” Brother Thistle prodded.
“She said that frostfire will weaken the Minax, though nothing can
destroy them. ‘No mortal can destroy the creation of a god’ were her words,
I believe.” My lips twisted. “So that was encouraging.”
“If that is true,” he said thoughtfully, “then we must have both
Frostbloods and Firebloods together when we approach the Gate. In case
the unthinkable happens.”
“One problem,” I reminded him. “Only royalty—direct descendants of
kings and queens—can create frostfire. That’s what The Creation of the
Thrones says, isn’t it?”
He stroked his chin. “It says that only royalty can create true frostfire,
the element in its most powerful form. However, a weaker form could still
be useful, if such a thing exists.”
“You and Kai could conduct a test,” I suggested. “If you two can create
frostfire, others should be able to as well.”
He nodded. “We can try. Did the goddess tell you anything else?”
“Yes, but it’s confusing. I asked her how to find Sage, and instead she
showed me a vision of Marella in a prison cell and told me to rescue her.”
Kai’s brows rose. “At least we know she’s alive. I was sure Eurus
would have… discarded… her after they disappeared in Sudesia.”
I nodded. “Yes, but I don’t know for how long. It looked like she’d
been mistreated. Her clothes were more like rags, and she had a burn scar
on her shoulder. The guard wasn’t gentle with her, either. He had a rather
brutish, piratey look about him. No offense, Kai.”
“What made you think he was a pirate?” he asked.
“I suppose it was his tattoos.”
“Do you remember them?”
I closed my eyes. “There were so many. An anchor, a rope knotted in
the shape of a heart. A lock overlapping a coin. A door with an arrow
through its keyhole.”
 His brows rose. “Now that’s something. Was the lock open?”
“Did I mention this was in the midst of a vision of someone hurting
Marella, Kai? I wasn’t exactly focusing on the tattoos.”
He swore. “Still. I think you’ve found one of Liddy’s people.”
Brother Thistle leaned forward eagerly. “Who?”
“An old acquaintance. Liddy the Lender—although she has expanded
her operation to include other, more lucrative endeavors. The dart through a
keyhole is a reference to one of her more infamous assassinations. The open
lock with a coin means the guard was a mercenary, open to working for
anyone who pays a fee.”
Brother Thistle tilted his head. “For what purpose would this Liddy
imprison Lady Marella?”
“Who knows?” Kai replied. “Maybe she raided the ship Marella was
on and realized she’s valuable. Probably plans to ransom her.”
That made sense. “But… Eurus kidnapped Marella, so that means he
might have been on the same ship,” I pointed out. “Liddy might have
captured him, too!”
“That would be very convenient,” Kai replied. “But we can’t depend
on it. I imagine he’s wily enough to evade capture.”
“Can you get us to your moneylender?” Brother Thistle asked.
“She’s not my moneylender.” Kai shuddered. “Liddy is as bloodthirsty
a pirate as you’ll ever meet. But yes, I can get us to her.”
Everything was coming together, finally. “Good. We can leave
tomorrow for Tevros, stopping at Collthorpe for Arcus on the way.”
Kai scrunched his face up. “About that. He might be on his way here.
We sent word to him that you were ill.”
“You what?” I slung an arm over my eyes. “Why would you do such a
thing?”
“If he were ill, wouldn’t you want to know?”
“Yes, of course. Just… he’s going to be worried for nothing.” More
specifically, he was going to shout and make a ruckus and be impossible.
“You’ll have to catch him on the road and tell him I’m better. We need you
in Tevros anyway to start preparing to sail.”
“There’s the princess side of you coming through,” Kai said with a
laugh. “I’m truly convinced you’re fine now.”
 I dropped my arm, looking up at him gratefully. “Thank you for doing
this.”
“Of course. I’ll leave first thing.” He slid his fingers through his
tousled hair. “Well, I’m going to have a bath and shave before bed. If I’m to
be murdered by an irate king, I want to look my best for the funeral.”
“Ruby’s illness was not your fault,” Brother Thistle stated. “Using the
relic to spark a vision was my idea.”
“Yes, but I’m here, and he doesn’t like me,” Kai reminded him. “A
convenient scapegoat for his worry. I had better sharpen my sword.”
My hands curled into fists. “You’re not going to fight! Your gifts are
evenly matched. You could kill each other.”
“All the more reason to have a sword ready.” Kai chuckled. “Be at
ease, Ruby. I was teasing.” He took my clenched hand and smoothed his
thumb over my knuckles. “I’m glad you’re better. I missed you bossing me
around. Now that you’re well, I’m going to enjoy a good night’s sleep. If
you’re sure you’re all right?”
I waved him away. “Go. Good night. Brother Gamut should be here
any minute with his special tea. It’ll put me out like a light.”
Kai grinned, bowed, and moved to the door. “Sweet dreams, Princess.
Don’t sleep so long this time.”
When the door shut, Brother Thistle came to sit on the edge of the bed,
his manner unusually hesitant. “You saw a burn scar on Marella. Was it…”
He cleared his throat. “What did it look like?”
I gave him a curious look. I hadn’t really thought about it. I closed my
eyes again, letting the images form. “It was dark in the cell, but from what I
could see, the scar was sort of a semicircle with lines coming off it. Oh!”
“What?” he asked.
I opened my eyes, examining his pinched face curiously. “It reminds
me of Brother Lack’s seal. Lord Grimcote.” I waved a hand. “Whatever he’s
calling himself now. I told him a sun was too cheery for him.”
“It looked like a sun?” he asked, his pale blue eyes burning.
“Yes, I guess so. You’ve seen that symbol before?”
He swallowed but didn’t reply. His expression went from strained to
fearful. Trepidation crept up my spine.
Just then, the door burst open and Brother Gamut bustled in, beaming
as he held out a cup of tea. “Nice and hot, just the way you like it!”
 “I must consult my books.” Without looking at either of us, Brother
Thistle grabbed his cane and rushed from the guesthouse.
An erratic trail of frost coated the floor in his wake.
 NINE

INSTEAD OF NIGHTMARES, SLEEP brought a memory.

“Do you want me to finish telling you the story of Eurus?”
Grandmother asked from her perch on a three-legged stool. Night darkened
the window at her back. She wore her brightly patched cloak, her white hair
loosely braided and hanging over one shoulder. Her golden eyes crinkled at
the edges.
“Yes!” I was a child, about five or six years old, huddled under the
quilt she’d sewn for me, warm on my pallet next to the fire.
Mother was already asleep, tired after a long day of making medicines
to sell in the village. Fragrant bunches of herbs and flowers hung from the
ceiling, filling our cozy little hut with pleasantly green scents.
“Where did we leave off?” Grandmother prompted.
I summed up the previous night’s tale, using my hands to illustrate the
story, just like Grandmother did. “Eurus tried to kill his sister Cirrus, which
made their father, Tempus, furious! In punishment, Tempus banished him,
throwing him as faaaaar as he could across the seas. Eurus flew through the
air, tumbling end over end, until he landed on a deserted island. He lived
there all alone for a long, long time. That was where you stopped.”
“Ah, yes, I remember now.” She shifted on the stool, settling in. “So,
there he was, the great god Eurus, who’d once commanded the very winds.”
She leaned forward. “Banished and powerless. All alone on a bleak island
in a desolate, wintry sea. Well, his sister Sun had another punishment in
mind. She refused to shine her light on him. She drew clouds over her face
so the island would be cloaked in deep shade. Over time, the god of the east
wind became pale and sickly. His mind grew sluggish in the perpetual
gloom.”
“What’s sluggish mean?” I asked.
“Slow and dull. He couldn’t think very well anymore. And finally,
after many, many years, he lost the power of speech.”
“He couldn’t talk at all?”
 She shook her head, spreading her hands. “Not a bit. He forgot how.
Now, you’ll remember, he also had two other younger siblings.”
“The twins!” I chirped. I loved the twins.
“That’s right, the god Fors and the goddess Sud were young then, with
a thirst for adventure and an absence of fear that only children such as
yourself have.”
I grinned, enjoying the idea that I was fearless.
She smiled back. “In their travels across the world, they came across
Eurus’s island quite by accident and found themselves drawn to explore it.
As they wandered the beach covered in fine black sand, they met a grizzled
stranger wearing little more than rags.”
“They should run,” I whispered, hands cupped around my mouth.
“They were fearless, remember! Dangerous though it was. So, their
first reaction wasn’t fear but curiosity.”
“Curious like a Fireblood!”
She put her finger to her lips, glancing at my mother to make sure she
was still asleep. But her golden eyes beamed approval. “Yes, and you
should always be proud of your curious nature.”
I tucked my hands under my chin as gentle warmth filled my chest.
“Then Sud, the goddess of the south wind, stepped forward and asked
his name, as bold as you please. But Eurus merely shook his head, having
forgotten the way his tongue and throat could work together to form words.
He merely pointed to the east and picked up the one thing he’d been able to
hold on to when he was banished.”
“His palm frond that made wind!” I said.
“That’s right. And Fors asked, ‘What is that?’ So Eurus waved it in the
air, producing a rush of wind that bent the treetops and changed the
direction of the waves. Sud, ever clever, declared, ‘You are Eurus, our
brother!’ She recognized the wind-maker for what it was. ‘We have heard
of you,’ she said. ‘But you are dangerous.’”
“I wish I had a wind-maker,” I whispered conspiratorially.
“I know,” Grandmother whispered back. “But I wonder what kind of
mischief you’d get into if you had that much power.”
I giggled. My head had begun to feel heavy, so I rested it on my pillow,
breathing Grandmother’s scent, something flowery and pleasant.
 “Eurus shook his head,” she continued. “He didn’t want his siblings to
think him dangerous. He wanted to give them something to make them like
him. So he rushed to a tree and climbed it, returning with two pieces of fruit
as an offering of friendship.”
“They shouldn’t take it,” I said, then pondered whether it would have
been rude to refuse. “Maybe they should sniff it first.”
Grandmother laughed. “I’m not sure that would have helped. In any
case, he was their brother. They trusted him. Or maybe they just felt he
deserved a second chance. Either way, the fruit tasted sweet and good. The
twins gobbled it up in two bites. But, alas, the seeds were poisonous, and
the twins fell down, insensible. Eurus, panicking at his terrible mistake,
reached into their mouths and removed the seeds. Then he carried the
children, one in each arm, to the edge of the beach and splashed their faces
with water until they woke.”
My eyelids kept sliding closed, but I struggled valiantly. “So he
poisoned them by mistake?” I asked.
“It would seem so. Lucky for him, the twins recovered quickly, and
they were very forgiving. They knew he’d saved them. ‘We must bring him
with us,’ they decided. But how could they get home? They were too weak
to fly back to the realm of the gods. There was only one way.”
Grandmother made a motion as if she held a fan. “Sud grabbed Eurus’s
palm frond and created a great wind that blew the black clouds away to
reveal their sister Sun. They called to her—‘Sun!’—and begged for her
help. Eurus squinted up at the blue sky, cringing away from Sun’s light and
heat. But she saw there was a tiny speck of light still in his heart. If her
siblings were willing to give him another chance, she would, too. She sent
out a golden beam as a bridge, and the twins each took one of Eurus’s hands
and led him back into the realm of the gods.”
“Sun was very nice to do that,” I said.
“Yes,” she agreed. “Now, when they arrived, Tempus and Neb were
frantic with worry. They’d searched everywhere for the twins—except on
the Isle of Night, the only place they never thought to look, for it was
shrouded in shadows and no one ever dared pass that way. Neb cried as she
embraced the twins, and then Tempus kissed their foreheads and looked up
to see who had rescued them. At first, he didn’t recognize his eldest son, but
when he did, his face twisted in anger. He opened his mouth to banish him
again, but Neb put a hand out to stop him. She saw the regret in her son’s
eyes.
“‘He saved my babies when he could have let them die,’ Neb said. ‘We
will give him another chance.’”
I could no longer keep my eyes open, so I let her words flow over me
like a warm breeze.
“But Neb warned Eurus, ‘If you ever defy me again, even once, your
banishment will be permanent, and your gift taken from you. Then you will
know the pain of living without that which has become essential to you.’”
Images of the gods crowded into my mind. Neb and Tempus sat on
alabaster thrones. The twins were dark-haired children. Sud had flames in
her eyes, and Fors had hands coated with ice. Cirrus was older, tall and
lovely, with dark skin and golden eyes. She stood watching while Eurus
swore obedience, his leaf-green eyes glittering.
I suddenly realized I could no longer smell Grandmother or feel the
warmth of the fire.
Eurus turned and looked directly at me. “My Nightblood daughter.
What foolish things occupy your mortal mind. Better to dream of the dark
throne I made for you.”
He waved a hand and the scene changed. The alabaster thrones were
replaced by an onyx throne, its polished surface reflecting the dance of
torchlight. Desperate whispers rose from somewhere out of sight.
Take your throne. You command. We serve.
I wanted to run but couldn’t move. Everything was wrong. This was no
longer a memory.
It’s just a dream, I told myself, trying not to panic.
Eurus smiled, showing even white teeth. “I hope you’ve had time to
consider my offer.” He came closer, his hand reaching out to touch my
cheek. I flinched mentally but was unable to move away. “These mortal
bodies are so frail.” His fingertip touched the spot near my ear where the
Minax had left a heart-shaped black spot. “See how it marked you? You
belong to the Minax now. This is proof.”
Get away from me! I screamed in my mind. Every particle of my
consciousness ignited, desperate to fight or escape.
A cold, deadly fury darkened his eyes, but then his lips curved up.
“Solstice nears. I hope you enjoy my gifts. A Minax for every mortal.” His
teeth flashed in a predatory grin, and he leaned close, his breath smelling of
soil and plants and blood. “Together, we could create a dynasty. A world
ruled by Nightbloods, with no more wars between Frostbloods and
Firebloods.”
Because everyone possessed would obey you! I wanted to scream. With
no wills of their own! My throat seized as I tried to speak.
“Still no?” He laughed, whipping the wind into a frenzy. “Don’t hurt
yourself, Ruby.” He straightened, smirking at my helplessness. “I’m not
even here. As it turns out, I don’t need you after all.”
He turned away. Despair sank razor-sharp teeth into my chest. I
couldn’t stop him, couldn’t fight him.
“I will give you one last chance when we meet again,” he said over his
shoulder as he disappeared into darkness. “For sentimental reasons. You are
my creation, after all.”
 TEN

ARCUS ARRIVED THE NEXT MORNING.

I woke with a headache, exhausted, knowing I’d dreamed but unable to
recall the details. Brother Gamut brought two bowls of porridge and enough
tea for both of us to help with the pain. As we ate and sipped, he filled me
in on the latest news of the fever sweeping through the abbey. One of the
sisters was very ill and wasn’t expected to survive the day.
When he left to check on his patients, I packed my small washtub full
of clean snow, heated it into bathwater, and used a bar of soap to lather off
two days’ worth of sweat. My clothes needed a good scrubbing, too, so I
dressed in a brown robe belonging to one of the monks.
I was on my way to the kitchen to raid the larder when a rider
approached. A rush of joyous anticipation surged as I recognized Arcus’s
tall, broad form riding a glossy chestnut stallion. His cloak with the hood
covering his face looked so much like what he used to wear at the abbey
that a dozen memories cropped up, from my first sword lesson when he’d
backed me into a pond, to the first time I’d run my fingers over his cold
lips, wondering what they’d feel like on mine.
Sometimes nostalgia was a gut-wrenching thing, other times sweet. At
that moment, the memories were more sweet than bitter. Feeling
lighthearted for the first time in a long while, I was seized by an impulse to
perform a bit of mischief. With my hood pulled up, he wouldn’t know who
I was. How would he react if a random monk suddenly grabbed him and
kissed him square on his beautiful, unsuspecting lips?
Filled with anticipation, I hid my face and waited near the stable, my
hands tucked in my sleeves.
The chestnut stallion thundered up. Arcus dismounted before the horse
had completely stopped, his dark blue cloak swirling.
“Tend my horse, please, brother,” he said, breathing hard. “Or sister?”
He stopped and peered at me. I felt his scrutiny. He knew all the monks and
must wonder who I was. I cursed inwardly that my fun might be over so
soon.
“Where is Brother Thistle?” he asked, his voice hard. I bent my head
down to hide a smile. He still hadn’t figured out who I was.
I shook my head, turning to take his horse’s reins. Maybe he would
think I was a novice, a particularly shy one. He paused, then turned and
strode toward the abbey, his boots crunching over the snow.
Just then, four monks exited the abbey carrying the edges of a blanket
with a figure stretched out and covered in a white shroud. Their voices
carried in the cold, clear air.
“She was so young,” said Sister Arbella, a middle-aged monk with a
wide smile lacking several teeth. Her usual gap-toothed grin was nowhere
in evidence as she carried one corner of the blanket.
“And the illness took her so quickly,” agreed Brother Clarence, a
heavyset, serious monk who often helped in the kitchen. “Brother Thistle is
devastated. The loss is great to all of us, but he was especially fond of her.”
Up until then, their heads had been bowed, but at that point Brother
Clarence looked up and noticed the tall, silent figure watching their
progress.
“Young Arcus… Oh! I meant Your Majesty, forgive me.” He became
flustered. “Please excuse us. As you can see, we have a sad task to carry—”
“Stop,” Arcus interrupted, his voice thick.
The procession halted, and he stood there, staring down at the small,
covered body.
I suddenly remembered how attached Arcus was to all the monks. My
enthusiasm for that little act of mischief soured. How could I have forgotten
the fever sweeping through the abbey? According to Brother Gamut, Sister
Cordelia hadn’t been expected to last the day. It must be her corpse being
carried outside to a shallow temporary grave, with a proper burial to take
place in the spring when the ground thawed.
As these thoughts flashed through my mind, a terrible possibility
occurred to me.
What if Arcus had received the message about my fever but Kai hadn’t
crossed paths with him? The message had said I was gravely ill. He might
think—
 I dropped the reins, lifted the hem of my robe, and broke into a run.
Arcus’s hand trembled as he reached toward the cloth.
“Your Majesty, you could catch the fever!” Sister Arbella warned him
in a shrill voice. “Even Frostbloods are susceptible. You must not!”
“I will see her,” he insisted, sounding both determined and frightened.
“Arcus, don’t!” I cried out, my heart pounding hard with regret at the
way my silly joke had gone awry.
At the sound of my voice, he swung around. Every scrap of color had
left his face. My hood came off as I ran, and his knees buckled.
He caught himself and straightened, his eyes widening.
I stopped a few feet away, panting. “I’m here! I’m fine! I only meant to
play a trick on you.”
“A… trick?” he whispered. He was silent for several heartbeats. Then
his face twisted.
“Surprise?” I forced a wobbly smile.
With no more warning than a puff of frigid air against my forehead, he
clamped his hand over my upper arm and frog-marched me toward the
abbey. As I felt his anger rise, mine rose to meet it.
I whacked at his hand until he loosened his hold, but the menacing
glint in his eyes told me he was ready to tear someone’s head off.
“If you’re going to yell,” I said, jerking my chin toward the
guesthouses, “at least do it in private.” The monks didn’t need to hear him
shouting when they were grieving.
Ripping my arm free, I strode off, hearing his angry strides as he
followed. At the correct door, I stopped and turned. He yanked it open and
swept me in, slamming it behind us.
I took a quick breath and attempted to ward off the worst of the
coming storm with an explanation. “This is all just an unfortunate
misunderstanding. I saw you arrive and I thought—oof!”
He crushed me to his chest with such force that air left my lungs in a
rush. He was shaking violently as he pressed himself against me, my back
cushioned by his arms, which rested on the wall.
My guilt increased as he just stood there, holding me, shudders
wracking his body.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” I gasped out.
“Scare me?” His grip tightened. “You nearly killed me!”
 “And you’re… trying to return the favor?” I sucked in air when he let
me go.
He collapsed on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, his head
cradled in his hands. “You will be the death of me!”
“I wasn’t thinking. We never have the opportunity to have, well, fun
together.…” I trailed off as he lifted his head and impaled me with an icy-
blue stare.
“That was your idea of fun?” His jaw tightened. “Did you send me the
message as part of your trick?”
“No! No, of course not. Brother Thistle sent the message. When I saw
you arrive, I assumed Kai had caught up to you to say I had recovered. It
was just an impulse to, I don’t know…”
“Test the strength of my heart?”
“I thought I might… pretend to be a novice and then… kiss you?” I
cleared my throat. “I didn’t plan it too thoroughly.”
He regarded me with horrified fascination. “Do you ever plan
anything, thoroughly or otherwise?”
His head returned to his hands. It didn’t seem as if he wanted an
answer to his question. The frost he’d put on the wall melted with the heat
of my back as I leaned against it, wondering what to say or do. At least his
breathing was quieting, his hands steadier.
I pushed away from the wall, moving closer with slow steps. “Are you
extremely furious or just angry?”
“Both.”
Another step closer. “I hope you don’t blame anyone else. Brother
Thistle didn’t know about my little game.”
“Oh, I know! He would never do anything so idiotic. Pretending to be
a monk so you can surprise me with a kiss!” He raised his head and glared.
“When I’ve ridden here half-mad with worry, all the while wondering
whether I’d make it in time.”
“Kai was supposed to meet you on the road and tell you I was fine.
You didn’t see him?”
He shook his head, steely eyed. “No.”
“Oh. That’s… bad.”
“Yes. It is. If anyone else had scared me like that, I’d crack their
skull.”
 “You rarely crack skulls. So messy.”
“Come here.” Something settled in his frozen gaze. There was heavy
intent in those eyes.
“I’m quite comfortable here.” I inched away.
His long arms reached out and snagged my waist. Though his
expression was stony, his hands were gentle. He pulled me close until I
stood between his knees.
“Show me the rest of your trick.”
“The rest?”
“The part where you surprise me. Finish what you started.” He
gathered me closer, waiting, lifting his brows in challenge. “Get on with it.
Shock me, little novice.”
My lips tucked up on one side. This was a penance I would willingly
pay.
I very slowly tilted my head, taking my time to fit my mouth snugly
against his. He inhaled at the contact. Heat surged through me. Then one of
his hands came to cradle my head, the other sliding to my back as he pulled
me off balance and twisted. I landed on the bed with a muffled thump,
protected by his arms. He braced his weight on his elbows and moved over
me, our lips still fused. His tongue came out to touch my lips until they
opened. The kiss turned hard, almost bruising. Heat soared through my
veins.
“This was supposed to be… my trick, not yours,” I muttered between
kisses.
He smiled against my lips.
We explored each other’s mouths until it felt like my fever had
returned. My hands found their way under his tunic and creeped up his
chest. He growled and pulled away.
“This was supposed to be your punishment,” he said in a gravelly
voice that made me shiver. “Not a reward.”
“Oh, I feel punished,” I assured him. “This is awful. Please stop.”
I cupped his face and guided him back down. His hands smoothed over
my cheeks, my hair, my shoulders and arms. I smoothed my palms up his
neck to cup his jaw.
He quieted the kiss with teasing slides and nips, and finally drew back,
feathering his knuckles down my neck, sliding his thumb against the pulse
in the hollow of my throat. “The message said you were gravely ill.”
I could barely hear him. My heart still drummed frantically in my ears.
“I passed out during a vision and I didn’t wake up for a while.”
“How long?”
I twitched a shoulder. “A couple of days.”
“Days?”
“Brother Thistle said it was a powerful vision. But I’m fine now.
Truly.”
His hands dug into my hair, his fingertips pressing against my skull,
holding me immobile as he pierced me with his stare. “Do you know how it
felt to see that small figure, unmoving, and to think it was you?” His lids
slammed shut. “I’ll be seeing that image in my nightmares for the rest of
my life.”
“I really am sorry.”
He opened his eyes, the blue more intense than ever. “Is there some
part of you that enjoys tormenting me?”
I toyed with the silver clasp of his cloak to avoid that penetrating stare.
“Mostly I just wasn’t thinking.” I flicked my eyes up. “But maybe there is a
part of me that enjoys seeing evidence of how you feel about me.”
“Was it… was it your own impulse?” When I looked at him curiously,
he swallowed. “I mean, do you think it was you who decided to do that or
was it…?”
Understanding dawned. He meant the Minax. My mood darkened.
“No, I don’t think it had anything to do with it. It was just me, being
playful.” I exhaled. “I guess you haven’t seen that side of me often enough
to recognize it.”
“Hmm.” He brushed his lips over my cheek, his fingers dragging
through my hair, spreading it out on the quilt. He took his time smoothing
each strand, completely focused on the task. The tension that had gripped
him before was gone, and I was glad.
I examined his face, purely to make sure he was all right, I told myself,
not because I felt a visceral pleasure from looking at him. I traced my
fingers from his forehead down his nobly carved nose, over the scar that
dented his top lip, and then along the thicker bottom lip, so enticingly
shaped that I felt my stomach tighten. Surely that mouth was created to
tempt practical-minded young women into foolishness.
 “How many girls have you kissed?” I asked idly.
“Well, if that isn’t a change of subject, I don’t know what is.” His lips
curved, making them more wickedly attractive. “Are you sure you want to
know?”
“No. It will no doubt irritate me.”
He laughed. “Not that many.” I gave him a doubtful look, making his
grin widen. “It was a long time ago.”
My eyes flicked up to meet his. “And you were promised to Marella
the whole time, weren’t you? For shame.”
He lifted a brow. “Are we listing indiscretions? I could share my
feelings about a certain prince whose teeth I’d like to knock out.”
“On second thought, maybe we should change the subject.”
He grinned, then as quickly as a cloud covering the sun, his face grew
somber and he pulled me close, crushing me against him. “I truly thought
you might be dead. Do you have any idea how that felt?”
“Don’t want to think about it. You are never allowed to be anything
but healthy.”
He sat up, pulling me next to him, one arm wrapped around my waist.
“Tell me about this vision that made you sleep for two days.”
“Oh. Well, Brother Thistle and I had this idea of how I might contact
Sage.”
I explained about the relic and related the details of the vision, then
added my recent dream about the gods and Eurus. When I told him about
the rift in the Gate, his arm tightened around me, but he didn’t speak until I
was finished.
“We’ll sail for the pirate island as soon as we can,” he said finally, “but
you do know I need to go to the capital first?”
“Of course. Frostbloods and Firebloods have to work together on this.
If frostfire is the only weapon we have against the Minax, we need to use
it.”
“First, we need to find out if anyone other than royalty can create it.”
“Kai and Brother Thistle are going to test it. They probably would
have this morning if Kai hadn’t gone to find you.” I gasped. “You said you
didn’t see him. What if he went off to search for you and something
happened to him?”
 “He’s fine. I saw him leaving the other guesthouse when I dragged you
in here. He probably overslept and slunk away to hide until you calmed
down.”
“It wasn’t me who needed to calm down! He saw us and he didn’t
come to rescue me from your wrath? That traitor!”
“As if you’d ever need rescuing from me.”
“You nearly bruised my ribs!”
“I’m sorry my extreme relief that you were alive caused you
discomfort.”
“You’re not sorry, you brute. See how you like it.” I wrapped my arms
around him, tightening them as much as I could.
His laugh shook me. “You’re stronger than you look, my little bundle
of firewood.”
I grinned up at him, letting go. “You haven’t called me that for a long
time. Not since we lived here in the abbey.”
“Is that right, Lady Firebrand?” He stole a quick kiss. “I’m glad you
remember. I will never forget any of the things we said to each other here.
Even the names you called me.”
“Icy Tyrant?”
“And Miserable Blockhead.”
“I have a way with nicknames.”
He dropped his head to my shoulder and nuzzled my neck. “You have
a way of tying me in knots. Making me feel more alive than I ever did
before.”
I put my palms to his cheeks and smiled. “You have that same gift.”
 ELEVEN

WE LEFT THE ABBEY SHORTLY AFTER dawn, stopping at the nearby

garrison to pick up more guards to add to the handful who had accompanied
Arcus from Tevros. A dozen soldiers served as our escort in case we ran
into any trouble from the Blue Legion.
I rode a chestnut mare, but only because my first choice of mount had
been more than skittish around me. When I’d tried to coax Butter—the
yellow mare I used to ride at the abbey—from her stall, she’d spooked and
reared, her screeches of fear sending the other horses into a frenzy. I’d
given her time to calm, then tried to approach her again, but she had
behaved the same, her violent reaction forcing me to choose a different
horse. Even though I understood it was the Minax, and not me, that she
objected to, her rejection stung. My old friend was a friend no longer. At
least the chestnut mare tolerated me, so she would have to do.
As our group passed through villages, people stopped what they were
doing and stared. We must have made a pretty procession, our glossy horses
high-stepping through drifts in the gently falling snow. The soldiers wore
blue tunics with the white-arrow symbol of the Frost King over fur-lined
coats or vests. Arcus had donned his fine indigo cloak with the silver clasp
over dark trousers and worn but well-oiled leather boots.
Brother Thistle wore the brown robes of Forwind Abbey, and I wore
my old red tunic and black leggings, which had stayed at the abbey in my
absence. Kai thought I should make more effort to dress the part of a
princess, but I reminded him I only put on the royal airs when necessary. I
promised to look the part when we arrived in Forsia.
Kai was traveling in style in a white doublet—to blend with a
Tempesian winter, so he said—which contrasted nicely with his black
breeches and shining black boots.
If pedigree were judged by the polish of one’s boots, Kai would
outrank us all.
 Despite bitter winds and drifting snow, we reached the city of Forsia in
a lean six days. Wherever the road was impassible, Kai and I, along with
the masters, had melted the snow. It was tiring work, but satisfying—like
clearing cobwebs from a neglected room. I only wished that the Blue
Legion could be swept aside as easily.
We picked up fifty warriors from the estate of Lord Pell—along with
the lord himself, a loyal friend who had supported Arcus when he retook
the throne from his brother. His forces were extra protection in case we
encountered trouble in the capital. I worried aloud that even with the
Fireblood masters, our numbers wouldn’t be enough to take the castle by
force if the Blue Legion held power.
“We won’t need to,” Arcus assured me as he rode beside me on a bay
stallion he’d picked up at an inn. We’d changed horses often to make good
time, which meant I was saddlesore, aching, and weary. “But if I’m wrong
and we’re attacked, these troops will hold off the castle forces until we can
escape.”
As it turned out, we encountered no resistance when we reached the
city. The garrison guards at the foot of Mount Fors recognized Arcus
immediately and showed him through the gate with deference, which meant
the Blue Legion hadn’t yet poisoned the capital’s soldiers against their king.
However, their respect didn’t extend to the rest of us. The Frostbloods’
eyes clung to the Fireblood masters with suspicion. Kai grinned and winked
at one of the guards, who blushed blue, blinked twice, then looked away.
She kept stealing looks at him from the corner of her eye, which brought a
slight, satisfied smile to Kai’s lips.
I leaned toward Kai and said, “A few months ago, these soldiers would
have sat in the king’s arena cheering as you died.”
His eyes gleamed. “A few months ago, I would have made a game of
lighting these fools up like torches.”
We shared a smile.
As we passed the massive ice statues lining the winding road, their
thick shadows swallowed us up and spit us out onto patches of crystal
sunlight. I shivered with cold and a touch of nerves as I remembered my
first trip up the mountain. The circumstances were quite different from
when I came here as a captive, but we weren’t out of danger. The Frost
Court could turn on us in a blink.
 Finally, we reached the upland where the castle and courtyard were
nestled. Spiky turrets shimmered with a cold blue light. Bands of sunshine
bounced off facets of ice, fracturing into points that danced over the
alabaster ground like handfuls of gems. The first time I’d seen the castle, its
luminescent blue-white bulk had seemed menacing, and now was no
different. I still felt oppressed by the sheer volume of ice.
We rode through the stone gates past guards and archers, who stood at
attention as their king passed. A half dozen guards held white frost wolves
on leather leashes, the animals growling low in their throats, their eerie blue
stares fixed on Kai, me, and the masters. They’d been trained to hunt
Firebloods, and they smelled our warm blood. As Kai’s horse brought him
near, one wolf snapped at the air with its spit-shiny teeth. Kai didn’t even
blink. He merely controlled his horse’s nervous reaction with negligent
ease.
Attentive grooms rushed forward to tend to the horses as we
dismounted. Arcus wasted no time. He barked instructions at the soldiers to
protect the rest of us, then his cloak billowed out as he swept through the
castle doors, leaving a trail of deferentially bowing guards in his wake.
I followed at a more sedate pace, pausing with Kai as he stopped
inside the enormous entryway, his eyes following carved ice pillars to the
uneven waviness of the high ice ceiling. Cold permeated everything.
Kai’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “This room is exceedingly
disagreeable.”
When I glanced at him, I was struck by how out of place he looked.
His hair was as bright as a bonfire in the monochrome room. “You talk as if
this is your first glimpse of the castle. You’ve been here before.”
His lip curled as he stared at the blue-and-white tiled floor. “I didn’t
like it any better the first time.”
“I didn’t much like it, either.” I’d been hauled through by soldiers as a
prisoner of King Rasmus.
As the Fireblood masters, ignoring all the stoically silent Frostblood
guards, joined us in the foyer, a muted roar of a large, excited crowd
trembled through the open doorway.
My gut twisted with memory. I knew those sounds too well.
Something was happening in the arena, and I doubted it was anything good.
“Follow me. Hurry!”
 Taking the quickest route, I led the way through the familiar corridors,
down a set of stairs to the castle’s lower level, through an arched stone exit,
and to the footpath that led to a back entrance to the arena.
Waving the masters to wait, Kai and I entered the shadowy space once
occupied by champions and their opponents before matches. While he
turned in a slow circle, his face solemn—perhaps thinking of all the
Firebloods who had died there—I moved to the wide opening leading into
the arena proper.
A gallows had been erected at the far end, under the king’s empty
balcony. Adjacent balconies were filled with colorfully dressed nobles. On
the raised platform, two prisoners stood with their hands behind their backs.
Next to them, a masked executioner dressed in black stood with arms
folded. From somewhere out of sight, a list of crimes was recited in
stentorian tones.
My blood heated with shock and fear. The crowd had come to witness
an execution—and I recognized the bound prisoners. Lord and Lady Manus
had served as Arcus’s staunch allies during the rebellion.
My thick cloak and the cumbersome skirts of my woolen gown slowed
my progress as I pushed my way into the crowd. Before I reached the front,
Arcus leaped onto the platform, cloak swirling like indigo smoke.
“What is the meaning of this?” he roared, turning to the assembly.
Knees bent and heads bowed in a wave from front to back. Kai caught
up to me in the crowd, and we wove through the stunned spectators, now
silent but for plaintive children who tugged on their parents’ sleeves to ask
what happened, why everyone had gone so still.
A tall, thin, white-haired figure straightened and moved forward,
halting a few feet from the platform. I recognized him as Lord Ustathius,
the advisor Arcus had put in charge when he’d come to Sudesia. He was
also Marella’s father.
“Lord Ustathius,” Arcus said in seething tones. “Explain.”
“Your Majesty,” the lord replied with another bow, speaking loudly
enough for all to hear. “On your orders, we continued to investigate the
attack that nearly took your life and the lives of visiting dignitaries on the
night of the ball. I fear the results have yielded bitter fruit. Your own friends
Lord and Lady Manus were the instigators of this heinous plot.”
“What led you to believe this?” Arcus glared down at him.
 Kai and I reached the front of the assembled mass, jostling our way to
the empty semicircle occupied by Lord Ustathius. Aside from a flurry of
whispers, the crowd remained quiet.
Lord Ustathius spoke with his usual pompous air. “You are aware,
Your Majesty, that Lord Regier was unmasked after his death, along with
his wife. Lady Regier survived, but as it turns out, she was innocent. She
had infiltrated the plot—the conspiracy to murder you and the other
dignitaries—and was on the point of sabotaging it from within.”
“Nonsense! You can’t possibly be so foolish as to swallow her lies.”
Lord Ustathius drew himself up. “Actually, I do believe her, Your
Majesty. Her story was corroborated by Lord and Lady Blanding.”
Arcus scoffed.
The advisor turned to the balconies filled with nobles. I couldn’t help
but think he was speaking to them as much as Arcus. “And furthermore, we
interviewed three score witnesses and they all agreed that the conspiracy
was led by Lord and Lady Manus. A few of them also named Lord Pell as
one of their accomplices, but we were unable to question him, as he went
with you on your journey.”
“How convenient that I was named as well,” came the mocking tones
of Lord Pell, who had accompanied our party over the last two days of the
journey to Forsia after visiting his estate. He made his way through the
crowd and stood at the edge of the steps. “Do you plan to execute me, too?”
Lord Ustathius’s cheeks flushed with a blue tint. “We will question you
soon, I assure you.”
“I will decide what steps you take,” Arcus said. “Untie Lord and Lady
Manus and end this wretched spectacle.”
Lord Ustathius hesitated. “Of course I shall obey your every order,
Your Majesty. However, it is my place to warn you of the consequences of
your actions. Justice must be served. To shirk that duty is to show
weakness.”
Arcus prowled to the edge of the platform, his broad shoulders casting
a menacing shadow over his advisor. “Then I shall demonstrate my strength
by serving as both king and executioner this day. And the first to fall will be
anyone who seems reluctant to follow my orders.”
Lord Ustathius’s eyes widened before he muttered a command for the
executioner to untie the two prisoners. Before the executioner could
comply, Lord Pell drew a knife and sawed at the bonds of Lady Manus and
Lord Manus in turn.
“Return to your rooms,” Arcus instructed the two prisoners and Lord
Pell, “and take several guards with you.” Lord and Lady Manus halted near
Arcus to murmur a few words of gratitude. He nodded in reply, and the trio
made their way quietly through the crowd, a half dozen of Lord Pell’s
soldiers surrounding them.
“Lord Ustathius, I will meet you in the throne room,” Arcus said.
“Immediately.”
He leaped from the platform with ease, his long strides eating up the
distance between us. When he reached me, he snatched my hand and pulled
me along with him, leaving Kai to trail behind. The masters were hovering
at the edge of the crowd, presumably at Kai’s instruction. Lord Ustathius
disappeared into the crowd, heading toward the exit.
Arcus’s fury came off him in frigid waves, numbing my hand as he
clutched it. It was like being swept away by a north wind.
As we passed through the crowd in a blur, I heard snatches of
disgruntled complaints and resentful mutterings as the spectators readied to
depart. My lip curled at their obvious disappointment, even while the Minax
soaked up the threads of their simmering frustration with glee. They’d
expected to enjoy the gasping, struggling final throes of a man and woman
hanged, but instead were forced to leave without anything more exciting
than a glimpse of their angry king. Not exactly the gory spectacle they were
used to, as I well knew. How tragic.
An idea dropped shining and bright into my mind.
A filled arena. An empty platform.
I could give them a different kind of show. In fact, this was the perfect
opportunity for a performance.
 TWELVE

I DARTED A GLANCE AT KAI. HE met my eyes and nodded his

understanding. Apparently he’d come to the same conclusion I had.
We’d planned to put on our show during an assembly of the court,
maybe a council meeting or court dinner—though we hadn’t figured out
how to contend with Arcus’s reaction to either of those options. But here
was a crowd filled with Frostbloods, including some of the most influential
courtiers with perfect views from their balconies.
There was no better time to demonstrate the threat of the Minax.
I just needed to talk an overprotective king into leaving me behind for
a few minutes. Though I hated to lie to him, I had no choice.
“Arcus, stop.” When he didn’t listen, I planted my feet and yanked
backward. “Wait! I’m not going with you.”
He rounded on me, taking my shoulders as he said in a low, urgent
voice, “I’m not leaving you alone for a second. I’m afraid if I turn my back,
you’ll get a knife in yours. Stay with me. I mean it, Ruby!”
“Would you please listen? Look, the Fireblood masters are right over
there.” Kai was already assembling them, as we’d planned. “They’ll protect
me with their lives. I’m their princess, remember? Let me deal with
dispersing the crowd.”
His brow furrowed in confusion. “The guards will take care of that.”
“I know, but I want to do this. I need to show your court and this
crowd that I’m not at their mercy anymore.”
That part was true. I would relish turning the tables. The arena
spectators would be at my mercy, at least for a few minutes.
“Why now?” he asked, his voice rough with frustration. “You’ve faced
them before in other ways.”
“Not here. This is the first time I’ve been back since that day.”
He had to know what I meant. It was burned into both our memories.
The day I’d last fought as Rasmus’s champion, the day we’d destroyed the
throne, the day the merciless and twisted king—Arcus’s brother—had died.
 I took his hands from my shoulders, keeping a tight grip on them to
show him how strongly I meant this. “I want to stand in the arena on my
own terms, not sick and disgusted after being forced to kill, not being
protected or saved or pulled along in your wake. I need to face this. Face
them.”
After a pause, his eyes filled with understanding. “Very well. I’ll wait
for you.”
“No. It won’t mean anything with you glowering threats of death and
dismemberment at them if they’re not nice to me. I need to do this without
you.”
He squeezed my hands, scanning the crowd, then nodded. “Very well.
Do what you need to do. Don’t be long, though. Please.”
He bent and kissed my forehead, a sign of approval and affection for
everyone to see, which made me smile at his back as he strode off. His
personal guard surrounded him, sweeping out through the main doors.
With a fortifying breath, I turned and motioned to Kai. The Fireblood
masters had already fanned out around the perimeter. They would stop
anyone from leaving and keep an eye out in case anyone tried to harm me
or if things got out of hand.
It was important that no one come to any real harm. This was to be a
warning, not a bloodbath.
The spectators on the arena floor were gathering their belongings,
preparing to leave. Many had already left. To my relief, it looked as if no
children remained. But the nobles in the balconies had stayed, confirming
my belief that they had recognized me. They must be curious what the
former Fireblood champion was up to, if for no other reason than to gossip
about it later.
Good. They were the ones I needed to convince. I only wished I didn’t
have to do so by unleashing the Minax on the commoners closest to me. But
the members of the court were too far away to be sure I could remain in
control.
By the time I climbed the steps to the platform, I was sure Arcus
would be safely in the castle out of earshot.
“Good people of Forsia!” I bowed in an ironic imitation of the arena
announcer who had once stood near this very spot. “You came to see an
execution, but there will be none today.”
 The spectators on the ground level muttered and shook their heads.
They picked up satchels and baskets. Some were filled with rotten
vegetables they’d brought to pelt at the condemned. For a second, I was
thrown back into the past, when those projectiles were aimed at me. It
helped firm my resolve for what I was about to do.
Before I could shake off the memories, Kai mounted the steps. He
wore red, the color of our blood. The combination of scarlet with his
golden-red hair stood out starkly against the backdrop of ice.
“Wait!” He held up a hand, drawing their attention. “Another spectacle
awaits you!” His smooth voice and engaging grin mesmerized the crowd.
“We have brought you a phenomenon so rare and elusive that most people
refuse to even consider the possibility of its existence. My companion,
Princess Ruby—”
He motioned to me, then broke off as gasps and chatter followed the
revelation of my title.
He stared pointedly up at the balconies, speaking clear and loud. “Yes,
your former champion is the Sudesian princess, niece of Queen Nalani, heir
to the Fireblood throne, and a master of the art of flame. And now she will
demonstrate a power so astonishing that you will recall this experience for
the rest of your lives. It is neither fire nor frost, but a gift that is wholly
unique and incredible. But first, we need a volunteer.”
We waited. The chatter died. Feet shuffled. No one stepped forward.
With a start, I noticed my old nemesis, Lady Blanding, dressed in a
plum velvet gown with gold lace and a monstrous matching hat. She lifted
her chin and stared down at me with her watery blue eyes. Her jowly
husband sat next to her, wearing a bored expression.
“Your kind isn’t welcome here!” someone in the crowd on the arena
floor piped up—a belligerent-looking man with a thick mustache and beard,
his arms crossed over his wide chest.
Kai wagged a finger at him. “Now, now, I happen to know that many a
Fireblood has been ‘welcome’ in this arena in the recent past. Surely if we
afforded you some enjoyment with our deaths, we can entertain you in other
ways. You are skeptical, sir. Why not volunteer so we may proceed?
Perhaps you Frostbloods are not as confident in your gifts as you would
have us believe.”
 With his courage in question, the man had little choice. He stomped up
on stage, shooting us sharp looks of distrust.
“All you need to do is relax,” Kai assured him. “Princess Ruby?”
I stepped closer to the reluctant volunteer. He tensed, despite the fact
that he outweighed me by several stone and towered over me by at least a
foot. If this man lost control while under Minax possession, he could do
serious damage.
My heart slammed my ribs as I lifted my hand. I knew I could control
the Minax once it was outside of my skin. I had done it before. But actually
going through with this was a different matter.
“Ready?” Kai asked, watching me carefully. I met his eyes and
nodded, then touched the man’s cold, bare wrist with my fingertips.
Leave me, I commanded the Minax. Without hesitation, it flowed out
of my hand and into his. A shadow darted through the air and was gone.
I took a shaky breath, feeling lighter but slightly empty.
The Minax could feel the man’s nervousness, his worry that he would
do something to embarrass himself with all eyes on him, his hatred and
distrust. And as the Minax felt these things, I felt them, too.
I experienced the man’s emotions as if they were my own.
When I looked at Kai, fear and loathing stirred inside me. I saw a
shiftless, untrustworthy Fireblood. The sensation was so strange, I shook
my head to clear it. With a few deep breaths, I was able to separate my own
feelings from the man’s.
Take away his fear, I told the Minax.
Instantly, the man’s nervousness and worry were replaced by serene
confidence. His shoulders relaxed.
Remove his hatred, I ordered.
The Minax siphoned it away. The man blinked at Kai, then at me. He
exhibited a strange mixture of confusion and clarity.
Part of me wanted to stop now. For once, something good had come
from the Minax. I’d been able to lift the man’s hatred from him.
But we were here for another purpose entirely, and that was to show
them all what the Minax could do. We needed them to be shocked and
fearful.
Make him attack that Frostblood. I focused on one of the guards,
someone large enough that they were equally matched.
 The possessed man roared and bounded from the platform, his hands
jerking out to wrap around the guard’s throat. After a stunned moment, the
guard reacted, striking back. They tumbled to the ground in a flurry of
limbs. The other guards rushed forward to subdue the attacker.
I willed the Minax to leave the first man and forced it to possess a
guard.
Attack the other soldiers! I commanded.
The possessed guard sent bolts of ice at the others. I quickly made the
Minax leap into the next person and turn on someone else.
The crowd, already nervous, started showing signs of impending
panic. They began moving in a haphazard fashion away from the platform,
toward the doors. In seconds, Fireblood masters created a ring of flame that
blocked the exits, cutting off any chance of escape.
I focused on the Minax, weaving it from person to person like threads
in a dark tapestry. Guards drew their swords but didn’t strike, unable to
recover from their possession, unable to identify the threat.
While they floundered, I gave the other spectators a taste.
The Minax flew madly from one person to another. With a thrill of
amazement, I saw that I could keep part of its consciousness in one host
while the rest was in another. I experimented further, spreading the miasma
of shadow over the entire crowd, filling them with hatred for one another,
then removing their hatred and fear to leave joy to surface, then winding my
dark thoughts into a spiral of darkness and plunging them back into despair.
People moaned and fell to their knees and covered their heads.
A wild laugh burst from my throat.
Eurus’s laughter followed. Or was it in my mind?
“Ruby,” Kai shouted, his voice distant as he reached out to grab my
arm. “Enough!”
I shoved him away and looked up at the balconies. The nobles were
still there, feeling safe far above the chaos. No longer concerned with
whether I could keep the Minax on a tether, I sent the creature winging up
to the balcony and into Lady Blanding. She screamed, then turned on her
husband, cursing at him as frost erupted from her hands. The other nobles
scrambled out of the way, bumping into one another as they all tried to exit
their boxes at once.
 Lord Blanding, batting at his wife’s ice attack as if he were being
swarmed by bees, jumped back so abruptly that he lost his footing, nearly
tumbling over the side before he grabbed the railing.
“Ruby!” Kai shouted in my ear. He shook my shoulders so hard, my
head wobbled. “Enough! Call it back! Now!”
Our eyes met. His were wide with fear and outrage. Something in me
snapped. My laughter faded as my self-awareness returned. I recalled
suddenly that we’d planned to speak to the crowd after the demonstration,
revealing the existence of the Minax and explaining the threat. There was
no point now. Everything was chaos and no one would listen. I’d let things
go too far.
Return to me, I ordered.
The creature whiplashed from Lady Blanding to me. I doubled over as
it entered my heart with a stabbing jolt. I struggled to fill my lungs with air.
Moaning and sobbing swelled up from the crowd. They looked
terrified, more afraid of me than they’d ever been when all I’d had was my
gift of fire.
It gave me a heady sense of power.
The Fireblood masters dropped their arms, dousing the barrier of fire.
People stumbled toward the doors. One man fell to his knees and cast up the
contents of his stomach.
I turned back toward the balconies to see if the nobles were as
horrified as the crowd below them. Awareness lifted the hair on my neck.
There, in the box where King Rasmus had once gloated over his champions,
stood Arcus with his arms folded over his chest. I expected rage and
betrayal, even hurt. But it was his blank expression that frightened me more
than anything as he turned and left through the arched balcony doorway.
“Come on, Ruby,” Kai said quietly. “Time to face the consequences of
our little performance. Let us hope it was worth it.”
 THIRTEEN

AS KAI AND I EXITED THE ARENA’S main doors, stone-faced guards

bowed on either side.
“Princess Ruby, King Arkanus requests your presence in his council
chambers at your earliest convenience.”
Hmph. My earliest convenience meant “immediately” and we all knew
it.
“And Prince Kai?” I asked.
The guard shook his head. “He is to make himself comfortable in the
sitting room adjacent to the throne room, Your Highness.” He bowed again.
I raised my brows at Kai. “It looks like you’re not invited. I’ll have to
fill you in later.”
“I’m not exactly broken up to miss it,” he said with a heavy-lidded
gaze. “Actually, I can’t imagine anything more guaranteed to cause
boredom.”
“Yes, well. Assuming they don’t execute me. That won’t be boring.”
Kai took my elbow and drew me away from the guards, who stood
waiting respectfully.
“I’ll have to get used to all this deference from guards,” I muttered.
“I’m accustomed to being dragged around and insulted.”
“Ruby,” Kai said, soft but firm, catching me in the pull of his eyes, like
stray sunbeams. His hands came to my shoulders. “I understand why you’re
nervous.”
“I’m not nervous!” I insisted with a glare.
He wrapped his hands around mine, which were balled into fists,
raising them between us as evidence.
“Maybe a tiny bit.”
He kept my hands in his, his voice low and intense. “Listen to me. You
are a princess, the heir to the venerable throne of Sudesia. You are Queen
Nalani’s niece, officially recognized by the Fire Court. There is a kingdom
full of subjects who would lay down their lives for you. One of them stands
before you,” he said gruffly, squeezing my fists lightly.
My throat grew tight, my eyes filling with unwanted moisture. I
blinked rapidly. The last thing I needed was to be leaking tears as I faced
the Frost Court. “I get it, Kai. What’s your point?”
“I know that you came here as a prisoner slated for death. I know that
you were spat upon and reviled and insulted at every turn. I know that if it
were up to the Blue Legion, you would be treated so again.”
I chuckled weakly. “A moment ago, I had the silly notion that your
eyes were like sunshine. How misleading. Your words are full of gloom.”
“Let me finish. I know that’s how things used to be. But you have
power now. You are a princess, with the bearing of a princess—yes! You do
have it, even if you don’t realize it. I noticed it as soon as I first saw you.”
His eyes lit with amusement. “Even with powdered sugar sprinkled all over
your gown.”
My cheeks heated, but I laughed. “You would remind me about that.”
“I want to remind you who you are. Your upbringing may have been
humble, but there is steel in your backbone. Show the Frost Court that you
own your birthright. When you speak to them, you speak on behalf of
Sudesia. You bow to no one.”
I gave his hands a squeeze. When I let go, I stood a little taller than I
had before. “I’ll make you proud.”
“You could do nothing else, Princess.”

As I entered the council chambers, a dozen of the most powerful

members of the Frost Court—some of whom I’d just seen in the arena—
watched with varying degrees of suspicion. Apparently a day of public
execution had warranted their best finery. Brushed velvet, colorful silks,
snowy furs, and icy jewels sparkled around the long wooden table.
Standing at the head of the table, their king blended in perfectly. Arcus
had taken the time to change from his travel clothes into a sapphire doublet
with silver hooks and silver threads that matched the steel band spanning
his brow. Only Brother Thistle, seated at Arcus’s right, broke the pattern of
sartorial opulence by wearing his coarse brown monk’s robes.
Despite the variety in clothing, there was an eerie conformity to their
eye colors—all cool shades, from pale ice to violet.
I squared my shoulders to cover the fact that I felt shabby and unkempt
by comparison. I smelled of horse and travel sweat. My dove-gray cloak
had an obvious tear, and my woolen gown was creased. My braid had
loosened, and though I’d finger-combed my hair as best I could, it hung like
a nebulous cloud of smoke over my shoulders.
But Kai had reminded me there was steel in my backbone, and before
this meeting was over, the whole court would know it.
“Please be seated, Princess Ruby.” Arcus motioned to an empty seat
halfway down the table. His expression gave nothing away. I moved
without comment to the high-backed wooden chair, folding my hands in my
lap.
He took his seat, his smooth silver crown glinting. “I’ve called this
meeting to discuss a matter of the greatest urgency.”
Several people spoke at once.
He held up a silencing hand. “I’m sure you have questions. I will
answer them all.”
Arcus looked at me, and I stared back. I’d never seen his eyes so cold,
not even when he’d first taken me from the prison when he was scared of
my fire. I’d expected him to shout and rail at me at the first opportunity. I
would have preferred that to the barren wasteland of his expression. My
knees shook under the table, my blood seeming to slow in my veins. Had I
done something unforgivable when I’d gone against him? Was this
something we could never come back from?
He broke the stare and glanced around the table again. “But first,
Princess Ruby, niece of Queen Nalani of the Fire Court, has something
important to say.”
I kept staring until he lifted his brows with a waiting air. He wanted me
to speak first? Gratitude fluttered through me, and a rush of relief. This was
the opportunity I needed, and he was giving me a chance to make the most
of it. He wouldn’t do that if I’d completely lost his trust. And there was no
better time to persuade the court of the veracity of the threat of the Minax,
right when the proof was fresh in their minds.
 Confidence restored, I took a breath and prepared to speak.
Before I could get a word out, an older courtier pushed up from her
chair. “Your Majesty,” she said, “surely this is asking too much. First, you
inform us this girl is Sudesian royalty, and now you allow her into the Frost
Court’s private council chambers? That alone…” She shook her head
angrily. “Do you truly expect us to endure her excuses for what we all
witnessed in the arena?”
“I expect you to listen, Lady Gedda,” Arcus said, each word carefully
enunciated in a courteous but commanding voice that made everyone sit up
a little straighter. “Without interruption.”
Silence fell. Lady Gedda sat.
With a nod to Arcus, I took a breath and stood. “You’ve all heard of
Eurus’s curse—the shadow creatures that can seep under your skin, turning
you to violence and murder. I know you’ve been told that legends of the
Minax are merely that—tales to scare children. I’m here to tell you those
stories are true. I showed you proof in the arena. After not only seeing but
feeling the evidence of the Minax’s presence for yourselves, you can no
longer deny the reality. These creatures crave war and bloodshed. They
cause death and destruction. If they possess you, you cannot resist it. You
will do whatever it instructs you to do, even if it tells you to turn on your
own family.” Recalling my nightmare of Anda and Gyda, I swallowed. “It
will force you to kill your loved ones first—even your own children—the
better to bring on grief and despair.” There were shocked inhalations. “And
not only that, it drains your life force as it possesses you. When you die, a
few days or weeks later, it will abandon your corpse and search out its next
host.”
My gaze ranged around the table, meeting every eye in turn. It was
hard to tell whether they believed me, but they were definitely listening.
“We have received word the prison that holds these creatures is under
attack. If they escape, they will devour our minds and discard us, all of us,
until no one is left. I know this is hard to understand and even harder to
believe, which is why I needed to show you. You saw the thing for yourself.
You felt it. That was only a glimpse of what the Minax can do. And there
are thousands of them.”
A few of the courtiers looked furious, but more appeared terrified. I
left them with a final thought.
 “No rivalry with another kingdom can possibly be more important than
defeating this threat. Either you join forces with the Sudesians, or we are
lost. It’s that simple.”
Arcus’s intense stare moved around the table. “You may now ask
questions. One at a time, please. Lord Auber?”
A young lord stood, anger on his sallow face. “We don’t know what
we saw or felt. Perhaps we were victims of a charlatan adept at creating
illusions.” He pinned me with a dark blue stare.
I straightened my spine. “I did not deceive you in any way. This threat
is real. If this council ignores it, you assure your own destruction.”
“If the things are imprisoned,” Lady Gedda said, “then how did
you”—she waved her hand in a circle—“procure one for your
demonstration?”
“Two of the Minax were hidden in the throne of Fors and the throne of
Sud. When the thrones were destroyed, the two were released and one
survived.” I lifted my chin. I saw no way around sharing the truth. “I have
the unique ability to hold the creature without the risk of death. It resides…
in me, under my control, which is why I knew I could demonstrate the
threat without risking you or your people.”
“First you say no one can survive its possession,” Lord Auber grated.
“Now you say that only you can. How convenient.”
“I assure you it is convenient,” I said grimly, mentally subduing the
Minax as it stirred at the rising tension. “For you. If I didn’t have this
ability, the Minax would still be spilling blood across your kingdom, as it
did only a few months ago. All those gruesome murders your constables
couldn’t understand or prevent? The Minax was hopping from host to host,
causing a killing spree. Now I’m keeping you safe.”
“If we can’t kill the creatures,” a middle-aged lady asked, her
periwinkle eyes serious, “what can we do?”
“We can keep the prison’s Gate from falling,” I answered. “King
Arkanus and I have a plan to do that. But if the worst happens and the
Minax do escape, we need as many Frostblood warriors as possible at the
Gate with us. Together with Firebloods, they can create frostfire, the only
thing that will weaken the creatures.”
“Frostfire is a myth!” a bearded lord said, crossing his arms. “I’m
finished with this nonsense.”
 “I don’t believe any of this,” Lady Gedda agreed. “These threats are
meant to scare us and lead us into an alliance we would never consider
otherwise.”
With a frustrated breath, I instinctively looked to Arcus to get his
courtiers back in line. He gave me an expectant look in return: Finish what
you started.
“Why don’t you believe it?” I asked. “Because you don’t want to? If
you require a further demonstration of the Minax’s capabilities, I’d be
happy to give you one.”
“Are you threatening me?” Lady Gedda asked, her delicate nostrils
flaring.
“No,” I replied calmly. “The threat exists. I’m merely warning you of
it.”
A young lord with ginger hair who hadn’t spoken yet leaned in and
spoke in urgent tones. “I do believe this. We all saw and felt the creature in
the arena. Denying it won’t make it go away.”
Tension rippled along the table.
Lady Gedda asked, “How do we know the Fire Queen will agree to
fight alongside us?”
“I am her niece,” I replied. “And Prince Kai, who has traveled here
with me, is her official proxy, able to sign any agreement on behalf of our
queen.”
“And he has my word to back him up,” Arcus added sternly. “I
traveled to Sudesia to meet with Queen Nalani myself. I have her oath that
she will hold to our alliance.”
“And you… you believe in this threat, Your Majesty?” Lord Auber
asked.
“I’ve seen the Minax myself.” He met their eyes, each in turn. “It is a
threat beyond anything we have ever faced, and it is coming for us. An
alliance is our only chance for survival.”
A subtle shift took place, a change in air pressure. Whether it was the
demonstration or my warnings or Arcus’s final words—or a combination of
the three—that had tipped the balance, it didn’t really matter. The council
was starting to believe.
They asked about the Minax’s capabilities, the making of frostfire, and
the alliance with Sudesia. I answered to the best of my ability, deferring to
Arcus when the questions involved treaties or Tempesian law. It went on so
long that I started to lose hope, but Arcus remained perfectly calm. Perhaps
council meetings were always this fraught with tension and disagreement.
“Well, I, for one, am convinced that action is necessary,” said Lady
Gedda, surprising me with her change of heart. “We’ve discussed this long
enough. Are we ready to vote?”
Arcus said, “Princess Ruby, if you don’t mind stepping out for a few
minutes, the council will—”
The door crashed open and a woman shrieked, “Where is the
Fireblood?”
 FOURTEEN

EVERY HEAD SWIVELED TOWARD Lady Blanding as she filled the

doorway. Enormous hat askew, eyes wild, her finger stabbed in my
direction. “Liar! Fraud! Trickster! You came here to turn us against one
another, to corrupt our proud traditions with your chicanery!”
In a hard voice, Arcus said, “This isn’t the time, my lady. Please wait
outside while the council—”
The rest was drowned out as she railed louder, moving toward me.
“With your whispers and fabrications, you invite us down the icy slopes of
decay and destruction!”
Though it shouldn’t have been funny, my lips twitched. “In general,
I’m not in favor of icy slopes, especially the ones leading to destruction.”
Her finger jabbed again as she stalked closer. “You turned me against
my own husband! Somehow your wicked thoughts crawled into my head
and made me attack him!”
I lifted my palms placatingly. “Technically, I didn’t make you. It was
—”
“I’ll see you dead for this!”
She flew at me before anyone could react, her thumbs pressed to my
throat, her surprisingly strong fingers squeezing tight. Arcus yelled to the
guards and rushed forward. But I already held her wrists in my stronger
grip.
Her faded blue eyes appeared huge in her wizened face. “I feel it. The
darkness when I touch her. She needs to be destroyed!”
My bruised throat ached as I said, “I am the only thing that stands
between you and that darkness. You’d better thank Fors that I’m an ally and
not an enemy.”
I shoved her away, and two council members caught her between
them.
“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 opportunity, 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.”
I wished I could reach up and, with a wave of my hand, erase the fear I
saw lurking in his eyes. So little scared him. It didn’t seem right that I was
the cause of his worst fears.
“Not all the time,” I said with a little palm-open gesture. “Sometimes
I’m as cautious as a baby rabbit.”
“Really.” He raised a brow. “Like when you set someone on fire?”
“Only people who choke me. And it was technically her hat. An ugly
one. That hat needed burning.”
His lips twitched. “It was a particularly grotesque hat, I’ll give you that
much.”
“I am sorry I lost my temper, and right when we had the council ready
to vote in our favor. That was poor timing.”
After a pause, he admitted, “As they did vote in our favor, I’m not
upset about her hat or your temper.”
“They did?” Relief whisked through me. “That’s wonderful news.”
He shook his head impatiently. “The fact remains, you need to be more
careful with the Minax.”
I nodded. “You mean that I could hurt someone if I lose control.”
“No!” Suddenly, he was shouting again. “You could hurt yourself!”
My hands twisted in my lap. “The Minax was still alert and active
from the arena. I should have realized that,” I admitted. “I should have been
more careful. But when Lady Blanding burst in hurling accusations, I
couldn’t help but react.”
He raked a hand into his hair, then both hands. “I know that! Dammit,
I know you were provoked. But the thought of that thing taking you
over…”
I reached up and batted his hands away, smoothing the ruffled strands.
“Don’t pull out your hair. I like your hair.”
He flopped on the bench again, his tone frustrated but with shades of
affection. “What am I going to do with you?”
 I let out a relieved breath. We were past the worst of his anger. And he
hadn’t asked me too many questions about the Minax.
“I have suggestions, but you always say no.” I looked up at him from
under my lashes.
After a beat, he laughed, then scowled. “I’m not ready to forgive you.”
“Of course not. Frostblood forgiveness is like wine. It takes years to
fully mature.”
“That isn’t even… How is that…” He closed his eyes, and when he
opened them, he was wearing a crooked smile. “You are truly ridiculous
sometimes.”
“I try.” Was it too soon to kiss him? When he smiled like that, I could
think of little else.
“That’s all you have to say?”
“I said sorry! Weren’t you listening?”
“You said sorry for everything except the arena.”
Back to this again! I puffed out a breath. “If I hadn’t done the
demonstration, how do you think that council meeting would have gone?”
His voice rose. “There would have been no council meeting!”
“Right! No meeting, and no vote, and no confession. We’d still be
trying to figure out a way to prove the existence of the Minax!”
He scowled down at his boots and then swore. And I knew I had won
this match.
“Don’t lie to me again,” he said finally, one hand coming up to cradle
my cheek, but this time his thumb pressed firm against my chin, as if he
were trying to press his words in with it. “Can you at least promise me that
much?”
I hesitated, struggling for words that would satisfy him but didn’t
contain either lies or promises. “I hated lying to you. I never want to lie to
you again.”
Tension eased from his shoulders. I breathed a little sigh of relief that
he’d accepted that.
His gaze dropped, and his thumb moved to drag across my lower lip,
leaving a trail of tingling cold. “You know, sometimes my jealousy over Kai
isn’t just about him wanting you. I envy the bond you share, the innate
understanding of each other as Firebloods.” His throat bobbed as he
swallowed. “You make plans that I’m excluded from. I don’t like that he
was there when I wasn’t. I know that he’ll go out of his way to protect you,
but”—his voice deepened—“I would give my life for you.”
I swallowed twice. Don’t cry, don’t cry.
“If you want in on our plans, you have to stop being so overprotective.
Just because it involves risk doesn’t make it foolish. You can’t just stand in
judgment, saying no.…” The image of him glowering from the balcony rose
up in my memory. My brow furrowed. “Wait. Why were you even there?”
He stroked my lip again, nearly distracting me from my question.
“You’ve lost me.”
“In the arena,” I said, fighting the urge to press my lips into his palm
and forget this whole conversation. “In your balcony. You said you didn’t
suspect what I had planned, so why were you there?”
His hand froze. “I can go there whenever I please,” he said
defensively. “It’s my balcony, Ruby. It’s my blasted kingdom.”
“You came back to check on me, didn’t you?” So much for supposedly
trusting me.
His eyes shifted. “I came back… no. Not to check on you.”
I crossed my arms. “Then why?”
His hand dropped to his lap as he blew out a breath. “Fine. Since you
won’t leave it alone, I’ll tell you. But it’ll just make you feel guiltier for
deceiving me.”
“Hmph. Go on.”
“I came back because I wanted to share your moment of triumph. I
couldn’t resist watching from the shadows as you told them who you are. I
couldn’t wait to see my courtiers bow to you. All right? Happy now that
you have my full confession? I wanted to feel quietly proud that my future
—” He broke off and cleared his throat. “That you had risen so far from
where you started.”
Though his confession moved me deeply, I fixated on one point. “Your
future what?”
“Hmm?” he asked, his eyes heavy-lidded, almost bored. But that vein
was pulsing in his jaw again.
“How did you mean to finish that sentence?”
“My future nemesis,” he said, emphasizing the word with deadpan
gravity.
I burst out laughing. “That is not what you were going to say.”
 “But it’s accurate.” His eyes narrowed, but he couldn’t hide the
beginning of a smile. “I’m almost positive you’ll bring about my downfall.”
I couldn’t stop laughing. “Now who’s being ridiculous?”
“If you don’t stop, I’m going to kiss it out of you.”
I leaned forward, eyes challenging, still grinning. “Do it. Make me
pay.”
“You think I won’t?” He reached out and pulled me closer, hemming
me between his powerful arms and his hard chest, just where I liked to be.
“I have a punishment in mind.”
I snuggled in. “The lash?”
“Far worse.” He pushed back far enough to touch his lips to mine
lightly, then drew away.
Instantly beguiled by the feel of his lips, I put my hand behind his
head. “More.”
His voice was deep and soft and far too smug. “Now, see? That’s the
torture part. It’s not up to you.” After another abrupt kiss, he drew away.
I growled and put my other hand up, trying to tug him toward me. It
was like pulling on a boulder. “Come here, you stubborn iceberg.”
“Oh, an insult. You deserve another punishment for that.” This time, he
lingered before drawing away.
“I don’t think you have as much self-control as you think you do.”
“How dare you?” he murmured, still staring at my mouth. “A
Frostblood is always restrained.”
“All right, then.” I hopped to my feet, full of sunny mischief, knowing
what would break down his resistance. “If I can’t tempt you, I’ll have to try
my wiles on someone else.”
He snagged my waist, pulling me with a jolt into his lap. “Your wiles
are mine.”
This time, his lips did not hesitate. His tongue was cold and tasted of
mint, but his mouth soon warmed. We struggled closer. His thumb rested
just under my jaw, meeting my wild pulse with soft strokes, his other palm
resting on my hip. My fingers kneaded his shoulders and the nape of his
neck. Our breathing was shallow by the time we came up for air.
Pushing strands of hair from my cheek, he said, “I can’t seem to stay
angry at you.” He stared at me for a second, then shook his head. “What
have you done to me?”
 “Not enough.”
He laughed.
Pulse hammering, I touched where his eyes crinkled at the corners.
“Do you need to yell some more? It’s not good to hold it in.”
His forehead dropped to rest against mine. “I’m tired of shouting.”
He stared into my eyes, and I was lost in ice, but it was the kind I
liked. The kind I would never try to break or harm, though I did enjoy when
it melted for me.
“Good.” I gave him one more warm kiss. “I’m glad you used it all up.”
“So am I.”
 SIXTEEN

AN HOUR AFTER DAWN, BROTHER Thistle, Arcus, Kai, and I stood in the
arena. The sky was unusually clear, a vivid disc of robin’s-egg blue. The
tiers of seating were empty, but a few members of Arcus’s council occupied
balconies, their colorful clothing standing out against the ice.
“Are you ready to make frostfire?” I asked, barely able to contain my
nervous anticipation for the next phase of our plan. The results of this test
would determine whether we had a weapon, however imperfect, against the
Minax.
Brother Thistle nodded. Kai made a “get on with it” gesture. Arcus
said nothing, as he and I were merely spectators.
According to Cirrus, frostfire had the effect of slowing and weakening
the Minax. Arcus and I had made frostfire together more than once, but
Brother Thistle believed it was our royal blood that gave us that ability. A
handful of royals making frostfire wouldn’t be much defense against
thousands of Minax if they broke free. We needed to be sure that others
could make it, too. Soon we would know for sure. We planned to leave the
capital in the next day or two, so this was one of our final and most
important bits of preparation before we set off in search of the Gate.
Kai faced Brother Thistle in the center. Arcus and I stood together a
safe distance away. When I gave the word, they brought their streams of fire
and frost together. Ribbons of orange painted their faces, reflected from the
flames. A crackling sound echoed over the icy walls.
Arcus and I waited anxiously for the fire and frost to merge into one
color, the telltale mark of frostfire.
“More,” I urged them.
Kai’s arms twitched, and he sent out more flame. Brother Thistle
poured out more frost.
The two streams remained obstinately separate.
Arcus stared with a fierce expression, as if he could will them to
combine.
 I spoke softly. “Kai is a Fireblood prince. Brother Thistle is descended
from Frostblood nobles. They’re as close to royalty as we’re likely to get. If
this doesn’t work for them, it won’t work for anyone.”
Arcus gave a single nod but didn’t break his stare. “Direct it at
something,” he suggested. “The platform.”
The wooden platform intended for the Manus executions was still
standing. Kai and Brother Thistle moved closer, then turned their flame and
frost toward the thick planking, but the ice doused the fire too fast to let it
burn.
“Kai, bring the heat up just a bit,” I called out. Brother Thistle had a
powerful gift. Maybe the two forces had to be equally matched.
He nodded and his flame burned brighter, sweat beginning to dot his
forehead. Come on, come on, I thought. A second later, the red and blue
streams intertwined. The separate colors together grew brighter, then pulsed
with a pale light.
I watched the bright shape grow into a rotating torque of blue-white
flame. Pressure built behind my rib cage. Discomfort turned to pain. The
Minax stirred testily inside me.
Leave! Danger! Flee! it hissed in my mind.
My legs tensed, muscles bunching with a nearly overwhelming urge to
run, escape. I took slow breaths, battling the impulse, wincing at the pain as
I engaged the creature in a silent contest of wills. I hated the parasite that
drew power from my blood, hated my emotions for feeding it, hated this
situation.
“Ruby?” Arcus turned to me, concerned.
I didn’t want him to see how badly I was affected, how little control I
had. I stared hard at the platform, as if so rapt I was unable to look at him. I
didn’t know what he might be able to read in my eyes.
“It’s close, isn’t it?” I asked, a touch breathless.
He nodded. “It’s not exactly frostfire. But I hope it’s close enough.”
His gaze stayed on me. I wished he’d look away. I didn’t want him
staring, worrying, assessing, judging. I felt my nostrils flare, my temper
budding into heat for no good reason except that I would rather hide my
weakness, and he was watching me too closely. He was too perceptive, too
in tune with me.
I didn’t like it. Wait.
 The Minax didn’t like it.
My agitation increased when I realized I couldn’t, at this moment, tell
which statement was true. Which thought was mine.
Then Brother Thistle took a step back, weaving unsteadily. As
powerful as the monk was, he was flagging.
“You can stop now!” Arcus called out, his attention pulled away. I
breathed a sigh of relief.
The fire and frost separated into two strands and petered out. Brother
Thistle and Kai dropped their arms. Kai shoved a lock of hair from his
forehead and grinned at us, glowing with the thrill of success. Brother
Thistle leaned heavily on his cane, panting. Arcus moved forward to help
him, only to be waved away.
“I am fine, son,” Brother Thistle said. “Offer your assistance to this
puny young Fireblood. He is about to faint from his exertions.”
Instead of snapping back as I expected, Kai chuckled. “You’re right,
old man. I could barely keep up.”
Now that the show was over, the council members rose and left their
balconies, filing out as quietly as they had watched. Arcus, Kai, and Brother
Thistle began discussing the test—analyzing the point at which the two
elements combined, making plans to train Frostbloods and Firebloods, and
sharing theories on how to improve the process. Normally, I would have
joined in and shared my own ideas, but I held back, crossing my arms to
hide my tremors, my chest tight. Turning away so they couldn’t see, I dug
the heel of my palm into my breastbone to ease the ache.
The Minax was passive now, but I could still feel its awareness.
Listening. Always listening. Waiting for that next dark feeling, that gleam
of sadness it could nurture into despair, the spark of resentment it could
kindle into violent fury.
With the Minax, I was never truly alone. And never truly myself.
If only I could expel the thing, reach into my heart and rip it out, burn
it, stomp it underfoot, sever its body with a sword. Anything! But my fire
was useless against this enemy. The sense of powerlessness made me want
to scream.
“I’ll get rid of you,” I whispered, hitting my fist once, hard, against the
middle of my chest. “Someday soon, I’ll destroy you,” I vowed.
The Minax lapped up my hate and preened.
 “What’s wrong?” Kai asked as he caught sight of me. Alarmed, he
strode forward. “What is it, little bird?” His hand came to my back, rubbing
gently.
“Take your hands off her,” Arcus said between gritted teeth, moving to
intercept.
“Something is wrong!” Kai shouted, sending him a fulminating glare
as he held on to me. “Can’t you tell?”
“I—” Arcus stopped, suddenly defensive as he registered my distress.
“It’s not for you to comfort her.”
Kai wheeled on him. “Isn’t it? That’s what I’ve been doing for a long
while now.”
“I’m right here,” I said, still struggling to subdue the Minax. But they
were too busy glaring at each other to notice.
“Are you implying I haven’t been?” Arcus’s brows lowered
dangerously.
Kai’s eyes hardened. “That’s right. You have not. I was there when she
risked her life taking the Fireblood trials. I was there when she was
delirious with fever. I was there when she wandered my ship at night,
possessed by a creature bent on destroying her. Did you know she almost
threw herself overboard during one of her nightmares?”
Arcus turned to me with a look of horror. “You—”
Kai’s voice rose to a shout, heat flowing from him. “And I will be
there for her when she has to face a hateful deity who wants to kill us all!
Where will you be? Wooing your court? Conferring with advisors?
Subduing uprisings?”
“Stop,” I tried to yell, but it came out as a whisper. The Minax was
growing in power, devouring the energy of the argument, exuberant at this
turn of events.
“I will not apologize for having responsibilities!” Arcus shouted back,
his hands balled into fists.
Kai’s arm tightened around me. “I have them, too, but I put Ruby first.
She deserves that much!”
Arcus looked murderous, but I saw guilt there, too. Kai’s accusations
had hit home.
“What has gotten into you, Kai?” I asked softly, more bewildered than
angry. “He’s been there for me in every way he could be, from even before I
met you.”
Kai bent a frustrated look at me. “But since you met me, who has been
the more reliable one? Your supposedly steadfast Frostblood king, or the
temperamental prince who vowed to marry you?” His golden-brown gaze
burned into mine. “You see me as flighty and irresponsible—you’ve
implied as much. And yet I’ve been the one at your side whenever you
needed me.” He shook his head. “You never gave me the opportunity to
show that I can be steadfast, too.”
Arcus’s hands twitched with leashed violence. I could hear his
breathing, too rapid, as his frigid gaze shifted between Kai and me.
My mouth opened, but no words came out. Why was he saying all
this? Why now? I’d thought everything was resolved between us. He
couldn’t still think of me that way, after I’d made it clear what I wanted.
Who I wanted.
“You and I are friends,” I said, willing him to agree.
“Yes, but did you ever consider that I could have been much more?”
He never took his eyes from me. “That I still could be?”
“Enough, princeling,” Arcus warned with an edge of violence.
Kai ignored him. My heartbeat stuttered as he slid his hand to my
cheek. “Ruby?”
The invisible tether that held Arcus snapped. He lunged forward, his
hands snaking around Kai’s throat. They went down in a heap, rolling over
the arena floor.
The Minax careened in a happy dance, and I could no longer fool
myself that I was managing it. Everything was spinning into chaos. The
moment I stopped trying to subdue the Minax, I found my voice.
“Stop it, you lackwits!” I screamed over the sound of punches and
grunts. “Or I’ll roast you both!”
Kai slammed Arcus’s forearms, breaking his hold, then landed a
cracking punch on his jaw. Arcus gave one back, then another. Bracing his
back on the ground, Kai placed his feet on Arcus’s chest and, in a blur,
flipped him on his back, got one punch in, and started to stand. Arcus swept
Kai’s legs out from under him, tackling him as he fell.
I lifted my palms, already covered with fire. Brother Thistle, who had
been watching the fight with an air of interested detachment, calmly raised
his hand. “Allow me.”
 He poured out a swathe of ice that covered both of them. Arcus
punched and elbowed his way through the layers of ice, while Kai melted
them. Brother Thistle just kept pouring out layer after layer after layer until
Arcus’s movements became sluggish, and Kai growled in frustration when
each layer he melted was replaced instantly.
Finally, trapped in ice up to their shoulders, they just glared at each
other, each with a look of killing fury, breathing heavily.
I was so angry, I thought my heart was going to burn its way out of my
chest, the Minax with it. The creature was whispering all the ways I should
punish this indefensible nonsense. I was on the edge of trying one or two of
its suggestions when Brother Thistle moved next to me and put an icy hand
on my shoulder.
“Very good, Miss Otrera,” he said quietly. “Peace now.”
His cooling touch and a number of deep breaths brought me a measure
of control. I was still furious, but I was myself again.
“You irredeemable fools!” I hollered, coming to stand between them.
“We’re facing an enemy who would destroy us all in a blink, and here you
are, trying to pulverize each other. We’re supposed to be working together!
That’s the whole point of all this! If you two can’t do it, what hope is there
for the Frostblood and Fireblood armies?” I threw up my hands. “I give up!
Kill each other, for all I care! I’m leaving.”
I stomped away.
“Don’t you dare!” Arcus bellowed.
“Wait, Ruby!” Kai’s voice sounded hoarse. Maybe he’d taken a punch
to the throat.
Good.
Hearing the smashing of ice, I tossed back a warning. “Don’t follow
me, either of you! I’m liable to kill you!”
I strode through the open doors, past the silent guards, and into the
castle. When I reached my chamber, I wrenched my satchel from the
bottom of the wardrobe and commenced jamming it full of essentials, all
the while making furious plans. I would ride to Tevros, hire someone to
captain the ship, and find the pirate moneylender myself. Surely one of the
other sailors knew where she lived. I didn’t need Kai. I didn’t need Arcus.
“Idiots!” I vented, buckling my satchel and slinging it over my
shoulder. “Clodpolls!” I burst out of the chamber and stomped down to the
kitchen to grab food for the journey to Tevros. I ignored the tall figure
striding toward me through the corridor, as well as the quietly fascinated
guards who stood at intervals. “Birdbrained maniacs!”
“Ruby.” Arcus’s voice, low and compelling.
“Leave me alone!”
“Ruby, please.” As I came to a corner, he reached out and grabbed my
sleeve.
“No!” I swung around. His face was a swollen mess with blue blood
smeared under his nose and on his chin. His lip was split and one eye was
already darkening. “Is your nose broken?”
He sniffed. “No.”
“Too bad.” I turned away, stomping toward the kitchen.
His footsteps followed. “You couldn’t seriously expect me not to react
to what he said to you. What amounted to a proposal of marriage, Ruby. In
front of me!”
“Yes, yes. You’re all that’s frightening and magnificent. No one dare
anger you, and so on.”
“This is not about my arrogance.”
“No”—I spun to face him—“it’s about the opposite. You are so
threatened by him that you think it’s necessary to kill him rather than let me
decide what I want.”
His eyes shadowed. “Can you blame me? What would I do if you
didn’t choose me?” The vulnerability turned into challenge. “What would
you do in my shoes?”
“I would package you up and send you off to Marella—”
“I never wanted Marella.”
I flapped my hand. “Whoever, and I’d wish you the best.”
“Really.” Oozing skepticism.
“Yes, really!” I tilted my chin up, wondering why the fury in my eyes
alone didn’t give him sunburn. “Because I don’t want to be with someone
who doesn’t want to be with me.”
“Neither do I!” He put his hands out as if to touch me, then seemed to
think better of it. “But I can’t bear the thought of you with anyone else.”
The desperation in his voice tugged at the soft places inside me. “Well,
I can’t bear the thought of you with anyone else, but that doesn’t mean I’m
going to go around trouncing the alternatives. It’s for you to decide who
you want, and it’s for me to decide who I want. If we choose each other,
that’s a happy ending. Anything else is doomed to fail.”
He stared at me for a second, then looked down, opening and closing
his hands. I followed his eyes. His knuckles were scraped and bleeding. I
shook my head and blew out a breath, angry all over again to see him
injured.
“Do you remember when I was about to leave for Sudesia,” I said,
“and you said that we needed to let each other go a little?”
His wary gaze snapped up to mine. “Don’t bring that up as an example
of how reasonable I can be. I regretted those words as soon as you were
gone. I don’t want us to let each other go. I want us to hold on with
everything we have.”
I felt the same, but I had to make him see.
“Listen, Arcus. You said that because you didn’t want me to feel
trapped. You wanted me to have choices because you understood that you
can’t hold on forever if the person you’re holding is pulling away.”
He sliced the air with his hand. “And now I understand what it was
like to think I’d lost you. I’m not willing to risk that again.”
My tone softened. “Are you talking about when I was ill at the abbey
and you thought—?”
“No! That was beyond…” He shook his head. “I can’t even think
about that. No, I was referring to what happened in Sudesia. I watched your
engagement announcement, Ruby. I watched you kiss him, the man you
were promised to marry.” He swallowed. “I thought you were gone, out of
my reach forever.”
I paused to consider that, conceding to myself that it would have been
agony. “I can only imagine how hard that was. If the situation were
reversed, I’d have probably set the whole island on fire.”
“See? You don’t know what it’s like to lose me, so it’s easy for you to
judge me harshly.”
“That may be true. But it’s not that I’m judging you for being
possessive. I feel that way about you, too.” I took a deep breath. “But I do
judge how you act on that feeling. You hurt my friend. You hurt my friend
who is already hurting. I chose you, Arcus. Over him. He is the one left
behind, despite being good and true to me. He was only arguing for a
chance, thinking he had one. He doesn’t.”
 “You have feelings for him. You care for him. I can see it.”
“Yes! I do! And I always will.”
He reared back as if I’d struck him.
“But it’s nothing to what I feel for you!” I grabbed the collar of his
tunic with both fists and shook him—which barely budged his big frame. “I
want you. I’ll choose you every day, over and over. Do you hear me? Don’t
give me a reason to choose differently.”
His head bowed toward me. His breaths sawed in and out. His hands
came to cover mine, pressing them against his chest.
“I don’t want you to choose differently.” His head dropped, his cheek
coming to rest on my hair as his arms came around me. “Don’t choose
differently. Ever.”
“Then don’t be a clodpate,” I muttered, trembling with all the emotions
surging through me.
He paused. “Or a Miserable Blockhead?”
I huffed an almost laugh. “Or that.”
“Forgive me.”
“All right.”
“Just like that?”
“I’m a Fireblood. I’m allowed to be mercurial.”
He started to laugh, then groaned. “My ribs. I want to hold you, but
everything hurts.”
“A good reminder for you.”
He chuckled softly, rubbing a hand over his chest. “You’re a cruel
woman.”
Before I could reply, the Minax whispered in my mind. Cruel, yes.
“What’s wrong?” Arcus asked, sensing my change in mood.
I shook my head and forced a smile.
 SEVENTEEN

BLACK SAILS AT DAWN. TEN SHIPS, twenty, a hundred—spanning the

horizon. A mix of Tempesian warships, Sudesian brigantines, and Safran
galleons, hulls cleaving a bloodred sea.
They all sailed under one flag: a white sun on a black background.
Above each vessel, a contingent of winged shadows flew the skies.
I floated above the masts, a wraith among wraiths. I felt no wind, no
cold, only the swirl of emotions from the sailors below: eagerness, purpose,
bloodlust, anticipation. Their tainted hearts churned for the next kill.
We shades would weave into their blood, drive them to more violent
acts, then reward them for their compliance by multiplying their human
sensations into something heady, rich, irresistible. Divine. Once they
experienced this potent inebriant, their mortal shells were never the same.
They would always need the next victim, the next conquest, the next
massacre.
This dark bliss had already become their lifeblood, their reason for
living.
The sails bellied out, a laughing tailwind careening us toward our
target. Ahead, the shore was thick with warriors ready to fight, defend, die.
Their pikes and axes glinted red with the dawn.
Clustered on the pebbled beaches, our prey held thoughts of love like
talismans—warm thoughts of children, siblings, parents, spouses. Their
families waited at home, praying for their victory.
We held thoughts of death. Anticipation wound tight in the mortals’
viscera. Elation filled us.
Soon, the rapture of battle.
When our small boats reached the shallows, our black-clad armies
poured forth without hesitation.
We, the shadows, were their shields.
Before the first enemy archer could loose an arrow, or the first
pikeman strike a blow, we sped to the waiting army. Reaving minds, we took
over their thoughts and intentions. They dropped their shields, turned on
one another, sliced throats, stabbed into gaps in armor—the soft flesh of
thighs, under arms, necks—those vulnerable, unprotected spaces where
blood pumped hot or cold.
Whether Frostblood or Fireblood, we distinguished not. Death in all
forms pleased us. Fed us.
The shadows danced among the dying.
I soaked up every scream, every cry, every last wish, drawing out the
agony as long as possible to savor each slow, rattling gasp. With whispered
words, I slowed hearts, tightened veins, restricted the flow of blood to
prolong those last precious moments, binding the spirit to the body for as
long as I could.
And just when the once-proud warriors finally thought to escape this
suffering and find peace, I cracked open their minds to tease forward each
regret, each memory of shame, of hatred, of fear, of defeat, making their last
moments torturous. I drew out their suffering with ravenous glee—like
sucking the flesh of an oyster from its shell.
A few, we saved. Those with darkest thoughts, greatest rage, deepest
hatred. Strong bodies with weak minds. We broke the spine of their
identities and remade them new. Recruited them to our cause.
In this way, each battle swelled our ranks.
Finally, we slipped from the dead to the living, from conquered to
conquerors. We entered their hearts and pulsed in the space between
heartbeats, sharing our pleasure, making them crazed with it.
When it was done, bodies coated the beach, the faces of the dead
contorted with their final moments of pain.
Our warriors stood panting, eyes wild with ecstasy, black tunics
soaked with blood, hearts full of death.
Already, we planned the next slaughter.
Death was life.
And we, the shadows, hungered.
 I woke gasping, hands flailing. A scream echoed in my ears. The
euphoria of battle pulsed in my veins—pleasure derived from other people’s
suffering.
My stomach roiled.
With a fiery fingertip, I lit a candle on the bedside table. Red-and-gold
bed hangings fell at the corners of the four-poster bed. Soft light poured
over the bookshelf and the upholstered chair by the darkened window. A
wide-eyed face peered back at me from the wavy glass. I started, then
realized it was my reflection. I remembered where I was—in my room in
the castle. It was the last night before we set off on our voyage.
A knock sounded. “Ruby?”
I slid out of bed and padded to the door. As soon as I opened it, Arcus
entered with a cold gust of air.
“I heard you scream,” he said in a sleep-roughened voice. His hair was
ruffled, shirt undone, feet bare.
I blinked in confusion. I’d screamed? “You could hear me?”
He stepped closer, looking at me with concern. “Our rooms share a
wall. Were you dreaming again?”
I rubbed my arms, still shivering with reaction. I couldn’t get warm.
“Here, get under the covers.” He moved to pull back the quilt. I
crawled into bed and he tucked the blanket around me.
“What happened?” he asked softly, the bed depressing with his weight
as he sat on the edge.
I leaned on him, resting my cheek against his shoulder, needing his
contact more than I needed warmth. “A battle.” My throat felt tight, every
word an ache.
He smoothed a hand over my hair. “Against whom?”
I stiffened. The warriors in the dream had been Frostbloods. His own
army. I didn’t want to tell him that I’d imagined killing them, that I’d
reveled in their pain. What kind of sick mind did I have to dream such
things?
I still felt a deep conviction that the Gate wasn’t open. If it were, the
Minax in my heart would feel it, and I would know it. So the dream hadn’t
been a scene from the present… but it could have been a vision of the
future. The future Eurus was planning.
 “Ruby, what’s wrong? I can see you’re upset. Talk to me.” After a
minute, his hand tightened on my quilt-covered knee. “Tell me something.
Anything.”
His worry pulled at me. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him what
I’d done in the dream.
“I feel like”—I opened my palms, struggling to put it into words—“if I
tell you, I’ll pull you into this web… this web I’m caught in. And then
you’ll be caught, too.” And you’ll see how twisted I’ve become and you’ll
never want to come near me again.
My throat closed and my eyes pricked with tears. I turned to blink
them away. My heart felt empty. I checked for the Minax.
I couldn’t feel it. Where was it?
Had it left me?
Panicked, I grabbed Arcus’s face, tilting it down so I could search his
eyes. My hands burned from the cold of his skin. I could feel my thumbs
digging into his cheeks, but I couldn’t gentle my touch.
“Ruby!” His large hands covered mine. “For Tempus’s sake! What’s
wrong?”
My breathing hissed in and out like a ragged wind. The east wind
laughed as it sped us toward the battle. I shook away the memory.
His eyes were the same icy color as always. I pushed his cuff from his
wrist and checked the vein. Frostblood blue. No sign of the Minax.
I sat back, shoulders slumping with relief.
He slid a palm to my cheek, turning my face and scrutinizing me. “I
don’t understand. What is this web you’re talking about? What has you so
scared?”
How could I tell him that despite my expressions of confidence, I was
no longer sure whose will was stronger, the Minax’s or mine? I’d told
myself I was in control, but the nightmare had completely unsettled me. It
had made the essence of the creature clear, shown me all that it wanted. Its
goal was to crowd out my consciousness until there was nothing left of me,
just as the shadow had done to the warriors.
The longer it was in me, the less I could sense it. It was merging with
me more each day, seamlessly blending itself into my own thoughts so I
could no longer reject its dictates. In time, I would be the shadow in my
dream.
 Fine tremors started in my chest and arms, and I hugged myself to stop
them.
“Turn your back to me,” Arcus said in his this-is-not-a-request voice.
I did, and his hands came to my shoulders and kneaded the tense
muscles. I resisted at first, too anxious, but soon the tension started to drain
from my upper back. My eyelids slid closed.
“Tell me about your dream,” he said, his voice compelling, almost
hypnotic.
I shook my head.
He sighed. “I don’t like it when you won’t talk to me.”
“It was awful,” I whispered. “And I don’t want to think about it.”
Another sigh. For several minutes, he continued the gentle pressure
with his thumbs against the sides of my neck.
“Better?” he asked finally.
“I’ll pay you to never stop,” I joked softly, half in a trance.
After a pause, he chuckled, low and silky. “How much coin do you
have?”
My lips curved up. “I’ll pay you in kisses.”
His hands stopped, then started again. “It will take a great many,” he
warned.
“For you, I have an unlimited supply.”
His lips replaced his thumb on my neck. “I want them all.”
“You don’t haggle very well,” I argued a little unevenly. “You’re
supposed to demand more payment and then I offer more until I’m
unsatisfied. That’s how you know you have a good deal.”
“I want whatever you’re offering. And I don’t want you to be
unsatisfied.”
I chuckled at his double meaning. “You’d get fleeced at the market.
Clearly a king isn’t taught how to haggle.”
One of his hands continued to knead my neck. The other slid across
my stomach, the cold burning through the thin linen nightgown. My pulse
kicked up.
“I know a treasure when I see one.” He trailed his lips from my neck to
my shoulder, lifting away the fabric. I shivered. “One does not haggle over
a treasure.”
 “I wouldn’t know.” I tilted my head, giving him better access.
Lethargy stole into my limbs, but my body was responding to his gentle
caresses in ways that had nothing to do with relaxation. My skin warmed.
Blood fizzed in my veins. “I’m not used to being able to afford something
that costly.”
He smoothed my hair over one shoulder, his lips finding the nape of
my neck. I gasped, the sensations all but overwhelming me.
“If something is valuable enough, one pays the price gladly.”
“And would you regret the expense later?”
“Never. Not when the prize is something I covet.”
I swallowed, knowing we were talking about much more than a market
transaction. “And what if the… treasure… considers you to be an equal
prize?”
He sighed, his cool breath fanning my throat as he turned me toward
him. “Then I would count myself lucky.”
After the terrible dream, it was so good to feel valued, precious. I slid
my hands into his hair, relishing its dark softness. His lips descended slowly
and I watched, entranced, my eyes closing at the contact. It kindled a spark
inside me. Heat poured from my heart, but the cool of his chest against
mine drew heat into his skin, working to equalize our temperatures. We
pressed closer, our lips meeting harder. He held me close and fell, slowly,
sideways onto the bed, carrying me with him, cushioning my fall with his
shoulder and arm. His shirt rode up with the movement. Before we even
settled, I had my hands on his bare waist, greedily feeling his muscles
beneath my palms. He sucked in a breath.
“Are my hands too hot?” I asked, concerned, pulling them away. “Did
I hurt you?”
“Shh, no.” In a swift movement, his shirt was gliding to the floor like a
cut sail. He took my hand and placed it on his chest. “Touch away.”
It was a heady luxury, feeling each whipcord curve and hard muscle
under my fingers. I smoothed up and down slowly with a gentle abrasion
that made him shudder.
“You feel so good,” I whispered.
“I’m glad you think so.” His voice was ragged. “There’s nothing I love
more than your hands on me. Your lips on mine. No better feeling than you
in my arms.”
 I trembled as he smoothed his hands up over my ribs, stopping just
below my breasts. I held my breath, waiting.
He paused, his fingers giving a little twitch. Then he let out a breath
and smoothed his hands down to my waist. His kisses cooled, nipping
gently at the corners of my lips, sliding back and forth in a way that was
less arousing, more comforting.
He was exerting his self-discipline, preparing to pull away. Cooling me
off by degrees. He was going to be sensible and staid and careful.
Anger licked up from my heart, sudden and blazing.
I didn’t want to be cooled. I didn’t want to be sensible. I wanted to
forget the future and live in the present, to lose myself in something good.
For once, why couldn’t he just let go?
With a determined hand, I grabbed the back of his neck. I slung my
other arm across his waist and pulled him to me. Our hips met. I ground
mine into his while I took one of his hands and placed it squarely on my
breast. He sucked in a breath, and his hand tightened convulsively. I
moaned as a rush of sensation flowed through my nerve endings. His palm
was strong and intimate and gentle and felt like nothing else ever had. His
cold touch burned and scorched and made my blood hum through my veins.
I didn’t want it to stop.
His breaths came fast and uneven. He seemed to struggle with himself,
as if he thought he should pull away, but couldn’t.
Good. I was so tired of his damned self-control.
“Ruby,” he gasped helplessly.
I stopped his words, slanting my mouth under his, pulling him closer,
nearly bruising myself in my frenzy. I wanted to absorb him, devour all the
feelings of his skin on mine and feed off the euphoria. Something inside me
grew and multiplied, a need rushing forward.
“I should go,” he managed in a choking voice, his lips fused to the
tender skin under my ear, exploring my jaw like it was a lost continent
coated in gold dust. He muttered, almost to himself, “But how can I keep
resisting you? How can I keep tearing myself away?”
“Go later,” I breathed, while the world turned black and white. I was
losing control, but I no longer cared. “Leave at dawn.”
When my hand gripped his bare shoulder to pull him closer, he turned
his head to kiss and nip my wrist.
 His eyes shot wide. He inhaled sharply, his hand tightening on my arm.
I opened my eyes and saw what he was looking at: my vein, pulsing dark
like night.
In desperation, I lifted my upper body from the bed to push the
softness of my chest to his. He expelled a jagged breath—huuuh—then he
swore again and levered himself off the bed, stumbling back and staring at
me, breathing heavily.
“Don’t touch me,” he panted from several feet away.
His words lashed at something inside me. I looked at him in shock, his
contempt startling me from my frantic state.
“It’s still me, Arcus,” I said shakily, my nightgown hanging off one
shoulder, my skin still humming, needing his.
“Like blazes it is. Look at your wrist.”
I sat up, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. “The Minax feeds
off desire.” As soon as I said it, I knew it was true. “That means I want you.
It’s still me wanting you. I can’t control how it reacts.”
He shuddered, but this time it was with revulsion, not pleasure. “I can’t
touch you while you… until it’s gone.”
My heart squeezed painfully at the idea that he thought he couldn’t
even touch me. “That might never happen.”
“Don’t say that!” His eyes showed stark fear.
I met his gaze squarely. “This might be who I am now. Forever.” Can
you love me like this? Can you ever want me again?
He shook his head, furious as he snatched up his shirt from the floor. “I
refuse to believe that.” He swallowed and balled his shirt in his fist. “The
book… there must be answers. We’ll find them.”
It was so clear that he found this aspect of me unacceptable. He might
say he accepted my Nightblood side, but that wasn’t true. If I didn’t find a
way to get rid of the Minax, he would wash his hands of me, would walk
away without a backward glance. His reaction seared my pride and slashed
at my tender insecurities, making me bleed inside. But I refused to show
him. He wasn’t the only one who could freeze someone out.
“And what, you’ll avoid me until then?” I demanded. “Until I’m pure
enough for you to touch again?”
“It’s not a question of pure enough,” he practically spat. “It’s a
question of who is making your decisions. Is it you? Or is it… that thing?”
 That thing. I struggled every day to keep that thing inside myself to
protect him and his precious kingdom and everything he held dear. How
dare he question my decisions? “There are some who might not care.”
His brow furrowed. “Meaning?”
I lounged back on the bed, letting the loosened gown fall farther. “Not
everyone has your scruples. If you won’t touch me, maybe someone else
will.”
His breath stopped, his mouth coming open in disbelief. “Are you
threatening me?” Naked hurt showed on his face. “How… how could you
say that? I would never say that to you. I would never even think it.”
I didn’t care that I was dancing on the edge of a cliff. I didn’t care that
his heart was bared to me, and that I could crush it with a few words. I
enjoyed that fact, and savored it.
No. In some part of my mind, I felt deep regret. I struggled to contain
the beast inside me.
And failed. The regret was drawn away, like fog on the wind.
I met his gaze coolly. “Just remember the choice was yours. You didn’t
want me, not the other way around.”
He took a couple of harsh breaths, the sting of betrayal showing in his
expression in subtle shades. My heart surged, gleeful, even as sickness
seethed in my stomach, at complete odds with the joy.
His voice was low and taut, his eyes daggers of pain. “I’ll always
remember this moment.”
I crossed my arms, starting to shake. Remorse continued to surge over
me in waves, but the need to hurt pushed it back. “Remember what?”
He sucked in an unsteady breath. “As the first time I saw a side of you
that I cannot love.”
The sharp burn of those words penetrated my haze. I squeezed my eyes
shut, hearing my door open and close, the slam reverberating through the
walls. His footsteps faded and another slam echoed farther away. My heart
raced, euphoria souring into crushing remorse. But the sadness was drawn
away, leaving me numb.
Sitting up on the edge of the bed, I turned my palms to the ceiling,
resting the backs of my hands on my knees and examining my wrists.
One of the veins was garnet red. The other, inky night.
PART TWO
 EIGHTEEN

I CLAMBERED DOWN THE RIGGING, hopped to the deck, and lifted my

arms for a much-needed stretch. After finishing a four-hour watch in the
crow’s nest, it felt good to shake out my cramped muscles.
So far, there’d been no sign of any other sails, just a low, gray sky that
robbed the sea of color. Here and there, wispy clouds scudded past in
chaotic, upside-down versions of the foam-tipped waves.
“It’s all yours, Seva,” I said in Sudesian.
The Fireblood master gave a graceful bow before climbing into the
rigging for her turn on watch, her orange hose and red tunic making her
look like a living flame.
It had taken a few days to crew and supply our ships. Kai had insisted
we take no more than four. Any more would spook Liddy. She had eyes all
over the seas, so she would know the Errant Princess was on its way long
before we arrived, but Kai said that was a good thing. An unfamiliar ship
would be boarded as soon as it entered her territory.
Lord Pell had been left in charge of readying the Tempesian fleet.
Once we had directions to the Gate of Light, we’d send word, and the rest
of the ships would follow.
We hadn’t seen signs of the ships Queen Nalani had promised us. I
prayed to Sud we could count on her. If the worst happened and Eurus
managed to open the Gate, we needed Frostblood and Fireblood forces in
order to make frostfire, or their version of it. Right now, all we had were the
dozen Fireblood masters who’d traveled with us from Sudesia, plus me and
Kai.
Seeing Kai there, I made my way to the quarterdeck. It was raised
above the main deck, affording a clear view of the ceaseless activity in the
rigging above and on the main deck below. Kai stood on the port side, a few
feet away from the helmsman at the wheel. His gaze seemed to take in
everything at once, nothing too small for his notice. It was in large part due
to Kai’s keen-eyed supervision that the Frostblood and Fireblood sailors
were working together in harmony.
Kai gave me a courteous nod as I reached his side. He was in his
element with the salt spray and sunshine, the breeze ruffling his hair. His
feet were braced wide, shoulders relaxed, his loose white shirt untucked
over black breeches that disappeared into his polished black knee-boots. His
only concession to the cold was a fur vest he had picked up from
somewhere in Tempesia, though it looked more like an accessory than a
barrier against the wind. As I stopped a few inches away, I smelled the soap
he favored, scented with sandalwood.
We hadn’t had a moment alone since the arena, but now that we did, I
didn’t know what to say. I wanted to make sure he was all right, but asking
would have insulted him. I wanted to apologize, but that would be even
worse. A couple of minutes ticked past as I discarded various possibilities.
“I should warn you,” he said in a bored tone, “I have no patience for
awkward silences.”
I pushed away tendrils of hair that insisted on breaking free of my
braid. “I don’t enjoy them, either.”
“So?”
I sighed. Time to take off the bandages and examine the wounds. It did
no good to leave things festering in the dark.
Instead of looking at Kai, I watched a sailor scrubbing the planks with
salt water and sandstone on the main deck. “Why did you say those things
to me in the arena?”
He paused for a few seconds before answering, and the tension inside
me wound tight.
“In the abbey,” he said, “I spent two days taking care of you, wiping
your brow with a cool cloth, listening to you mumble nonsense, worrying
you might never wake.”
That wasn’t the reply I’d expected. I felt a gut punch of remorse at
how little I’d said to acknowledge his care of me. “I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t mind. I’d do it again. That’s not what bothered me. But no
sooner did Arcus arrive than you disappeared with him.”
I hadn’t thought about it, but he was right. “That was thoughtless of
me.”
 He clasped his hands behind his back and stared forward. “No one else
exists when he’s around.”
I closed my eyes tight. “I’ve neglected you. Our friendship.”
He scoffed, turning his head to look at me finally. “You decided our
bond was merely friendship. You decided it so quickly, back in Sudesia,
probably the moment you set eyes on him again. It didn’t take you long to
forget that you were betrothed to me.”
A flush crept up my cheeks. “Kai, that’s unfair. The queen forced the
betrothal on us.”
His jaw tightened. “I’d realized I wanted it.”
I felt as if my guts were being twisted by an invisible fist. I didn’t
know his feelings had run that deep. “I had no idea.”
“I know you didn’t. You didn’t want to know. It isn’t as if I hid how I
felt.”
“I’m so sorry, Kai.” Maybe I had been willfully unaware of what he
was offering. It killed me to think of hurting him. “But you seemed to
accept that I was with Arcus.”
“I thought I had. But I meant what I said to him. He isn’t always there
when you need him. That bothers me. At those times, I think, I could do
better.” He turned, his eyes boring into mine. “I would put you first.”
Even now, there was an undeniable pull when I looked at him. We
were so similar, twin flames glowing in unison. In some ways, he
understood me better than anyone else. “There is not a doubt in my mind
that whoever holds your heart will be incredibly happy.”
“But it won’t be you,” he said in resignation, and there was the dying
light of a question in his eyes, a question he knew had already been
answered.
“No,” I said, my chest aching. “Not in that way. But I hope I’ll always
have the… the affection you hold for friends.” Tears gathered behind my
eyes and I blinked against them, but a fugitive escaped down my cheek.
“Come here,” he said in tones of patient forbearance. He hooked an
arm around me and pulled me to his chest. I stayed there for a minute until I
had myself under control.
“You shouldn’t try to hold in your tears,” he admonished. “A Fireblood
cries when she’s sad.”
 “Apparently.” I sniffed and stepped away with a cleansing breath.
“Thank you, Kai. For being my best friend.”
“You’re welcome. I am not entirely certain you deserve me.”
“I very much doubt that I do.” I watched him closely. “Please tell me
you’re not too upset. I can’t bear you hurting.”
“No?” His mouth curved up on one side, his eyes crinkling at the
edges. “You can’t bear it?”
“No. I truly can’t.”
“And if I say I will never recover?”
I crossed my arms. “I’d say you were just trying to make me feel
worse. If you were really that broken up over me, I wouldn’t have seen
Sorcia, the curvy little quartermaster, letting herself into your cabin late last
night. And you wouldn’t smirk to yourself when Doreena fawns over you
from afar.”
A flush crept into his tanned cheeks. “Sorcia is… an old friend. We…”
He cleared his throat. “You can hardly judge me for that. You and Arcus
spent the voyage from Sudesia kissing on deck for everyone to see.”
“I’m not judging. But I can’t see you moving on to someone else if
you were sleeping feet away from the person you really wanted. On some
level, you had already let me go.”
He narrowed his eyes, staring straight ahead for a long time. “You
might be right.” After a time, his shoulders relaxed and his back
straightened. “If I’d really wanted you, I would have fought for you.”
I winced. If I’d really wanted you… Well, I’d wanted to convince him,
hadn’t I? I couldn’t complain that he’d agreed too easily. “Yes.”
“And I would have won.”
“You think so, do you?” I asked with a smile. How quickly his
arrogance bounced back. I was glad of it.
He nodded, more confident than I’d seen him in a while. “I know it.”
He turned scalding eyes on me, making blood seep into my cheeks. “You
have no idea how I held back with you, Ruby. No idea. You hardly had a
taste.”
Despite the flustered heat under my skin, I couldn’t help but laugh.
“I’m sure someday I’ll regret missing out.”
He faced forward, posture easy, his face still wearing that knowing
grin. “You will.”
 And somehow, I knew things were all right between us. For a minute,
we stood in silence, watching the bellied sails and the clear sky and the
rolling sea. But the silence was no longer awkward.
“So, what should we expect from your mercenary friend when we
arrive?” I asked, changing the subject without preamble.
“Worried?” he teased.
“The unknown always worries me.”
He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “Hmm, what can I tell you about
the lovely Liddy, moneylender of pirate fame? She marries for land, and she
marries often.” He looked at me to see my reaction, grinning at my
confused expression. “Her husbands tend not to live long.”
“Does she help them into an early grave?”
He shrugged. “Some of them were old enough when she married them
that they might have died of natural causes. Others have had… unfortunate
accidents.”
“Then why does anyone marry her? Doesn’t everyone know her
reputation?”
“Well, she’s beautiful,” he said musingly. “But generally her unlucky
grooms have little choice. She blackmails or threatens people who owe her
money or favors. It’s either marry her or face something worse.”
“What could be worse than marrying a murderess?”
His eyes shifted away. “There are worse things. Knowing she’ll go
after your family, for instance.”
A cold gust made the sails snap and the ship list to port. A cloud
passed over the sun, casting us in shadow.
“She sounds ruthless,” I said with a tiny shiver. “Are you sure we
should be going to see this woman?”
“What choice do we have? Liddy has Marella, and Cirrus told us to
save her, hopefully because she knows the location of the Isle of Night. The
good news is, Liddy is a mercenary to her core. If we pay her enough, she’ll
give Marella to us.”
His voice was cool and even, but I didn’t like the tension in his face
and the way he wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“Kai, you don’t owe her money, do you?”
“Of course not,” he snapped, his lips tightening. He brushed a speck of
lint off his shoulder and muttered, “At least, I won’t after I repay her.”
 “Oh my gods… Why would you borrow from her?”
He shot me a look of annoyance. “I had reasons. I don’t need to justify
them to you.”
I stiffened. “Forgive me for asking.”
He sighed. “I just don’t like to talk about it. I’d rather forget that time
in my life. It was after I failed the Fireblood trials and my family lost their
island. My father took ill and my sister was caring for both him and my
young niece. They needed food and shelter and medicine, and it was up to
me to help. But I had no idea how. It was before I began privateering.”
My heart gave a tiny pulse of heat to think of him being that desperate
and alone. “So you borrowed money from Liddy?”
“I had no choice. And I did pay her back faithfully… until the last few
months when I’ve been busy. With you, I might add.”
“You missed payments?” I asked with alarm.
“Only a couple. A problem soon to be rectified when we approach her
with bags of Tempesian coin. It will delight her to take money from the
coffers of the Frost King.”
“So she’s a Fireblood?”
“She is.”
“Then don’t go to this meeting. I’ll go in with the Fireblood masters.”
“Not without me, you won’t. She wouldn’t tell you anything if you
went in alone. You’re a princess, and she’s an outlaw. You’re as far apart as
sea and sun.”
“Why does she trust you, then? You’re a prince.”
“An empty title when I met her. I’m a known entity, and more
important, I owe her money. She trusts people she can control or destroy. If
she laid a finger on you, the entire Sudesian navy wouldn’t rest until she
was captured.”
He had a point. “Well, I hope she’s as forgiving as you think she’ll be
when you show up on her doorstep. Which is where, exactly?”
“She owns islands all the way from the Gray Isles to Sudesia, but word
is that she’s on Serpents Cay this time of year.”
“I’m going with you to that meeting,” I stated, in case there was any
doubt.
“Of course you are. Did you think I deluded myself there was any
hope of you staying behind?”
 He grinned and I grinned back. I hoped it meant things were finally
returning to normal between us.
The moment was shattered by Brother Thistle’s groan floating up from
the foot of the stairs leading to the quarterdeck.
The few days of our voyage so far had gone smoothly, with clear
weather and calm seas, but Brother Thistle, with his gray-tinged skin and
tightly pressed lips, looked as if he’d been on a storm-tossed ship for weeks.
He made his way up the steps slowly, with one hand on the railing and the
other on his cane.
I reached out to take his arm. “I still can’t believe you’re coming with
us. Are you sure this was a good idea?”
The wind played havoc with the hem of his robe, forcing him to hold it
down with one hand. He looked as out of place on a ship as a fish on land.
“I detest sea travel,” he said in a low voice. Frost covered his cane—a
sure sign that his emotions weren’t completely in check.
“It’s not too late to change your mind.” If his seasickness hadn’t abated
by now, it probably wouldn’t for the whole trip. “One of the ships could
turn around and take you back.”
He shook his head. “I must do this.”
Just then, a flash of blue moved in my peripheral vision. Arcus
appeared at the top of the companionway, his head swiveling as he searched
the deck, stopping when he saw me. My pulse danced in surprise as he
approached. He’d done everything he could to avoid me for the past week
since that night in my bedroom. He’d barely spoken two words to me, and
only when necessary, only when we were among other people. I hadn’t even
seen him alone.
For once, I hadn’t tried to push into his space. I felt awkward,
confused, and bitter at his reaction. Ashamed of the way I’d lashed out. A
tangled mess of feelings I wasn’t ready to sort through.
Still, like an addict, I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. As he mounted
the steps to the quarterdeck, I drank in the way his broad shoulders
stretched the fabric of his bluish-gray shirt under the indigo cloak. The wind
raked his hair, making it fall in enchanting waves over his forehead and
ears. If we’d been alone—and not at odds—I would have sunk my fingers
into it without hesitation and drawn those sculpted lips close for a kiss.
Who was I kidding? We wouldn’t even have had to be alone.
 I strove to sound casual. “We were just discussing the moneylender,
who is going to do her best to lighten your treasury.”
Arcus patted Brother Thistle on the shoulder, then faced Kai. “I’m
going with you.”
“Not an option,” Kai replied immediately. “Liddy hates Frostbloods.
You would ruin any chance of her opening up to us. Ruby and I will handle
this one.”
Arcus crossed his arms, still not sparing me a glance. “If I’m not
going, neither is Ruby.”
Irritation distracted me from appreciating the way his arms bulged in
the too-tight shirt. “Didn’t we recently have this conversation? About you
being too protective?”
“I’m not saying I need to be in the meeting. I merely want to be on the
island in case anything goes wrong.”
I folded my arms, prepared to list all the reasons why that wasn’t
possible, but Kai surprised me by saying, “That sounds reasonable. You’ll
need to stay out of sight, though.”
Tension visibly drained from Arcus, his shoulders and jaw relaxing.
“I’ll go wherever you tell me.”
I stared at him, bemused. He was actually willing to take orders from
Kai just so he could stay close to us.
Kai paused, then nodded his agreement. Brother Thistle was smiling,
clearly pleased that they’d come to terms. I looked between all three,
feeling as if some subtle shift had happened. A tentative offer and
acceptance of trust or some other message I was missing.
If there was even a question that they might try to cut me out, I was
having none of it.
“I’m going to that meeting,” I stated, flicking a look at Arcus as I
added, “and you’re staying here where it’s safe.”
There was no telling what Liddy might do if she had the Frost King at
her mercy. For once, it was me trying to protect him.
“Maybe it’s you who should stay behind for once,” Arcus said stonily,
his eyes implacable. It felt as if he were staring right through me. I
suppressed a shiver.
“We are all taking risks,” Kai said. “I need Ruby at the meeting.” He
turned to me. “I have an idea how you can help if Liddy decides I owe her
more than just repayment of my debt. But I’d feel better if Arcus were
nearby in case things go wrong.”
There it was again. Some unspoken truce between them. Kai had even
—finally—called Arcus by name. I threw up my hands, knowing this
argument was lost.
“Fine, Kai, but if he gets hurt, I’m holding you responsible.” I flushed,
feeling Arcus’s eyes on me.
“If he is hurt,” Kai muttered, “I have no doubt you’ll take it out on
me.”
“Just so long as we’re clear.”
 NINETEEN

IN THE COLD, DARK HOURS BEFORE dawn, I crept into Brother Thistle’s
cabin with a tiny flame lit in my palm. He slept soundly, his back to me, for
which I whispered a quick thank-you to Sud. He’d be furious if he caught
me.
It was the work of a few minutes to search his trunk and find the
familiar wooden box that held the relic: a piece of Cirrus’s cloth. Since I’d
contacted the goddess once, I was sure I could successfully contact her
again, and this time I would ask more questions about rescuing Marella and
getting to the Gate.
Tucking the box under my arm, I returned to my cabin, setting it on my
lap as I sat on my bunk. When I drew the cloth out, I took a moment to
calm my breathing and my mind, then pushed out a gentle layer of heat, the
way I had before. A surge of prickly energy flowed up my arms. I waited,
expecting the room to fade and Cirrus to appear.
Nothing happened. The mahogany-paneled walls of the cabin stayed
resolutely solid.
I lay down, clutching the relic to my chest. Maybe my mind wasn’t
calm enough. I shut my eyes and waited, my breathing slowing until the
silken threads of sleep crept over me.
Sometime later, the scents of wintergreen and wood fires filled my
cabin. I inhaled, expecting the sense of peace and calm I had during my
vision of Cirrus.
Instead, a pounding in my head made me feel as if ice smashed into
my skull. Then a gust of blistering desert air seared my skin. I let out a cry
and opened my eyes.
Two strange figures loomed over me: a vibrant, dark-haired woman
with flames in her eyes and a blue-eyed, serious-faced man, his skin and
hair covered with frost. He wore armor made of ice, and she a gown made
of flames. Power crackled in the air.
 I knew who they were. They looked just as they did in the tapestries in
Forwind Abbey.
“Finally,” Fors, god of the north wind, said dispassionately, dropping
his ice-coated fists. He examined his hands. “I would hate to think I’d lost
my touch reaching into the mind of a mortal.”
“Punching your way into it, you mean.” Sud, goddess of the south
wind, shook her head at him before returning her attention to me. “She is
small.” Her head tilted. “A fledgling.”
Fors sighed. “She is mortal. What did you expect? They are all puny.”
“Cirrus said she held much power when she sent us here in her place.”
Sud sounded skeptical. “I do not see anything exceptional. But then, these
things do not always show on the surface.”
My blood rushed in my veins as they examined me. Instead of Cirrus,
somehow I’d summoned Fors and Sud, the god and goddess who had
created Frostbloods and Firebloods. I lay stunned and silent, trying to
decide if this was a dream. It might have been. They didn’t behave like
deities, or at least not like Cirrus—stately and elegant. Instead they behaved
like regular bickering siblings.
“Are you… are you really here?” I asked in a whisper so quiet I barely
heard myself.
“Fear not, mortal,” Fors said in a loud, nearly toneless voice while
taking stock of my cabin with a bored countenance. “We mean you no
harm.”
“You need not shout,” Sud admonished him. “We are already speaking
at a volume detectable by mortal ears. In our long absence from their realm,
you have forgotten much, my brother.”
Fors sniffed once and raised a brow at his sister but didn’t reply.
I rubbed my eyes and blinked. There they were, still there.
Sud smiled, cocking her head again. “They are rather charming, aren’t
they?” With slow deliberation, she reached out and touched my nose with
her burning fingertip. Boop. My eyes rounded. Hers crinkled at the edges.
“In their way,” Fors agreed coolly. “Though I prefer my mortals a little
more… authoritative and intimidating.”
“To each her own,” Sud countered.
“You’re speaking another language,” I wondered aloud, just above a
whisper. “Yet I understand you.”
 Sud continued to smile indulgently. “There wouldn’t be much point in
talking otherwise.”
It was so wrong to be lying in bed in front of the god and goddess, but
when I tried to move, my limbs wouldn’t obey. “Should I… should I
kneel?” I asked worriedly.
The goddess waved a hand. “No time for that. We come to you on
behalf of our sister, goddess of the west wind.” She shook her head,
frowning. “I am quite out of practice at conversing with mortals. I will
speak plainly. Cirrus told us you have used her relic to try to speak with her.
Do not do so again. She cannot help you, and neither, unfortunately, can we.
Our mother, Neb, made us vow never to interfere with mortals after our
brother Eurus, well, ruined everything.”
“Irritating,” Fors said, the ice on his body crackling. “After we saved
him from exile.”
The flames in Sud’s eyes flared brighter. “Unforgivable. But then, our
mistake was trusting him.”
“So the stories are true?” I asked in awe.
Suddenly, the twin gods appeared as children. Their cheeks were more
rounded, their olive skin and white teeth glowing with health. They giggled
as I stared.
“It was a youthful folly.” Sud motioned between herself and her twin.
“We were but this old when we found Eurus alone on the island. We
brought him to our parents, begged them to forgive him. We thought he had
changed.”
“We were wrong,” Fors said. “He could not bear that we had created
mortals with our own gifts. He had to have the same. And when he could
not, he vowed to destroy our creations. If he releases his shadows,
Frostbloods and Firebloods will cease to exist.”
In the space of a blink, they returned to their adult forms. They stared
at me, waiting.
“I want to stop him,” I said earnestly, shaking with the need to do
whatever the gods commanded. “Please, what can I do?”
Fors said, “Eurus believes you are full of darkness, a mortal specially
made to do his bidding. Is he correct?”
“No,” I said firmly, then added desperately, “I hope not.”
 The goddess narrowed her eyes in contemplation. I had the sense she
was peering into my soul. “This girl is one of my own, and yet she loves
one of yours.”
“Of course,” Fors replied in a superior tone. “How could she not?”
“Love can make you strong,” she said, giving him a significant look.
“And love can make you weak.”
“Irrelevant,” Fors replied. “The only question is whether she has
enough control to fight the darkness.”
“Or whether she is brave enough to succumb,” Sud added.
They nodded in unison.
“What does that mean?” I asked urgently.
Sud peered at me for a few moments before saying, “Know this: We
cannot interfere as long as Eurus keeps Neb’s law. A mortal form with only
mortal abilities breaks no vow.”
“If he should slip, though,” Fors murmured, lifting a brow. “If he
should forget himself…”
“Then you can help?” I asked, my pulse registering my excitement. “If
Eurus uses his powers as a god?”
Sud tilted her head again. “I wish we could bring this one home with
us. Such a darling little mortal.”
“What would you do with such a puny creature?” Fors shook his head
in disgust, turning his back on me, his outline starting to fade as he walked
away.
“I would teach her all the secrets of fire,” Sud replied, elbowing her
way in front of him.
“And then when you grow bored with her, I suppose you can put her in
the statue garden.”
Sud’s musical laughter swirled in the air, the dust motes in my cabin
catching fire and dancing before winking out.
“Wait!” I called, feeling empty with the loss of their presence. “I have
more questions!”
But their images had already disappeared, leaving only the scent of
ashes and evergreen. I saw no more until I woke the next morning.
 TWENTY

THE BAG OF COINS LANDED WITH A thwump on the scarred wooden table,
and the pirates’ raucous chatter tapered into silence. Two dozen pairs of
eyes turned toward us. Their hands reached for daggers or swords.
Despite the tavern’s humble facade of mismatched stones and
crumbling mortar, the spacious interior boasted high ceilings and thick oak
beams hung with three large iron chandeliers. Most of the candles had
burned down to nubs, their flickering glow leaving the corners in shadow.
Cheroot smoke floated in clouds, its earthy scent underlaid by the musk of
sweat.
The decor was a discrepant mix of sturdy furniture and extravagant
baubles. Between two grimy windows, a fluted glass vase brimmed with
peacock feathers. Beside it an enormous gilded tusk sat on end, as if an
animal were skewering the tavern from below. On one side of the bar, a
black lacquered chest with open drawers spilled silks in a colorful mess. On
the other side, a marble statue of a woman rose from a seashell cast in
bronze. The floor was covered in peanut shells and the remainder of spilled
drinks. A lean, sharp-eyed man and a serving maid with curly red hair
flitted between tables, their smiles generous, their steps quick, and their
trays laden with stoneware frothing with ale.
Liddy’s guards outside had recognized Kai and happily received his
bribes to let us pass. They stood, massive arms folded, on either side of the
door.
We moved closer to Liddy. Even if Kai hadn’t described her to me, I’d
have guessed her status by the sheer volume of gaudy jewelry adorning her
throat and wrists. She wore so many necklaces—pearl, gold, silver,
diamond—that I wondered how she could breathe.
As agreed beforehand, Kai took the lead. He’d warned me that he’d
need to tread carefully as he made amends for his late payment. My role
would come later.
 With a show of airy unconcern for the threatening glances of her
minions, he gestured to the large leather bag on the table, which had come
to rest just shy of a puddle of spilled ale.
“Well met, Liddy. I believe you’ll find that settles my debt.”
He was dressed like the prince he was, in brushed red velvet and white
lace, a gold hoop in one ear the only concession to his privateer days. He
checked his nails before tugging at his cuffs, adjusting each fold so the lace
fell perfectly, his demeanor relaxed. He was as at home here as he would be
in a palace.
Liddy assessed him from head to toe, her eyes making a meal out of
him from his aristocratic features to his shoulders, over his lean waist and
farther south, her attention lingering on what I preferred to assume was his
sword hilt.
Her lackeys waited for her verdict. She was surrounded by grizzled
men and women, all of them impossibly muscular and excessively armed.
Although four Fireblood masters and one Frost King were hidden in the
woods outside the tavern, it was still intimidating to stand alone, just Kai
and me, among two dozen or so snarling, belching cutthroats.
But Liddy, with her quiet, steely authority, was the most imposing. She
was beautiful, as Kai had said, but in a bolder way than I’d imagined. Her
full, pouty lips were painted red. Thick brows arched over heavily lashed
brown eyes that snapped with ruthless calculation. Her physique was large
boned and solid. I had the sense she could lift a sword and fell an enemy
right alongside her brutish companions. Her black satin gown showed more
than a hint of her large bosom, and long, tight sleeves ended in ruffles at her
wrists. Her dark hair fell over one shoulder in a pink-ribbon-festooned
braid, the color far too soft and whimsical for a woman of her merciless
reputation.
“You’re late,” she said in a rich, low-pitched voice, lifting a sooty
brow at him. Her plush lips held no hint of a smile. “You know how I feel
about late payments.”
Kai’s voice was even. “It’s all there, Liddy. Everything I owe. Count
it.”
She twitched her head to the left. The beefy paw of the man sitting
next to her came out to snatch up the leather coin purse, then he pushed
back his chair and stood, tromping his heavy-booted way toward the back
of the tavern, presumably where they counted the money.
“If you’ve tried to cheat me,” she warned, “you won’t walk out of here
alive.”
Tension—or was it anticipation?—spread like a ripple in a still pond,
encompassing all but the outermost edges of the tavern.
“You know I’d never try that with you, Liddy. We’re old friends.”
She made a huffing sound.
“Lovely gown,” Kai remarked, pouring on the charm. “A little muted
for you, though, isn’t it?”
“I’m in mourning,” she replied without a flicker of emotion. “My
husband.”
“Your fifth?”
“Sixth.” Her eyes conducted another thorough perusal of his person.
“You’ve been gone awhile.”
He bowed. “Glad I haven’t been forgotten.”
She took a sip of her bloodred wine, a suggestion of a smirk tilting the
edges of her moistened lips. “I’d never forget you, Prince Kai. You owe me
money.”
He cleared his throat. “Not anymore. That purse contains my final six
payments.”
There was no change to her expression, but her tone betrayed surprise.
“All of it?”
“I’ve had some good fortune of late.”
Her eyes narrowed, and her voice grew silky. “Do tell. No secrets
between friends, right, my prince?”
Kai stood a little straighter as he said, “The queen granted me a second
chance at the Fireblood trials. I passed.”
A few of the pirates murmured and one of them let out a low whistle.
Passing the trials earned admiration among Firebloods, whether you were a
courtier or a criminal.
“You got your island back?” Liddy asked, honing in on the
significance of this news.
“In title, yes. I haven’t had a chance to claim it in person. Soon, I hope.
There are other matters that I need to clear up first.”
 Just then, the hulking minion stomped back to the table, our leather
purse no longer in his possession. “All accounted for,” he said, taking a seat
and a loud gulp of ale.
Kai exhaled. “You see? We’re square.”
She snorted. “You think this means we’re square? You missed
payments. That demands a forfeit.” She looked him over as if he were a
horse she was thinking of buying. “When you first came to me, I saw
something in you. I cultivated you, lending you money for your first ship
because I figured I’d see a handsome return on my investment. And I have.”
Kai sketched a bow. “You honor me with your compliments. I hope
our profitable history will help you excuse the lateness of my payment.”
“I’ve never been the forgiving sort,” she said with heavy-lidded eyes.
“If I make an exception for you, everyone will start taking advantage. Isn’t
that right, lads and ladies?”
Her companions all shouted their agreement, offering her suggestions
on how to punish late payments. She held up her hand and they quieted.
She tilted her head to the side. “However, there is a way you can make
it up to me.”
“What is it?” Kai asked, his tone finally betraying a hint of nerves.
She made a motion to her black gown. “As I said, I’m without a
husband.” She grasped his hand and smoothed her thumb over his knuckles.
Kai froze like cornered prey.
I stepped around him into her line of vision, smiling broadly. “I’m
afraid Prince Kai has neglected to introduce us.”
Liddy’s red-tinted lips pressed together at the interruption, her gaze
still on Kai as she asked, “Who is this, your sister?”
He gave an awkward laugh and disengaged his hand from her grip,
reaching out to pull me forward.
“Allow me to introduce Princess Ruby Otrera, niece of Queen Nalani,
and heir to the Sudesian throne. My betrothed.”
To her credit, Liddy didn’t gasp or stare. She merely shot me an
intense look of scrutiny. I had dressed carefully for this meeting, glad for
the impulse that had made me pack the red gown I’d worn the day the
queen had announced my engagement to Kai, brief though it had been. My
hair was piled on my head, with a single inky ringlet flowing down over my
right shoulder.
 Liddy yanked her eyes back to Kai. “You’re not serious.”
“I am, indeed.” He lifted my hand to his lips for a kiss before resting it
on his forearm. “It was announced months ago.”
That much was true. A few months prior, we’d been engaged for a
matter of days, after the queen demanded our agreement during the final
stage of the Fireblood trials.
“The queen has approved the match,” I added, smiling up at Kai like a
lovesick ninny.
“Yes,” Kai said, injecting the word with a hint of regret. “She feels
most strongly about this alliance.”
“Hmm.” Liddy crossed her arms. The other pirates shifted restlessly,
picking up on her tension. It was time to drop the curtain on this bit of
theater. “Funny, I’d heard that a betrothal was announced, but your bride-to-
be ran off with the Frost King.”
I sucked in a breath, hoping it sounded more offended than worried.
“That’s not true.”
She looked between us. “My gut is telling me different, and my gut is
never wrong. You don’t act like lovers.”
Kai gave me an indulgent smile. “Ruby isn’t like my other…
sweethearts. She’s a princess. She’s innocent of the ways of the world.”
“No heat between you, though, is there?” Liddy said with growing
satisfaction. “Anyone can see that. An arranged marriage. Come now, my
prince, you don’t want this, do you? It’s not too late. I can help you, you
know.”
“I’m devoted to her.” He pulled me close to his side, curving a
possessive hand low on my hip.
“I feel the same.” I leaned into him, wishing we’d rehearsed more
beforehand.
Liddy waved her hand. “Prince Kai, you’ve dashed my hopes for a
union with your fine self. I don’t suppose you’d indulge me in one request.”
“Indulging you would be my honor.” But I felt him tense.
Liddy leaned back in her chair, her gaze flowing between us. “A kiss
would tell me all I need to know. Don’t you all agree?”
A rousing “Hurrah!” shook the rafters. The pirates stood and moved
closer for a better view.
 “We’d be delighted,” Kai said, eyes meeting mine. “Wouldn’t we,
Ruby?”
“Of course,” I said, forcing a smile.
As he took my shoulders, I caught a glimpse of movement out of the
corner of my eye. When I turned my head, my spine went rigid. One of the
windows was covered in an obscuring layer of frost, but a hazy silhouette
hovered on the other side.
I knew exactly who it was.
“What’s wrong?” Kai whispered in my ear, brushing his lips over my
cheek.
“On the lips!” the pirates protested.
I swallowed hard and whispered back, “Arcus is watching through the
window.”
“Make it a good one,” Liddy instructed, leaning back in her chair. “A
little peck on the cheek will not satisfy us, will it, lads and ladies?”
Wonderful. Just when Kai and I had settled the matter of our
friendship, now we had to convince a room full of rowdy onlookers that we
were on fire for each other. Arcus was still barely speaking to me after our
fight. This surely wouldn’t help matters. And to top it all off, the Minax was
waking, picking up the room’s vibes of nervousness, anticipation,
aggression, and threat.
A chorus of agreement and ribald comments followed. One of the
pirates exhaled, enveloping us in cheroot smoke. I cleared my throat to
ward off a fit of coughing.
“Well, in that case,” Kai said, lifting a brow to verify I was ready.
When I gave him a tiny nod, he bent me back over his arm.
A cheer went up from the crowd.
I felt the tension in Kai’s shoulders under my hands. His touch was
familiar, his technique flawless as his lips moved warmly over mine. In
completely different circumstances, I might have been able to enjoy it. But I
was so conscious of the pirates watching and the window to my left that I
could scarcely concentrate.
Kai was no novice and gave them everything they wanted, prolonging
the kiss as the pirates shouted advice and encouragement. I felt a flush
creep up my neck and into my cheeks.
Which drew more cheers.
 For good measure, I transferred my hands to his hair, pulling him
closer, trying to satisfy this demanding group of spectators.
When Kai finally straightened, I took a relieved breath. His bright
golden-red hair caught the candlelight as he ran a hand through it, mussing
it even more than I had. He smiled, a little out of breath as he received
winks and slaps to his shoulder. I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes.
“Does that satisfy you, my dear Liddy?” he asked, smiling.
She looked more resigned than satisfied. “I suppose it does. You want
to talk terms of putting your debt to rest, then?”
When he nodded agreement, I stole a glance at the window. It was
completely opaque, covered in frost. No, not frost. Ice, at least an inch
thick. The sunlight barely penetrated. As messages go, it was a pretty clear
one. The Frostblood who’d stood there a minute ago was not happy.
I let out a breath. I’d deal with that later.
Liddy ordered, “Get up, you laggards,” to the people at her table. They
moved off, giving us privacy. She waved at us to sit. Kai took a seat next to
her, and I took the spot next to him. In moments, the barmaid placed glasses
of red wine in front of us.
Liddy tapped her fingers on the table. “I won’t lie. I’m disappointed.
But I know when I’m beat. I’ll hear your other offer now.”
“Gold,” Kai said, producing a Tempesian coin from his pocket and
placing it on the table. “Heaps of it. All taken from the Frost King’s
treasury.”
She let out a hearty laugh, drawing curious stares. “You plundered the
king’s coffers? That’s quite a feat.”
He inclined his head to acknowledge the compliment. “I have enough
to compensate you for my lateness. And then some. If you’re willing.”
“What do you want in return?”
“We need information,” I said, watching her carefully. “The
whereabouts of a certain Lady Marella of the Frost Court.”
Her eyes went blank. “Don’t know anything about that.”
“Come on, Liddy,” Kai said softly, persuasively. “You have your
informants, and so do I. How much is she worth to you?”
“More than you’ve got. And keep your voices down. Forget you ever
heard of her, if you want to keep breathing.”
He stiffened. “Threats, Liddy? I thought we were past that.”
 “Not a threat. Friendly advice. You stay far away from that lady.”
She downed her wine and wiped her lips with the back of her hand,
preparing to stand.
“Wait,” I said, leaning toward her. “If you really mean to be friendly,
you have to tell us more. Are you saying you don’t have her?”
“I’m saying nothing at all.” Her eyes shifted around the room.
Kai glanced at me. Liddy was frightened. What would it take to scare
the pirate mercenary?
He turned back to her. “This is worth a lot of coin,” he said in a low
voice.
“Not to me,” she replied, her eyes hardening.
My breath hissed out. “You don’t understand. It’s far more dangerous
if we don’t find her.”
“I understand more than you think. She’s mixed up with fanatics who
worship the god of the east wind.”
Kai and I caught our breath.
“What do you know about that?” he asked.
Speaking quietly, she said, “I know I hate them. I didn’t take them
seriously at first, sailing around under black sails like a bunch of
jackanapes. Then they started to steal ships and cargo and crews and even
islands. People who fight back usually find themselves at the bottom of the
ocean. I told my captains if they see a black flag with a rising sun, they’re
to hightail it the other way.”
My mouth ran dry and blood was pounding in my ears. I’d seen that
symbol several times now—on a seal in the overseer’s office, on Lord
Blanding’s shoulder, and in my vision of Marella. I just hadn’t known what
it meant.
Now she was describing exactly what I’d seen in my dream, a fleet of
black-sailed ships flying Eurus’s flag. I’d thought it was a portent of the
future, but it was already happening.
“Did you have Lady Marella at some point?” I asked, remembering
that Kai had seen Liddy’s mark on the prison guard.
“I was hired to take her from one place to another, and one of my
crews did so,” Liddy said. “End of story.”
“Where did they take her?” Kai asked.
“You’d better pay me that coin you promised,” she warned.
 “We will,” I said. “Extra if you deliver her to us.”
“I told you, I don’t have her anymore.” She gritted her teeth and shook
her head. “Listen well because I won’t repeat myself. A man hired me to
ferry this young woman from one place to another. A Frostblood lady,
sickly young thing. In a bad way, but with more than a bit of fight to her.”
I nodded. Sounded like Marella. “Who hired you?”
“He didn’t give me a name, but one of my crewmen who comes from
Sere said the man looked just like Prince Eiko of Sudesia.”
Kai let out a shuddering breath. “Very tall? Black hair? Green eyes?”
“Yes. Something chilling about him, though. Not right.”
If only she knew. It was Eurus himself, possessing the body of Prince
Eiko, the Fire Queen’s consort.
“Where did you take the lady?” Kai asked again.
“The man said she was more trouble than she was worth and he didn’t
want her underfoot anymore. At first I assumed this lady was his lover and
he’d grown tired of her when she got sick, but I don’t know. She didn’t
seem like she wanted anything to do with him. He wanted me to lock her
up, said he had a use for her but she had to be kept somewhere secure. I told
him I had an island to the north where she could sit tight for a while.” She
leaned in. “So, my captain takes her there and puts her in a cell, as
requested.” She tapped the side of her nose. “But I can scent an opportunity
a mile away. This girl is worth something in ransom. So I sent word to the
Frost Court with my demands.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think your message ever arrived. Her father
was out of his mind with worry.” Arcus had promised Lord Ustathius that
we’d do our best to get her back.
“That’s right,” Liddy said with an angry jab at the table, though she
didn’t raise her voice above a whisper. “Because that miscreant, Prince
Eiko, boarded and stole my messenger ship. And then he stole my island!
He came with his fleet and attacked, pressing my men and women into his
service, killing the ones who refused. My crews, my ships, my land!” She
made a visible effort to calm down. “He’s a menace to honest
businesswomen like myself.”
“How many ships does he have?” I asked.
She shrugged. “A score? Could be more by now. They operate north of
here. That’s why they take mostly Frostblood ships. They need the
reinforced hulls.”
“Have you ever heard of the Isle of Night?” I asked, taking a chance.
She laughed throatily. “Everyone in these parts has heard of it. Doesn’t
exist or I’d know where it is.”
I sighed. It would have made our task so much easier had she known
its location.
“There’s a book that says different,” Kai said, finishing his wine.
She chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re a dreamer, Prince Kai. A
dreamer chasing rainbows. Always were.”
“I might be.” Kai pushed to his feet and took her hand. I stood and,
without planning to, found myself curtsying as if she were a queen and not
a leader of thieves and raiders. She inclined her head with a smirk.
After they made arrangements to exchange payment for a map of the
island where Marella was imprisoned, Kai brushed his lips over Liddy’s
hand. She didn’t bother to stand, but patted his cheek with beringed fingers.
He straightened. “Always a pleasure, Liddy.”
Her eyes were fond as they looked him over. “Be careful, my prince. I
don’t like to think of anything happening to that pretty face.”
He gave her the full dose of his charming grin. “Me neither.”
She grimaced. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
 TWENTY-ONE

MY CABIN DOOR SHUT WITH A SNAP.

I spun around, heart thumping, holding my shirt to my chest, ready to
blast whoever had barged in when I was only half-dressed.
“Oh, it’s you.” Now my pulse leaped for a different reason. We hadn’t
had a moment alone since the unfortunate incident in Liddy’s tavern. Once
our little group had returned to the ship, I’d come straight to my cabin to
change out of my princess gear into a black tunic and leggings. We’d
already set sail. The island where Marella was being held was only a few
hours north, so we would arrive shortly after nightfall.
Arcus said nothing, just stood there, eyes hooded, his face an
unreadable mask.
I took a breath, not encouraged by his harsh expression. I was half
tempted to drop my shirt. That might shock some warmth into his impassive
features. But it didn’t seem like the time.
“Turn around,” I told him.
He turned to face the door. I whipped the shirt on, pulling my hair
from the collar and letting it tumble down my back. I could still feel
leftover pins from my elaborate hairstyle cutting into my scalp. I started to
remove them as I said, “All right.”
He turned to face me again. Silent. His lips tightened, and something
flickered in his eyes. I waited.
Finally, I couldn’t stand it. “If your plan is to stare me into begging for
forgiveness, I’d like to remind you that I can be just as stubborn as you.”
“That’s all you have to say?” His voice and face were unyielding.
“No. Not if you’re speaking to me. If you’re just planning to stare
daggers, then yes. That’s all I have to say.”
His lips twisted. “What the blazes was that display in the tavern?”
“Necessity?”
“You knew I was watching through the window. You saw me.”
“Yes, I did.”
 “Did that enhance the experience for you?” I didn’t appreciate the
sneer in his tone.
“No, it did not.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
I shrugged. “Because you’re jealous and it’s making you
unreasonable?”
“Jealous? Jealous doesn’t do this feeling justice. Try furious.”
My muscles tightened, readying for flight. I wasn’t scared, but I
certainly wouldn’t mind running from this conversation. “At me?”
“At…” He jerked a hand through the air. “Circumstances… if I’m
forced to be rational. But partly you.”
“What part is me?”
He leaned against the door, crossing his arms. After a long exhalation,
he said in a more even tone, “Please explain what happened. I couldn’t hear
most of what you were saying.”
“Kai had to convince his moneylender friend that he was betrothed to
me. Otherwise, he was going to end up married to her or dead. She insisted
on a kiss to prove that he wanted the marriage. We did our best to be…
convincing.”
“I could almost feel sorry for this pirate woman. The look on her face
as she watched you…” He took a breath. “I knew how she felt.”
That made me feel worse, both for him and for her. I hadn’t thought
she’d had any real feelings for Kai. Maybe I was wrong. Still, it wasn’t her I
was concerned about.
“I’m very sorry you had to see that.” I hoped he could hear that I
meant every word. “It was one of the most awkward things I’ve ever had to
do, if that helps at all. We both just wanted it over with.”
“That’s not how it looked!”
I spread my hands. “Kai is an excellent performer.”
His nostrils flared. “Do you know how hard it was not to smash my
way through that window? I wanted to rip him away from you and…” His
fists clenched and unclenched. He cleared his throat, his jaw hard. “It’s
probably best I steer clear of the prince for a while.”
“He’s probably thinking the same thing.”
“Did he know I was watching?”
“Er… yes. I told him.”
 His eyes narrowed. “That explains why I had a perfect angle for every
excruciating moment!”
I winced. I wouldn’t put it past Kai to enjoy torturing the Frost King
when he had the chance. Especially after their altercation in the arena.
“I’m sure he’s…” I almost said sorry but it was too far from the truth.
He probably wasn’t sorry at all. So I just shrugged. “Kai is Kai. I can’t
control him.”
He uncrossed his arms, taking a step closer. “This whole situation is
driving me mad. I don’t know how to deal with it.”
“You think any of us does?”
“No. Do you think that makes it easier for me? I can’t even touch you
without risking—”
My lips flattened. “What? That I’ll turn into a raging lust beast?”
He gave me an admonishing look. “Please, stop. This is difficult
enough.”
Suddenly, I was hurt all over again. “Stop what? Talking? Fine. I’m
done.”
He opened his hands. “So that’s it? We just… don’t talk to each other?
Avoid each other?”
“You’re the one who leaped away from me as if you’d been burned.
You’re the one who told me you saw a side of me—”
“I know what I said. And you threatened me that you could turn to
someone else if I pushed you away. Have you forgotten that?”
“I can’t believe you’d bring that up now! You know the Minax pushed
me to say things I didn’t really mean!”
My throat closed. Needing space, I sat on the bed, resting my chin on
my bent knees. “Please don’t hurt me by repeating those things. Just don’t.”
I shut my eyes.
A few seconds passed. I felt a light touch on my shoulder and smacked
his hand away. “Don’t touch me! I’m dangerous, remember?”
I heard him move, and then his cold breaths fell on the side of my face,
as if he was kneeling next to the bed. I refused to look. I couldn’t bear to
see his eyes condemn me all over again.
“Ruby, we both said things we didn’t—”
Just then, freezing air rushed into the room as the cabin door whooshed
open and slammed shut. My head jerked up in surprise.
 Brother Thistle stood against the door, frost coating it in overlapping
waves.
“I have something to tell you both.” He cleared his throat, lifting his
chin and meeting my eyes. “I have put this off too long.”
The cabin felt too small to contain the emotion coming off Brother
Thistle in blasts of cold and layers of frost, so we moved to the mess, a long
room filled with scarred wooden tables. He sat in a chair at the end of a
table. Arcus and I sat on benches on either side. The light from a single
porthole window cast a glowing circle across the polished oak.
“I grew worried when I saw the symbol of Eurus again after so many
years.” He clutched his hands together on the table, the veins pulsing blue.
“Prince Kai just told me what you’d learned from the pirate mercenary, and
I knew I could keep silent no longer.”
I resisted the urge to cover his hand with mine. The sizzle of my
nervous heat meeting his fearful cold would be anything but calming.
“The symbol of Eurus?” I prompted, though I knew.
“A rising sun. You saw it on Marella, in your vision, and I saw it on
Lord Blanding’s shoulder.”
I nodded. “I also saw it in Brother Lack’s office in Tevros. And in
another vision, I saw ships flying that flag.” The Minax stirred, perking up
with satisfaction. I mentally pushed it away.
Arcus looked at me intently, and I wondered if he realized I was
referring to the dream that was so terrible I wouldn’t share it with him that
night in his chamber. I kept my eyes on Brother Thistle.
He closed his eyes. “Far too many signs to ignore, and yet I tried. I
tried to deny it. I was not prepared to face the truth. The Servants have
assembled.”
“Who are these Servants?” Arcus asked.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Lifting a hand, he tugged down the
collar of his monk’s robe on one side, revealing his upper back near his
right shoulder. A symbol had been marked in raised flesh that was paler
than the skin around it: a semicircle with lines coming from the curve.
My body went rigid, my pulse picking up speed. The Minax reacted to
my shock with delight, soaking up the discord. My hand flew to my chest,
as if I could press it into submission. “That’s the mark of Eurus,” I
whispered.
 Arcus reared back. “Why would you have that?”
The monk’s bushy brows drew together. “I’ve spent decades trying to
atone for getting this mark.”
“Decades,” Arcus said softly, his brow furrowing.
“It was a time of hunger and desperation,” Brother Thistle said, his
eyes pleading at us to understand. “My mother and I had just returned to
Tempesia and discovered that our noble relatives had disowned us because
of her marriage to a commoner from Sudesia.” He waved a hand. “We had
no money and few prospects.”
There was a tremor in his hands as he spoke.
“What did you do?” I asked, trying not to pass judgment until I’d
heard the whole story.
“A group called the Servants of Eurus was recruiting among the
poorest of the poor. Their ideals seemed laudable on the surface: a secret
collective of like-minded souls promoting purity of mind and body. They
didn’t care if you were a Frostblood or Fireblood. You merely had to pledge
allegiance to the god of the east wind. They even took care of my mother
when I was sent to the border war with Safra.”
He turned to Arcus, who listened impassively, his face giving nothing
away. “That was under your grandfather’s rule. I fought with the knowledge
that I had a greater purpose than just risking my life to widen our borders.
The grand master of the order said the god had plans for me and would
protect me. I thought Eurus gave me strength to win every battle because he
saw my faithfulness.”
I made a sound of disgust, and his eyes flew to mine, chagrined. I
shook my head. “Go on.”
He swallowed. “When I was injured and discharged, I saw it as a sign
that I was supposed to dedicate myself fully to the Servants. I returned to
the capital, where the order had begun installing their members in the Frost
Court. They said they needed people in power to effect change. Since I had
noble blood, I was a logical candidate. They helped me gain a place in King
Akur’s court as an advisor.”
Arcus said, voice expressionless, “They helped you become my
father’s chief advisor.”
Brother Thistle grimaced. “Yes. Eventually, it was clear the motives of
the Servants weren’t merely idealistic but political, which I might have
supported if their ideals had matched their actions. In my mind, the purity
they sought meant helping those less fortunate.”
When he paused, I said, “And clearly that wasn’t true.”
“Increasing their power had become their primary motive. They began
using the Frost Court’s hatred of Firebloods to recruit followers in high
places. Some of King Akur’s most favored generals were members of the
Servants. Those generals encouraged war and called peace weakness. They
hated Firebloods and made no secret of it. That’s when I lost faith in the
order.”
“You grew up with Firebloods in Sudesia,” I pointed out. “You knew
what they said about us wasn’t true.” I was comforting myself more than
him, reassuring myself I knew him in some small way. Because just then, I
felt as if I’d never known him at all.
A cool hand covered mine on the table. My eyes shot to Arcus, who
met my gaze steadily. I flipped my palm up to meet his, giving and
receiving comfort.
“My order was ultimately responsible for the attack on Firebloods in
Tempesia,” Brother Thistle said in an agonized voice. “The realization
tormented me, that I had contributed to this atrocity. I protested.” He looked
between me and Arcus as if seeking some measure of forgiveness.
“Emphatically.” He shook his head. “No one wanted to listen. King Akur
said Tempesia would enjoy a grand future, greater than it had ever been in
the past.”
Arcus’s jaw worked. “Sounds like my father.”
Brother Thistle gave him a regretful look. “I do not think it was
entirely his fault. Around the same time, I found The Creation of the
Thrones, which made me realize that Eurus himself had cursed the thrones
with the Minax to brew hatred and discord.”
“That’s when you told Lord Ustathius about the book and the curse,” I
added.
“Yes, and he did not believe me, which made me realize that no one
else would, either. But I continued to argue with the king over his treatment
of Firebloods. The generals who were members of the Servants saw me as a
threat to their plans for war. They made sure I lost my position as advisor to
the king. After I was gone, there was no one to stop them from taking
further liberties with the southern provinces: revoking rights and demanding
higher taxes, which led to the southern rebellion, and eventually to the
death of many, including your mother, the queen.”
Arcus nodded and looked away.
“The Servants of Eurus were to blame. And I was part of them.”
Brother Thistle stared at Arcus, radiating regret, but Arcus wouldn’t meet
his eyes.
“But not after that, surely,” I said. “When you left the court, you
pledged yourself to the Order of Fors, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” He lifted both hands, showing the ice crystals on his fingertips.
“I longed to atone, so I devoted myself to Fors and to a neglected mountain
monastery. I spent years amassing knowledge, acquiring books, searching
for more information on Eurus’s curse. However, it wasn’t until years later
when an injured young man showed up on my doorstep that I knew my true
purpose: to wipe out the throne’s curse so that it could no longer corrupt the
future rulers of Tempesia.”
The conversation fell into silence, a turbulent river of tension flowing
between Arcus and Brother Thistle. The monk had saved Arcus when he
appeared at the abbey, badly burned, but it wasn’t the time for grateful
reminiscence. However sorry Brother Thistle was for his past, Arcus was
clearly not ready to forgive him.
“But what happened to the Servants of Eurus?” I asked, impatient with
the standoff.
“The sects lost members during the war as people were conscripted,
displaced, or never came home from battlefields. The Servants seemed to
fade away. I thought the group died with King Akur.”
“Was my father a member?” Arcus asked sharply.
“Not that I know of. I merely meant that his generation embraced the
Servants, but following generations did not as far as I knew. I convinced
myself they were gone.”
I gestured to his shoulder. “But Lord Blanding bears the mark.”
“Yes, and I wanted to know why. He wasn’t a member back when I
was, as far as I knew. I went to his cell after the council meeting, to
question him. He denied my claim at first, but with persuasion, the truth
came out. The Servants did not disappear, they merely merged with and
eventually took over a group dedicated to national pride and restoration of a
false history of Frostblood glory.”
 “The Blue Legion,” Arcus murmured.
“But if this is true,” I said, “then we have no idea how far it reaches. It
might extend across the kingdom. Into other kingdoms. If the Servants have
been active without your knowledge for so many years, even as they
infiltrated Frostblood nobility under another name…”
“We have no way of knowing how far this has spread,” Brother Thistle
confirmed. “But there is hope. Without the Minax, the Servants of Eurus
will have far less power to do harm.”
“Then we’ll make sure the Minax are imprisoned forever,” I said. I
waited for Brother Thistle’s eyes to meet my own, then spoke. “I
understand why you did what you did. You’ve made up for it with a lifetime
of service, including saving my life. And now I will do whatever it takes to
stop Eurus from opening the Gate.” Even if that means my life. “I’ve seen
the future in my visions, and it’s far worse than any of the atrocities of the
past.”
“If you’ll excuse me, I have some things to take care of,” Arcus said,
standing. He seemed distracted. “We’ll be at the prison island in a few
hours, and I still need to plan.”
“We need to plan,” I corrected. “Kai as well. We all have parts to play.”
His eyes grew hooded. “Very well.”
When Arcus left without another word, Brother Thistle looked
downcast. I put my hand over his and said, “Don’t worry. He’ll come
around.”
He rubbed his eyes tiredly with the thumb and forefinger of one hand.
“Thank you, Miss Otrera, but the only worry you should have right now is
finding the Isle of Night. I am just glad you both know everything now. The
secret weighed on me.”
I murmured words of reassurance, but the truth was that after hearing
his confession, I was even less inclined to trust anyone but myself—a
feeling the Minax encouraged with dark whispers.
 TWENTY-TWO

WE REACHED THE ISLAND WELL after sunset, the sky a dark blue velvet
set with a pearlescent moon.
The stone keep was perched atop a soaring promontory, its outer edges
bristling with towers. On one side, the cliff curved to form a bay where
ships bobbed at anchor. On the other, scrubby evergreens crowded a slice of
beach.
We pointed the prow of our small boat at that narrow strip of land,
Arcus and a Fireblood master working the oars against churning waves.
Another Fireblood master completed our cozy crew of four, a small group
for a clandestine operation. If everything went smoothly, we’d slip in
unseen and pluck Marella from under the Servants’ noses.
On the island, torches moved to and fro as patrols carried out their
nighttime watch. The cliffs seemed to grow taller as we drew near.
I craned my neck to look up at the towers so far above. Shadows
nestled in the spaces where stonework had broken loose and fallen into the
sea.
“We can do it,” Arcus whispered, his hand resting on my upper back. I
leaned into his touch.
Kai’s ship, and the other three ships accompanying us, waited around a
bend on the far side of the island where the cliff was highest. Unless
someone looked down from directly overhead, our force would stay hidden.
All the lanterns had been doused, every crew member silent.
But if I gave the signal, the ships would attack the harbor as a
distraction.
After a few minutes, our rowboat scraped bottom. I slipped into the
freezing shallows and grabbed the bow to help pull the vessel from the
water. One of the masters inhaled as his feet sank into the frigid water, the
sound blending with the lapping waves. We spent a few minutes gathering
leafy branches from under the trees and dragging them back to partially
cover the boat in case the night watch came this way.
 We didn’t speak as we each tied a section of a long length of rope
around our waists and put on leather gloves with sharp pieces of metal sewn
into the palms to help us grasp the ice that Arcus would create to make
handholds.
“Careful,” Arcus whispered.
“You too,” I replied.
Seva, one of the Fireblood masters, went first, as she had the most
climbing experience. Finding handholds in the rock, she hauled herself up.
Arcus followed.
I used the same holds to pull myself up, inch by inch. Some sections
offered multiple indentations to grab on to, and sometimes it took Seva a
minute or two to find the next handhold.
My fingers ached, my toes bent painfully to dig into the small ledges.
A breeze stirred tendrils of hair from my tight braid.
About halfway up, Seva stopped.
“No handholds,” she said in Sudesian.
I translated to Arcus, then held my breath, my eyes fixed on his dark
outline above.
The hiss of frost turned into the crackle of ice as it met rock. It clung to
the cliff face, forming into a nicely shaped ledge.
We had discussed the idea of the masters and I creating our own
handholds by heating and molding the rock, but even among the masters, it
was rare to have a gift that strong, and the effort would probably leave us
too weak to climb.
“It holds,” Seva confirmed, “but I need another.”
Our progress slowed as we had to repeat the process. After a while, my
arms and legs shook. Despite the cold, I was drenched in sweat.
“Ruby,” Arcus whispered urgently. “Keep moving.”
“Where’s the next handhold?”
“Left hand. Six inches up, two inches left.”
My fingers stretched, grabbed… then slipped. I panted, eyes wide. Ice
appeared a few inches above me. A series of handholds. I hauled myself up
until cold fingers closed over my wrist and dragged me to the top in a single
heave.
“I’ve got you,” Arcus said, pulling me into an embrace. His heart raced
against my cheek. Unable to speak, I leaned against him for a few seconds.
 Dima, the other Fireblood master, reached the top. Meanwhile, Arcus
secured a grappling hook, making sure it was in place for our escape. We
untied the rope from around our waists and crept toward the keep.
A torch came into view near the tower and moved in our direction.
We crouched behind fallen stones from the crumbling towers. When
the guard was a few feet away, Arcus sent a gust of frost at the torch,
dousing it with a hiss.
The guard swore as he was plunged into darkness.
Swift and silent, I crept up behind, rock in hand, and bashed him over
the head. He crumpled. Kill! urged the Minax. Finish him!
Arcus’s smile caught the moonlight as he joined me. “Well done.”
Relieved that Arcus had brought me back to myself, I took a second to
check the guard’s pulse. Faint, but steady. Good. I didn’t want to kill
anyone unless I had no other choice.
As we moved forward, the base of the closest tower rose out of the
dark, the opening we needed covered by a hidden door—the entrance Liddy
had assured us wouldn’t be guarded.
“Borna!” a guard shouted from somewhere overhead. “Where are you?
Check in!”
“Hurry,” I whispered, moving my hands over the stones in a frantic
search.
“Got it.” There was a click and Arcus heaved open the hidden door.
We flowed like whispers into the passage under the keep. Thanks to
Liddy’s map, it wasn’t long before the twisting paths brought us to another
hidden door leading to the cells. I recognized the fetid stench before Arcus
even had the door open. It smelled like my worst memories of Blackcreek
Prison.
Recognition hit me so hard, I had to put a hand to the wall to stay
upright. Sensing waves of despair, the Minax stirred.
I forced myself to keep going.
The dungeon was empty. No guards in sight.
Motioning Arcus and the two masters to follow, I led them to the cell I
remembered from my vision.
Dim light from a barred window fell on what appeared to be a pile of
rags.
 “Marella?” I whispered, searching for movement, hoping she was still
alive.
“Who is it?” she snapped, her voice hoarse.
Arcus said softly, “Marella? It’s me.”
The way he said it reminded me that they’d essentially grown up
together. At one time, she’d been his betrothed. She would know his voice
anywhere.
A sob came from the shadows, then shuffling sounds. A face appeared
in the dark. If I hadn’t known who she was, I wouldn’t have recognized her.
Her eyes appeared huge in her gaunt face. Her hair was too dirt-streaked to
see the sunny, wheat-gold color.
Her fingers wrapped around the bars. “It’s really you.”
“We’ll get you out,” I promised, lighting a flame in my palm.
Arcus touched the lock. Frost formed in the keyhole, just as it had in
Blackcreek Prison when Brother Thistle unlocked my cell. The ice grated
against metal. There was a clicking sound, but the lock didn’t yield. Arcus
made a frustrated sound in his throat and tried again.
“Well, if it were easy,” I pointed out, “Marella could have unlocked it
already.” Although I knew from my own experience in prison that her gift
would be weakened by hunger.
“I practiced this, dammit,” Arcus muttered when the lock didn’t open
for the third time. Brother Thistle had made lock-picking look so easy, but
he’d warned us that every lock was different, some easier than others.
Time for our contingency plan. I nudged him out of the way.
“Stand back and cover your face,” I told Marella, then grasped the
bars. Focusing with complete concentration, I poured heat into the metal.
The bars grew warm, then hot. They glowed orange. One of the Fireblood
masters murmured words of admiration, reminding me that not everyone
could do this.
Drained, I leaned against the wall, my energy spent. The masters and I
turned away as Arcus grabbed the bars with ice-covered hands and yanked.
The bars groaned, then broke with an explosion of sound.
“Is everyone all right?” he asked, already reaching in for Marella. She
squeezed between the broken bars and fell into his arms. He lifted her,
cradling her against his chest, then looked at me.
We all nodded that we were fine.
 “My cellmate,” Marella said, turning her head. “You have to bring her
with us.”
“We came for you,” Arcus said sternly. “We can’t rescue everyone.”
“She’s an old woman. She kept me alive. Please.”
As a figure came into view in the cell, the floor shifted under my feet.
Shadows cloaked her, but I squinted as if I were staring at a bright
light.
The Minax slammed into awareness. Danger!
My head spun. It felt as if I were slipping and falling, losing my grip
the way I had on the cliff. I squeezed my eyes shut and bit my lip to keep
from crying out.
“Leave her!” I tried to shout, but it emerged as a whisper. The Minax
writhed, twisting in my chest to the point of pain.
Everyone’s attention was on the prisoner as she stepped from the cell,
her face hidden by the fall of her matted white hair.
The Minax quivered. Dangerous!
I opened my mouth to warn Arcus, but he was already speaking.
“Marella says you saved her life.” I knew by his tone that he’d decided to
bring her along even before he added, “We won’t leave you behind.”
“Thank you,” she said with more than a hint of relief. As she wobbled
unsteadily, the Fireblood master Dima swung her into his arms.
I wanted to rage and scream that we were making a mistake, but Arcus
was already striding ahead, retracing our steps to the passage. I followed
swiftly, trying to bring myself under control. We could deal with this once
we were safely out.
But as we reached the entrance to the twisting tunnels, a massive man
stepped out of the shadows, his pale eyes glittering.
He spoke in a deep baritone as he raised a spiked club. “Eurus will
reward me for my service.”
 TWENTY-THREE

“TO ME!” THE GUARD THUNDERED. “I have them!”

Answering shouts and a veritable stampede of booted feet filled the
passage behind him. Mentally, I cursed in two languages. So much for
getting in and out without being noticed.
The giant surged toward us, swinging the club in a whistling arc.
Seva and I threw up a wall of flame to block his advance.
Unfortunately, that also cut off our escape.
A series of shouts came from behind the fire. “Don’t let them escape!”
and “Eurus will reward us!”
“They must have found the unconscious guard,” I muttered, angry at
myself for not bothering to hide him.
“We have to find another way out,” the old woman said at my side.
I whipped around, my lips drawing back from my teeth. I had to resist
the urge to hiss at her like a feral cat. Something about her made me feel
deeply unsettled. I turned away, searching the dim corridor. We’d planned
for this possibility, studied all the routes on the map, but my thoughts were
scrambled by the shouts, the chaos, and my own reaction to the unexpected
prisoner.
Marella pointed toward a hall with more cells. “That’s the direction the
guards come from.”
Since Arcus and Dima both had their arms full, I took the lead. Seva
brought up the rear.
Two guards burst into the dungeon before we reached the stairs,
followed by two more. Fire erupted from my hands, forcing them into one
of the cells. Their screams pierced my ears as they batted at their clothing,
trying to put out the flames. Arcus slammed the cell door with frost and
locked it with a coating of ice.
We rushed up the stairs. Two archers stood at the top, pulling back the
strings of their bows, releasing arrows. Fire devoured the shafts before they
could reach us, the metal arrowheads hitting the stone ceiling.
 I poured out flame, forcing the archers back. Hearing their screams.
Advancing step by step. I kept up the fire, driving back guards, not letting
myself care who might be hurt. I couldn’t afford the luxury of checking
pulses now. It was us or them.
“Turn right!” Arcus shouted, remembering the map. I did, using fire to
clear the path, letting Seva keep the guards from following. Arcus shouted
directions and I followed, panting, stumbling, weakening as we finally
found a door leading outside.
We burst from the opening. At least two dozen archers had their
arrows trained on us.
“Ruby, get down!” Arcus shouted.
No time. With a final, desperate surge of power, I lifted my arms,
encasing us in a bubble of flame. Seva raised her hands and added her gift
to mine. A few arrows made it through, but their trajectory was ruined.
They fell harmlessly.
The sky was on fire. I kept my arms up, dizziness softening my knees.
Arcus’s back against mine kept me upright.
“To the cliff!” he ordered, nudging me in the right direction.
Seva covered our backs as we ran. I was out of fire.
The seconds passed in a haze. Somehow, we made it to the cliff. Arcus
put Marella down for a moment and created a wall of ice to block the
guards from the cliff edge.
The plan had been that if we ran into trouble, we’d signal Kai with
fire. Apparently our fight with the guards had sent him the message that we
needed help. Blinding flashes lit the harbor as a firefight raged below. Our
ships were spread out, trying to draw the enemy vessels out of the harbor.
The Servants used bows and small catapults to launch burning arrows and
missiles—probably oil-soaked rags—toward our ships. Our forces returned
fire.
We had the advantage of Frostblood sailors on each ship. Some of the
Servants’ ships clearly didn’t. One was fully engulfed from sails to decks,
the air rippling with heat. Hit broadside by waves, it swayed side to side as
sailors jumped overboard, like a mongrel shaking off fleas.
But new ships were arriving, closing in on ours from the open sea.
I took this in at a glance, then remembered to check the beach where
our small boat waited.
 Vaguely, I heard Arcus ask the old woman her name.
“Lucina,” she answered.
The sound of her voice made the hair rise on the back of my neck.
Torches emerged from the trees onto the beach. As they moved toward
the water, their light illuminated the branches we’d used to cover our boat,
shouts echoed, and more torches appeared.
“New plan,” I said, moving away from the edge. “As in, we need one.
We can’t go that way.”
Lucina said, “There are steps that lead from the keep to the island road.
That’s how I was brought here.”
“We’ll never make it there!” I snapped.
“If only I had some daylight to work with,” she said, almost to herself.
“What good would that do?” She’s holding us back. Leave her here.
Arcus strode back to the cliff, then grabbed the rope and started to
draw it up. I rushed to help him as Dima and Seva continued covering our
backs.
When we’d pulled the last of it up, he pointed a few feet away to
where the farthest edge of the cliff jutted out over the sea. “We’ll throw it
down over there.”
Peering over the edge, I watched as waves crashed into the point of the
arrowhead-shaped slab of rock, the spray flying so high, I imagined I could
feel it. Anyone who dropped into that spot would be snatched by the waves
and dashed against the cliff. There were probably also rocks beneath the
water that could break our bones into kindling.
I looked back at him in horror. “Have you lost your mind?”
He didn’t reply, and hauled the rope to where he’d pointed. After
casting it over the cliff, he stepped close. “I would go first, but I have to
carry Marella, so it’s going to be more awkward for me. I’ll go last.”
“Maybe someone else should carry her,” I said, not liking the idea of
him going last.
“She’s a Frostblood, but she’s weak. I don’t know if it’ll hurt her to be
carried by a Fireblood right now. You go first. Then Lucina with Dima, then
Seva, then Marella and me. Be safe.”
“Safe?” I threw a hand out to indicate the white spray below. “You
mean safely drowned?”
 His lips curved up at the edges, but his eyes were serious. “Don’t you
trust me by now?”
Testing my faith in him now of all times! But it was impossible to
argue with his calm tone. Shouts and screams filled the air and searing
flashes lit the night as the sea battle continued below. We didn’t know how
long our ships could hold the Servants off.
There was no time for doubt.
With a last glance at Arcus, I grabbed the rope and started to rappel
down.
The wind had picked up, and there was no protection in this exposed
spot. I focused on gripping the rope, pushing off with my feet, descending
in measured lengths. Above me, Dima and Lucina followed.
Salt spray soaked my legs first, and then the rest of me. It made the
rope as slick as if it were greased. I slid faster toward the waves. In a few
seconds, the sea would open its hungry mouth and devour me.
As I struggled not to panic, a crackling noise came from below. The
cold spray no longer soaked me. I looked down. The area below was
turning to icy slush, then freezing solid, the curving shape of a frozen wave
leaning against the cliff.
So this was his plan.
I squeezed the rope in my fists, slowing my descent. My palms burned.
If the rope weren’t so wet, I would worry about setting it on fire.
I had a moment to brace myself and then my feet met the beginning of
the icy curve. As I reached the end of the rope, I let go.
My back met the frozen wave. I curled up to protect my face and head.
As the curve bottomed out, I was tossed skyward, then landed with a teeth-
rattling jolt, my breath knocked out of me. I slid along the smooth surface at
a breakneck pace. A moment of terror made my chest seize as I anticipated
flying off into the dark, churning waves.
Instead, I slid up onto a curve and back down. The sides were raised
and rounded, almost like a tunnel. If I’d had any breath in my lungs, I
would have laughed at Arcus’s cleverness. I was already slowing when I
spotted the hull of our ship ahead. The ice continued for about five more
yards, ending where a ladder hung down.
My old friend Jaro, the sailor who helped teach me Sudesian when I
was first on Kai’s ship, leaned over the edge. “Grab the ladder!”
 Scrambling with hands and legs, I managed to stop a few feet away. A
second later, Lucina slid to a stop on her knees. It would have been kind to
offer to help her up, but I didn’t want to. I was afraid to touch her, though I
didn’t know why.
It was a relief when Dima slid into view next, quickly finding his feet
and helping Lucina up. Seva followed, and I waited for another face to
appear.
No sign of Arcus.
I glanced up. A figure stood at the edge of the cliff, illuminated by
flashes of fire in the harbor below.
My hands balled into fists. Hurry! I screamed in my mind.
He disappeared over the edge, his dark clothing blending with the cliff.
I climbed the ship’s ladder.
As soon as my feet touched the deck, I ran to the stern for a clear view,
willing him to appear.
A stream of fire came from water near the island’s stretch of beach.
Our small boat was now filled with four or five silhouettes coming after us.
They directed another streak of flame at the ice Arcus had created for our
escape. The smooth blue-white surface started to break into chunks. Waves
took and scattered them.
Had the waves taken him, too? The Minax fed on my surge of
agonized fear.
The streams of fire coming from the small boat grew weaker and then
stopped. Still, the sea kept eating away at the ice.
It was a breathless, frightening minute before Arcus’s tall figure
appeared at the end of his ice slide, Marella in his arms. At the ladder, he
slung her over his shoulder like a bag of grain and climbed up. I heard him
grunt, as if each rung pained him.
I rushed over. When he finally reached the top, he handed Marella to
Jaro and fell to his knees.
My arms were around him in a moment. “Arcus? Are you all right?”
He groaned, then slumped forward, his weight against me.
Alarm made my voice sharp. His body had gone slack. “Help me!”
Two sailors came to either side, lowering him gently to the deck on his
back.
 Dimly, I heard Kai barking orders. Sails snapped, ropes creaked, and
the ship jumped forward, skimming the waves as we fled to open sea. I
didn’t know if any of Eurus’s ships were following, but right now I didn’t
care.
Willing Arcus to open his eyes, I pressed my hands to his cold cheeks,
then two fingers to the side of his throat.
“He’s alive,” I said shakily.
“That must have been an extraordinarily draining use of his gift,”
Brother Thistle said behind me. He was looking at Arcus in awe, then
turned to me, his expression softening with understanding at the fear that I
knew must show in my expression. “He merely needs rest.”
I closed my eyes and said a prayer of thanks. The alternative was
unthinkable.

At the sound of a knock, I rubbed my eyes and sat up in the

uncomfortable wooden chair, wincing at the ache in my back after hours
spent at Arcus’s bedside. “Come in.”
Kai entered, his hair and the shoulders of his black velvet jacket dusted
with snow.
“He hasn’t woken,” I reported, then realized Kai might not be coming
to check on Arcus, but to tell me something. “Are we being followed?”
“No, no. Don’t worry. I’m just checking on you… on you both. Do
you need anything?”
“Like I said, he’s asleep.” More accurately, he was unconscious, but I
didn’t want to see it that way. It was easier to think of him in a deep
slumber than passed out cold.
“What part of both did you not understand? Do you need anything,
Ruby? Food? Something to drink? Perhaps some rest so you don’t end up
passed out next to him?”
“I don’t want any of those things, no.” Before I could add a thank-you,
he continued.
“So you plan to pass out next to him.”
“If need be.”
 He sighed. “I can’t believe I am going to offer this, but I will watch
him for you. Go to your cabin and take a nap.”
“You’re not going to watch him. You’re going to get bored after five
minutes and you’re going to assign poor Jaro to do it. And he’ll be too
flustered by being near the Frost King, so he’ll order one of the other sailors
to do it.”
“What difference does it make as long as someone is watching him?”
“The difference is that I care.”
Kai straightened, his lips going flat. “Fine. Let it be known that you
are stubborn, Ruby, even for a Fireblood.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It wasn’t meant as one.” He turned away. “Have fun staring at your
ice statue.”
“Uncalled for, Kai!” I shouted as the cabin door shut behind him.
Arcus continued to sleep soundly.
After a while, I rested my cheek against his arm where it lay under the
blanket. The sound of his deep, even breathing calmed me. As always, he
made me feel safe. It was a feeling I never wanted to give up.
Even though I knew he couldn’t hear me, I found myself talking to
him.
“So, remember when I was in Sudesia and you were in Tempesia, or so
I thought, until you showed up at my engagement announcement?”
Suddenly, the memory made me smile, which was nothing like my reaction
when I’d looked down from Queen Nalani’s balcony to see Arcus in the
crowd, realizing how confused and hurt he must have been, terrified that the
queen’s guards would catch him.
“Well, maybe you don’t want to remember that,” I said, waving it
away. “What I meant to tell you was, sometime before that, I wrote you a
letter.”
I waited, as if he might reply, then nodded as if he had. “Actually, I
think it was the night before my first Fireblood trial. I wasn’t sure if I’d
survive, so I wrote you a letter and gave it to Kai to deliver.” I paused
thoughtfully. “I don’t know what he did with it. Burned it, most likely,
when it was clear I’d survived and it was no longer necessary.” I tapped my
chin. “Or he could have lost it—not that he’d ever admit to such
carelessness.”
 I waited again, listening to his soft, even breaths. I touched his hair
gently, smoothing it from his brow. “I said some things in writing that I’ve
never said to you in person. Do you want to hear them?”
There was no change in his breathing at all, but I took the gentle rise
and fall of his chest as a yes.
I squinted, trying to remember the letter exactly. I could still picture
the tiny burn marks on the parchment where my hot tears had fallen. “First
of all, I said thank you for… for rescuing me from prison. Even though you
did it for self-serving purposes, needing me to melt the throne and all. Plus,
you didn’t exactly make my life easy with your distrust and disapproval and
general ill temper. Still, the abbey was a vast improvement over the prison.
Also, I met you, so… there’s that.”
My hand rested on his chest for a moment before I moved it up to
press against the pulse in his neck, reassuring myself with the feel of it beat-
beat-beating against my fingertips.
“The next thing I said was how you’d changed my life,” I told him.
“How at first you drove me mad with your arrogance, and then you drove
me mad with your lips, and then later with the way your eyes could look so
warm even though the color is so cold. Something like that.” I made an airy
gesture. “Better than that.” I leaned forward. “I might even have said
something about wishing I’d kissed you more often while I had the chance,
but I don’t want to embarrass you.”
I sat back, waiting, imagining how silly I would feel if his eye popped
open and he asked me what in Tempus’s name I was blathering on about.
But his eyes stayed closed, and his pulse remained steady like the young
man it belonged to—steady and dependable and strong.
“The last part was… personal,” I confessed. “I think you might have
liked reading it, but on the other hand, since it was only to be delivered in
the event of my death, I guess you wouldn’t have. You might have actually
cursed me to the skies and raged and… well, I don’t know. I’ve never seen
you curse the skies, but I think you might, for my sake.” I tilted my head,
trying to imagine him doing that, though the picture remained unclear. I
shrugged. “I also said sorry. Sorry for leaving, that is. I even admitted that
you were right after all, when you’d warned me about the risk of going to
Sudesia. You would have liked that: me admitting you were right.”
 The ship hit a swell and Arcus shifted, his head moving on the pillow.
I held my breath, then exhaled when his breathing didn’t change. His
eyelashes were long and dark and looked so soft. I bent and pressed a kiss
to each eyelid, the lashes tickling my lips.
“Also,” I whispered near his ear, barely audible above the rising wind
outside the hull, “I said that I love you.” My hand closed on his shoulder,
holding him as if I could keep him from all harm with that determined
touch. Or maybe I was gripping it for comfort since I suddenly felt as if I’d
leaped off a cliff and he was the only thing keeping me from crashing to the
ground and breaking into a thousand splintered pieces.
I had known how I felt for some time now. It seemed like forever. Any
future I imagined for myself included him. I was tired of fighting, tired of
the distance between us. There had to be some way to bridge it. If only he
would wake.
“So now you’ve heard my confessions,” I said softly, even though he
hadn’t heard a thing. “And I won’t repeat myself, either. In fact, if you bring
this up later, I’ll deny it.” I smiled, though for some reason, I found my eyes
were wet. I rubbed them with a frustrated gesture.
“I hope you wake up soon,” I whispered.

I must have fallen asleep again, because this time when the door
opened, my face was pressed to the quilt.
“What is it, Jaro?” I asked when I turned to see the sailor nervously
swiping a hand over his sparsely haired head.
He shrugged, looking apologetic. “The woman wants to see you.”
I yawned and shook my head, trying to clear the cobwebs from my
mind. “Lady Marella is awake?”
“No, not the young lady. The other one. Lucina.”
My lips twisted into a scowl. “Does she need something?”
He shrugged. “She says she needs to talk to you.”
“Thank you, Jaro.” I sighed. “I suppose I’d better go. Will you sit with
the king until I return?”
 As I stood outside the cabin being used for the two recovering
prisoners, the Minax struggled inside me, whispering warnings of danger. I
had a nearly overwhelming urge to turn around and leave.
Stop, I commanded it, unwilling to give it that much control.
When I entered the cabin, Marella was asleep on one bed and Lucina
stood with her back to me, her long white hair flowing loose. I was glad to
see both of them looking clean and fresh, which I knew was a relief after
being in the filth of a cell for so long.
“You asked to see me?” I said as politely as I could manage.
Her shoulders moved as she took a deep breath, but she didn’t turn. “I
have waited a long time to see you again, my Ruby.”
“I’m not your anything.” I didn’t try to hide my annoyance. I already
regretted the decision to come here.
Her head turned slightly, showing one papery cheek. “You were once
my granddaughter.”
My blood heated with anger. “The only grandmother I ever knew is
dead.”
She turned slowly, her red-veined hand pushing her white hair back.
Dirt and darkness had hidden her face in the prison. Now I saw her clearly.
There was nothing particularly remarkable about her features, except for the
fact that they were utterly and unforgettably familiar.
For the blink of an eye, I was a small child again, sitting by the fire
begging for another story.
I stepped back and clutched the doorjamb for support.
Her once-dear face wore a sad smile. “I’m sorry your mother and I had
to lie to you. As you see, I’m very much alive.”
 TWENTY-FOUR

“I’LL ADMIT, YOU LOOK LIKE THE woman I knew as my grandmother,” I

said shakily. “However, there’s one problem. My mother’s mother was a
queen, and I’ve been told she died long ago.”
Lucina nodded. “We needed a way for me to be part of your life,
something the people in your village would accept. Your mother was the
one who decided to tell you I was your grandmother.”
“Why?” None of this made sense.
“Because I needed to watch over you. To teach you. In a way, you
were like my granddaughter. I have always loved you as if you were of my
own blood.” I was shocked to notice a sheen of moisture in her golden eyes.
“In fact, some of my blood runs in your veins.” She smiled. “Though not in
the usual way.”
Her words jumbled together, tangling in my mind. I could only focus
on the familiar color of her eyes. Eyes like mine.
“I always thought I inherited my eye color from you. From my
grandmother, I mean. My mother’s eyes were brown.”
“Your eyes were brown, too, when I first held you as a babe.”
That made no sense at all, so I just shook my head.
The Minax sensed my distress and confusion. She’s a threat, it
whispered. Dangerous.
“You’re a stranger to me,” I said.
“Just because I’m not exactly who you thought doesn’t make me a
stranger.” She took a step toward me.
The Minax reared up in fear. With more calm than I felt, I held up my
palm to ward her off.
Part of me regretted the flash of hurt that crossed her features.
“You know me, Ruby. I taught you how to use your fire. Remember?”
“You gave me a few lessons, and then you left. Mother told me you
died on a voyage.”
“I had no choice but to leave you.”
 I didn’t accept her remorse. “We made a headstone for you and placed
it in the woods, the clearing where you used to rest when we were gathering
herbs. I went there every week to pray for your spirit.” I jerked a hand
toward her. “And now, here you are.”
“You’re angry that I left you. I assure you, I didn’t want to.”
“It’s not just that. I can’t trust you. I don’t know who you are.”
She swallowed. “Then I will tell you, and you will learn to trust me
again. My name is Lucina, though that name has been lost in history.” She
paused, watching me intently. “You know me better as Sage.”
A laugh burst out, with an edge of hysteria. My eyes grew wet, tears of
disbelief at the absurdity of it all. “First you’re my grandmother—though
not really—and now you’re Sage. Make up your mind, would you?”
“I’m the same person I always was, Ruby. You know me. You just
didn’t know my true name.”
In my mind, I ran through my visions of Sage, with golden skin and
hair, her face unlined.
“You don’t look like Sage,” I said, still skeptical. “She’s younger
and… shinier. Like she’s covered in gold dust.”
“I am different in your visions. I come to you through the sunlight, a
bridge between the mortal world and the afterworld. What you see is a
projection of my spirit. My mind works differently in that in-between place,
and so my messages to you have been rather… brief. There is much I am
not allowed to tell you.”
“I’ve had my share of unhelpful visions lately.”
So many thoughts and questions crowded my mind. Pieces coming
together. I had asked Cirrus how to find Sage, and she had shown me a
vision—of Sage. I’d been so focused on Marella, I’d hardly noticed her
cellmate. When Cirrus had said, “Help her,” she had sounded as if she
cared, as if she was worried about the woman in the vision. Would she have
cared that much about Marella?
I didn’t think so.
But Sage, on the other hand—Lucina—had saved the goddess’s life
when she fell to earth. They had a bond. Cirrus couldn’t interfere in the
mortal realm anymore, but she could ask someone like me to work on her
behalf.
The more I thought about it, the more it made sense.
 Still, my instincts warned me not to trust this woman. Maybe she
would reveal something that would help me decide either way.
“What do you know about the Gate?” I asked, deliberately vague.
“What do you want to know?”
“Anything.”
She chuckled. “The Gate of Light was created by Cirrus, and it is the
only thing standing between us and the hordes of Minax trapped in the
Obscurum. If you think to test me, you should pick more difficult
questions.”
“Cirrus showed me a vision of Marella in the cell,” I said, leaving out
the fact that I’d seen her, too. “We think she can lead us to the Gate.”
Lucina looked down at the sleeping figure with sympathy. “Marella
does not know where the Isle of Night is. Taking her was merely a whim for
Eurus, and he quickly tired of toying with her.” She met my eyes. “But I
wouldn’t be surprised if he meant to use her against you somehow.”
I poured out heat to ward off a chill. “You seem to know a great deal
about how Eurus thinks. Maybe you’re working for him.”
She laughed. A real, hearty laugh that made her lose her breath. “Oh,
child, how you amuse me. No. Long have I studied him, and I have my own
visions that tell me things.”
“How did you end up as his prisoner?”
“His Servants have been searching for me for a long time, even before
his return to the mortal realm. For many years, I have been the only thing
standing between this world and the Obscurum. I have spent that time
sailing the waters near the Isle of Night, creating illusions to keep it hidden.
Periodically, I use my gift of sunlight to repair the Gate.”
The Minax reared up at the mention of her gift, sending prickles of
revulsion over my skin. Lucina watched my reaction with keen eyes.
“Continue,” I said abruptly, not liking her attention. “I’m listening.”
“A few weeks ago, the Servants finally found me. My ships fought
theirs, but there were too many—so many more than I had ever seen before.
When I was captured, I despaired, thinking it was the end, that my goddess
had forsaken me. I should have had more faith. Now that I am here with
you, I think that this was all part of Cirrus’s plan.”
“Ships? You have more than one?”
 “Had. The Servants sank one and stole the other two. I sailed the
Golden Dawn, and my other two ships were Fleeting Night and West Wind’s
Chance. For years, we’ve patrolled the area near the Isle of Night. We call
ourselves the Order of Cirrus—small in number, but mighty in will.”
It was so much to take in. I hardly knew what to ask. The Minax was
sending out pings of warning, urging me to leave. My gaze shifted to
Marella. She slept peacefully, her wheat-gold hair spread over the white
pillow. “Did you tell Marella all this?”
“I saw no reason to. Her need was for a sympathetic ear and healing
light. She confessed that she had betrayed her friends by bringing the Minax
to Sudesia. I listened and comforted her.”
“How touching,” I said bitterly. If it weren’t for Marella, the two
Minax wouldn’t have been able to create a portal for Eurus to enter the
mortal realm. He wouldn’t now be on his way to the Gate.
“I hope you can forgive her, Ruby. She is merely a victim in Eurus’s
game. Like so many before her.”
“She’s not as innocent as you think.”
“She has light in her. She merely chose the night for too long.”
I shook my head, not ready to think of all this. “I have to get back to
Arcus.”
After the shock of all these revelations, I longed to sit in his
comforting presence, even if he was asleep.
“You love him, don’t you?” she asked softly.
My eyes snapped to hers. No one had ever asked me that. She was a
stranger, and now she wanted to know the secrets of my heart?
“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. Hauer,’ 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.
 I will have to enter the Obscurum.
I, alone.
At the thought, the Minax writhed in my chest, sending out waves of
euphoria.
“But the Minax.” Its joy was muddling my thoughts, so I pushed it
away. “If even one is still loose, it would continue to kill people. To…
harvest spirits.”
Her eyes darkened. “All of the Minax need to be trapped in the
Obscurum for the Gate to hold forever.” She was pleading with her eyes,
begging me to put it all together so she didn’t have to say the words.
But I already understood. In order to fix the Gate, I would have to
enter the Obscurum, free the mortal spirits, and leave behind the fire Minax
that lived in my heart.
There was only one reason I could think of that she would be so filled
with regret.
I laced my hands tightly together, my own knuckles nearly as pale as
hers, and asked a final question. “Once I go into the Obscurum, will I ever
be able to leave?”

I crawled into Arcus’s bed later that night.

The narrow mattress wasn’t meant for two occupants, especially not
when one of them was built like him. With every heave of the ship, I
teetered on the edge, in danger of crashing to the floor.
But after my unsettling talk with Lucina, I needed contact and
connection. I wanted to be near Arcus, to watch over him, to soak up the
reassurance of his solid body. It scared me that he hadn’t regained
consciousness yet, even though Brother Thistle assured me that was normal
after such a huge expenditure of power.
When I curled up against him, his temperature warmed to mine, his
heart thumping steadily against my back like a lullaby. I drifted off and
slept without nightmares.
Sometime in the night, I woke to cool lips on my neck. I turned and
rested my hand against his chest, my sense of touch heightened in the dark.
 “You’re awake.”
“How long have I been out?” His voice was hoarse.
“Just over a day,” I said, my voice almost as hoarse. I was so
overwhelmed with relief.
“Mmm.” He sounded groggy. “Too long.”
“How do you feel?”
He groaned. “My head feels like it was cleaved in two and sewn back
together by a drunk pig.”
I giggled, then moved my fingertips up his neck, over his cheeks, and
to his temples, massaging gently.
He made a contented sound. “That feels nice.”
“Where else does it hurt?”
Pause. “Would you like a list?”
“We can start at the top and work our way down.”
Low laughter rumbled from his chest. “That is a distinctly dangerous
idea. Not that I’m complaining, but what are you doing here instead of in
your own bed?”
I shrugged. “I wanted to be near you.”
He pulled me closer and sighed contentedly. “I love waking up to you
in my arms.”
I rested my hand on his chest, feeling his muscles through the wool
tunic. “It would be nice if we could wake together every morning.”
We both fell silent, imagining.
“Yes, it would,” he agreed seriously.
Experimentally, I put my lips to the nearest bit of Arcus that I could
find, which turned out to be his chin. He tilted his head down, slanting his
mouth over mine. All manner of pleasant sensations rushed forward at the
taste of him, from heat in my blood to a tingle like lightning rushing over
my skin. I shivered as he framed my face with his hands, angling for a
better fit. Suddenly, I couldn’t get close enough. I grabbed his shoulder and
nuzzled his neck. His hand found the bare skin of my waist.
The ship rocked. I tumbled off the bed, yelping as I hit the rug. I
swore, not sure if I was cursing the ship or fate. It always found a way to
destroy the best moments.
“Ruby!” Arcus barked. “Are you all right?”
 I smiled at the roughness of his voice. At least he sounded as frustrated
as I felt. I got up and felt around for the chair.
“Maybe I’d better sit here,” I said, “since you’re incapable of holding
on to me.”
He found my hand in the dark and drew it forward, gently biting my
knuckle in punishment. “Not nice.”
I laughed, freeing my hand and resting my elbows on my knees.
“You’ve slept through the excitement.”
His voice sharpened. “Did the Servants follow us?” The bedclothes
rustled as he started to sit up.
I put a hand out and pushed him back until he relented and settled onto
his pillow. “Not that kind of excitement. We haven’t seen any sign of
pursuit. I meant that you missed some pretty big revelations.”
“Marella knows the location of the Gate?”
“No, but Lucina does. Although I could call her Grandmother. Or
Sage. I wish she would just decide who she is.”
A long pause. “I think you’d better explain.”
I told him most of it, leaving out some details about the Gate and our
plan to repair it. As I told him that Lucina was the woman I’d known as my
grandmother, his hand snagged mine, holding tight. By the time I was done,
I was trembling with reaction all over again.
“Can you light the lantern?” he asked quietly. “I want to be able to see
you.”
I reached over to ignite the lantern on the wall. When I turned back, he
searched my eyes.
“This light loves you,” I said, reaching out to stroke his cheek. The
warm glow softened the regal quality of his features and the roughness of
his scars, painting shadows around his deep-set eyes.
When I dropped my hand, he reached out to caress my jaw, eyes
narrowed. “You have a bruise.”
“From our escape.”
He frowned. “How do you feel?”
“Better than you.” I smiled to chase away his concern.
His frown only deepened. “No, I don’t think so. You’re not yourself.”
“Haven’t been for a while, have I? Isn’t that the problem?”
 He closed his eyes tight, and when he opened them, I saw regret and
longing. “And I’ve done nothing to make you feel any better. In fact, I’ve
made it worse.”
When I opened my mouth to argue, he said, “Please, let me say this.”
He swallowed. “I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you, not the way I should
have been.” He brought my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles, then
folding our joined hands over his heart. “I pushed you away when the
Minax was tearing you apart and you needed me to hold you together.” His
voice dropped to a harsh whisper. “I hurt you when you were already
hurting. I can’t forgive myself for that.”
“Oh, Arcus.” I pressed my lips to the back of his hand. “Don’t torment
yourself. There is nothing to forgive. You reacted in exactly the way the
creature meant you to react. The more it tears us apart, the more it feeds on
our unhappiness.”
“No more,” he said with firm, almost stern, resolve. “I will not let it do
that to me again, Ruby. You have my vow.”
“Thank you.” A gentle warmth lit my heart, and the Minax shuddered
in revulsion at the tenderness and contentment that filled me. “But you
don’t have to vow it. I believe you.”
He let out a breath, seeming more relaxed now, though no less intense
as he scrutinized me. “You can tell me anything. Whatever you need, I’m
here. What can I do?”
“When I figure it out, I’ll tell you.” Against my fingers, I felt the cool
metal of his sapphire ring. It was an heirloom, once worn by his brother,
Rasmus. I waited for the unpleasant memories to come rushing back, but I
saw and felt only Arcus, and could bring no one else’s face to mind. “Thank
you. It helps knowing you’re here.”
“Of course. You’re always there for me.”
“And I always will be,” I added, only realizing as I said it that I might
not be able to keep that promise.
He smiled, but his eyelids drooped. “Come here. I’ll hold on to you
this time, and I won’t let you go.”
I doused the lantern and crawled in next to him. His arm came around
me, locking me against him, my back to his chest. The only sounds were the
creaking of the ship and our soft breathing. His breaths turned slow and
even.
 I lay there awake for a long time, trying to savor each precious,
exhilarating, comforting moment of being close to Arcus.
I didn’t know how many more we’d have.
 TWENTY-SIX

AS WE NEARED THE ISLE OF NIGHT, the days grew shorter, and the Minax
grew stronger. It became almost smug, as if it held a secret, and the time for
revealing it drew near. It swelled in my heart, leeching control, its voice
mingling with my own thoughts.
The world turned a drab gray.
I could no longer hide the creature’s effect on me. My hands shook
with a fine tremor. Sleep once again came only when dawn touched the sky.
I grew jittery—a furtive skulking figure who avoided the ordeal of speech
or eye contact.
Arcus tried to talk to me several times a day. Despite the closeness we
had just shared, I found myself inexorably pulled away by my own misery. I
felt him watching me, his worried eyes following me wherever I went. I
tried to be gentle as I rebuffed his efforts, but when he wasn’t easily pushed
away, I turned to the same methods I’d watched him use: clipped replies,
stony glances, indifference.
It wasn’t that I wanted to hurt him. I was just barely holding on. I
couldn’t be close to him, to risk my emotions being stirred. Any emotion
was dangerous as I struggled to manage the creature’s growing awareness
and power.
I had an easier time with Brother Thistle as he didn’t stir the same deep
feelings. After I’d shared Lucina’s insights with him, he’d grown pensive
and thoughtful, spending most of his time reading the book in his cabin.
When he was on deck, he seemed preoccupied. Normally, I would have
hounded him to know why. Instead, I was grateful for his absence and
distraction.
Kai found my “grim behavior” unbearable. He said it wasn’t natural
for a Fireblood, and he took to verbally poking and prodding at my temper
with teasing and quips. I tried to numb him out. My agitation grew. The
more I refused to react, the more his goading escalated.
 “If it gets any colder,” he said one twilit evening, joining me at my
new favorite spot at the stern, “your king will turn into one of those
icebergs we have been so studiously avoiding, and we will have to toss him
into the sea with the others of his kind.”
“I’m not in the mood, Kai,” I said tonelessly. My standard response to
him lately.
“Or we could leave him on deck as a decoration,” he persisted. “Or use
him as a figurehead. I could remove the wooden princess and replace her
with King Arkanus the Ice Block.”
I turned slowly to spear him with a cold stare. “What part of ‘not in the
mood’ did you misunderstand? Am I being too subtle? How about, ‘Shut
your gob, Kai, or I will plow you in the face with my fist’?”
He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, the auburn stubble darker than his hair.
Most of the men weren’t bothering to shave, as it would have been hard to
wield a razor on the choppy sea. Their hair-roughened jaws made them look
more menacing, which might have had the benefit of intimidating our
enemies if we were facing human opponents and not a host of shadows.
“That is certainly more direct,” he said with a lifted brow. “But you
don’t need to threaten me with a fist when there are so many more
interesting ways to keep my mouth occupied.”
“Please,” I said, heavy with sarcasm.
“Do I need to remind you?” It was a typical teasing come-on for him,
complete with a mind-scrambling sultry look. “I didn’t think you minded so
much last time.”
“Last time we kissed was in a room full of pirates. All I could think of
was when it would be over.”
“Then what about before that?” he asked, stepping close, eyes heavy-
lidded. “In your bedroom in the castle in Sudesia? Surely you remember.”
His warm gaze bored into mine. His hand came up as if to touch my lips.
I waited, breathless for the space of a heartbeat.
It was my unwilling pulse of heated reaction that made me furious. I
wasn’t even letting myself near Arcus lately, just in case a breath of desire
would set me off. And now Kai was lighting my fuse, the one I’d studiously
kept dampened with solitude and detachment.
“No, I don’t,” I said, starting to shake with anger. “I choose to forget.”
 Something flared in his eyes. Triumph, I thought, just before he tilted
his head and added, “Prove it. Let me kiss you, and if you feel nothing, I’ll
know you’re telling the truth.”
Except none of my reactions were under my control lately, and I knew
a single touch would unleash the beast. He was taunting me because he
couldn’t bear to see me so emotionless and cold, not realizing that was the
only way I was keeping it together.
“Kai! Enough!” I shoved his shoulders. He hit the railing and
rebounded, chuckling.
“You still have some fire.” He continued to grin. “I was beginning to
despair.”
Something inside me snapped. “I don’t exist to amuse you! What is
your game? You caper around, digging at me with insults and then flirting
outrageously. You’re more changeable than the damn winds and far less
useful!”
His face lost some of its mirth. “It is unnatural for a Fireblood to
behave as you do, silent and grim. Without life. You need to eat and laugh
and sing and feel things again, Ruby.”
“I don’t have to get angry just to prove something!” Unable to stop
myself, I shoved him again, backing him against the railing. “I don’t have to
be the ideal Fireblood princess for you! Do you see the Fire Court here?” I
swept my hand to indicate the masts and deck. “Nobody cares. This ship is
full of people who know they might never go home again. And if they
don’t, it means I’ve failed and it’s my fault. My fault!”
Darkness pumped through my veins. I panted, glaring furiously.
Sailors clustered around us, drawn to see what the commotion was about.
Kai remained still, maintaining eye contact, the way you’d face a rabid
animal.
“None of this is your fault,” he said in a low voice. “Sometimes fate is
out of our control.”
“Do you think that helps? I don’t want your platitudes. I don’t want
anything from you, except perhaps to rip out your tongue so you can’t
burden me with your ceaseless, nonsensical prattling!”
His eyes flickered with hurt, then hardened. “You are a Fireblood, and
as such, you must allow your feelings to flow or you will do yourself
harm.”
 “I am doing myself harm just by existing. Don’t you see? Every
second is a fight! If I give in to anger or sadness or even passion, the Minax
feeds off it and takes over. Do you have even the remotest idea what I’m
capable of in this form?”
“No, and neither do you. But I don’t believe you would truly hurt
anyone.”
He was so confident, so sure of me. And so wrong.
“You don’t think I’d…” My voice cracked as I laughed, and even I
heard the hysteria in it before I saw his eyes widen. All amusement faded as
the Minax tipped another rush of violent anger roaring through my blood.
“I am trying very hard not to throw you overboard right now! I’m not
kidding, Kai.” I reached forward and grabbed a handful of his shirt, pushing
against him with my fist until he leaned backward over the railing. I meant
only to convince him I was serious, to threaten, but the feeling of power
swept over me, fogging my thoughts.
“Do it, then,” he challenged, his brow drawn over sparking eyes the
dark gold of poplar leaves in autumn.
Bloodlust made my heart pound hard against my ribs.
“Don’t push me!” I screamed.
His voice cracked back just as loud. “Do it, then! If you’re so certain
you can!”
The Minax chortled with anticipation. I fought to keep it down.
“Even now, your face is so blank,” Kai grated. “I can’t stand it!” He
grabbed my nape in his warm hand and pulled me closer. “Show me
something, Ruby. Some sign that you’re still alive!”
He pulled me to his chest.
His heat. The thud of his heart. His scent.
The contact was too much. Everything in me wheeled out of control.
Strength flooded my limbs.
The creature took over.
As if I were a spectator in my own body, I watched myself grab his
vest and heave him upward and backward with a massive burst of strength.
With his quick reflexes, he managed to grasp the railing with one hand as he
cartwheeled over the side.
He smashed against the outside of the ship, barely holding on, but
managed to grab the railing with his other hand. He looked up at me, his
eyes wide and startled, his mouth open on a quick, shocked breath.
Jaro rushed forward to help him, but the Minax fogged the sailor’s
mind, holding him back. The miasma spread to cover the area, holding the
crew members in a trancelike stillness.
Inside, I struggled to reach out. If he fell in that icy water…
I could picture it all as if it were happening. His muscles would seize,
and his heart would stutter as he lost the ability to draw breath. He would
thrash for a moment, but he would sink. He would be just another sailor
buried in a vast, salty grave.
Desperation and fury bubbled up inside me, but the Minax fed on those
feelings, drawing them away, then poured into my mind full force. A sense
of heady power rushed through me, obliterating the last threads of my
conscience.
I was lost.
I slid my index finger over his, feeling the bone under the skin. Such a
small thing, a finger. Only ten of those strangely hinged and vulnerable
digits prevented him from plummeting into the hungry, churning depths.
“Is this the kind of touch you’re craving, Prince?” I crooned, drunk
with the sheer pleasure of his fear, the precariousness of his life held in such
delicate suspension.
Kai shook his head, his brows tilting up and pulling together in
dawning recognition. “You’re not Ruby.”
“I tried to tell you, didn’t I?” I bent and brushed my lips across his
knuckles, feeling how cool his hand was as his hot blood drained from
those grasping fingers. “There’s the kiss you wanted. Did you like it? Will
you beg for more?”
His eyes registered hurt, and some tiny part of me ached—Fight your
way back! Help him!—but it was soon buried in pulsating, malicious
enjoyment. Slowly, I slid my finger under his, lifting it away from the
railing. It would be lovely to hear him scream, and to hear that sound cut off
as the sea opened to receive him.
Something entered his expression, something I’d never seen in his eyes
before. I tilted my head to the side, trying to identify it.
“What have you become?” Kai whispered.
“Let him up, Ruby.” The voice came from behind me. Hard. Cold.
Implacable.
 I snarled, “The prince is learning a valuable lesson.”
Arcus’s hand came out and grasped Kai’s wrist.
With a rapid jab, I punched Arcus’s forearm hard, making him gasp in
pain. His other hand grabbed my braid, the sharp jerk on my scalp making
me suck in a surprised breath. With his hand wrapped around my hair, he
turned my face to his, and I stared into enraged blue eyes.
“Come to your senses!” he shouted.
The Minax shied from him, as if from an unnamed something that was
repugnant to it, a light inside him that nothing could extinguish.
He let go of my hair, reached out, and lifted Kai to safety, depositing
him on the deck in a heap.
My hands fisted, fury tearing at my mind like jagged claws. “You had
no right!”
“Get below,” Arcus told the onlookers, eyes trained on me as he half
turned to speak to the prince. “Everyone but essential crew, Kai.”
Kai rose to his feet, fury, pride, and betrayal flashing in his eyes that
never left me. He shouted the order. The Minax, distracted by this new
threat, let them go. Footsteps clattered over the deck and everyone nearby
disappeared from view.
“You too, Kai,” said Arcus. “Go.”
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea to leave you alone with her,” Kai warned
with a distrustful, measuring look. He stretched out his fingers, which I saw
were reddened and swollen.
“I’ll be fine. Go.”
With a searing backward glance, the prince left.
My gaze locked onto Arcus’s. We stood facing each other.
“I don’t like you,” I said, softly but edged with fury and a blend of fear
and excitement. My blood was up, and I craved a new victim, but he would
not provide as much satisfaction as the last one. I sensed his determination,
his steady, unswerving regard. He would not bend to my will so easily. The
game must be played more carefully, the seeds of darkness sown more
deliberately, the harvest reaped with speed and skill.
“I don’t like you, either,” he replied.
“You love me,” I sneered, grinning maliciously.
His eyes flared, his face briefly suffused with agonized emotion. “I do
love Ruby.”
 Something leaped inside my heart.
“And that’s why I will destroy you, creature,” he promised. “I won’t
rest until you leave her and I will make sure you can never return.”
“I’ll kill you,” I swore. “I’ll kill you and her grief will be so great that
we will devour her mind and she will never come back. She will cease to
be.”
All expression closed off behind hooded lids. “I won’t play your game.
Threats and anger merely feed you.”
“I’ll kill you,” I goaded again, lifting my chin, lips curled.
He leaned against the railing in a relaxed pose, but remained tense and
watchful.
“There are many ways to appease us.” I stepped close to him, ignoring
the inner repugnance of his nearness, the feeling of how incompatible my
dark heart was with his light essence. “You want her. You can have her.”
He shook his head. “No.”
“But you do want her.”
His lips flattened. His hand tightened on the railing.
I looked up at him, making my eyes soft and inviting, sensually aware
of the tilt of my head, the position of my shoulders, the thrust of my breasts
against the jacket I wore over a thin shirt. “She thinks about you at night.
She longs for you.”
His eyes narrowed. “Stop this, Ruby. Stop this, now.”
“Her skin wants your skin,” I continued, touching a finger to his
sleeve.
“Stop.” His voice broke lower, raspy and emphatic. Revealing his
agitation. Good. Push him further. I slid my fingertips to his neck. He
shivered. He couldn’t hide his response: an indrawn breath, a flare of his
nostrils, the dilation of his pupils.
Still, he resisted.
“No.” Implacable. Final.
New tactic. “If you don’t give her what she needs, there are others who
will.”
“You’ve tried that threat on me before. I see through it now. You keep
trying to make her hurt me so you can feed on her regret and guilt, and on
my jealousy. But I am not your plaything nor your servant. I won’t do what
you want.”
 I lifted a shoulder and let it drop carelessly. “Someone else, then.” I
skimmed the deck with my eyes, pointing at a Frostblood sailor. “Him. He
won’t resist us.”
The king took my wrists in his hands, squeezing lightly, making me
shudder in revulsion at the searing light under his skin. “No one on this
crew will serve your needs. They will all refuse you, or else they will find
themselves in a cold sea.”
My smile widened, my eyelids heavy. “Your jealousy is delicious.”
I put my chest to his and rubbed back and forth. His light prickled
unpleasantly in my senses, but the bliss of his chaotic emotions was greater
than my distaste.
He sucked in a shortened breath and shoved me away. “I. Won’t. Feed.
You.”
“Pity,” I breathed, enjoying the hatred in his stare. “You hardly know
what to do with everything you feel. You just lock it away under ice. Don’t
you wonder what it would feel like to let your emotions out to play?”
He returned my look but said nothing.
I watched him hungrily. “She likes that about you, all those banked
emotions waiting for a spark to ignite them.”
“But you won’t. You’re wasting your time.”
“If only you weren’t so full of light. The light repels us.”
“Good,” he said emphatically.
So difficult to break. I needed a reaction, a loss of control, a spiraling
descent into stimulus and response that had nothing to do with reason.
“Your face is scarred. You were handsome once, but no more.”
The muscles around his eyes tightened, a subtle tell of surprise. “She
doesn’t mind, and I don’t care what anyone else thinks.”
I leaned forward, aiming my lips at his ear. He tightened his grip to
keep me back. I laughed and whispered, “She wishes you had never been
burned.”
“Of course she does,” he replied stonily. “She has compassion.”
“She doesn’t like to look at you.”
“I know you’re lying.”
“You disgust her.”
“No.” The light inside him dimmed, then brightened. “She loves me. I
know she does.”
 Where his hands gripped me, the light under his skin burned.
“She hates you,” I rasped, furiously trying to wrench away.
“Try harder. You’re only losing ground.”
I swept in for the kill. “She loves the face of the Fireblood prince so
much more than yours.” I peered up at him, watching for a reaction. “Oh, if
only you looked like him, so handsome and golden and perfect. He has
what you will never have: her yearning.”
Something flickered in his expression, but then closed off.
“You told me she wants only me,” he said. “You contradict yourself,
Minax.”
“I am Ruby.”
“You are not. You occupy her body. You poison her mind. But you are
not and will never be her.”
“She is tired of fighting. She has been alone too long with shadows
inside her head. She pushes you away, and you have retreated. She has been
losing this battle since the moment we joined with her. Soon she will be lost
forever.”
He shook his head, breathing deeply through his nose. His light
dimmed.
“You know that part is true,” I said with deep satisfaction. “I do not
lie.”
“You lie as easily as you breathe,” he said, his voice rough with
emotion.
“Oh, what is that you’re feeling? Despair?” I sucked in a lungful of
stingingly cold air and sighed with pleasure. “The most beautiful of all
emotions.”
“Ruby, I know you’re in there.” His voice sharpened. “Fight your way
out!”
“But, Arcus,” I replied silkily, “it is me. I am Ruby.”
“Give her back to me,” he said, shaking me. “Let her go.”
I laughed, overflowing with joy, then leaned in and whispered,
“Never.”
“Ruby, listen to me. This thing will take you over if you let it. Believe
that you’re stronger! Focus on the love that I know is in your heart. Know
you can do this!”
 Something unpleasant tightened my chest, but I shoved it away. “This
is who we are.”
His shoulders sagged.
Then his eyes shifted up, away from me to something—someone—
behind. A blast of pain split the back of my head. The faint embers of
setting sun flickered out.
 TWENTY-SEVEN

“SO, I HEAR YOU HAD AN EPISODE.”

I set down the book I was reading. Not The Creation of the Thrones
since Brother Thistle wouldn’t let me anywhere near it in my current state,
but a book of Sudesian philosophy borrowed from one of the masters.
“Marella!” I sat up in bed—slowly, so as not to jar my aching head.
“You’re awake.”
She swanned into my cabin with her usual grace. She looked almost
like her old self, though thinner, paler, and more serious than before. Her
hair was pulled back and tied with a piece of ribbon. She wore a brown fur
jacket over a blue skirt, the color bringing out the pansy violet of her eyes.
“Nice clothes,” I said drily.
“This old thing?” She smoothed a hand over the fur.
I cleared my throat. “It’s mine.”
“Noticed that, did you? I don’t have access to my wardrobe at the
moment. I didn’t think you’d mind if I raided your trunks.”
“I don’t mind at all.” I gave her a welcoming smile. “It’s good to see
you up. Would you like to sit?”
She sat gingerly on a wooden stool, the only movable piece of
furniture in the room, looking around awkwardly, as if searching for
something to focus on. The cabin didn’t offer much to inspire conversation,
only the necessities of bed, trunk, table, and washstand, all bolted to the
floor.
I thought of at least a dozen things to say and discarded all of them,
settling on, “I’m really glad you’re feeling better.”
She took a deep breath, meeting my eyes. “Thanks to you.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
She lifted a finely arched brow. “Oh, no, nothing. Merely scaled a
monstrous cliff, broke into a heavily guarded keep, fought off a score of
armed fanatics, and risked your life to rescue me from a slow death.” She
rolled her eyes. “Do you have to be so heroic all the time? Don’t you get
tired?”
“I’m not heroic,” I said a little defensively. “Cirrus sent me a vision of
you, and we thought you’d know directions to the Gate. Turns out, she was
showing me Sage and you just happened to be there.”
Her brows drew together. She looked down. I saw that her hands were
clenched in her lap.
I swallowed. “I didn’t mean that like it sounded. We wanted to find
you, too. I worried from the moment Eurus took you. I know Arcus was
worried, too.”
She waved me away. “You don’t have to say that.”
“It’s true.”
Her voice softened. “I thanked him, too. He was cordial. I tried to
apologize, but I could tell he didn’t want to hear it. He won’t forgive me for
what I did.”
“When you brought the frost Minax to Sudesia, you were under its
influence already. You couldn’t have fought that. I know what it’s like. Now
more than ever.”
She relaxed a fraction. “That’s why I came in here, actually. I heard
what happened and thought you might want to talk to someone who
understands. Did you really try to throw the Fireblood prince overboard?”
Her haughty tone when she said Fireblood prince didn’t escape me.
“His name is Kai, and yes, I did. I remember enough. Unfortunately.”
I’d done nothing but agonize about it since. The things I’d done to Kai,
the things I’d said to Arcus. The memory ate at me like a thousand biting
ants.
“So is that why you’re hiding in bed?” she asked. “Doing penance?
Being tragic?”
I sat up straighter. “I’m here because I have a raging headache.
Someone—they wouldn’t tell me who—conked me over the head, which
was apparently the only way to disable the Minax once I’d gone full
Nightblood, or whatever you want to call it.” I saw concern in her eyes, and
found myself adding, “I was completely lost to it, Marella. I was trapped
inside myself, and I couldn’t get out.”
I didn’t know if I was looking for condemnation or absolution.
 “You don’t have to explain it to me.” Her eyes were sympathetic, her
voice serious. “You hear your own voice talking, you feel your body
moving… and the things you say even sound like you, but it’s not you. It’s
that thing. And it’s wearing you like a coat.”
We both shuddered.
“Is it… awake?” she asked.
I put a hand to my chest. “Oh, I wasn’t thinking. Can you sense it?
Does it bother you?”
She’d hosted the other Minax for weeks. I figured she would be
sensitized to the presence of another.
She shook her head. “I’m all right. I sense it on some level, but it helps
that it’s not the same creature. The frost Minax felt different.”
That was true. From my experience with the two Minax, I knew they
each had a different signature, a distinctive essence.
“No, it’s not awake right now. Lucina filled me with sunlight or
something while I was knocked out. But I still feel its anticipation, like
there’s something on the island and it can’t wait. Probably thrilled to be
reunited with its creator.”
“No doubt,” she said bitterly. “The vile god and its vile creation.
They’re welcome to each other.”
The ship rocked with a creaking groan. Perhaps the east wind warning
us not to speak that way about a deity.
My hands curled into fists. He wasn’t worthy of the name.
“What did he… Did Eurus mistreat you?” I asked. “Aside from the
obvious, of course.” Those small matters of abduction and imprisonment.
“The vision showed me the moment you were brought into the cell.” I
hesitated. “I saw a… mark on your shoulder.”
She inhaled sharply, her lips pressed tight, hands clenched. “He
branded me, that foul dog. No, he’s worse than a dog. A… a rodent. A
beetle. A centipede! All his Servants wear the brand, so he made me get
one, too. I fought like mad, harder than I’ve ever fought in my life, but I
couldn’t get away.”
Her voice broke and she covered her face. Broken sounds and jagged
breaths escaped her cupped hands. I stared in shock for a second, hardly
comprehending. Marella was sobbing.
 Then I threw off the quilt and moved to the edge of the bed, reaching
out to comfort her.
“Don’t touch me!” She jumped to her feet. Her face was streaked with
tears, her eyes red. “I can’t bear it. Not… not when that thing is inside
you!”
I backed up, feeling sick at the clear revulsion in her expression. “I’m
sorry. I didn’t think.”
She wiped her tears with trembling fingers. “It’s not your fault. I just
can’t bear it right now.”
“I understand.” I moved to the farthest corner of the bed and wrapped
my arms around my bent legs, making myself as small as possible.
After a minute, she sighed. “I came here to offer you comfort, but it
looks like I’m the one who needs it.”
“It’ll take time, maybe a long time, but someday you’ll heal. We’ll
send Eurus packing and then we’ll fight until we get our lives back.”
“Do you really believe that?”
I nodded, meeting her eyes. “I really do.”
I believed it—for her. But when it came to myself, I wasn’t so sure
anymore.
“Then I’ll believe it, too,” she said.
My heart twisted. She looked so uncertain, like my words were a
lifeline she clung to. But who was I to throw her a rope?
I was already drowning.

The next day, the wind all but died. Fog descended, muffling sound.
Sunlight couldn’t penetrate the soupy mist.
We ghosted through the water, tacking into a feeble headwind. The
word becalmed was repeated in hushed tones with looks of dread. If the
wind died completely, we’d be dead in the water. A sailor’s worst
nightmare.
After breakfast, I came on deck for the first time since my “episode” as
Marella had called it. Tiny fog droplets hissed as they hit my skin.
 Jaro joined me at the starboard rail. I was touched to see that he didn’t
seem afraid of me. “I don’t like it. It should be too cold for fog this far
north.”
“It’s ice crystals.” I turned my hand, watching them melt. “The fog is
frozen.”
“A bad omen,” he muttered, shaking his head as he walked away.
The tension wound tighter as the day went on; partly because the
visibility was so poor, we had lost track of our scout ship the previous night.
As an effective and useful distraction, Brother Thistle and Seva—
Frostblood and Fireblood masters—drilled the crew on how to make
frostfire. They didn’t actually use their gifts, since it would have been far
too dangerous, instead practicing the level of intense concentration that
would be needed. It was funny to see them scrunch up their brows, eyes
closed, while lifting their arms and directing their hands at invisible targets.
As the day went on, I started to feel invisible. I stayed on deck for
hours waiting for Arcus to appear, but he never did. Kai didn’t look at me
once, and I couldn’t bring myself to approach him.
Just before the first dogwatch, a sudden breeze cleared tendrils of fog
away, revealing a black sail, nearly on top of us.
Kai shouted, “Beat to quarters! Clear for action!”
There was a flurry of activity as sailors secured barrels, coiled ropes,
and scrambled into the rigging adjusting sails. Seva rushed past, taking her
place at the rail with the other Fireblood masters. Frostbloods positioned
themselves at intervals, ready to douse any fires. In the confusion, I
couldn’t see Arcus.
The other two ships in our armada were barely visible on either side.
Everything inside me wound tight. Had they been following us, or had
we sailed right into their territory? The latter made more sense. We were
close to the Isle of Night. There would be large numbers of Servants here.
Our ships had prepared for this, but with everything that had happened, the
imminent threat hadn’t seemed real.
Two ships appeared in the mist, the third’s sails barely visible as it split
off from the others.
I joined the Fireblood masters at the rail, waiting for the enemy to
come within range.
 On Kai’s order, we projected streams of flame. Their ship returned fire.
Our Frostbloods blocked with frost. A gout of fire made it past our
defenses, setting a barrel alight.
One of the enemy ships’ mainsails caught, then their foresail, with
small fires springing up all over their deck. The captain shouted orders and
his crew sprang into action. The burning ship heeled as it put about. We
continued our onslaught, while the enemy crew emptied buckets of water
on their deck. No Frostbloods on that ship, then.
The fog thickened.
Meanwhile, a second enemy ship had aimed at us, its bow straight
abeam, its shrouds bellied out with a sudden tailwind, as if a wind had
intervened to run the ship straight at us, broadside. Our masters sent out
streams of flame, but even if their sails burned, that wouldn’t stop their
momentum. The impact would surely split our hull.
As Kai spun the wheel, the crew worked the sails to move us out of the
way. The Fireblood masters and I made room as Frostbloods lined the rail.
“Freeze!” Kai shouted. “Now!”
Arms out, they began freezing the water between us and the other ship.
Ice built up in layers until it formed a barrier several feet wide. The enemy
ship slowed but continued forward, its hull plowing through the ice.
I spotted Arcus among the others. His gift wasn’t back to full strength
after our escape from the Servants’ keep. I watched him worriedly.
“Enemy to starboard!” the lookout shouted.
A third ship had maneuvered itself on our other side, careening at us
through layers of mist. More Frostbloods rushed to repeat the same defense
on that side, freezing the water to slow the enemy’s approach.
Kai jumped to the rail, joining the other masters, adding his fire to
theirs. In seconds, the two enemy sails raged with flames. Their sails
caught, and burning sections of yardarms fell to the deck. But still, their
momentum brought them closer.
Even if the ice slowed them enough that they wouldn’t crush us, we’d
find ourselves boarded within minutes. The Servants’ stolen Tempesian
ships were larger than the Errant Princess, their crews probably double
ours. We’d be captured or killed. Judging by the number of survivors of
their other attacks, our chances of survival were slim.
 As orders were shouted from the quarterdeck, I watched it all as if
from a distance.
“We can’t stop them,” I murmured, struggling not to give into terror.
The Minax fed off my fear.
Defend! Fight! Kill!
I flashed back to a memory of my demonstration in the arena, when I’d
used the Minax to possess and frighten the Frost Court. The Minax had
essentially broken itself into pieces, all part of a whole.
The Minax urged me on. Fight! Kill! But the very fact that it was
encouraging that course of action made it suspect. If I used it too much,
would it take me over?
I shook my head, trying to think. There was no other way. I had to do
whatever I could to stop the Servants. But if I was going to break the Minax
into pieces, I needed to be able to direct those pieces. I couldn’t risk losing
control the way I almost had in the arena when the bloodlust would have
taken me over if not for Kai.
Two ships. Impossible. I couldn’t divide my attention between two
ships. If only someone else could wield the creature with me, could help me
direct it when its shadowy form was dispersed over such a large area.
Marella.
The moment her name popped into my head, I was scrambling down
the companionway and pounding toward her cabin.
She’d survived the Minax’s possession longer than anyone else, aside
from me. Growing up hearing the whispers from the throne of Fors must
have given her a level of tolerance. She was the one who had first proved
that the Minax could be controlled—albeit by using the creature against me
in Sudesia.
Could I trust her? Could she bear to let one of the creatures touch her
mind again?
No time for doubt.
As I swung her door open, her hand flew to her throat.
“What is it?” she asked, sitting up on the bed with wide, frightened
eyes. So different from her previously fearless personality.
“Remember when I said we’d send Eurus packing?”
“Yes,” she answered hesitantly.
I motioned briskly. “Now’s our chance. Come on!”
 TWENTY-EIGHT

MARELLA CLUTCHED HER CLOAK closed with one thin hand as she
followed me up the steps, shivering at the blast of cold as we reached the
deck.
“We’re under attack,” I said, leading her to a spot by the starboard rail.
“On both sides. I need you to help me wield the Minax to control the enemy
sailors. I’ll command one half of the creature against one ship while you
take the other.”
“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” she said, sounding both
annoyed and terrified.
“The Minax can possess more than one person at a time, but I’m not
sure I can control it over that large an area.” I waved a hand in frustration,
willing her to understand my frantic stream of words. “I need you to
connect with its mind and make sure it doesn’t get out of hand on one ship,
while I focus on the other.”
“No!” she said, fists clenched. “I’m not strong enough! It will control
me.”
“You’re stronger now!”
“I’m not!”
With darting glances, I took stock of our enemies’ positions. The two
ships had slowed to a crawl in the ice, but they still moved toward us. Their
Firebloods were melting the ice. They weren’t yet close enough for our
forces to attack.
Our other two ships were under attack nearby. Fire and ice flashed
through the air. Screams echoed eerily through the fog.
I spotted Lucina on deck. Her eyes were closed, her face pointed up at
the sky, her lips moving in prayer.
When I called her name, she opened her eyes. I beckoned her over. She
looked distressed and frustrated as she rushed toward us. “There’s no
sunlight! I can do nothing without sun.”
“Never mind that now. Do you have any light left? Inside you?”
 “Yes,” she replied, curious.
Quickly, I explained my idea. Lucina turned her assessing stare on
Marella.
“Can you help her?” I asked.
She nodded and put her hands out, palms up. She met and held
Marella’s eyes with her own. “You trust me by now, don’t you, my lady?”
Marella hesitated, then nodded. “You gave me hope when we were
locked in that cell. You used sunlight to heal me.”
Lucina smiled. “That’s right. So you know this sensation already. Hold
on to me. When you feel the Minax gaining power over you, take some
light from me to fight it back. We can do this. Together.”
Marella looked frightened, but she nodded and took Lucina’s hands.
“Can you control the creature?” Lucina asked, searing me with an
intense golden stare. “Don’t try this if you’re not sure.”
I was only too aware that I’d lost control the previous day. But we
were fighting for our lives. There were people I cared about here, people I
loved who would die if I didn’t do something. I desperately hoped that
connection, that love, would give me control. The last thing I wanted to do
was hurt someone again.
“I can do this,” I told her.
She nodded. “We are ready.” She conveyed so much with her
expression and her tone. Confidence. Faith. Reassurance.
A scream rent the air as a plume of enemy fire hit one of our sailors in
the rigging. She lost her grip and fell to the deck. Her cries echoed in the
fog. Someone ran to help.
This meant the enemy ships were so close they were within range. And
we were within their range, too.
More injured, more cries. Impossible to concentrate. The Minax had
woken fully to feed on the pain and terror.
“Marella,” I said, “help me.”
She nodded and closed her eyes. She knew what to do.
“Return to me,” she whispered.
I imagined the Minax being separated into two parts. A stabbing pain
filled my chest. I had the agonizing sensation of my heart being rent in two
as the shadows divided.
 One shadow left my skin and sank into Marella’s raised hand. When it
disappeared, she took a deep, shuddering breath and grabbed Lucina’s hand
again.
“That ship’s yours.” I pointed starboard. “I’ll take the other. Do
whatever you need to do to stop it, or at least create chaos. Target their
helmsman. Incapacitate their Firebloods if you can.”
I rushed to port, near Arcus. He panted with exertion as he added more
ice to the water. Our enemies waited with eager eyes, holding hooks with
net bridges attached. In seconds they’d be close enough to throw the nets
and swarm over to our deck to slaughter us.
Clutching the cold rail with one hand, I turned the palm of my free
hand toward their ship. The Minax shot out like an arrow from a longbow,
the shadow disappearing into one of the sailors. He dropped his hold on the
net. Then the creature leaped into the next sailor, making him do the same.
Their captain screamed at them, furious and confused.
“Disperse,” I ordered it, showing it what I wanted with a mental
image.
A miasma of shadow spread out, extending until it covered everyone
on the main deck. Its strength was diluted, but it was exerting influence
over all of them at once. I might not be able to focus enough to coordinate
their actions, but I could confuse them.
“Fog their minds.”
Orders were misunderstood or ignored. The wheel turned sharply.
Their stern slid starboard, offering us the full broadside of the ship. Our
Fireblood masters wasted no time taking advantage of this easier target. As
their ship turned, their sails flapped, no longer catching the wind at the best
angle. The sailors in the rigging hesitated, struggling to remember what to
do.
The captain of the other ship stared at me with burning eyes.
Somehow, he’d figured out that I was the cause of this.
“Target the girl with black hair,” he commanded, pointing at me.
One of his Firebloods managed to obey. Flames roared toward me. My
other hand came up and met that flame with my own, redirecting the
inferno up and back toward the other ship.
Flames engulfed their deck. Terrible screams.
 The Minax fed on the glut of fear and pain all around us. My fire
burned brighter than ever before. Pure, hot exhilaration, feeding me power.
As the shadow and I moved in harmony—command, obey—something
shifted. The separation between myself and the Minax dissolved. I became
both commander and servant, moving in the minds of the sailors without the
intervening step.
I could even feel the other half of the Minax, heard Marella
commanding it, felt it obeying her. I floated into the consciousness of all
our victims. Mortal toys, ours to play with.
Moving in their minds like gossamer silk, I told them to jump ship.
Watched as they stepped to the edge, crawled over the rail, and flung
themselves off.
Falling. Screaming.
The bliss of it.
Irresistible, heady triumph.
Invincible.
No one could ever hurt me again.
I lifted my arms and tilted my head back, letting all that glorious
power surge through me. I was incandescent. Unstoppable.
Almost… divine.
So now you understand.
I blinked, shaking my head. It wasn’t the voice of the Minax I’d heard
—
Eurus’s voice came softly again. Clearer. Finally, you understand.
The Minax’s attention sharpened, listening. My whole body tensed.
“Where are you?” I asked, searching the ships, looking from deck to
deck, from water to sky, all over. “Where are you?”
The east wind blew fiercely, filling sails, rocking the ships like cradles.
Everywhere.
“I’m killing your followers.” I made three more of them jump over the
side. Trancelike, eyes unblinking, I stared as they fell. Their arms
pinwheeling in the air made me smile.
Eurus laughed joyfully. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself.”
That drew me up short. “You want me to do this?”
“Power over these mortal creatures is your birthright. Your inheritance.
I gave this to you as a gift.”
 A stillness came into my mind. An image. Two paths, just like in my
dream of the tunnels. I could choose the one I’d intended to follow, or I
could choose a brave new path, uncharted.
“Take the night throne,” Eurus invited silkily. “Take your due.”
An onyx throne rose up in my imagination, all sharp corners and
polished surfaces.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Eurus asked. “See how it shines.”
A figure appeared on the throne, with long black hair and amber eyes.
“Me?” I asked. “How?”
“You are not quite ready. Not yet.”
“How do I become ready?”
“Are you brave enough to do what needs to be done?” he asked.
“How?” I demanded.
“Kill them all!”
Throwing my arms out, I sent streams of fire at the Servants’ ships,
setting the hulls ablaze. I forced more of their people to jump.
Screams filled the twilight.
“Ruby!” Arcus’s voice in my ear, his arm around my waist, drawing
me back. “Enough!”
I shuddered in reaction to his touch, loving and hating the contact. Too
much light! Familiar, welcome. Repugnant! Safe.
Snapping back to myself, shaking my head to clear it, I sent one more
command to the Minax. “Return to me.”
The shadows arrowed back into my heart. I gasped at the sharp burn of
its presence. Leaning against the rail, I watched the flames rising from the
Servants’ ships. The crews were dead or dying.
Horror threatened to crash over me, a storm wave I couldn’t survive.
I shook my head in denial. I couldn’t think about anything, not yet. I
pulled out of Arcus’s arms and ran to Marella. When I put out my hand, she
took it immediately.
“Return to me,” I repeated, and the rest of the Minax moved without
hesitation into my fingers. Pain bit into my chest as the two halves rejoined.
I bent over and rubbed the aching spot over my heart. When the pain
eased, I straightened, allowing myself to bask a little in relief and
satisfaction. We had controlled the creature. We had done it!
 Marella’s eyes held a gleam of feverish excitement, and she wore a
small smile of triumph. I had a feeling my expression looked very much
like hers.
“She needs rest,” Lucina said, her tone brusque and disapproving,
which wasn’t fair considering that we had just won. She put a hand under
Marella’s elbow and hustled her toward the companionway as if eager to
get away from me. Or was I imagining that? Was the Minax making me see
things that weren’t there?
As the euphoria wore off, exhaustion pulled at every muscle and bone,
and I swayed.
But cold hands were there, ready to catch me, closing over my
shoulders in a protective grip.
Afraid to look at Arcus, of what he might see in my face, I merely
leaned into his strength.
I had become the Minax. Eurus had spoken, had told me what to do to
prepare for his throne. I had followed his orders without resisting. Without
question.
A shiver ran through me, and Arcus’s arms tightened.
But I was in control, I told myself desperately. I was in control.

The muffled strains of Lucina’s voice came through the door. “We
cannot wait!”
I stood outside Brother Thistle’s cabin, my ear to his door. Brother
Thistle and Lucina had disappeared inside while Kai supervised repairs to
the ship. I wasn’t invited. Which made me all the more determined to know
what they were saying.
“We dare not go to the Isle of Night before the Tempesian navy
arrives,” Brother Thistle said. “For all we know, there are many more ships
carrying hundreds of Servants in nearby waters and we cannot stop them
all. And we need the Sudesian fleet as well. Both Frostbloods and
Firebloods in strong numbers to make frostfire.”
“Frostfire is a stopgap,” Lucina argued, clearly annoyed. “It merely
stuns the creatures.”
 “Which may be necessary,” Brother Thistle said.
“Stunning the Minax won’t make a bit of difference if their cell door is
open!” she replied. “The Gate must be repaired, and Ruby is the only one
who can make sure it is never opened again. We must get to the Gate soon,
before she is completely lost. Did you see her today?”
“I saw,” Brother Thistle said. He sounded… almost sad. Or
disappointed? I wanted to burst through the door and scream at him. How
dare you judge me? I saved us all!
I shook off the distracting impulses and struggled to hear. Lucina was
saying something about Eurus. “He could be directing her actions even
now. You have no idea how powerful he is!” She added something in a
lower voice. I couldn’t make out the words.
“Far from it,” Brother Thistle said. “I know her, flaws and all. She
would not turn as easily as you think.”
Lucina sounded sad but with an edge of steel as she replied, “He will
do anything to turn her to his will. You underestimate him at your peril.”
Brother Thistle’s reply was too quiet to hear. I pressed my ear harder to
the door, frustrated. Why couldn’t they speak up?
“She’s right, you know.”
I jerked upright and spun around. Marella leaned against the wall, arms
crossed. “You’re not the only one who listens at keyholes.”
“She’s wrong to think I’m so weak,” I whispered adamantly. “I saved
us. We did, you and I, together.”
“And I’m still feeling the effects, Ruby.” She swallowed, closing her
eyes tight. “I know you’re too strong, though. I can’t take the Minax from
you. And for that, I’m thankful.”
“You would try to steal the Minax if you could? Even after all this
time?”
“Even now.”
I put my hand to the wall, turning away while I digested that. The
Minax soaked up her longing, her despair. I felt it in my bones.
I straightened. “They’re wrong, though. I’m not losing myself to it. For
the first time, I felt completely in control of it.”
“You felt that way,” she pointed out. “But were you wielding the
Minax, or was it wielding you?”
 Fear struck a direct blow, my pulse quickening. Was I playing into
Eurus’s hands? He had wanted me to kill his own followers. To darken my
blood even further? It didn’t make sense unless it was all part of his larger
plan for me.
Maybe he’d even sent those ships for that express purpose, so I’d
defend and kill, sinking deeper into the pit he’d dug for me. I shivered.
Maybe going to the Isle of Night was the worst thing we could possibly do.
But if we didn’t, who else would repair the Gate? It was me or no one.
We had to go.
In a secret part of my heart, I knew that nothing would keep me from
the Isle of Night now. I was drawn there, filled with anticipation just like
the Minax. Dread was nothing more than a vague flutter in the back of my
mind. Caution was a distant memory.
Marella’s pansy eyes grew somber. “You’re lost, Ruby. So much
further gone than I ever was. Do you even remember who you were
before?”
She gestured to my wrists. I looked down, turning my hands up.
My blood ran black, as inky dark as soot in both wrists.
I searched my mind, struggling to recall the person I was, how I’d felt,
how I’d thought before the Minax. I tried to think of Arcus, of my mother,
of all the people like Anda and her daughter who I was trying to protect.
I couldn’t bring a clear memory forward.
Panic made my pulse trip, my eyes widen in realization. I looked at
Marella, desperate for a moment before the Minax drew the feeling away.
She gave me a sad smile. “I didn’t think so.”
 TWENTY-NINE

WE REACHED THE ISLE OF NIGHT three days later. Sunset streaked the
sky in the early afternoon—days were short this far north. After dusk,
ribbons of color danced across the horizon in a dazzling display.
Or so I heard the sailors remarking.
“All those colors,” Jaro said in awe, gesturing with a beefy hand. “The
gods put on a show for the north.” He turned to me. “It’s a sight to see, isn’t
it?”
“Beautiful,” I lied. There were no colors for me. I saw only bands of
gray.
Kai had the helm, his eyes never straying toward me, not once in days.
His distrust of me was clear by his silence, and I regretted it, but didn’t
know what to do to bridge the gap between us. As he steered around rocks
like overgrown stalagmites poking up from the seabed, the crew searched
for signs of the enemy. We’d expected to encounter more of the Servants’
ships when we arrived. We saw none.
“Where are they?” I asked Lucina, joining her at the rail. Anyone who
wasn’t busy with preparations had come on deck to see the island of legend.
“Waiting,” she said with a frown. “They have been here, and will
return.”
A deep stretch of beach fringed the bay. Lacy white fans of foam
opened over and over, interweaving and replacing each other as the tide
strained onto the fine black sand. Snow-dusted cliffs showed glimpses of
black rock underneath.
We anchored and rowed to shore in small boats, the splash of many
oars making a discordant heartbeat. A somber mood held most of the sailors
silent, the only speech instructions or quiet orders.
When the boat scraped the shore, I stepped into the shallows.
The soldiers and sailors snaked in a line across the beach and up a cliff
path, everyone laden with their share of food, water, blankets, weapons, or
supplies. I kept turning to scan the horizon, longing to see the white sails of
Sudesian or Tempesian ships coming to help, but the sea remained empty.
Lucina insisted we could no longer wait, so we had to hope the navies
would arrive when they were needed. Or that we wouldn’t need them after
all.
When we reached level ground at the cliff top, I took a moment to
assess the land—a flat expanse of snow-covered lava field leading to
volcanoes in the distance. A harsh, rugged island softened by sparkling
white.
As we leaned into the arctic winds, I wrestled with what was left of my
conscience. We had finally reached our ultimate destination, but I still
hadn’t told Arcus the details of Lucina’s plan. Had she? I didn’t think so. If
he knew, he’d be trying to talk me out of it. No, that was too mild. He
would forbid me outright. He would never let me go.
Doubts plagued me, and there was no one I could talk to. Lucina
thought I was almost lost. Brother Thistle hadn’t spoken to me in days. I’d
alienated Kai, and probably horrified Arcus with my murderous display of
violence during our battle with the Servants. He seemed to be keeping his
distance, and I couldn’t blame him. If I were him, I wouldn’t trust me,
either.
Still, the thought of him no longer wanting to be close to me hurt
deeply.
The moon rose, a misshapen silver coin hovering low in the sky. My
hands and feet were chilled numb by the time we reached an outcropping
that formed a horseshoe of shelter from the wind. Caves cut into the rock
provided further protection. We made camp, eating dried meat and sipping
water from leather flasks.
Our wool blankets didn’t keep out the cold, but I had my heat to warm
me. I couldn’t sleep, so I listened to the snores of our companions and tried
not to think about what would happen in the morning.
I turned toward a quiet scuffle of footsteps. A tall silhouette
approached, then touched my shoulder in the dark. Arcus bent close. “Come
with me.”
Surprised, I sat up, wrapping my blanket around my shoulders.
Hesitating for only a moment, I followed his moving form by the cold blue
moonlight.
 When we reached the mouth of the cave, he said, “Come on, Lady
Firebrand. We’re going for a stroll.”
“We are?” I looked around at the barren landscape, shivering in the
punishing wind, then back at him, trying to assess his sudden shift in mood.
His tone said that nothing was wrong, even though we’d barely spoken
since he’d had to drag me back from killing a ship full of enemies.
“Lucina told me about something I thought you’d like to see.” He
turned to follow the path, not looking back, as if sure I would follow.
Which of course I would. Putting aside my confusion, I followed him
over winding, rocky terrain, between rocks and over hills and past frozen
rivers until I was sure we were thoroughly lost. Scouts had combed this area
of the island and pronounced it clear, so I wasn’t worried about running into
the enemy, but the strange, barren landscape still unnerved me. We didn’t
talk for a long time, but Arcus often put his hand out to help me over
obstacles and rough ground, his expression placid in the silver moonlight.
“What are you trying to show me?” I finally asked, deciding to mirror
his tone, as if everything were normal. “The effects of frostbite?”
“You’ll be warm soon.”
Doubtful. Unless he planned to throw me into one of the volcanoes. I
stopped. “Are you taking me to a volcano?”
“Close.”
We crested a small hill and descended to an area of flat ground.
“Ah, here,” he said, striding toward a jumble of rocks, a cloud of white
steam hovering overtop.
Arcus removed his cloak, then his sword, then sat to pull off his boots.
I put my hands on my hips, watching as he dropped one boot, then the
other. “What are you doing?”
“Bathing. Or rather, I’m going to soak in unpleasantly hot water to
please my lady.”
The term my lady sent a pleasant shiver through me. That didn’t sound
much like he hated me or couldn’t forgive me, which filled me with relief.
Moving closer, I saw that the steam rose from a roughly circular pool
bordered by large rocks.
“What is this?” I dropped my blanket and unfastened my cloak. I could
already feel the heat coming off the water.
 “A hot spring. It’s heated by lava running underground. Lucina gave
me directions.”
“Bless that woman,” I said, meaning it. “I haven’t soaked in hot water
since… since we were in the capital!” Far too long. Bathing on the ship
consisted of warmed seawater, usually with a basin and cloth.
I took off my boots and started on my stockings. A flash of bare skin
caught my attention. Arcus removing his tunic and linen shirt and…
Oh. His bare chest, sculpted and muscular, with curves and hollows
leading to a flat stomach.
He grinned, reaching out to close my open mouth with a finger under
my chin. “Hurry up.”
“Hmm?” It was unfair to have shoulders that broad. His arms bulged
with muscle. I couldn’t tear my gaze away.
His grin widened, his eyes crinkling. “Don’t be shy.”
He turned away, drew off his trousers, and stepped into the water.
Fwuuhh. The air left my lungs in a rush. I would remember the view of
that backside for as long as I lived.
I shook myself, pulling off one stocking, then the other. “Me? Shy?”
Well, maybe about this. But as this could be our last night together, I
was determined to make the most of it. It seemed Arcus felt the same way,
based on the fact that he’d brought me to a secluded pool and was currently
naked. Maybe I hadn’t needed to worry about his forgiveness at all.
He sucked in a breath as he lowered himself into the steaming water,
sinking shoulder deep. Then he turned to face me, leaned back against a
rock, and watched expectantly.
“Fine, maybe I am a bit shy,” I admitted, hands on the hem of my
tunic. “Turn around.”
He turned his head away. I whipped off my tunic, leggings, and
underclothes as fast as I could, stepping readily into the steaming water.
“Ah, glorious!” I moaned, once everything lower than my shoulders
was safely covered by water and steam.
Arcus turned back to face me, his grin gone, his eyes hooded.
“Did you peek?” I asked suspiciously.
“No!” His eyes lingered on the spot where water covered my breasts.
“Maybe a bit.”
 I hit the side of my hand against the surface of the pool, splashing him
in the face. He laughed and splashed back.
“Wicked Frostblood,” I groused.
“Wicked Fireblood. Like you didn’t watch me.”
“Hmph. And you didn’t even turn around for me, did you? That was
selfish.”
He laughed heartily. “You’re a menace, you know that?”
I splashed him again. “You love it.”
His eyes softened, his smile crooked. “Yes, I do.”
I dunked my head under the water, massaging my scalp with my
fingers, then resurfacing.
I thought you were angry with me, I wanted to say as I watched him
lounge against the rock, his head tilted back, his eyes closed. I worried you
could never forgive me for what I’ve become. I was sure you were afraid of
me now.
But those things would break the serene bubble that had formed over
our little paradise. So instead, I murmured the most inconsequential thing
that came to mind: “I wish we had soap.”
“Ah.” He glided toward his pile of clothes and produced a sliver of
soap. I immediately took it and rubbed it between my palms.
“Lavender and mint,” I said, pleased and surprised. “Is this Brother
Gamut’s soap?”
He nodded, watching me with a contented expression. “I know how
much you like it.”
I took a deep pull of the scent into my lungs, feeling relaxed for the
first time in… I couldn’t remember how long. Happiness buzzed inside me
like a thousand sparkling stars. We were here, Arcus and I together, and his
gaze was hot as the water, his voice like deep music, and he had brought me
my favorite soap.
“Turn around completely,” I instructed, hiding a smile. “No peeking.”
He smirked at me, but he turned his back, and I lathered my hair and
body, rinsed, then floated over to him.
His body jerked when my soapy hands touched his back.
“Stay still,” I ordered.
His skin was warm from the water. I took my time, lathering my hands
and setting the soap down on a rock at the edge of the water before reaching
up to cup his shoulders. I savored the strength in his arms as I slid my palms
down, then back up to his neck, letting my fingertips explore the muscles
there, massaging for a minute before gliding my hands down on either side
of his spine, feeling the smooth skin covering ropey muscles. Strength and
power, so carefully contained, even more attractive because he was
unfailingly gentle unless forced to fight.
He was a protector, I realized. That was his nature. Gentle to those
who wouldn’t harm him. Unfettered with anyone who threatened him or
those under his protection.
I wasn’t so different, or at least, that’s how I wanted to be. That’s why
I would do what was necessary when dawn came.
But no thoughts of that now. I meant to savor my last few hours with
Arcus.
My throat was dry, my pulse rushing, skin alive from messages
received through my hands about the shape and feel of him, so enticing, so
perfect to me. It was a struggle not to just press myself against his back and
kiss him senseless. But I didn’t want to do anything that would make him
stop me, set me away from him with cooling words, the way he always did.
So I restrained myself. I picked up the soap for more lather, then my
hands found his sides, discovering as he twitched that he was ticklish under
his arms. I smiled, then slid my hands down to frame his waist.
“Have you ever thought about…” he said a little breathlessly, taking a
second to swallow before continuing, “what our lives will look like after
this?”
My chest constricted. So much for not thinking about the future.
“Of course,” I said lightly.
“And what do you see?” he asked, turning his head a bit toward me.
I closed my eyes, searching for what to say. Something optimistic.
Something warm and bright, something about how wonderful it would be.
Instead, I blurted, “Your court will never accept me.”
“They will.”
That tone again. The king had declared it and it would be so. I rolled
my eyes. “How do you know?”
“Because there are some things I can live without, but you are not one
of them.”
 My throat closed, my eyes stinging. My heart filled with something
sweet, so sweet that I couldn’t even sense the darkness there.
“You are so beautiful,” I said in awe, watching as a shard of silver
moonlight outlined his shape against the black sky. He was just too perfect
for words.
“So are you, Ruby.” The emotion in his voice made my insides clutch.
“You are the most beautiful thing in the world to me.”
Oh, too much. I closed my eyes, forcing the tears back. I didn’t want to
waste this moment weeping. Time enough for that later.
Even so, one tear escaped down my cheek. Arcus turned just then,
sucking in a breath. “Are you crying, love?”
“No.” I smiled at him through the tears. “Maybe a bit.”
He took the soap from my hands and set it down. When he held my
hands again, his were trembling.
“I have something I’ve wanted to say to you for a long time. I would
have.” He swallowed. “I meant to.”
He sounded as if he couldn’t catch his breath. He was scared. My heart
lurched.
“Say it,” I said, squeezing his hands, looking up at him encouragingly.
I swallowed, too. “Or we could say it at the same time.” I lifted a brow.
He gave a shaky laugh. “No, I’m not that much of a coward.” One
more shuddering breath.
“Are you saying I am?” I narrowed my eyes at him, hoping to tease
some of the nerves from him. “Since I haven’t said it yet, either?”
“Hush, woman. Let me say this.” But it had worked. He was smiling
warmly.
I waited.
“I love you,” he said on an exhale, staring into my eyes. “Ruby.” He
lifted my hands and pressed his lips to my knuckles, a fierce, hard kiss for
each one.
Bands of steel seemed to wrap themselves around my chest. I couldn’t
breathe. The tears spilled down my cheeks.
“I love you, too, Arcus.”
A crease appeared between his brows, his eyes overflowing with
something stark and vulnerable. It was an ardent, almost pained expression
that showed he was feeling a great deal more than he knew what to do with.
I squeezed his hands again, loving that part of him. Loving the way he gave
his whole heart, how he felt things so deeply, how only I knew how hard he
worked to keep it all rigidly contained.
The moment was so poignant, almost as if he knew we would have to
say good-bye tomorrow.
No. I forced the thought away.
His hands, still unsteady, framed my face. His lips brushed over my
cheeks, my eyelids, my forehead, finally settling on my waiting mouth,
moving sweetly, taking the time to tease before pressing hard. I parted my
lips on a ragged sigh, giving him back everything he was giving to me. All
his love was in that kiss. All of mine. Unbearably sweet. Almost painful.
“I need you,” I said, feeling the thud of my heart against his.
Instantly, the Minax woke. The feelings that had seemed so right a
moment before spun rapidly out of my control, becoming something else,
something frightening.
Oh no. Not now. My stomach lurched with disgust. For the creature to
intrude now of all times. The thought was revolting.
I let go of Arcus, falling backward in the water, pushing my feet
against his thighs for leverage, stopping when I’d reached the edge. I
clutched one of the rocks, staring back at him over the distance that
suddenly seemed much wider than a few feet.
“I’m sorry, Ruby.” He sounded full of remorse, and it made my heart
ache. “I was selfish to bring you here.”
I shook my head. “No, I needed this. Needed to be close to you. And I
was afraid after what I said and did on the ship that you were repulsed by
me.”
“Never.”
“I wouldn’t blame you. It was the side of me you hate.”
“I could never hate you.” He said it with such conviction, I couldn’t
help but believe him. “I should never have said that. It wasn’t you I couldn’t
love. I love all parts of you, even the ones that drive me to distraction. I hate
what that creature does to you. To us.”
I looked away, overcome with regret that we couldn’t be together in
the way I longed to be. “Me too.”
After a minute, I looked back to find him watching me with a yearning
I knew must be reflected in my own eyes. His throat bobbed. “I want to
touch you so badly. I wish I could show you how much you mean to me.”
I wanted him to touch me, too, but the Minax had ruined any chance of
that. It had tried to take a beautiful, intimate moment, intending to use my
emotions to gain power over me. I wouldn’t allow that. I wouldn’t allow it
to ruin this memory.
“You gave me your heart.” I turned to face him fully. “The rest… well,
we’ll have to wait until this is over. After tomorrow, it will be. And then
you’ll be mine, and I swear I’ll never let you go.”
A slow smile curved his mouth. “When this is over, nothing will stop
me from binding you to me in any way I can. I want as much of you as
you’re willing to give, whatever that is.”
“That’s easy, Arcus. Everything.”
 THIRTY

DAWN REVEALED OUR DESTINATION: two triangular silhouettes rising into

the clouds.
My body drank the heat, and elation expanded my chest on a lungful
of ash-scented air. The Minax, already humming with excitement, carved a
wildfire path through my veins.
Even though the Fireblood and Frostblood ships still hadn’t arrived,
and we still watched every hill and curve suspiciously for signs of the
Servants, the Minax expanded, making me feel invincible. I could do this:
enter the Obscurum, save the trapped souls, fix the Gate, get safely out
again without losing myself.
I could do anything.
As we crested the final hill, we all stood speechless at the unbelievable
sight. Nothing could have prepared me for my first glimpse of Cirrus’s
Gate.
The low cliff enclosed a semicircular plain of smooth black rock. Two
pillars sat on the opposite side of the cliff. The immense round supports had
been carved into irregular shapes by wind and water. It would have taken a
dozen men with their arms outstretched to surround each one.
Between the pillars, a rectangular sheet of golden light crackled and
sparked, while tiny golden specks appeared and disappeared, making it
glitter like fireflies trapped in amber. High overhead, the light ended at a
horizontal beam, also made from black lava rock. The contrast of solid,
dark rock and warm, effervescent gold was stunning, the image burning into
my mind.
Lucina proceeded down a set of stairs carved into the cliff. The rest of
us followed.
When I reached the ground, a surge of energy almost took me off my
feet. Arms out, I barely managed to keep my balance. Everyone looked a bit
unsteady as they stepped into the arena-sized clearing, as if we stood on the
deck of a storm-tossed ship.
 “Ruby!” Lucina called. “It’s time.”
I dropped my arm and moved forward. As I got closer, I could see that
a dark vertical line marred the Gate, with a thin membrane of light keeping
it sealed—the opening I would use to enter the Obscurum. Like a crack
between two doors where light seeps in, but reversed. Instead darkness was
trying to escape the light.
The Minax fed off my fear, easing it away.
I turned to face Arcus. He’d followed as I walked forward and now
stood a few paces behind me, his attention on the Gate. With a quick look, I
made sure that Kai and Brother Thistle were a few paces away, moving
closer, as we’d discussed.
Agony tore through me, and the Minax gorged on the emotion. It was a
terrible thing I’d done, not telling him until now. Why hadn’t I told him
sooner?
I turned and took his hands. His eyes flicked to me and he smiled.
“It looks like we beat Eurus here,” he said with satisfaction.
“Arcus.”
My tone got his attention. His hands gripped mine.
“I have to go now.”
“Go?” He said it as if it were ludicrous, as if I were making a poorly
timed joke.
Squeezing his hands back, I explained. “You can see there’s a crack in
the Gate. The only way to repair it is by releasing the spirits that are inside
trying to get out. And I have to put the fire Minax in there, too. I’m the only
one who can do it.”
He continued to stare at me. “What are you talking about?”
“As a Nightblood, I’m the only one who can go in there. The Minax
would kill anyone else as soon as they entered.”
He shook his head, his brows knit tightly together. “Our job is to guard
the Gate and to repair it. Not to go inside.”
“Going inside is how we keep it closed. Lucina can tell you more after
I’m gone.”
“After you’re gone? What—” He turned his head as Brother Thistle
moved closer on his left. “Did you two concoct some ridiculous scheme?”
His voice rose as he turned to his right to find Kai just as close. “Let me
guess, the prince is in on it, too.”
 Kai didn’t reply, just stared back, a muscle ticking in his jaw.
Arcus turned back to me, breathing hard, battling his anger, trying to
keep himself under control. “We talked about this. We agreed. I would stop
being so protective and you would tell me your plans.”
“I’m sorry. There was just no way you were going to agree to this
one.”
“So you hid it? You lied to me?”
“I… I didn’t lie, but I did conceal the truth. I’m so sorry.”
His grip on my hands tightened. “I thought I could trust you.”
“I promise this is the last time I’ll risk myself without telling you first.
Next time I’m about to do something foolish, you can forbid me to your
heart’s content.”
“Next time?” he asked furiously. “Can you guarantee me a next time?”
I swallowed as I felt the stares of the soldiers, everyone around us. I
hated that this was playing out in front of an audience. “I can’t. Lucina isn’t
sure if I’ll be able to get out.”
His eyes flickered through shock, fear, accusation, and a tortured look
that seared my soul. Finally, a grim mask froze into place.
“Please forgive me.” I begged him with my eyes, heard the pleading in
my voice. This was no way to say good-bye.
“You are not going in there!” he thundered.
Lucina said gently, “She must. She’s the only one who can.”
He turned on her. “Ruby was right when she told me not to trust you.
You told me—”
“No, Arcus,” I interjected before he could turn his wrath on her. “It
was the Minax that made me distrust her.” I freed my hands and reached up,
taking his cold face between my palms. “Listen to me. Either you embrace
me and tell me good-bye and let me go…”
“Tell you good-bye!” Pure outrage. “Let you go!” His voice shook.
“You just told me last night that you’d never let me go.”
“…or they’ll hold you back and I will still go in there.”
The icy mask broke and fury stormed across his features. “Well, I think
you know which one it’ll be.” He whipped around, raising ice-covered
hands to Brother Thistle and Kai. “And let me warn you, I will never
forgive either of you if you try to restrain me.”
Brother Thistle regarded him with sadness, but also with resolve.
 Kai watched Arcus warily, even as he spoke to me for the first time in
days. “I would agree with him if I didn’t understand that you going in there
is our only hope. You had damn well better make it out, though.” His eyes
flicked to me for half a second. “He’ll be murderous if you don’t, and I
won’t be too happy, either.”
I smiled, tears coming to my eyes, grateful for the forgiveness and the
levity he’d offered in that statement, even if Arcus clearly wasn’t. His
palms were still raised threateningly. He looked ready to fight the world.
My whole body trembled. This was so much harder than I’d thought it
would be, and I’d known it would be gut-wrenching.
“Don’t do this, Arcus,” I said, my voice shaking as I made one last
attempt. “Don’t make me walk away from you feeling as if you hate me.”
“I could never hate you,” he said fiercely, “but I am furious right now,
Ruby.” His icy eyes burned with betrayal. “I don’t know if I can forgive you
for this.”
I had to swallow twice before I could speak. “I hope you can. I love
you.”
He inhaled, his voice hoarse as he said, “I love you, too, and that’s
why you are not going in there.”
He knew me, knew my determination. He had to know this was a
losing battle.
“Have you ever known me to lose a fight?” I asked, trying to reassure
him. “I know I can do this.”
As our eyes held—mine imploring him to understand and accept, his
angry, betrayed, and determined—a shout rang in the hills behind us.
Two streams of fire shot toward the sky from where our people
guarded the pass between the lava field and the Gate.
A signal.
The Servants had arrived.
 THIRTY-ONE

OUR FORCES EXPLODED INTO ACTION, rushing from the Gate toward the
battlefield.
Arcus watched the other generals disappear along the twisting, rocky
path, then turned back to me. “I have to go with them.” He stared at me
with feverish intensity as he took my shoulders and pressed a hard kiss to
my lips, crushing me to him for a moment before setting me gently back.
He opened his mouth as if he meant to say more, then jammed his lips
together and, with a last all-encompassing look, strode off.
Paralyzed by indecision, I looked from the Gate to the rock formation
that formed a rampart over the pass. It rose twenty or so feet above the lava
field where the battle was taking place. Without conscious thought, I started
toward the rampart.
“Ruby!” Lucina called from behind me.
I swung back toward the Gate, where she stood waiting.
“You can do more good in the Obscurum than in the battle,” she said.
She was right. If I completed my task successfully, we could stop
Eurus in his tracks. But Arcus was risking his life. It felt wrong to leave him
now. It felt wrong not to be defending the pass alongside the Fireblood
masters.
I turned a desperate look on Lucina.
She gave a resigned sigh. “However, you might have a harder time
fighting the darkness if you are worried about your king. Do what you need
to do.”
“I just need to see that he’s in position.”
“Hurry!”
I nodded and rushed toward the rampart, scaling the bumpy rock that
provided a kind of natural staircase to the top. A dozen masters were spread
out from the cliff to my right to another hump of rock that formed a barrier
on the left. The pass was like a doorway below us, the opening less than
twenty feet wide, though the rampart was more than double that in width.
Overnight, Frostblood soldiers had quickly built ice barricades at five points
on the battlefield to slow the enemy.
The battle rippled below like a moving tapestry under a low, gray sky.
Kai was also on the rampart, shouting orders, as he was in charge of the
Firebloods. He stood about ten feet away from me with a few masters
between us.
I saw Arcus with his generals almost directly below, along with
Brother Thistle. With Frostbloods below and Firebloods above, they formed
the last line of defense at the pass. There was a cacophony of commands
and movement as our forces moved into place.
On the plain below, some three hundred of our forces faced off against
more than double the number of Servants. They were moving onto the
battlefield from the direction of the beach, pikemen in tight formation at the
front, archers behind. Outnumbered, and more could be on their way. Our
best hope was to hold them off until the Tempesian navy arrived.
But we had no guarantee our reinforcements were coming. I watched
Arcus hopelessly. I wanted to stay near him, to provide cover from above if
needed. But I should go back to the Gate.
Just then, enemy pikemen crashed into our front lines with the force of
a storm wave. Our interlocking shield wall—round shields held in a tight
formation by the Frostblood front line—held for the first strike, and the
second, but the third felled soldiers at two points. The wall was reinforced
with fresh soldiers, and held for another strike. But the Servants, death in
their eyes, came at us relentlessly. Working together with pikes, stabbing
through gaps, and finally through sheer force of numbers, they cleaved an
opening in our defense and poured into the breach. Screams and shouts
ricocheted off rocks and surrounding hills.
Our front lines retreated to the first fallback point—the second-farthest
ice barricade. That put the enemy in range for me and the most powerful of
the Fireblood masters.
I could no more leave the fight now than I could fly. I had to help.
On Kai’s command, I poured out fire.
Kai and I focused our fire on the Servants’ front lines, knocking the
strongest down first, though our attacks were weakened by distance. Targets
were chosen with care to avoid melting the barricades. Archers stood with
us, raining down flaming arrows, which the masters lit between strikes.
 The Servants pummeled our ice wall, most with swords and axes, their
Frostblood soldiers battering at it with ice of their own. They had a few
Firebloods on their side, but their power was nothing compared to the
masters.
Still, in minutes, the first barricade was nearly destroyed. Our shield
wall reassembled behind it. A second fallback point was ready. How long
until they were forced all the way back to the pass? More Servants arrived,
pouring onto the plain with their inky clothing and shining weapons. Again,
I hesitated, remembering my duty to go to the Gate. But I watched Arcus
shouting orders below and thought, I can’t leave him. Not yet.
Kai spoke loud enough to be heard above the chaos. “This would be a
really good time for the Frostblood navy to show up!” He lit arrows for the
archers on either side of him, then directed a column of fire at an enemy
soldier.
“I’d take Queen Nalani’s fleet right now, too,” I answered, seeing a
breach in our second fallback and throwing a bolt of flame. A direct hit,
which turned one of the Servants into a human torch. His scream reached
my ears, even above the tumult. My stomach turned upside down. For a
second, I thought I would vomit.
Numbness eased the nausea. The Minax fed on all this. With every cry
of pain, my blood rushed stronger, faster. With every death, I received a jolt
of power. Especially from the ones that fell by my own hand.
In a moment of clarity, I understood Rasmus’s obsession with the
arena. All that fury and desperation. Pain and fear and grief. A banquet for
the Minax. Power vibrated through me until I trembled with it.
Thoughts of the Gate faded.
I contemplated using the Minax the way I had during the sea battle,
making the Servants turn on one another, fogging their minds or picking
them off one by one. I was sorely tempted, and the Minax urged me on. Yes!
Freedom! Kill!
But I wasn’t sure I could direct it among so much stimulation and
distraction. Our forces were tightly packed. If the creature slipped its leash,
it could kill indiscriminately, not caring if its targets were friend or foe.
So I used my fire, letting the Minax suck power from the battle and
siphon it to me, making me stronger, even as my gift should have run dry.
As the minutes ticked by, a kind of haze settled over me. A mindless
intoxication.
Archers loosed shafts with a rhythmic twang. Frostbloods showered
hail and sleet and icy knives on enemies. Steel flashed like the scales of fish
in sunlit shallows. Soldiers wearing metal helms, leather breastplates, or
chain mail hefted swords, halberds, axes, and maces. Frost and fire spiraled
in bright arcs, ricocheting off shields, piercing armor, and taking lives. The
scents of blood and burned flesh filled the air.
Some of the Servants were ill-equipped, with axes that looked more
suited to chop firewood. Others hefted fishing spears useless for close
combat. Farmers and fishermen, not warriors.
What had Eurus promised these people? Riches? Power?
Did they all worship him? Or had he threatened them? Coerced them?
After a while, I ceased wondering. My muscles ached. My hands
burned. My mind emptied of anything but eliciting the next scream. I
stopped fighting the euphoric rush and allowed it to consume me. It was
easier than letting myself consider the horror of it, the waste of life.
Without the Minax, I would have been sickened. Wrecked.
With the Minax, I felt nothing more than a distant twinge of regret,
easily drowned out by the other sensations crowding my mind and body.
The battle blurred into a sea of movement, losing meaning.
There was a kind of macabre beauty to the ebb and flow of bodies, the
frenzied movements, the prismatic reflections off armor, the passionate,
blood-drenched struggle to survive.
“It is beautiful, isn’t it?”
I jerked, searching for the owner of that familiar, silky voice. At the
same time, a surge of joyful recognition erupted from the Minax.
Eurus stood on a tall rock formation, above and behind where I stood,
devouring the scene with bright green eyes. No one else seemed to notice
him, their attention on the clash below.
In his current form as an unwelcome guest in Prince Eiko’s body, he
looked much as I remembered: extraordinarily tall and spare, with silver-
streaked black hair, carved cheekbones, and leaf-green eyes. He wore a long
black cloak, which he now filled out, his cheeks not quite so sunken as
when we last met in Sudesia. He appeared to be thriving in his stolen mortal
body.
 For a second, the numbness faded. The idea that we could be similar,
two callous observers enjoying the beauty of battle, made my gorge rise.
I warred with myself. I needed to fight, to kill Eurus above all others.
But the Minax struggled inside me, wanting only to get closer to him, to
obey its master.
“Think, Ruby,” Eurus said, shifting his bold gaze to me. Arrogant.
Serene. “You can kill this mortal body, but you cannot extinguish the god
within.”
With a shuddering sense of failure, I let the fire in my palms die. He
was telling the truth, and I knew it. I could kill Prince Eiko’s body, ruining
any chance of saving the mortal man I hoped was still somewhere inside,
and it wouldn’t do any good.
“What do you want?” I demanded, heart punching my ribs, struggling
to contain the Minax. “To gloat? You’re celebrating too soon. Or did you
come here to surrender?”
A smirk curved his lips. “I told you I’d give you one last chance. If
you come with me now, I will call my Servants back, and there will be no
more loss of life. No risk to anyone you care about.”
He glanced pointedly at Kai, then at Brother Thistle and Arcus below.
The implied threat only raised my ire.
“You think I’d agree to sit on your throne, to help you enslave
humanity rather than fight?” I looked at him with disgust. “Why even
bother asking?”
“Is it so hard to understand?” He looked amused. “You are my
progeny, my greatest creation.”
“You might have tampered with my blood, but I am not your
daughter.”
“You’d rather claim your father by blood than a god?” He stared with
disbelief, then waved that away. “Your father was a poor sailor, a commoner
with no gift. Your mother would never have been allowed to marry him.
Their love, which you mortals so revere, was doomed anyway.”
I held my breath, waiting for more. This was no time to indulge my
curiosity, but I couldn’t resist. He’d just told me more than I’d ever learned
about my father. “What was his name?”
Eurus laughed. “All that mattered to me was that his ship was dashed
against rocks and he died while you were but a speck in your mother’s
womb.”
“You did that?” His smug expression confirmed it. My hands fisted.
“You killed him.”
“An east wind can be so unpredictable,” he said, looking even more
amused by my fury. “Your mother’s grief was quite passionate. A strong
draw for the Minax.”
“You did it so she would be more easily overtaken.” My eyes widened.
“You interfered in the mortal world!”
He put a finger to his lips. “Hush. It was an accident, a bad wind. I
didn’t interfere, not directly. And the circumstances provided incentive for
the Minax to leave the Fire King and choose Princess Rota as its host.” He
showed his palms in a helpless gesture. “Such things were out of my
control.”
I scoffed. “You used wind to murder my father, ripped apart two
people who loved each other, just to make me into a Nightblood.”
“Your obsession with virtue pains me.” He pinched the bridge of his
nose between thumb and forefinger. “I grow weary of how obtuse you
mortals can be.”
“If not that, then why did you do it?”
“It’s not mysterious, Ruby. As I told you before, I need you to take the
Nightblood throne, to rule in my stead. I cannot break Neb’s law, but I have
found a way around it. Surely I have made this clear.”
“What is unclear is why you think I’d ever cooperate. My blood
doesn’t determine my fate. I won’t agree to your offer. I’d die first.”
“Think carefully about that. If your mortal body dies while connected
to the Minax, your spirit will be trapped in the Obscurum forever.”
I swallowed, my stomach turning. Before I could tell him I didn’t care,
the wind picked up, lifting battle smoke into swirls in the air.
“Just minutes ago, you reveled in the power of the Minax. I saw the
hunger in your eyes, the satisfaction. You wanted more. The raw energy of
battle and death. That was but a taste of all you could experience. A grain of
salt in an endless feast. Why deny yourself?”
“It’s not mysterious,” I said, throwing his words back at him. “You
want to make mortals into your mindless puppets. I fight for freedom, for
free will.”
 “Platitudes and ethos. I offer you the power of a god, and you respond
with moralistic absurdities.” He shook his head, his eyes going cold. “You
disgust me.”
“Mutual,” I said clearly.
He waved a hand at the battle below. “Your forces flounder.”
I checked our position. Our troops had fallen back to the last ice
barrier before the pass.
“We’re not finished yet.”
“Ah, you are waiting for the other ships,” Eurus said, lips curving up
again. “Did you really think I would let them come here?”
Trepidation pierced my confidence. “What do you mean?”
“An east wind is unpredictable, my girl. They could be halfway to the
Coral Isles by now.”
“No!” Why hadn’t we considered this? He could just blow the ships
off course, make sure they never arrived. We’d assumed he wouldn’t use his
powers as a god, but he’d broken Neb’s law before, and no one had caught
him.
He’d gotten away with killing my father, and now he would kill us all
and open the Gate.
Desperation churned through me. Without the Tempesian and Sudesian
fleets, we were lost. We could only hold out so long. Our numbers were
dwindling by the hour. By the minute.
Fire filled my heart. Fear turned into heat. The Minax stoked the
flames, lost in the luscious brew of aggression, determination, hatred, and
resolve.
Closing my eyes, I centered my mind, then reached for the lava under
the earth. It ran throughout the island, heating the hot springs where Arcus
had taken me the night before. I hadn’t mastered my ability to control lava,
but I knew it was there, waiting to be tapped.
And I had the Minax to help me.
In seconds, I felt it. Flowing, bubbling. Lines of red-hot magma
waiting to be pulled to the surface.
I directed the heat, commanded the boiling rock the way I commanded
fire, and lifted it to the surface in the center of the lava field.
The ground shuddered. Stones quaked. Falling rocks showered the
soldiers below, making them scatter. A ridge of black rock buckled in a line
bisecting the lava field, rising, breaking, shattering as the lava climbed.
Magma formed a thick channel, a moat that cut off the Servants’ front
lines from their archers and fresh troops surging from the beach.
A breathless moment passed before our commanders realized what had
happened. When they did, a cheer rose. Arcus looked up at me with a wide
grin. His eyes shone with possessive pride.
Too fatigued even to smile, I just stared back, pouring my love into my
eyes.
Our troops clashed with the Servants’ with renewed force, pushing
them back toward the lava-filled trench, to death.
I turned to Eurus, eyes glowing, heart full of bliss. Triumphant.
“Maybe we don’t need those ships,” I said breathlessly.
He shook his head, nostrils flaring, his eyes desolate of anything but
retribution. “You have exhausted my patience, girl. I gave you ample
chances to see reason. You chose this outcome. Remember that as you rule
the Obscurum. Alone. Forever.”
His body suddenly crumpled as if felled with an unseen blow, landing
on the rock where he’d stood with a final jounce of limbs that settled into
stillness.
What happened? I scanned the ramparts in confusion. Had someone
realized who he really was? Killed him with an unseen arrow? But
everyone was occupied with the fight, the arrows and streams of fire and
frost flowing back and forth unabated.
For a second, it made no sense.
Then the Minax trembled with glee as its attention shifted from Prince
Eiko’s still figure to the battlefield below.
With a sick feeling of dread, I looked down to search for the source of
its feverish joy. Amid the commanders, one of the Frostblood generals, a
stocky figure with silver in his hair, stared up at me with a look of
expectation. The Minax fluttered with eager recognition. The general’s eyes
glittered with bloodlust and triumph as his lip curled in a slow smile, and in
that moment I knew it was Eurus in his body. Blood splatter covered his
face. His sword was outthrust. He had buried the silvery blade in—
My whole body jerked.
No. Not him! No, this isn’t happening!
 Screams and shouts erupted from among our commanders. My heart
stopped. Time stopped. I floated in a moment of pure numbness,
disconnected from my body. Vision blurred, breath caught in my throat.
From that moment on, I watched it as if trapped in a bad dream. Pain
shot through my mind and body, wave after wave of agony, shaking the
walls of sanity.
I watched as the other generals seized the killer. Justice was served
with a slice across his throat. His body crumpled to the ground. But it
wasn’t justice. The general had merely been a shell. Eurus had possessed
him, forced his arm to lift the blade and…
Not real not real not real not real
They pulled the sword out, their hands coming to support that strong,
invincible form as they laid him on the ground. Even as I stared, frozen, my
mind put up walls of denial.
No no no no not real not real not real
They unbuckled his leather armor. Blood soaked his tunic underneath.
So much blood. As I stared at his beloved features, the details wouldn’t
come together in my mind. His beautiful ice-blue eyes stared at the sky,
unseeing.
No no not him not real not him NOT HIM
A horrible sound echoed against the cliffs, a keening cry followed by
choking sobs.
I shook and screamed and spoke a litany of broken words I didn’t
recognize as my own.
PART THREE
 THIRTY-TWO

DESPAIR. THE MINAX NUMBING IT away. Grief. Too much! Too much!
I rocked back and forth, huddled in a ball. I’d fallen where I stood, on
the stone rampart, praying for oblivion. The battle raged below, but it
wasn’t real. Nothing was real anymore.
“Don’t touch her!” Kai said to the archers, who’d rushed closer when
they heard my screams. “Let me see to her.”
Nothing matters nothing matters not real not real not real
“Ruby?” Kai’s voice, soft, barely audible. His hand, reaching out. I
wanted to slap it away, but I would have to unwrap my arms from around
myself and then I would fly into a million pieces and no one would ever be
able to put me back together again.
Not real not real not real
“Ruby? Let me take you to him.”
I shook my head in frantic denial.
“They’re bringing his body somewhere safe…”
His body? No! I shook my head harder. Not real not real not real
“….and we’ve sent someone to get Lucina.”
Lucina! That name broke through the chaos. Lucina was a healer!
I looked up at Kai, meeting his eyes with desperate hope. He looked so
devastated, I had to look away.
“Come on,” he said gently, bending to take my arm. I let him pull me
to my feet.
“Lucina,” I said hoarsely on a wave of incandescent pain.
“Yes, we’re going to see her,” he reassured me. “Come with me.”
Somehow we made it from the rampart to the area in front of the Gate.
They had laid Arcus near the Gate itself, its light shining over him. He was
just as beautiful as always, but his eyes were closed and his chest didn’t
move.
The people clustered around him moved off as I approached, giving
me room. Brother Thistle knelt among them, but he didn’t matter right now.
Falling to my knees, I bent over Arcus, taking his face in my hands. His
skin was so cold, but it was always cold. Blue blood soaked his tunic. I
wouldn’t look there. Not real
“Arcus?” I whispered. “Wake up, love.”
Kai let out a quiet, agonized groan, and I heard him whisper something
to someone. Familiar faces stared at me, members of our ship’s crew.
But they didn’t matter. No one else mattered. I fixed my gaze on
Arcus’s eyelids and willed them to open. “Wake up wake up wake up.”
Dimly, I heard myself. I ordered and begged him to open his eyes.
After a few minutes, a stark and ugly thought came into my mind, settling
in like a carrion bird.
He’s dead.
NO!
With unsteady feet, I lurched to Lucina and clutched her arm. “Heal
him.”
Her golden eyes dimmed with a look of profound regret.
“Heal him!” My hoarse shout echoed off the cliffs, the words doubling
over each other. “The stories say… you can heal… any wound.” My
breathing had shattered into gasps. “Heal him.”
“I can heal his body,” she said huskily. “But the spirit leaves soon after
death. Even if I mend his wounds, well… your Arcus has gone to the
afterworld—”
“He hasn’t!” I grated fiercely. “He would not leave me behind.”
She sucked in a breath, her eyes widening at whatever she saw in my
eyes. “I will try.”
She lifted her arms up to the sky. The sunshine filled them, turning her
gold once again. Then she tilted her hands down and released the light into
Arcus’s wound. I gasped, worried that she was hurting him, unable to
comprehend that he couldn’t feel pain.
Everyone was silent as his body glowed with light. Waiting. I was
strung up in terrible suspension, either ready to fly or to be dashed to the
ground in pieces.
“It’s done,” she finally said, panting. She lifted his tunic to check,
wiping away the blood with the hem of his shirt, and nodded. “His wound is
healed.” She put her hand to his neck, her ear to his mouth. Slowly, she
looked at me. And shook her head.
 That’s when I truly understood. He was gone.
I doubled over in agony, falling next to Arcus again, unable to see past
tears. I placed my hand on his cheek. He’d always responded to my touch.
Even in his sleep, his eyelashes would have fluttered. Or he would have
nuzzled my hand, would have tried to get closer.
“Come back to me,” I begged, whispering soft words, trying to lure
him to my voice. Minutes passed while I babbled—pleading, enticing,
threatening. “I won’t leave you. I won’t give up on you.” I pressed my lips
to his cheek, watching as salty tears dripped and slid down his skin, turning
to drops of ice as they reached his ear.
My chest heaved with sobs. I shook uncontrollably. Pain pierced my
midsection, as if a stiletto were being driven between my ribs. My
temperature flashed from hot to cold as if my gift were breaking along with
my heart. My hands went to my chest, as if I could claw out the pain.
Unbearable. Reopening the old, festering wound of loss after my
mother was killed.
This loss would break me.
Already, black despair swallowed me from within.
“Cirrus, please!” I begged, tilting my head up to the sky. “Sud! Fors!
Bring him back.”
Nothing.
I called on Tempus and Neb.
Nothing.
No no no this can’t be real!
But I knew it was. Sometime in the past few minutes, my wall of
denial had crumbled. And I had broken with it.
After a few seconds, numbness eased the pain.
The Minax! I’d never been so grateful. Relief spread through me, inch
by torturous inch.
I sank into its consciousness. It whispered sweet words of relief.
Quietly offering. The Minax would cure me. It would keep me from feeling
this terrible ache.
I could choose never to feel anything again.
The creature waited. Alert. Poised to act. It only needed one word from
me.
A second of hesitation stretched to two.
 A world of unending pain? Or blessed numbness?
The choice was easy.
Yes, I told it. Yes, take it all away.
The barrier between myself and the creature burned into ash. The
Minax slammed into place in a way it never had before, filling my mind and
heart to the brink.
Grief faded into a misty soup of unfeeling, the pain a distant twinge.
Sensations and impulses crowded my mind, then faded as they were
replaced with the creature’s wants and needs, stirring the chaos.
I looked up, taking stock of my surroundings for the first time in many
minutes. Shouts and clangs rose from the lava field, not so far away. I
breathed in the smells of smoke and blood, pain and lost lives. An
intoxicating perfume.
Yes, we—the Minax and I as one—would survive this loss.
“Ruby?” Lucina said, concerned.
I rose and turned my back on her. She was inconsequential now.
The Gate pulsed in front of me with an audible hum. Its honey-gold
surface bowed out, shivering as if a battering ram slammed on it from the
inside.
Countless shadows, struggling to escape. Spirits of people murdered
by the Minax, clawing to get out. They threw themselves at the crack,
desperate, wild, mad for freedom.
It was all clear now. I had killed today, with the Minax possessing my
heart. If Lucina’s theory about proximity to the Minax was correct, those
deaths had added to the volume of spirits, all bashing at the Gate to get out.
I might have played right into Eurus’s hands, helping him unwittingly.
If I’d realized this sooner, I would have been disturbed by the idea.
I waited, half blinded by the pulsing light.
Lucina yelled. She saw the danger too late. She threw a band of light at
the Gate and shouted orders for help. For frostfire.
I kept my eyes on the Gate. The surface bowed out over the crack,
once, twice, like fabric pushed and pushed by a dull knife. Finally, the knife
penetrated. The crack tore open, the slice grew, and shadows streamed out,
wraiths dancing on air, pouring free.
Kai and Brother Thistle rushed forward, arms raised, fire and frost
meeting and blending into a swift and rudimentary version of frostfire.
They directed the sparking column at the opening, trying to contain the
damage. The shadows shivered in the blue-white light, but kept up their
assault until one slithered through.
The Minax reveled as they burst free. Connected to all of them, I felt
their raw elation, heard their untamed thoughts.
No more imprisonment! No more starvation! The world is our banquet,
and we are hungry.
The agony of death would be our life.
The long, dark night had begun.
 THIRTY-THREE

THE BATTLEFIELD NO LONGER inspired fear or revulsion. It was a feast.

Craning my head, I considered my old spot on the rampart. And turned
away. It was too removed up there. Too distant.
I wanted screams of pain to pierce my ears. I wanted to feel blood
spatter my face, to breathe the sweat and fear, to taste the smoke. I wanted
to soak it in and become the battle.
As I stepped over the corpse of a young man about my size, I bent and
swept up his short sword, twirling it with a rotation of my wrist. Perfect for
my needs. I wanted to be in my enemies’ faces, watching the life leak from
their eyes as they fell. I grabbed his shield, too. It was light and small, as if
made for me.
After making my way past our last line of defense—the generals too
occupied to notice my presence—I reached the slippery, blood-soaked
ground where we faced the enemy. I moved toward the front, weaving,
dodging, twisting, leaping, somehow knowing exactly where to be, and
where not to be, at any given moment.
Images flashed into my mind, the world from a hundred eyes at once.
The escaped Minax had possessed people all over the battleground,
unconcerned with allegiance, indifferent to sides. They jumped from host to
host, filled minds, pulled the emotion from hearts, enhanced bloodlust,
soaked up pain and death.
This was how the Minax would control the outcome of battles, I
realized. If they chose a favorite, that side would be invincible.
I didn’t know if I could make the Minax turn against their creator if he
commanded otherwise. But I could use them to suit my own ends: revenge
dealt by my hand.
Anyone who followed Eurus was my enemy.
I half laughed, half screamed as I rushed forward, wild with the joy of
it. Spinning from adversary to adversary—step, strike, block, bind, thrust,
stab, slice—I cut them down. In minutes, I was drenched in blood, none of
it my own. I absorbed the knowledge of the soldiers possessed by the
Minax, and I knew just where to position my body, my sword, my shield.
My opponents all moved so slowly, as if waiting for me to strike. Inviting
me. Begging.
Through the Minax, I knew Eurus’s location at any given time. He
leaped from host to host, just like the shadows, his aim to kill us and aid his
followers. To destroy our side.
As if he’d read my mind, he sent out a command, ordering his shadows
to destroy us, to make us turn on one another.
I pushed out an immediate counterorder. Fight the Servants!
Confused, the Minax hesitated.
I growled, slamming my sword into an opponent’s so hard it broke.
Hurling it away, I dodged and wove until I came to the lava moat. The
Servants had thrown rocks and stones into the channel, forming a bridge
they were using to cross.
Incensed, I focused on the lava, bringing a wave of it up with two
lifted hands.
I may not be able to kill you, I told Eurus, speaking through the Minax,
knowing he could hear me. But I can kill every last one of your followers.
I invite you to try, Eurus thought back, sounding amused.
Suddenly, a burst of agonizing pain tore through me. I fell to the
ground, stunned, the lava wave splashing down into formlessness, the
spatter wounding our soldiers and Servants alike. I scrambled up, searching
for whoever or whatever had delivered that excruciating blow.
A ball of light came at my side—
Slam!
I fell to my hands and knees, my chest filled with white-hot fire,
blistering-cold ice. The Minax writhed and screamed, trying to escape my
heart. I held on to it with effort.
What hit me? I scanned the battlefield, near and far. Low and high.
There! On the rampart where I’d stood before. Lucina facing me. She
lifted her arms, gathered sunlight into her hands, forming a weapon of light.
SLAM!
“Argh!” It hit me dead-on.
“I’m fighting on your side!” I shouted, though she was too far to hear.
 She gathered up another ball. I panted in sudden fear, dodging and
weaving, diving into the thickest part of the fight, rushing through the
melee, desperate to avoid another hit.
SLAAAM!
I hit the ground. Soldiers screamed from the bright flash. My vision
went stark white and took a few seconds to return.
What was she doing? I stumbled to my feet, weaving drunkenly, my
head ringing. My chest felt like an open wound, burning, throbbing.
“I’ll kill you for this!” I dodged my way back toward the pass.
Betrayed by Sage! I had been right not to trust her. She’d been working
against me all along!
When I reached the pass, I climbed the steep path to the rampart,
readying fire in my palms.
Before I emerged at the top, Lucina spoke. “Do not defy me right now,
Ruby!” She was closer than I expected, anticipating my arrival.
I threw my fire.
Her light took me down, knocking the air from my lungs. I fought for
breath, wild with pain and the need to hurt her back.
“Why?” I gasped.
“You have let that creature overtake you,” she said, coming closer as I
writhed helplessly, my hands pressed to my chest. “I can’t let you do that.”
“Kill you!” I breathed, glaring hate.
“Rein. Your. Self. In!” she commanded, bending over me. Her lips
were drawn back, teeth gritted, her eyes spitting gold flames, promising
violence. It was a look I couldn’t have imagined her capable of wearing.
“Will not yield to you,” I said, hiding my palms, building fire.
Slam! More light. My throat vibrated with screams. It hurt so much! I
swore at her, calling her names in two languages.
She held up another glowing orb, threatening, waiting. “I am not
playing a game, Ruby. Listen to me!”
I glared up at her, panting, weak, helpless to do anything else.
“I know you’ve just suffered a devastating loss,” she said, her eyes
softening a touch, “but you are still needed. The Gate is open, the breach
growing, the Minax escaping. Night is taking over the world, and once it
does, there will be nothing I can do to stop it! Do you understand? I need
you, Ruby! I need you to do what you came to do!”
 “Too late,” I said, shuddering, rubbing my chest. “Gave myself to the
Minax. Can’t go back.”
“Of course you can! Find the light inside yourself and dig your way
out! Don’t be a fool. You’re smarter than this.”
“Stop insulting me!” I shouted hoarsely.
Kill her, the Minax advised.
If only I could! She was unstoppable!
Lucina shook her head in frustration. “If you don’t find your light now,
Ruby, you won’t ever find it! And we are all lost.”
“I can’t go back to that pain,” I told her, unbending. “I can’t let the
Minax go.”
“Then your Arcus died for nothing,” she said, her words slipping past
the numbness and twisting like a knife in my chest. “And you have spit on
his memory.”
“Don’t even say his name!”
“You know it’s true. Just as I know that you’ll do the right thing.”
Regaining a bit of strength, I struggled to my knees, staring up at her
defiantly. “All I have to do is wait for nightfall. I’ve seen you after dark.
You’re powerless!”
“That’s right.” She nodded. “I am. And if you change your mind then,
it will be too late. For you. For me. For all of us.”
I hid my face in my hands, more confused and torn up than I’d ever
been. “Not strong enough,” I admitted, dropping my hands. “You think I’m
stronger than I really am.” I shook my head. “I’m… I’m not what you think.
And I can’t do what you’re asking.”
“Yes. You can. You’re going to go into the Obscurum and release those
mortal spirits. And then you’re going to call back all these Minax and force
them inside while I fix the Gate. It has to be done now while we still have
light.” She looked up at the sun, already descending toward the tops of the
volcanoes. “We have maybe an hour left, Ruby. There is no time for doubt!”
“Need to avenge him,” I said, pleading with her to understand.
“You will. By putting a stop to Eurus once and for all. That’s how you
get your revenge.”
I swallowed, took a breath. “I might never come out.”
“I believe you can, Ruby. I believe you can do anything.” She took a
shuddering breath. “And if you have to make that ultimate sacrifice, then
the entire world will owe its freedom to you. Is that not enough to make you
want to try?”
I closed my eyes. What would Mother want me to do? What would
Arcus want me to do?
“All right,” I said, pushing to my feet.
“I’m so proud of you,” she said.
When I swayed, she caught my shoulder. I winced at the light under
her skin, but gritted my teeth and found my balance. I nodded and she let
go.
Her eyes grew somber. “I hate to tell you this when you’re already
sacrificing so much, Ruby, but there’s one more thing you need to do before
you go through the Gate.”

Energy sizzled in the air around us. A beam of light broke through the
ever-present bank of clouds and flowed into Lucina’s hands, coating her
body. Like a crystal that redirects and concentrates the sun’s rays, her hands
filled, then forced a bolt of explosive heat into my chest. I fell to my knees,
put my hands up in an automatic defensive gesture, but the sunlight entered
anyway.
Now I knew what my mother had gone through to give up her gift. Our
fiery emotions gave the Minax an advantage, so we had both chosen to
relinquish our fire willingly. But it felt as if my heart were being cut out
with a scythe. The pain was so intense, I couldn’t scream. I knelt, twitching
in misery, while pitiless light carved a path to the center of my chest.
Heat was drawn from my fingertips, from my veins, into her hands. I
opened my eyes, squinting in the rays of sunset, the sky streaked in shades
of fire and blood.
Lucina fell to her knees beside me and was quiet.
I shuddered and gasped, my heart drumming a frenzied, uneven beat as
it adjusted to this new reality. I was a Fireblood no longer. No burning
emotions to make me more vulnerable to the Minax. No passion to cloud
my mind.
No gift.
 No me.
I shook off any self-pity, any regret.
My only purpose now was to defeat Eurus. It was all I lived for.
Whatever I had to do.
And I was ready to enter the Gate.
 THIRTY-FOUR

THE GATE SNAPPED AND GLOWED AS before, but the thin, dark fissure
had widened.
Several pairs of Frostblood and Fireblood masters were combining
their version of frostfire to block the opening. Against all odds, they had
slowed the release of shadows almost to a standstill. Lucina was using
beams of sunlight to deflect the escaping shadows, so they couldn’t possess
the masters as they worked.
As I neared, I saw Brother Thistle on his knees next to Arcus’s body.
My stomach flipped over, my heart ripped open again at the sight of him.
For a second, I longed to give in to the Minax once again.
Instead, I moved next to Arcus, shaking as a fresh wave of grief
flooded my chest. My vision blurred as I struggled to stay upright.
“He was like a son to me,” Brother Thistle said in a thin voice that
sounded nothing like him at all. I wiped my eyes to see him bent over the
still form, his shoulders hunched as if blows were raining down on him. As
if his grief was too great even to be eased by tears. I waited until he sat back
on his heels and had taken a few calming breaths before I spoke.
“I’m going into the Obscurum now,” I said, my voice thick with
unshed tears. “I just wanted to say…” I swallowed, searching for the right
words, then gave up. There were no right words.
“I believe in you, Miss Ruby Otrera.” As he turned his head to look at
me, I saw that his blue eyes shone with a layer of mist, though he tried to
force a trembling smile to his lips. “I have always believed in you. Go.
Make me proud. Make your goddess proud. And save us all.”
I put my arms around him, grateful when he pressed one hand to my
back, returning the embrace. “Thank you for teaching me. For everything.”
“I would do so again,” he said, his voice thick, “a hundred times over,
and thank Fors for giving me the chance.”
I tried to smile, and almost managed it.
“Gods go with you, Ruby.”
 Kai spoke my name, soft but clear. The sounds of battle were muffled,
this area clogged with solemn quiet. He nodded at me as he and the
Frostblood warrior ceased making frostfire. His skin was sheened with
sweat, his eyes glazed with exhaustion. But he straightened and bowed at
me as if we were meeting at court. I swallowed and nodded, which was as
much as I could manage.
I knew it was time. He was giving me a few moments to enter the
Gate.
Our eyes held. He smiled for a second, then his face crumpled.
“Be safe, little bird,” he said in a choked voice. “Come back to us.
Remember, you are the exception to all rules.”
I rubbed my eyes. No more tears from here on, I promised myself. Too
much depended on me to give into feelings that could sway my focus.
“I hope to see you again soon, Kai,” I said. He nodded, face twisting,
and turned away.
I bent and planted a kiss on Arcus’s cold cheek, smoothing his hair
back from his forehead.
“Good-bye, my love,” I whispered.
I tried to move away, to push myself to my feet, but my muscles
locked, everything in me fighting to stay. Now that it was time, I couldn’t
leave him. I realized how foolish it was to think that I would leave him. I
couldn’t go!
“I will keep him safe, Ruby,” Lucina stated with firm sympathy. “You
must save those who remain.”
Closing my eyes tight, I pressed my forehead to Arcus’s one last time,
then forced myself to stand. I walked stiffly to the Gate, feeling as if I were
fighting my way against the tide.
Lucina’s arms were raised, her palms open as she protected the masters
from the escaping Minax.
Just before I stepped through, she used one hand to pull a pendant on a
chain from around her neck. Light spilled between her clenched fingers as
she handed the necklace to me.
“Cirrus’s crystal,” she said, “to show you the way in the dark—but
also to show you your light should you need it. If despair should overwhelm
you in that place, I want you to have some means of overcoming it.”
“Don’t you need it?”
 “It is mine to give.”
I clutched it in my fist. “Thank you.”
“Release the spirits of the dead first. It’s hanging on to darkness that
keeps them trapped. If they give that up, they will be able to pass through
the Gate as light and move into the afterworld. Only once they are all gone
can we be sure the Gate will hold.”
I nodded, suddenly unsure whether I could do this, whether it was even
possible.
“Then call the Minax to you, the ones that escaped,” she instructed.
“They should be drawn to you. Once they enter the Obscurum through the
rift, I’ll reseal the Gate.”
Without another word, I stepped in.

As soon as I passed the membrane of light, my ears rang with the

screaming of souls.
Shrieking, frenzied spirits swirled in the air like bats, swooping and
brushing past as they bashed against the Gate. I felt them as the beat of
vulture wings against my back, the stinging bite of wind in my face, and the
gouging rend of talons on my neck.
“Stop! I’ve come to help you!” My cries were swallowed by the din. I
tried to connect with their minds, to reach out and touch their thoughts the
way I did with the Minax, but disorder reigned. They were intent on hurling
themselves against the Gate, on crashing through. The clamor shredded
reason and turned all thoughts to chaos.
With my head bent, I fought my way forward, stumbling, searching for
space, for some tiny measure of quiet. Only there were so many, so many
angry, agonized spirits. The screams were too loud. Finally, overwhelmed, I
shoved my fists over my ears and curled up on the cold stone floor, wishing
I could burrow under the earth to escape.
As a talon slashed my ear, I gasped and put a hand up to stanch the
blood. Something fell from my palm. Light exploded out. The shrieking
increased in volume, but from farther away. When my vision cleared, I saw
what I had dropped.
 Cirrus’s crystal. It glowed and pulsed with white fire that lit a circular
area about twenty feet wide. The winged and taloned shadows pressed
against the outer edges as if longing to rush forward, but fearful or blocked.
I picked up the chain attached to the crystal and stood. Experimentally,
I swung the chain back and forth. As the light moved, the spirits shrieked
and moved with it, skittering away from the glow.
Thank you, Sage.
The Minax in my heart sent out a pulse of recognition at the spirits of
mortals, cataloging some of them with satisfaction. It had caused many of
their deaths over the millennium it had spent in the throne of Sud. Some of
these spirits must have been trapped in the Obscurum for centuries. I
wondered if they would even understand me.
“You are not trapped anymore,” I told them slowly. “I want to free
you.”
Their shrieking quieted a little. They hovered in the darkness as if
listening.
“Come forward,” I said, even as my hands and legs shook with fear. If
I could talk to them, one by one, I might be able to help them understand.
They seemed afraid of the light, unwilling or unable to enter its beam.
I closed my fist over the crystal, leaving the end exposed and pointing down
to make a smaller circle around my body. The spirits immediately surged
toward me, stopping just shy of the glow.
“I will help you,” I said. “But you have to give me something in return.
I need some of your darkness.” They shrank back. I felt their fear, a furious,
ingrained resistance to what I was asking.
I whispered, “Just a little.” I held out my cupped palm. “Fill my hand
with shadows. It’s hardly anything. Not enough to miss.”
I held my breath.
One spirit fluttered forward. As it came into the light, it began to
change. The winged shadow transformed into a woman wearing a black
gown sewn with pearls. A gold band adorned her head. Rearing back in
shock, I recognized it as Queen Nalani’s crown.
Understanding came a second later. This was how the spirit had looked
in life. She was a Fire Queen from some time in the past. She might have
been one of my ancestors, even my maternal grandmother for all I knew! I
wished she could speak, that I could ask her questions, find out more about
her.
But it didn’t matter, not really, not anymore. All that mattered was
releasing her spirit so Lucina could seal the Gate. Time was running out.
“Fill my hand with darkness,” I said, watching fear and trepidation
pass over her face. The longer she stayed in the crystal’s soft light, the more
solid she appeared.
Her ghostly hand came over mine, palm to palm. My skin tingled then
burned as silky tendrils of shadow entered my body, flowing from hers to
mine. I sucked in a breath as the harsh passion of her darkest emotions
flowed through my veins and into my heart.
Terror. Fury. Bleak despair. A tearing, twisted longing destined to go
unfulfilled. Her memories might be long dead, extinguished by time and
imprisonment, but the emotions remained. They all rushed into me at once,
filling me with agony.
I shook violently as I absorbed her shadows, drawing the tendrils into
my skin, pulling even as she gave, so the queen could never quite fill my
cupped palm. With every second that passed, her spirit glowed brighter.
Using little nudges of my mind, I coaxed her into surrendering more, even
as my own spirit contorted in pain from what I was receiving.
The dark stream slowed, then ceased altogether. Her eyes met mine.
She was made of pure, golden light, transparent but fully formed, every line
of her face and clothing sharply detailed, like a begrimed painting that has
been cleaned and restored.
“You can leave now,” I said, fighting the sick churning in my stomach,
the heavy weight of desolation in my chest. “You are made of light. You can
pass through and be free.”
I gestured to the Gate with a trembling finger.
The spirit’s face lit with happiness, relief, and gratitude. Hope. You will
release all prisoners? Free us?
I blinked in shock; I hadn’t thought she could speak, but she had asked
the question in my mind.
“I will release the spirits of mortals,” I told her. “But the Minax must
stay here.”
Her brows knitted, her expression radiating concern and worry. Her
outline grew cloudy as a hint of desperation darkened her eyes.
 As I am, so are we all. Spirits twisted by the dark.
I shook my head in confusion. Maybe she didn’t know what else was
trapped down here with her.
“The god Eurus created shadow creatures called the Minax,” I
explained. “They are imprisoned here, too, and they must remain.”
No! She shook her head. There are only spirits here. All these. Spirits.
I looked around, releasing my hold on the crystal so more light filled
the chamber. I caught glimpses of the spirits as they shrieked and fled to the
darkness. Every single one looked like a Minax, with sharp edges and
flowing tendrils around them.
“All of these are spirits of mortals?” I asked in growing horror.
She nodded, brightening again with hope.
“There are no Minax?” I pressed, needing to be sure.
One and the same, she replied. Spirits. Minax. The same.
“My gods,” I said, rocked to my soul by this realization. “He didn’t
create creatures from darkness. He used the spirits of mortals and twisted
them into the Minax.”
The queen nodded, satisfied now that I understood.
My knees weakened. So many creatures. Thousands. Countless. I was
barely surviving the extra weight of a single spirit’s heaviest emotions in
my heart. How would I survive all of them?
We suffer. We are not meant to be here. You will free us all?
“I vow I will free them all,” I found myself saying. I shook off the
despair that told me I could never do it. If it took forever, I would end this.
There was nothing waiting for me in the mortal world. Maybe this had been
my purpose all along. Brother Thistle had believed all along that I was the
Child of Light, but I was really the Child of Darkness. I would live in
darkness, but the world would be safe.
The queen glowed brightly at my promise. Thank you. Then she
turned, became a beam of light, and disappeared through the Gate.
Bracing myself with a deep breath, I faced the hordes of shadows
pressing at the edges of the crystal’s light.
So many.
“Who’s next?” I asked, fighting a tide of hopelessness. “I can do this.”
“Can you, though?” a velvet voice said from somewhere in the murk.
I closed my eyes in recognition.
 “Come now, Ruby.” Eurus’s voice was enticing, mesmeric. “You’ve
freed one. There are tens of thousands more. If you keep this up, you will
be one of them before long.”
 THIRTY-FIVE

“I WILL FREE THEM,” I VOWED, MORE to myself than him.

His chuckle reverberated off unseen walls. In the shadows, spirits
shifted, parting to make a path for him. He stopped just within the light’s
edges.
Eurus was no longer in Prince Eiko’s body. He’d transformed into
someone taller, broader, with ruthlessly even features. His muscular arms
were bare, his chest covered in armor that looked like scales, his legs
encased in leather and steel. He looked like war made flesh, aggressive and
invincible. Like the other gods, he was almost too perfect, hard to look at
directly, not meant for mortal eyes. I knew instinctively this was his true
form. Deep, primal fear paralyzed my limbs.
Taking a breath and clenching my hands to still their violent tremor, I
tried to mask my fear. “What do you want?”
“You already know.”
“I won’t take your throne.” I opened one hand, letting the crystal flash
a single pulse to show I meant what I said. The spirits careened back,
screaming.
“You should be prostrating yourself with gratitude,” Eurus said once
the shrieks had died down. There was a hint of honest confusion tempering
his frustration. “I claim you as my regent in the mortal world. Understand,
you wouldn’t preside over one paltry kingdom. You would rule over all
other monarchs. I have never bestowed such an honor on any other.”
I clutched the crystal for strength. Now that I was in the Obscurum, I
felt the call of the throne, the consuming need to connect with it. The
promise of power, to never be weak or vulnerable again. But I wouldn’t
give in.
“I reject your claim and refuse your so-called honor.”
“Even now, I feel your misery.” His voice was honeyed with false
sympathy. “Your hopelessness. Your utter despair. Do you truly want to
defy me? To reject the joy I offer?” He sounded genuinely curious, almost
surprised.
“I’m saying no.”
The spirits moaned and hissed, sensing Eurus’s growing annoyance.
But when he spoke, his tone betrayed no anger, sounding calm and patient.
“Perhaps you need a test of your resolve to make things clear. Release this
spirit, and then we’ll see how you feel.”
From out of the shadows, a spirit floated into the light. It looked as if it
wore a barbed crown and pointy protrusions on its shoulders that mimicked
black ice.
“Come forward,” I said with determination. I wouldn’t back down. “I
can help free… you…”
I trailed off as the shadow transformed into a dim outline of a person,
the crown melting smaller, his flawless young face materializing along with
a lean build and white-blond hair. High cheekbones, sculpted lips so like his
brother’s, the eyes like empty voids. In life, they’d been a deep blue.
Fireling, the spirit said in my mind, the word a caress.
Rasmus. The former Frost King, Arcus’s brother, who had died when
he and I destroyed the cursed frost throne. Rasmus had chosen death by the
Minax over life without it.
“I think you two know each other,” Eurus said with obvious
satisfaction.
I stepped backward. The spirit followed. His eyes pierced mine,
regarding me with intense longing, the same way he’d looked at me in life.
Bile crept up my throat. I could not release the spirit of the monster
responsible for my mother’s death, for murdering every Fireblood in
Tempesia. I wouldn’t help him find the light he craved. He should suffer in
eternal darkness.
“Well, Ruby?” Eurus prompted. “Don’t you want to perform this good
deed?” His voice grew louder, more insistent. “Release this spirit into the
light! Take all of his hatred and violence into yourself. Know his loneliness
and pain as your own. And then live with it forever.”
“I—” I floundered, at a loss for words. My fist tightened around the
crystal, making the light spill out in gashes between my fingers. Eurus had
me backed into a corner, and he knew it. Cirrus’s Gate had been broken
once. If I left even one spirit inside, it could break again.
 And yet… to free this one…
“Think carefully before you decide,” the god warned. “Because you
will live forever, here, Ruby. The Obscurum lies between the mortal world
and the afterworld. It is a place of suspension, where there is no decay. You
will live on, eternal, without the escape of death.”
All the air left my lungs. “Can I choose to die?”
“Never.”
I closed my eyes tight. I wanted to howl with the sense of helplessness
and fear and loss. I tightened my fists. As I did so, some of the light from
Cirrus’s crystal seeped into my skin, giving me the tiniest measure of peace.
Just enough.
I faced the spirit of Rasmus, staring straight into his eyes. He looked
back at me with that strange intensity. I put out my hand flat, palm up.
“Give me your darkness.”
He moved closer but didn’t lift his hand.
I wish to stay here, he said, his eyes flaring with something greedy.
With you.
“You can’t,” I said, hardening my resolve. As if I would want his
presence here to torment me for eternity! “You have to leave. Give me your
darkness. Go to the light. Your…” I swallowed. “Your brother’s spirit waits
for you.”
Tears filled my eyes, my chest exploding with pain.
Rasmus actually looked sorrowful for a heartbeat. He held his hand
over mine, palm down.
It will hurt, he warned.
“I can handle it.”
He poured the shadows into my hand, into my heart. The force of it
shocked me. I nearly crumpled, only staying upright by locking my knees.
There is more, Rasmus said, hesitating.
“All of it,” I whispered, choking on anguish.
Then all the fear and anger and jealousy and rage that he’d held on to
came flowing through, hitting my heart with bruising force. Despair warred
with the urge for violence, which morphed into terror.
That is all, his voice said in my mind.
I forced my eyes open, my vision hazy. He was made of bright, pure
light.
 “Go,” I said weakly. “Go.”
With a final touch against my hand, he turned into a beam of light and
disappeared.
Now all his melancholy, wretchedness, and hate would be mine for
eternity. My knees turned to water and I fell to the floor. I wanted to seep
into the cold stone. I glanced at the crystal, squeezing tight. It gave off a
pulse of energy, but the light was weaker now.
A sense of futility shook my resolve.
Each spirit would weaken me, and I’d be helpless not to use the crystal
to help me each time. Its light would be depleted quickly. There was no way
I could do this ten times more, let alone a thousand, or ten thousand.
I searched for Eurus among the shifting shadows. I let more light
escape the crystal, needing to see his eyes, to remind myself who and what I
was fighting.
I’ll defy you forever, I wanted to say. I’ll never give up.
The view of his piercing gaze startled me, almost made me drop the
crystal. Raw, blistering rage shone in his green eyes.
“So,” he said, stepping into the circle of light. “You actually allowed
his spirit to leave. The spirit of your mother’s murderer.” He nodded to
where Rasmus had been a moment ago. “If you thought to impress me,
know that I feel only disgust for your weakness.”
“I will do that again and again until every spirit is released,” I swore,
forcing myself to meet his eyes, though I trembled. “I’ll fight this battle
forever, if I have to.”
“No, you will not.” His lip curled. “Your refusals were a challenge at
first, but I grow weary. Enough.”
He reached out and took my wrist in a crushing grip. There was a
blinding flash, and when it cleared, I saw we were in a cavernous room
filled with tall black columns and lit by torches. The black rock shone with
reflected light, the ceiling so high it disappeared overhead.
Disoriented at finding myself in the same room I’d seen in my dreams,
it took me a second to find my voice. “No matter what you do—”
Before I could finish, he shoved at my shoulders, sending me
sprawling backward. I sat down hard, my legs meeting a rigid surface. It
was a huge, flat slab of stone, with a tall back and armrests too far on either
side for me to reach.
 I struggled to stand. But the stone seemed fused to me, or me to the
stone. I couldn’t rise. “What—”
“Finally, you are where you belong.” His lips pulled back, revealing
flawless white teeth in a feral grin. “What do you think of the night
throne?”
 THIRTY-SIX

THE BLEAK TRUTH SANK IN. EURUS had tossed me on the throne without
so much as a warning. All my refusals and defiance had still led to this
moment. How naive I’d been to assume I’d have a choice. He was a god in
the Obscurum, and I was still just a mortal. I had half a beat to absorb a
deep sense of futility before chaos hit.
A thousand images assailed me at once. The earsplitting sounds of
battle, the acrid taste of smoke and burned flesh. The hundred or so escaped
shadows capering over the lava field, flitting between hosts, riding waves of
bloodthirsty joy, transmitting every gory morsel to me. The throne
connected me with them more deeply than ever before, sharing every
nuance of what they thought, felt, and sensed.
Each spirit in the Obscurum was woven directly into my mind as well,
their screams howling in my ears, their yearning to escape vibrating along
my every nerve. It was a tapestry with ten thousand threads, all connected
to my fingers.
Too much! The sensations and images attacked my mind, excruciating
in their intensity. I tilted my head back, the cords in my neck straining,
imprisoned by cold stone, besieged by the screams of the dying. I screamed
silently with them.
“It will take some getting used to, I imagine,” Eurus said serenely.
“But I have no doubt you’ll manage.”
Surges of raw energy were coursing through me like lightning. My
limbs filled with strength, my mind sharpening with stark and brutal clarity
as quickly as it had been overcome with sensations. Suddenly, the fog lifted
and I was no longer fatigued or melancholy, but humming with power.
Experimentally, I gave a command for the shadows on the battlefield
to leave their hosts. They did so immediately. I released them, and they
returned to the fray.
I tried a few more commands, and they responded with complete and
instant compliance. I could compel them with a thought. I could puppet
them all at once. Within seconds, I had adapted, the connections fusing in
my mind and heart and blood.
“Now do you see?” Eurus said, his mouth curving up at the edges.
“You belong here.”
Though his features hadn’t changed, his form had grown into godlike
proportions. He stood with his arms crossed, looking down on me even
though I sat high on the massive throne.
“Back to your true form, I see.”
“Indeed,” he replied. “Neb’s rules have no bearing outside the mortal
world, and I grow tired of that pathetic little body.
“You fought this, fought me, for no reason,” he said, emerald eyes
glittering with malicious exultation. “You were born to wear the Nightblood
crown.”
With a wave of his hand, a crown encircled my head. I reached up to
feel the hard, smooth surface. It was made of curving antlers or twisted
bones, the top reaching toward the sky in sharp points. My neck adjusted to
the extra weight, my shoulders squared, my body accepting it as my due.
Eurus’s words rang with truth. This felt right. Seamless. A connection
I was destined to make. A dark gift I could never relinquish, would never
want to. The sorrow and grief that had nearly crushed me such a short time
ago had been lifted away. I felt refreshed, reborn, made new.
“You are starting to understand,” Eurus said, wild excitement flowing
from him. “This is your purpose, your destiny.”
I was only listening with part of my attention. I was outside in the
battle, effortlessly asserting my will on the shadows. Without hesitation,
their thoughts shifted, and they targeted the Servants. The soldiers turned on
their own, killing each other savagely. One after the other, they cut each
other down in sprays of blood.
As I’d surmised, the shadows were an unbeatable force. In minutes,
the slaughter would be over.
“Do you really want to do that?” Eurus asked, his voice melodious,
compelling. “You draw strength from death, from bloodlust and pain. The
battle will be over too soon if the Minax choose sides.”
I paused, considering, and decided he was right. It would be better to
prolong the fight, to make the suffering last.
 “Each death empowers you more,” Eurus said, urging me on.
“Embrace your gift. We will rid this world of Frostbloods and Firebloods.”
He stared, unfocused, as if seeing images in his mind. “And then we’ll
harvest their very spirits. Make those proud Frostblood warriors and
Fireblood masters subservient to our will.”
Something about his words made me pause. “Frostbloods and
Firebloods? Why them?”
“Why not them?” he asked, anger sharpening his voice as his eyes
snapped to mine. “They bleed like other mortals. They die. And yet they are
revered above those with no gift. They are an abomination that must be
stamped out.”
I stared at him. “Is that why your Servants follow you?”
“They see the imbalance, the unfairness of your world. Strong gifts are
rewarded with wealth, power, and status. Those without gifts are left to rot.”
Confusion knit my brow. “You said I shouldn’t choose sides, that all
deaths make me more powerful. Now it sounds as if you want me to
choose.”
“At some point, Ruby, everyone has to take a side. Why destroy my
Servants? They would follow you faithfully, whereas Frostbloods and
Firebloods are only loyal to their own.”
“You have Frostbloods and Firebloods fighting on your side.”
He waved that away. “An unfortunate necessity. We can take care of
them once we’ve wiped out all the others.”
The battle raged on, but I no longer felt the bliss of it. Something was
clawing at my mind. “I don’t think I want to kill them all,” I said
uncertainly.
“Why?” Eurus snapped. “Even your own people didn’t protect you.”
I watched him curiously. “From your curse, you mean?”
“From Frostbloods! You can’t sympathize with them after what they
did to your mother. To your people. To you.”
Mother.
Unease stirred inside of me. What would she think of my actions, the
way I was using the shadows to kill and maim? She’d been a healer. She
would be devastated to see me now.
“I wouldn’t sympathize with the ones who raided villages or killed
Firebloods,” I said slowly. “But not all of them are like that.”
 “Your precious Arcus, for instance? He’s dead.”
A spear of fresh pain cut through the rich vortex of power that had
cloaked me. Memories of my past with Arcus rushed in, making me sick
with loss. Along with the pain was a jarring sense of disorientation, as if I
were wandering through dark tunnels of my dreams. I had taken a wrong
turn somewhere. The shadows hid my pain, but they also hid the truth.
It was either numbness or clarity. Painful memories or blank, empty
safety.
Given the choice, I would keep the memories, even if they brought me
pain. Choosing numbness was easier, but that didn’t make it better.
I opened my hand to check the crystal. The transparent gem had gone
dark, with just a tiny speck of light left in its center. I closed my palm over
it, and the gentle glow penetrated my dark thoughts.
A question formed, demanding an answer. “If I use my power to kill,
how am I any better than those who killed my mother?”
Eurus said with clear disgust, “You are limiting yourself to mortal
values. You are greater than that now.” His eyes took on a feverish glint.
“Together, we can decide what’s right and wrong. Who lives and dies. In
the game of creation, I have won. The other gods will look down and
breathe in the ashes of what they’ve lost. And you will share in my
triumph.”
I stared at him and felt as if I could see right through him. As if the
light pouring into my blood from the crystal had illuminated the truth.
“That’s your shameful secret, isn’t it? You didn’t create the Minax.
They aren’t living shadows. They’re lost spirits. You warped them and
forced them into the hearts of the living.”
He moved closer, his footsteps shaking the columns. “My siblings
added their gifts to the blood of mortals. What I did is no different.”
“It is entirely different!” I felt the pieces of myself reassembling, my
heart rushing with anger. “Your siblings gave, but you took. Firebloods and
Frostbloods retain their free will. In erasing free will, you made
abominations.”
“Is that how you think of yourself?” he asked with a brittle laugh. “An
abomination? Then perhaps I should eliminate you right now.”
“But then you wouldn’t be able to use me in your revenge.”
 His breath was a rising wind, sweeping around the room. “Now that I
know how to create Nightbloods, I can simply create more.”
I held his challenging stare, unwilling to back down even with a blink.
I doubted he’d discard me so blithely. Despite his bravado, he had no
guarantee his experiment would work a second time. I called his bluff. “If
you wanted to destroy me, I don’t have any illusions that I could stop you.”
The tension stretched taut. My chest tightened. The wind stole my
breath. I put a hand to my throat, my mouth open, but I didn’t look away.
Finally, he made a furious gesture, and the air returned to my lungs.
“Enough! Accept what is. You are bound to the throne. You cannot escape,
even in death. You will do my bidding because you have no choice but to
obey.”
The gale-force wind howled through the room, extinguishing the
torches, whipping my hair over my face, plunging us into a vast, echoing
void. The gloom provided one last chance to escape.
My temples throbbed as I struggled to stand. When my limbs cramped
and burned, I knew escape was hopeless. I couldn’t leave, couldn’t die, and
there was no way I could destroy a god.
All I could do was control the Minax.
I closed my eyes, blocking out the wind, the sounds of battle, the slam
of my pulse.
And called all those restless, hungry spirits to me.
The Minax—or rather, the tortured spirits—flew toward me in a rush. I
called them from the battlefield, from inside the Gate, from every corner of
the Obscurum, feeling each shadow as a presence in my mind.
They flowed through tunnels, through walls, into the throne room,
howling and screeching.
Dimly, I heard Eurus shouting. I blocked him out, tuning my thoughts
to the spirits. Lucina had said they would have to leave of their own free
will, so I would offer instead of command.
“Eurus will never let you go,” I told them. “But I will take your
darkness so you can go to the afterworld where you belong!”
I repeated the offer, making sure every last spirit accepted. A ferocious
wave of shadows arrowed into my heart. My rib cage ached, too small, full
to bursting, the way I used to feel whenever my fire spun out of control.
Instead of heat, black despair sliced into me and through me.
 Too agonized even to scream, I teetered on the brink of an abyss, the
pain and desolation waiting to swallow me whole. Only a slender tether of
memory held me back, brief flashes of random moments from my past.
I saw Mother smiling at me, her dark hair escaping its braid as she
ground herbs with a mortar and pestle, her smile lines radiating out from
her warm brown eyes.
Lucina, when I knew her as Grandmother, lit by firelight, her veined
hands moving as she spun a tale of the gods.
Arcus looking down at me with tenderness and love in our practice
area outside the abbey, wearing the crooked smile that made me want to
kiss him senseless.
Brother Thistle telling me he had faith in me just before I entered the
Obscurum, projecting his confidence that I could overcome any odds.
As the spirits tore through me, my Nightblood heart soaked up the
shadows, and light emerged on the other side. Luminescent spirits floated
away, free. I sensed their relief, felt their elation as they darted back toward
the Gate where instinct had been calling them throughout their long
imprisonment. Instead of hurling themselves against it, they passed through
as creatures of pure, golden radiance. I knew the exact moment each left the
Obscurum, my connection with them severed for all time.
It happened in minutes, a terrible wave of bleak darkness morphing
into a euphoria of incandescent hope that swelled and filled the room until
my vision faded white. Then, emptiness.
Finally, only one spirit remained. The fire Minax in my heart, which
had been trapped in the throne of Sud for a thousand years.
“You have to go, too,” I whispered, sensing its vulnerability for the
first time. “You can leave your darkness with me and ascend.”
I swallowed, my hands curling into fists. I had grown used to its
presence even if I had hated its possession, its hold over me. For a moment,
I felt its reluctance to leave me. Then, as it silently accepted my offer, I took
a breath and severed the tie between us.
It appeared to me as a golden figure, shining bright, a woman dressed
as a Sudesian commoner.
My companion waits for me, she said in my mind.
“The frost Minax was destroyed,” I said gently. I had forced my Minax
to destroy its twin when I first took it into my heart in Sudesia.
 Did not destroy, the spirit said. I took its darkness. Its light ascended.
And now I follow.
I closed my eyes as the woman’s spirit faded, joy bursting through me.
There was a sense of completeness, of everything being put back in order,
of rightness. It filled me with a hope so strong that I could even bear the
nightmare of emotions left inside of me.
In my palm, the crystal glowed bright, the only light in the cavernous
room.
I looked up, grinning with triumph.
My eyes met those of a furious god.
 THIRTY-SEVEN

BLACK RAGE CONTORTED EURUS’S features into a violent, animalistic

mask. I laced my hands together to hide that I was shaking with a bone-
deep terror. We stared at each other as the seconds crept by, the howl of the
wind and my sharp breaths the only sounds.
I expected his voice to shake the cavern, but when he spoke, it was in a
bloodcurdling whisper. “I could kill you, of course, but no.” His eyes
glowed brighter green, a malicious smile crawling across his face. “You will
spend your eternity here.”
Between one blink and the next, I found myself on a floor of uneven
gray stones grimed with dirt. Dim light fell over a filthy bed of straw, a
bucket, and metal bars stretching to the slime-coated ceiling. I inhaled. The
smells of mold, sweat, fear, and waste made me gag. I suddenly knew
exactly where I was.
My old cell in Blackcreek Prison.
“No!” I screamed, grasping the bars. They felt cold under my hand.
They felt real. “No, no! Let me out!”
“Eternity is a very long time, Ruby,” Eurus said, his voice clear,
though I couldn’t see him. “You should have thought of that before you
defied me.”
“No! Let me out!” I couldn’t bear this, couldn’t keep myself together.
Of all the outcomes I’d imagined, this hadn’t been one. “Please!”
His mocking laughter coiled through the prison, making the other
inmates groan and shift restlessly in their cells.
“Eternity.” His whisper rolled like thunder before fading into silence.
I fell to my knees. All that despair in my heart. And now this. I sensed
my mind fracturing, splitting apart, the threads of reason unraveling. I put
my forehead to the bars, near defeat.
“Ruby.”
Disbelief froze my breath. Had I lost my mind already?
“It can’t be,” I whispered.
 I turned slowly. A being made of light stood nearby in my cell. A
golden spirit, just like the ones I’d released.
Only this was Arcus.
Tears rolled down my face, my breaths coming in gasps. He was
wearing the same thing he’d been wearing when he died, though it looked
transparent and golden now.
I sobbed out a breath and shoved to my feet, reached out, hesitated. He
put a finger out to touch mine. There was a tiny spark, like the crackle of
feeling that raises neck hairs during a lightning storm.
“How?” I asked brokenly.
“It took me a while to find you.” His familiar, crooked smile lit his
eyes. His hair fell over his forehead as if he were solid, and I wanted so
badly to brush it back.
“You were in the Obscurum. Because anyone who is near a Minax
when…” My throat closed. I couldn’t say “when they die.” I just couldn’t.
His smile faded, his eyes solemn. “After Eurus…” He grimaced rather
than completing the thought. “I found myself floating over my own body,
but no one could see me. I watched as Lucina healed my wounds. I heard
you crying.” His image dimmed, then flared, as if strong emotions rippled
through him. “It tore me up that I couldn’t comfort you. But no matter how
hard I tried, I couldn’t return to my body.”
His pain was so clear, I hurt with him. “It’s all right,” I whispered, not
wanting him to feel guilty for something he couldn’t help.
“As time passed, my consciousness fractured. It’s hard to describe. I
was drawn to the sunlight, and yet I felt as if something anchored me. I
have no clear memories until I had a strong feeling that you needed help. I
entered the Obscurum through the rift, but I was lost in dark tunnels at first.
When you summoned the spirits, I was drawn to you.”
“I’m glad you”—I had to stop and swallow past the thickness in my
throat—“found me.”
“I’ll always answer your call, Ruby.”
I closed my eyes, overcome by the tenderness in his voice. “But… but
you didn’t leave with the others.” I could hardly bear to say this, but I had
to. “You should have gone. You should go now. Go through the Gate and to
the afterworld.” I was having trouble speaking, my chest convulsing as I
tried to stifle sobs. My voice faded to a whisper. “I’ll follow you when I
can.”
If I ever could. Eternity is a long time.…
His lips curved up softly. “It’s not time for that, not for a long while
yet. We have work to do.”
“What can I do?” I asked, wiping my cheeks. “Do you know a way out
of here?”
“Close your eyes, Ruby. Take a breath.”
I did, though it took a couple of tries before I could inhale fully.
“Where are you right now?” he asked, shaking his head when my eyes
popped open. “Keep them closed. What do your other senses tell you?”
I nodded, understanding. It reminded me a bit of the lessons Arcus had
given me on sensing the cold of a nearby Frostblood—him—when he’d
first trained me at the abbey.
The moans and mutterings of the other prisoners quieted into silence.
The air smelled stale, tinged with a hint of torch smoke, but not foul.
“Not… not Blackcreek Prison.”
I opened my eyes, but found myself once again in the cell. “No! I’m
still here!”
“Ruby.” Arcus stepped closer. “He is the god of tricks and lies. Close
your eyes again.”
When my eyes were closed, Arcus said, “See things as they are. See
past the darkness.”
I opened my eyes again and saw the cell. I took a calming breath and
stared at Arcus, letting my eyes lose focus, allowing his golden shimmer to
fill my vision. The edges of the cell vanished.
We were back in the throne room. I sat on the night throne, and Arcus
stood on the dais next to me. I exhaled in relief.
“Very good,” he said with a smile. “You’re seeing what’s real.”
“The illusions don’t work on you?” I looked at his hand, so near mine,
and wished I could hold it.
“No. And I don’t think he can see or hear me.”
“How? How are you doing this?”
“Later. For now, you have to get away from here.”
I tried again to stand, muscles bunching, but was held back by
invisible bands. “I can’t leave the throne.”
 “Another one of his lies.”
I struggled, fought, pushed against the cold stone. “I can’t!”
Suddenly, Eurus appeared in front of the throne. “Out already? I
thought it would take at least a century before you found your way out.” He
regarded me with narrowed eyes. “Perhaps something a little more…
immersive.”
I blinked and found myself in a snowy village under a dark sky.
Buildings burned, sending up clouds of sparks and acrid smoke. Hoots and
hollers echoed through the night as soldiers stamped through the snow.
“Oh no!” I shouted, closing my eyes. But the orange light of torches
and burning buildings glowed behind my eyes. I couldn’t escape. “No!”
When I opened my eyes, my mother stood before me, her back to me,
body trembling as she tried to protect me from the soldiers. The captain
stepped forward, drew his sword.
“No! No!” I screamed, trying to rush forward, my body paralyzed by
fear. “You’re dead!” I shouted at Captain Drake. “I killed you!”
The sandy-haired soldier smiled at me and raised his sword over my
mother. Despair ate me from within, unraveling my thoughts, pulling me
into pieces.
“Take me instead!” I cried.
“Ruby.” Arcus’s voice broke through the chaos. “Look at me.”
I turned to find him next to me.
“Look only at me,” he said.
“But Mother!”
“Is not real. This is not real. It happened long ago.”
The soldiers were closing in. I could smell the smoke, feel the snow
against my calves above the too-short boots I’d worn that night. I reached
out and touched Mother’s shoulder, tried desperately to pull her to me, to
protect her.
“Oh gods, it’s real, it’s real, it’s real,” I chanted. “Mother! Mother!”
“Not. Real,” Arcus said firmly. “Look only at me.”
I forced my eyes to him. He was a haven of peace in the horror around
me.
“Deep breaths. Look only at me.”
My vision narrowed to him, cutting out the flames, the shouts. The
edges of the village started to dissolve. I took a deep breath. The smoke and
fire vanished.
After another few seconds, I was back in the throne room, Arcus’s
spirit at my side.
I sobbed into my hands, taking shuddering, wracking breaths. The
memory made everything hurt, ripping open all the half-healed wounds,
making me feel small and vulnerable and raw.
I was glad I hadn’t been alone when I had to relive that. And I wasn’t
alone now. I felt a crackle of energy move over my hair, my shoulder, my
fingers.
“It’s all right, love,” Arcus murmured, adding words of comfort that
soothed. “Take your time.”
Finally, I scrubbed my face with my hands and sighed, straightening
my shoulders with a nod.
“When you’re ready,” he said softly, “stand up.”
“Right.” I nodded. Tightening every muscle, I tried to surge to my feet.
But the throne held me down, no matter how I pulled against it. After a
minute of heaving and twitching, I smacked my palms against the seat,
groaning in frustration.
Eurus appeared again. One moment he wasn’t there, the next he was,
his head tilted to the side, eyes narrowed.
“Let me make this very clear to you, Ruby,” he said impatiently, his
voice booming, rebounding from the stone walls. “I am a god. You are a
mortal. Your job is to beseech and obey. My job is to deny and to punish.
You outlived your usefulness when you released my Minax. You have no
purpose now but in suffering, which pleases me, so you will stay in the
place where I put you next, or you will die. The moment you leave, I’ll kill
you. Is that clear enough?”
“Ruby, listen,” Arcus said, speaking rapidly. I was careful not to look
at him. “The moment you shake free of whatever illusion you’re in, you
have to stand up from the throne. You have to. You can do this. Believe it.”
“I don’t know,” I replied honestly, fear rising up to choke me.
“Be gone,” Eurus said with a flick of his hand.
In a blink, I stood with the Fireblood masters on the ramparts above
the lava field on the Isle of Night, the battle spread out below. Prince Eiko’s
body was crumpled in a heap on the rock some feet away, as if it had just
been discarded, and one of the Frostblood generals below had drawn back
his sword arm.
Preparing to commit murder.
Even though I knew that this was just a memory, it was as vivid as if it
were happening. The scents, the sounds, the sick feeling in my gut. “No, no.
I can’t see this again.”
“Watch,” Eurus’s voice commanded from somewhere unseen. “Watch
or die.”
The general’s arm pushed forward, his sword stabbing Arcus in the
stomach. I doubled over, my arms pressed to my midsection, the despair
roiling up to engulf me.
“Look at me, Ruby!” Arcus ordered in a commanding tone. “Over
here! Not down there. Here!”
I forced my chin up, made my gaze follow his voice. He stood next to
me, his golden light brushing the rocky outcropping with gold.
He held out his hand. “When this illusion fades, you have to get up
from the throne. You are not bound to it. It is not binding you. The bond
itself is an illusion. You are free. You are like those spirits trying to escape,
only trapped by the limitations of their beliefs. Reach for my hand.”
I stretched toward him. I wiggled my fingers, extended my arm as far
as I could. He was just out of reach.
“That’s it,” he encouraged. “I’m so close. Just a little farther. Grab my
hand.”
“I can’t reach.”
“Yes, you can. Fight! Fight with all the fire you’ve always had in your
heart.”
I panted, frantic with the need to move. “I don’t have it anymore.”
“It’s still there, Ruby!” he shouted. “It’s you. You are not your fire.
You are not your darkness or your light. You have an unconquerable spirit,
determination, compassion. You bring people together. You are mine and I
am yours, and it has nothing to do with fire or ice. Even death couldn’t
change that.”
I sobbed, reaching harder.
“Reach!” he shouted as my muscles started to shake, strength waning.
“Lunge for me. For Tempus’s sake, Ruby, don’t you dare give up!”
 The hills began to shimmer. The image of the battle started to fade.
When the illusion disappeared, Eurus would kill me.
My muscles strained as Eurus’s massive form materialized. The throne
room came into view, the crystal in my fist still pulsing with light.
Eurus watched me stretching out, reaching desperately for… nothing
that he could see. He laughed. “I told you, you cannot leave the throne, not
until you die. And even then, your spirit will become the first in a new crop
of Minax. A fitting fate considering what you’ve done.”
He smiled wider as I stared at him.
“Oh yes,” he said in a sweetly poisonous tone. “You will be the seed,
and from you, I’ll make another, and another. You’ll be the start of my new
breed, my new army. All your petty defiance was for nothing.”
He lifted his fist and held it above my head, his malevolent green eyes
peering down at me, glowing like a cat’s in the dark. “You will never escape
me.”
For a few seconds, I felt nothing but panic. The throne held me. I
couldn’t move, couldn’t move, couldn’t move. The darkness would drag me
down. I could never escape.
And then Arcus’s voice shouted, “Now!”
Eurus’s fist descended, the air rushing toward me, blowing my hair
back with its force. There was no question it would be a death blow.
A tiny moment of choice.
So short, less than a heartbeat.
I could hold on to the darkness, or I could follow Arcus’s light.
I made the choice.
 THIRTY-EIGHT

ARCUS STAYED CLOSE, AND WE RACED through the tunnels to the Gate.
“This will work,” I said, more to myself than him.
We’d made the plan while fleeing a furious god, so it wasn’t
impossible that there were some flaws in the premise—the assumption that
I could use Eurus’s darkness to make an illusion of my own.
The idea had started to take shape when I’d sat on the throne. Eurus
must have had to give the spirits some of his own power to twist them into
his Minax. When I was releasing the spirits, I took their darkness, but I’d
also absorbed residual energy from each—the power of a god. A minuscule
amount from each spirit, but it added up. And now I could use it.
Standing in the center of the cavernous space, I used darkness much
the way I would have used fire, my mind shaping its form and flow. I made
a scene in my head, paying attention to detail, creating the illusion of walls
to obscure the room, particularly the Gate.
Cover the Gate with darkness, I told myself. Hide it so not even the
tiniest glimmer shows through.
“Is the light all covered?” I asked Arcus, my head splitting with the
effort of focusing my thoughts.
“I can’t see any,” he assured me. “Remember to leave your darkness
behind, and you’ll be able to get through the Gate.”
“Go!” I whispered urgently, my heart breaking. “I love you.”
“This isn’t good-bye,” Arcus reassured me in a low, soothing voice.
“We will be together again. I love you, too, Ruby. Always. Be safe.”
He paused. I felt his longing to protect me, his reluctance to leave. He
brushed my hands with his, the soft lightning passing between us for a
second, and then he disappeared.
Eurus appeared at the entrance to the cavern in that moment. “You are
a plague,” he raged, bounding toward me. “I will end you now, and your
spirit will pay!”
Wind roared from his direction, battering against me, pushing me.
 I let it back me toward the threshold until I felt the Gate’s hum, then
closed my eyes.
Darkness, I release you. I release all of you. Every stain. Every
smudge. Every shadow.
The moment I sensed the last tendrils of darkness leave my body, I
leaped. I burst through the Gate and tumbled to the ground outside, the cold
air washing over me in an invigorating rush.
The sounds of battle still rent the air, carrying from the lava field.
Night had fallen, and the area around the Gate was dark.
Eurus followed a second later, his footsteps rumbling the ground.
I swallowed, gathering my courage. Here was the worst part.
Neb’s law said that her children couldn’t interfere in the mortal world
while in god form or by using their divine powers. Merely being here in his
true form might not be enough to violate the law.
So I had to let him “interfere,” meaning I had to let him hurt me. And
one blow could kill me.
I took a shaky breath as he drew back a massive foot. At the last
second, I must have dodged. Instead of annihilating me, his kick connected
with my left arm, cracking bone. I spun in the air, landing hard, rolling, my
face and body punished by the hard ground, my arm on fire with pain. I
came to rest on my back, blinking hard. My vision doubled, making the
stars swim overhead, sinuous and beckoning, as if inviting me into their
confidence. Finally, they came to a rest, flickering like candles. Reassuring
beacons in the dark, whispering of infinity.
But my suffering would not be eternal. I had escaped the throne,
escaped what Eurus had claimed was my destiny. No matter what happened
now, I had done that.
“I understand the word eternity perfectly,” I said, hoping he could hear
my breathless, pain-filled voice. “That’s how long you’ll live in exile.”
Eurus spun around, saw the Gate—that he was on the wrong side of it
—and howled his rage in a blast that shook the hills and made the
volcanoes tremble and boil. The shudders from the ground ran through my
body in an aching wave, but I perceived the pain distantly as I stared up at
the sky, my body boneless with a deep sense of relief.
“Neb,” I said to the stars. “Your son has been a naughty boy.”
 THIRTY-NINE

A TERRIBLE PAUSE FOLLOWED. EURUS’S eyes fell on me where I lay

helpless on the ground. I struggled to sit up, holding my shattered arm with
my opposite hand, nearly passing out from the pain. He lunged toward me.
Then the air filled with the scents of smoke and evergreen and hibiscus
and rich spices I had no name for. A vortex picked up pebbles and grit and
swirled them into a twirling mass of debris, blocking out the stars. Cries
rose up from the battlefield as the winds rose to screaming pitch. Then a
series of impacts crashed into the ground, sending a shock wave over the
island. The volcanoes rumbled in agitation.
The wind calmed. I rubbed the grit from my eyes, and awe froze my
breath.
Four immense figures stood before us.
The gods had arrived.
They towered higher than the Gate, as tall as the surrounding cliffs.
Sud wore gold-plated armor with flames dancing sinuously overtop. Fors
was similarly attired, his silver armor covered in ice crystals, his shoulders
and arms bristling with icicles. Cirrus wore leather arm guards and calf
boots that matched the leather strings tying off her braids. A white gown
ended just above her knees, and light shone from her eyes, illuminating the
scene.
Eurus recovered quickly, holding up his palms. “Brother, sisters,
before you jump to conclusions—”
Cirrus stepped toward him, fist drawn back then plowing forward,
covered in light. It connected with Eurus’s jaw in a blinding flash, sending
him soaring across the clearing. He crashed into the cliffside and landed in a
heap at its base.
“That is for tricking me into trapping the spirits!” she railed.
“I didn’t break the law!” he shouted, adjusting his jaw with one hand
as he staggered to his feet. He made a rapid gesture, and a wall of darkness
rose up to hide him. “Listen to me!”
 “Do not make this difficult,” Fors said in his booming voice. He turned
his head to look at his twin. “Then again, we haven’t had a good fight in a
long while.”
“Agreed, brother,” Sud added. “Go ahead,” she called to Eurus. “Make
this as difficult as you like.”
She plucked a bow from her back, fitting an arrow of fire to the string
and loosing it. A howl rose from behind the wall of night. Fors broke an
icicle from his arm and hurled it like a javelin through the shadows. Eurus
cried out again.
Cirrus looked at Fors. “Your aim remains true, brother.”
“Thank you,” the god of the north wind replied with a slight bow.
“If you refuse to see reason, I will take your sight!” Eurus said from
behind his shield of darkness. It spread until it devoured everything in a
black wave.
When the darkness lifted, Eurus was punching Fors, then Cirrus, who
reeled back and crashed into the cliffs. Sud slashed at him with fiery hands,
lighting his black clothes on fire. He kicked her in the stomach, sending her
flying into the Gate.
Everyone watched as the membrane of light shuddered and held.
“Fine craftsmanship on that Gate,” Fors said admiringly.
“Thank you,” said the goddess of the west wind.
Cirrus leaped to her feet and clapped Eurus on either side of his head
with discs of light. He shouted and punched, but she kicked him before he
could connect. Fors had coated the ground with ice, and Eurus slid and
crashed into another cliff, making it quake and rumble with an avalanche.
He grabbed boulders and used wind to hurl them at his siblings. Sud, Fors,
and Cirrus each made a shield out of their element—fire, ice, light—and
blocked the attacks.
One boulder caught Sud on the cheek, spinning her off balance. She
crashed to her knees, eyes narrowed, then pulled lava from the earth,
sending it spinning in tentacles overhead and crashing down on Eurus. He
screamed and covered the scene in darkness again. Grunts and yelps rose
from the black void. Then a ball of Cirrus’s light exploded, obliterating the
dark.
As the fight raged on, I inched away, searching for cover. The rocks
had landed too close for comfort. Cirrus’s light kept whitening my vision,
robbing me of sight. My arm throbbed with every heartbeat. When the
ground rumbled with another fallen god, the shock ran through my body,
jostling my broken bone. I couldn’t hold back an agonized cry.
Cradling my arm, I wobbled to my feet and made the arduous journey
back toward the ramparts that separated the Gate from the battlefield. I
fought my way to the top, shivering in the frigid wind. As the carnage came
into view, I fought the spasms in my stomach that made me want to retch.
So many dead. How many of them had I killed when I’d allowed the Minax
free rein, or when I’d sat on the throne?
I fell to my knees, sick with guilt and pain. Blood, bodies, gore. I had
contributed to this massacre, even allowing the spirits to kill people on our
own side when I could have stopped them.
What was worse, the fighting had continued during my time in the
Obscurum, and even though immortal gods and goddesses were brawling
nearby, the Servants were still making headway into our ranks.
Things looked hopeless. Our small numbers had worked a miracle
holding off the enemy even this long. The last barrier had fallen. The
fiercest fighting was right below me, in front of the pass. If and when it fell,
the Servants would swarm and kill us all.
I might have foiled Eurus’s plan to use the Minax, but I still didn’t
want to die. I didn’t want all my friends to die. I was scanning wildly, not
even realizing who I was searching for until my eyes finally settled on Kai.
He was slashing down enemies with jets of bright flame. His clothes were
burned, his shield gone, but he fought like a wild thing.
“Thank Sud,” I muttered, realizing with a sense of vertigo that the
goddess was right there, near the Gate. Another crash resounded from that
direction, another avalanche of rocks.
My good hand curled into a fist against my injured forearm. If only
they could help us! Instead, they played at war with Eurus. With three
against one, they could have subdued him by now.
Not that it would matter. They would obey Neb’s law. Even if it meant
letting us all die.
Shouts drew my attention to the farthest reaches of the lava field
toward the path to the beach. A flare of fire went up. I sucked in a breath.
It was too dark to see everything clearly, though streams of distant fire
partially illuminated the scene in flashes. Our forces couldn’t still be
fighting that far off, could they?
More flares lit the night. Streams of fire sent toward the sky in a spiral
pattern I knew was familiar but couldn’t place. What did the signal mean?
The pattern was lighting up all over, interlocking streams of flame,
illuminating the battlefield. As recognition hit, I closed my eyes on a wave
of relief.
The Fire Queen had arrived.
Eurus had lied about blowing their fleets off course. The god of tricks
and lies! How could I have forgotten?
The Sudesian flags advanced, snapping proudly in the wind. Streams
of flame continued to shoot into the air, illuminating other soldiers in
altogether different armor. Streams of blue shimmered from their hands.
“Thank Fors,” I whispered, smiling at myself for saying such a strange
thing.
The Frostblood army closed in from the flanks, pummeling the enemy
with sleet, hail, ice, and frost. Fireblood soldiers kept the sky illuminated
and pushed out flame at escaping enemies.
Then lava rose from the earth in a geyser, dead center of the enemy’s
forces, pouring out death. I squinted and saw her at the head of the
Fireblood forces, the only person who could possibly do that.
Queen Nalani, her arms upraised, her gilded armor reflecting flames.
I forgot my pain. Though my heart had no fire, it sang with hope.
And was that…? Illumined by a flare of light, I saw Liddy and her
pirates carving a brutal path with cutlasses, their hulking figures bearing
down on the enemy with merciless glee, their smiles shining in the firelight.
In minutes, the enemy’s ranks had broken. The Servants scattered in all
directions, seeking refuge in the hills. The Frostblood army moved in to cut
off their escape.
The relief was overwhelming. I was ready to drop, but I had to go back
to the Gate to see how the battle of the gods—
“Ruby.”
My body jerked as if I’d been struck by lightning. The world tilted in a
slow roll as I looked up and saw a familiar, broad-shouldered figure that I
would know anywhere, even in sleep or death.
Arcus stood next to me.
One of Eurus’s tricks, sent to taunt me. Not real not real…
 “Gods, you look so real,” I whispered. His face lit with a smile, and
my heart dropped out of my chest.
“Well?” he said softly, holding out his arms, but it wasn’t until he
added, “Get over here, Lady Firebrand,” that I knew for sure.
Not his luminescent spirit but him, really him. I let out a cry and my
knees nearly gave out as I tried to take a step. My limbs had turned to water.
I blinked to clear my vision, drinking in his face, his solid figure, hale
and healthy and real and alive. Wrenching sobs tore through me that I was
helpless to stop.
Laughing, he took a step closer, and I threw myself into his arms,
unable to feel an ounce of pain from my injuries.
He enveloped me in that strong, comforting cold, his chest still
rumbling with laughter. He stared down at me, stroking the hair from my
cheeks with a tender, butterfly touch. Giddy, I stared back, unable to control
the shaking of my body any more than I could control the fact that I was
smiling and sobbing at the same time.
He looked completely recovered.
“How?” I gasped, swallowing when a fresh wave of tears filled my
head.
“Lucina’s healing closed my wounds,” he said gently. “Remember?”
I shook violently as I feathered my fingertips over his cheeks in
disbelief, reassuring myself he was real and whole.
Nothing had ever felt so good.
I would never let him go again.
“But your spirit?” I asked.
“Lucina persuaded Cirrus to reunite my spirit with my body. She said
it didn’t break Neb’s law, merely reversed one of Eurus’s acts of
interference. And then she said I deserved a reward since I’m the child of
light—”
“You are?”
“Lucina thinks so. She hinted as much on the ship. She obviously
wasn’t sure, but I think she wanted me to be prepared just in case. Though I
wish she’d told me she planned to send you into the Obscurum.” He
scowled.
It made complete sense. Why hadn’t I seen it before? He’d always
resisted the Minax. His spirit was pure light. He’d saved me from the
darkness of Eurus’s illusions. “If Lucina thinks you are, why don’t you
believe it?”
“I don’t know. I’d sense it somehow, wouldn’t I? I don’t feel all that
special.”
“Neither do I!”
“Well, you are.” He placed a kiss on my forehead. “Also, Brother
Thistle disagrees with Lucina.” He chuckled.
“How dare he disagree with Sage.”
“He’s still stuck on the prophecies of Dru. She predicted it would be a
Fireblood who destroys the darkness forever. And something about a storm
that blew in from the west on the day the child of light was born. Brother
Thistle went on about it, but no one was paying much attention anymore.
He chattered like an excited child from the moment the gods beat Eurus;
they sent him headfirst through the Gate and sealed it up behind him. It was
a spectacular sight. I don’t know if Brother Thistle will ever calm down.”
“I’m glad Eurus was banished.” He deserved to languish in that dark
place where he’d tried to trap me. I shivered as the wind brushed my hair
across my face. Pushing it back and shoving away the memories of the
Obscurum, I asked, “So Brother Thistle still thinks I’m the child of light?”
Smiling, he nodded. “And so do I.”
It was my turn to scowl. “But I’m clearly the child of darkness.”
“Does it matter? Maybe you’re both. Maybe we’re all both. You may
have been able to host the Minax, but that doesn’t make your spirit more
corrupt than mine or anyone else’s. You used your connection to the
shadows to free trapped souls. You saved us all.”
“And you saved me,” I whispered. He pulled me close, and despite the
freezing temperature, I didn’t feel so cold anymore. “For the record, I think
Dru was an attention-hungry fraud. She made a million predictions. Some
of them were bound to come true.”
“Please don’t say that to Brother Thistle. In the state of agitation he’s
in, he’s likely to challenge you to a fight.”
“I would beat him,” I said with a smirk until memory hit. “Oh. I don’t
have my fire anymore.” The memory caught me off guard, blindsiding me
with a staggering sense of loss. It was painful to even think about living
without my gift. It was one thing to give it up when the odds were so steep,
I hadn’t expected to survive long. Carrying on without it was a different
matter altogether.
“I’m sorry, Ruby.” His voice dropped to a soft murmur. “I sensed it as
soon as I touched you. You gave it up like your mother did?”
I nodded and he held me close, giving comfort without words. “You’ll
make it through this. I’ll be there with you. We’ll figure it out together.”
I squeezed him tight to show my gratitude and trust. I would make it
through this. I believed him. I believed in myself. I would explore this new
identity, focusing on what I’d gained rather than what I’d lost.
“So Cirrus finally agreed to help your spirit?” I asked, leaning back to
look up at him.
“She did. I may have to build a temple or two to show my gratitude.”
“We’ll build them all over the kingdom!”
He grinned and kissed my fingers. “We?”
“Always.” My voice was thready, barely heard over the cheers of
victory from our forces below.
“I’m holding you to that,” he said.
I laughed shakily, the joy overwhelming. “I’m so… so…” I broke off,
letting tears stream down my face unchecked as I cradled his jaw in my
hand. “So glad you came back to me.”
His brow rose teasingly, but his eyes sparkled with moisture, too. He
blinked it away, saying deadpan, “I knew you liked my body, but… I didn’t
realize how much.”
A hoarse chuckle escaped my throat, and I tightened my grip on his
cheek, pulling him closer. “You are so lucky I don’t have my fire right
now.”
He placed a soft kiss on my lips.
“I love you,” I said. “I love you so much. Don’t ever leave me again.”
“I love you so much, Ruby. And don’t you ever leave me again.”
He bent his head toward me, and I pulled him close, needing to feel the
solid reality of him, to inhale his familiar scent. Our tears mixed, cold on
our cheeks.
Finally, he pulled back and dashed a hand across his face, his eyes
dancing with happiness as we both stared at each other as if we’d just
pulled off the greatest coup in history. This was the kind of radiant bliss that
filled me with sunlight. A profound contentment settled into my heart. It
was fire and ice and light and dark and all the colors from red to gray, and
with them, the sure knowledge that I could build a life I wanted, a life I
chose, even if I couldn’t always control what happened. The future might
hold sadness and loss, but it would also hold joy. And I knew that for
certain, with no shadowy doubts or fears.
Finally, he glanced down at the battle, surveying the scene. “I see my
forces have arrived. I should go help.”
“No!” I snagged the collar of his tunic in my fist. “You are not risking
your life again for a very, very long time. Maybe never. I mean it, Arcus!”
He smiled crookedly, which pulled the scar on his lip in that way that
made my heart clench. “Only if you make me the same promise, Lady
Firebrand.”
 FORTY

OVER THE NEXT FEW DAYS, THOSE who were healthy enough boarded
ships and left. The captured soldiers were kept under guard in their own
camp, and would eventually face judgment in their respective kingdoms.
We set up healing tents for the wounded in the lee of a curving cliff
with an overhang, the closest thing in the area to a large cave. The weather
remained dry, and the wind stayed calm, which seemed like a rather
deliberate favor, considering.
Every once in a while, though, a harsh gust would come screaming in
from the east, kicking up dirt and rocks before fading into a whispering
breeze that sounded as if it were muttering threats.
Eurus was a sore loser.
Lucina and Brother Thistle had seen the full battle of the gods, which
had ended in a screaming, thrashing Eurus being tossed through the Gate by
his siblings. With some assistance, Cirrus had then modified the opening. It
now had layers of lava and ice as well as light. Fors had declared that he
hadn’t enjoyed himself so much in at least a millennium. Maybe two.
Eurus was sentenced to sit on the night throne he had created,
presiding over an empty underground kingdom. His exile would last for as
long as the stars shone in the sky. I hoped he still liked the word eternity
after a few thousand years.
Brother Thistle said that after Cirrus had shrunk down to mortal size
and assisted Arcus’s spirit back into his body, Lucina had transformed into
the young and beautiful Sage and thanked Cirrus with a kiss. A long, rather
passionate kiss that did dance on the edge of breaking Neb’s law about
mortal interference. Not that anyone was going to tell.
Brother Thistle and I figured there was much more to Lucina’s powers
than we would ever know. After a thousand years or so of life, he had
assumed she would ascend to the afterworld now that the Minax were all
gone, but she’d told him there were other matters she needed to take care of
first.
 At dawn on solstice, she took care of one item: my broken arm. She
used sunlight to heal me completely.
Lucina also helped in the healing tents, working miracles during the
daylight hours. I assisted the other healers on lesser injuries, rubbing salve
on wounds, bandaging, and offering solace.
Many soldiers had died, and the guilt over my part in that would
always eat at me. The worse I felt, the harder I worked, every bit of
discomfort and exhaustion a form of penance.
“You’re doing it again,” Arcus said, his cold hand sliding under my
braid to settle on my nape.
I straightened from checking a soldier’s bandage, assuring her that her
wound was healing well before I turned away.
“Doing what?” I asked, rubbing at the ache in my back.
“Ruminating. Dwelling on your actions. Indulging in guilty thoughts.”
“I’d hardly call it indulging. It’s not enjoyable,” I said with a bit of
annoyance. He kept trying to tell me that no one could have done any
differently, and I’d coped better than most would have in that situation. I
wasn’t ready to accept that.
I stopped and turned to him, letting the ordered chaos of the healing
tent ebb and flow around us. “Anyway, how do you always know when I’m
upset?”
My eyes drank in the sight of him, something I’d decided never to take
for granted again. He was dressed in a simple but finely tailored gray
doublet and dark trousers with black boots. Of course he didn’t seem to feel
the cold that plagued me every second of every day.
I had never realized how much my gift had kept me warm. I was
wrapped in several layers of wool and furs, borrowed from here and there,
and still I shivered. Since the day of the battle, Arcus had begun practicing
warming his body temperature so he could still touch and kiss me,
something that required stolen moments of experimentation several times a
day.
“I don’t know,” he said thoughtfully. “I just do. I sense it. I can be on
the beach helping load a ship and I know the exact moment when you start
feeling self-doubt or shame. And then I can do nothing else but come here
and find you and try to make you feel better.”
 He bent and put his lips to mine, the jolt of his touch zinging through
me in pleasurable waves. At first, his lips were cold, but within seconds,
they were as warm as mine.
“You’re getting very good at that,” I breathed between kisses.
“It requires further practice,” he said, his arms drawing me closer.
“Extensive research.”
“I’m willing, but only if you limit your research to me.”
He smiled against my lips. “I’ll give it due consideration.”
I bit him gently. He laughed.
A throat cleared at the door of the tent. We both looked up.
Kai wore a long-suffering look. “You are so predictable. Is there
nowhere you can do that privately?”
“Did you seek us out just to chastise us?” I asked.
“No, we were summoned,” Kai replied. “We, meaning me, and both of
you.”
“I was summoned?” Arcus said with an arrogant lift of his brows. He
was, after all, a king.
Kai showed no sign of being overly impressed. “Yes. Queen Nalani’s
tent. Now. I expect we will either receive a gift in thanks for returning her
husband to her, or she means to browbeat us into doing her bidding.” He
gave me a significant look, the meaning something along the lines of
prepare yourself for a fight.
Kai and I hadn’t exactly told the queen that we wouldn’t be marrying.
Not each other, at any rate. Liddy had other ideas when it came to Kai.
After accidentally discovering the truth when she spotted me kissing Arcus,
Liddy had continued to press her suit right up until her ships had sailed
away. Her broken heart was somewhat soothed by piles of coin from both
the grateful Frost King and Fire Queen.
Arcus’s hand squeezed mine tight. “Does he mean what I think he
means?”
I squeezed back reassuringly. “I’m sure she just wants to thank us.”
But I wasn’t sure of anything when it came to the unpredictable Fire
Queen.
Queen Nalani’s tent was richly appointed, with layers of colorful rugs
warming the floor and vibrant tapestries blocking drafts in the tent walls. A
brass lantern hung from a metal stand, casting warm light on the wooden
bed, dresser, chest, and armoire, which she must have brought from
Sudesia.
My eyes went to Prince Eiko, whose tall, lanky form was stretched out
on the bed covered in quilts as he slept. When I had directed the Sudesian
healers to where Eurus had left Prince Eiko’s body on the rock near the
ramparts, I wasn’t sure if he was still alive. Fortunately for him and for the
queen who loved him, he had been. He had little memory of his possession
by Eurus, but what he did remember disturbed him greatly. He rested most
of the time, and Lucina came every day to check on him and give him a
dose of light.
“Your Majesty.” I curtsied low, which always felt strange when I was
wearing trousers. I wondered if I would ever truly feel as if she were my
aunt as well as my queen. “You wished to see us?”
“Indeed,” she said. Her dark hair was braided and flowed over one
shoulder. She wore a thicker, quilted version of the masters’ robes, the
vermilion color complementing her rich skin tone. “Please come in.”
Arcus bowed and entered, followed by Kai. There were two chairs, so
I sat in one, and Kai sat in the other. Arcus shot me a look of amused
annoyance at the way the prince showed him no deference and went to
stand behind my chair. I tensed, wondering if he’d make a statement by
placing his hands on my shoulders, but he didn’t. I wasn’t sure if I was
relieved or disappointed.
The queen clasped her hands together in her lap, her dark eyes
snapping. “I am very glad to see you all well after the battle. And I want to
thank you again for helping free my husband from that…” Her words faded.
“I refuse to refer to him as a god. That trickster.”
I relaxed a bit knowing she’d called us here to thank us. “It really
wasn’t anything we did,” I felt obligated to admit. “Eurus finally left him
when he had no use for him anymore.”
The queen reached out and touched Prince Eiko’s arm as he slept, as if
needing to reassure herself he was still there.
“You are too humble, Ruby. You have my eternal gratitude,” she said
with quiet gravity. “Which is why I am in such a forgiving state of mind.”
“Forgiving?” I asked.
She looked at me and then Kai in a calculating way. “Unless I am
mistaken, and no forgiveness is required? I was under the impression that
you had both broken your vows to me. Prince Kai, do you intend to marry
my niece?”
He straightened in his chair. “I regret to say no, Your Majesty.”
“You have broken a vow, which was also the third test in your
Fireblood trials. Under Sudesian law, you should be stripped of your title of
Fireblood master, which would also mean the loss of your newly restored
island.”
Kai sucked in a breath, his knuckles whitening on the arm of the chair.
“And you, Ruby,” she said, turning. “You also broke your vow, and
you deceived me, which hurts me greatly. Had you any intention of
marrying Prince Kai when you made your vow to me?”
I took a long breath and forced myself to tell the truth. “Not if I could
help it.”
“Thank you,” Kai muttered, sounding deeply annoyed.
“It’s not like that, and you know it,” I muttered back.
Queen Nalani squared her shoulders. “Breaking a vow to your queen is
tantamount to treason. I could have you both executed for your crimes.”
“Now, just a minute,” Arcus said, moving to stand in front of me.
The queen held up a palm. “However, as I said, I am in a forgiving
frame of mind. Very forgiving.” Her lips curved up as she watched me try to
see around Arcus. “You may resume your post behind my niece… King
Arkanus.”
It was the first time I’d heard her address him by name.
“Friends and family call me Arcus,” he said, moving behind me once
again. “As I hope to count you as one or both of those, please use that
name.”
She smiled, her eyes sparkling. “Perhaps I will. But for now I must
address the issue of the Sudesian throne. I had planned for Ruby to be
queen with Kai at her side, teaching her Sudesian ways. Now, I have a niece
who has lost her Fireblood powers, and a prince who would have ruled well
but has no claim to the throne.”
I swallowed. “I’m sorry that the loss of my gift also robbed you of an
heir.”
She waved that away. “Not your fault, my dear, and I am sure you feel
the loss far more than I do.”
I inclined my head, grateful for her understanding.
 “Unfortunately, Sudesian law states that the ruler must be a Fireblood
with a gift equivalent to a Fireblood master.”
Kai leaned forward. “And he or she must have the royal gift as well,
isn’t that correct, Your Majesty? Ruby was the last in your line. If I may be
so bold, how will you find a replacement for her?”
He referred to the queen’s power to control lava, which I had lost
along with my fire.
“I could never replace my dear niece, of course,” she said with
amusement, “but I must correct your knowledge of the rules of succession.
It seems, on close inspection of the laws, that the gift that has been passed
through my family was never a necessary component to my rule. It was
merely a benefit. And as you know, I have the right to bestow and revoke
titles based on power, ability, or any criteria I wish.”
I heard Arcus shuffle behind me. He was probably a bit envious of her.
Tempesian laws didn’t give as much unilateral power to the monarch. He
always had his court to contend with.
“Do you have someone in mind?” I asked, suspecting where this was
going.
“I do,” the queen said. “My only concern is that he may be too devoted
to his life of privateering to consider the honor of my bequest.”
Arcus cleared his throat. “Queen Nalani, I hope that you will no longer
honor letters of marque for captains who would set upon Tempesian ships.
A peaceful future between our two kingdoms is my fond wish.”
“As it is mine,” she said, sitting back with a wide smile. “Prince Kai, I
am afraid I must rescind your letter of marque. From this moment forward,
you cannot set upon Tempesian ships without facing the consequences.”
Kai said simply, “As I’d planned to give up piracy—excuse me,
privateering—now that I have my island back, I do not regret the loss. But
thank you for clarifying the matter, my queen.”
“It is settled, then,” she said, clapping her hands. “I am very happy,
and I hope you are as well.”
“Very, very happy, Your Majesty,” I said, leaning forward. “May I…
may I give you a hug?” I felt a blush heat my cheeks. It seemed like a silly
request, but I really did want to embrace her for this.
“Of course, child. Come here.” She extended her arms and I moved
into them. I closed my eyes on a wave of emotion. She smelled a bit like
Mother.
“Thank you, my queen,” I said, my voice wobbling. I turned to face
Arcus and Kai, not surprised that they both looked confused.
“What just happened?” Arcus asked.
I walked back over to him, moving close. “It means I’m no longer the
heir to the Sudesian throne, and I can stay with you in Tempesia, making
your life interesting for as long as we like.”
A sunny grin broke out on his face as his arm came around me. “That
is good news, then.” He nodded his thanks at the queen, then bent his head,
catching my eyes with many shades of warmest ice. “To be clear, that will
be a very long time.”
“Yes, I think it might,” I said, grinning back.
Kai looked back and forth at us. “I know I missed something here.”
“Yes, Kai,” I said without looking at him. “You missed the small fact
that you’re now heir to the Sudesian throne.” I turned to him with a grin. “I
bet you can’t wait until I have to refer to you as His Majesty, the Fire
King.”
 EPILOGUE

I OFFERED MY HAND TO THE FIRE.

Sparks leaped from the hearth and settled onto my fingers, heat drawn
to heat, and glittered like molten gems against my skin. I twisted my wrist
back and forth, watching as the glowing embers pulsed in tune with my
heartbeat.
“Princess Ruby?”
The door eased open a crack, and a pair of brown eyes blinked
owlishly in the gap. Light spilled from the corridor, highlighting the room’s
shabby, ancient furniture and almost-as-ancient layer of dust. I’d chosen an
out-of-the-way sitting room in the oldest part of the castle because it was
neglected and all but forgotten. And because it had a fireplace.
“Come in and close the door!” I whispered, beckoning to Doreena. The
sparks on my hand flared with the movement, then winked out. “You look
lovely,” I said as I took note of her coral ball gown. “That color suits you.”
“Thank you,” she said with a blush, her confused gaze honing in on
my raised hands. “What are you doing?”
I grinned, dusting my fingers together to make sure the sparks were
out. “Testing a theory. Never mind. You look slightly desperate. What’s
wrong?”
She made an abrupt gesture toward the door. “You’re late! The court is
all assembled. The stands are full. King Arkanus is getting impatient, to put
it mildly.”
Groaning, I jumped to my feet. “I lost track of time. How upset is he?
Is that little muscle ticking in his jaw?”
“I didn’t look… but I suspect so.”
I took a step forward and a lock of my hair escaped its pins, tumbling
defiantly against my cheek. Drat! They had warned me not to move too
much but of course I hadn’t listened. It was an elaborate coiffure, smooth
on top but braided and curled and coiled at the back, the main bulk held
aloft by several dozen hairpins. Smoky ringlets softened my temples and
nape. I fussed with the fugitive lock for a second before Doreena darted
forward and dashed my hand away.
“You’re making it worse!” she chided.
I held dutifully still as she repaired the damage. She was no longer my
lady’s maid since she was now employed in the castle infirmary, but
apparently she couldn’t resist applying her skills when I was so obviously in
need.
“All these hairpins,” I muttered, wincing as she pushed a couple back
into place. “I feel like a hedgehog is nesting on my head.”
“If it is, no one will see it under all that hair.” She smiled and patted
the sides of the monstrosity to make sure it hadn’t listed to port or
starboard. Then, with a last measuring look, she stepped back and gave the
rest of me a critical once-over, gasping when her eyes fell on my skirt.
“What did you do?”
I glanced down to see tiny, black-edged holes burned into the fabric of
my ivory silk gown. I scrunched up my face. The royal seamstress was
going to murder me. Probably in some creative way involving pins and
scissors. Batting at my skirt did nothing to help the situation. I gave
Doreena a desperate look. “Do you think I have time to change?”
Her eyes grew even bigger. “Now? No! Everyone is waiting!”
“Then I suppose I’ll have to brazen it out.” It wouldn’t be the first
time.
I grabbed fistfuls of gown and hustled after her through the icy
corridors. The castle was practically empty, but whenever we crossed paths
with someone, I slowed to a dignified walk and gave a single nod
accompanied by a hint of a smile, as if I were taking a leisurely stroll and
not galloping in a frenzied rush, late for my own coronation.
When we reached the outer castle doors, a contingent of waiting
guards snapped to attention and accompanied us toward the arena. We
moved at a blistering pace considering my stride was hampered by layers of
linen and silk. The excited murmur of a massive crowd grew louder as we
passed through a side door leading into the familiar alcove. More guards
lined the walls, vigilantly protecting me from any possible threat. A red
carpet ran all the way from inside the alcove to the dais in the arena proper.
Velvety fuchsia petals from blooms imported from Sudesia were strewn at
the edges, giving off a tropical scent.
 It wouldn’t have been my choice of venue, but the arena was the only
space large enough to accommodate all the spectators, from courtiers to
commoners, who were eager to watch the crowning of a new queen for the
first time in over two decades. Arcus’s mother, a highborn Frostblood lady
from an old and respected family, had been the last.
And now it would be me.
Arcus had said it would be a fitting place to celebrate the start of a new
era—to underscore the death of old customs and the birth of new ones. At
the moment I thought it might be a fitting place to faint.
I halted in the doorway. “I’m going to be sick,” I whispered to
Doreena.
“Don’t be silly!” She leaned over to peek through the opening.
“Everyone is here to support you.”
“Oh yes, I’m sure.” My tone was as arid as my suddenly dry mouth.
“They all adore me. They’re desperately hoping I succeed as queen.”
“You don’t know that they aren’t! Anyway, they were checked for
weapons on their way in.”
My lips tightened to hide a smile at her version of comfort. “Thank
you, Doreena.”
Her mention of weapons reminded me that I’d faced actual swords, ice
arrows, wild animals, and foes determined to kill me in this very arena. If I
could survive that, I could surely survive having a crown placed on my
head—a crown that would give me power and security beyond anything I’d
ever had. Not to mention the fact that it gave me the right to live and work
alongside the person I loved most in the world. My anxiety melted away,
leaving only the desire to get this done.
Brother Thistle appeared in the alcove, a little winded, as if he’d been
hurrying. He was dressed in white velvet robes with braided silver trim. His
face wore an expression of stark relief for a second before he wrestled
himself back into stoic placidity.
“We had people looking all over for you,” he said in a low voice,
leaning on his cane as he caught his breath.
“Sorry. I wasn’t easy to find,” I admitted.
“I hope you had no fears for your safety, Miss Otrera—Your Highness.
I have instructed my informers to listen for any news about the Blue Legion
or the Servants. Every report says they disbanded after the execution of
their leaders. I can assure you with great relief that they are no longer a
threat.”
“Thank you.” I smiled at him. “But I wasn’t worried. I just had
something to do.”
“Something more important than this?” He raised his thick brows.
I resisted the urge to cover the burn marks on my gown. “Maybe.”
He shook his head with amused tolerance and offered his arm. “Are
you ready, Your Highness?”
“I’d better be. It’s too late to turn back now, isn’t it?”
“Far too late,” he assured me with a twinkle in his eye.
After taking a breath and straightening my shoulders, I put my hand on
his arm. We stepped from the archway and started our slow and stately
promenade along the endless red carpet. I didn’t look at the crowd, not
wanting to catch anyone in the suddenly silent masses scowling or glaring,
though they were too far away to see clearly. Instead, I stared straight ahead
and took slow, measured steps. One, two, three. Easy. Nothing to fear. I
could do this all day.
A few feet from the dais, I slipped on a patch of ice.
Brother Thistle steadied me with his arm, and we continued on. I
hoped my stumble was small enough to be hidden by my voluminous skirts.
“Is someone trying to kill me?” I whispered in an aside.
He chuckled. “Not at all. The frost is a result of the king’s state of
mind.” He nodded toward the dais. “He was very upset when no one could
find you.”
Uh-oh. My eyes snapped to where Arcus stood with perfect stillness
next to an ornate gilded throne sent by Queen Nalani as a show of affection
and goodwill. She wasn’t present, having returned to Sere after the battle on
the Isle of Night five months before, but her emissary and heir, Prince Kai,
was here to represent her. I did a quick search and spotted him standing at
the front of the area reserved for visiting dignitaries. His crimson doublet
was tailored to within an inch of its life, a velvet cape flowing from epaulets
at the shoulders. His hair was tamed into a smooth style under his gold
crown, though his eyes conveyed something less tame: restless irritation, as
if he’d been kept waiting for days instead of half an hour.
He’d seemed bored more and more lately. I had a feeling he’d waited
around for my coronation, but once it was over, he’d find an excuse to set
sail again.
About time, he mouthed.
It took a heroic effort of will not to roll my eyes at him.
I returned my attention to the dais. Just a few feet away now, it was
covered in a hazardous layer of ice—which wasn’t as intimidating as the
permafrost in Arcus’s eyes. It matched his deep blue doublet nicely.
“Did you miss me?” I asked as he reached out a hand to help me up the
steps.
“I’ve decided to execute you,” he said in a low voice, his freezing hand
tightening on mine as he led me to the throne. “I merely need to decide
how. Hanging seems too quick and merciful.”
“On my first day as queen? That seems a little hasty.”
When I would have sat, his hand held me in place. His head bent
toward mine, his gaze piercing. “Where were you? I thought you might
have bolted.”
“Would you have blamed me? Look at all these people. Some of them
used to throw things at me.”
“Are you going to answer my question?”
“Later. I have a coronation to win.”
He frowned. “You don’t win a coronation.”
“Watch me.” With every bit of grace I could summon, I took my place
on the throne.
“What have I done?” Arcus muttered, aggrieved.
But his eyes were brimming with pride as he stepped back and nodded
to the Archbishop of the Order of Fors, who moved forward to lead me in
my vows. For the first time, I saw the arena as a whole: hundreds of people
waving red-and-blue banners with both Sudesian and Tempesian crests, the
merging of two kingdoms and two peoples. Maybe Doreena was right.
Maybe they did want me to succeed.
Either way, they were stuck with me.
The ceremony began.
The ballroom was aggressively festive, every available space cluttered
with something colorful or sparkly. Evening sunlight from the tall windows
took prismatic detours through ice statues, while bronze filigree lanterns
provided an amber glow in the corners. Tubs of flowering plants and
evergreen topiaries were set between each white-draped window, and a rich
carpet ran the center of the room. Scores of courtiers and dignitaries sipped
wine and chattered in small groups. The walls were covered in Sudesian
tapestries, showing scenes of erupting volcanoes and battles involving a
great deal of fire. A nice touch.
Marella swanned up to me, her blond hair smooth as ice, pulled back
from her head and tamed into an impossibly perfect bun at her nape. She
held an ostrich feather fan that whispered back and forth under laughing
violet eyes. She lowered her fan to reveal a smirk. “Late for your own
coronation. I must give you points for drama.”
“I wasn’t trying to be dramatic. Speaking of which, I thought you were
going for an understated theme.” I made an all-encompassing gesture. As
royal decorator for the occasion, Marella had called in artisans and
craftspeople from all over the kingdom and beyond. I should have known
my request to keep it simple would go unheeded.
“It is understated,” she said with a slight arch of her brows. “I even
said no to a gold-plated statue of Sud.” She leaned in. “It was too tall to fit
in the ballroom.”
“That doesn’t show an ounce of restraint. These ceilings are fifty feet
high.”
“I’m quite proud of myself,” she said, clearly missing the point.
“Behemoth statues aside, let me show you all the things I imported from
Sudesia. The Fireblood princeling helped.” She sniffed. “He’s not quite as
useless as he appears.” Her gaze moved to where Kai stood talking to a
Safran ambassador. And stayed there.
I hid my surprise. Was Marella interested in the Fireblood princeling
she treated so dismissively? It was only a brief stare, but it was enough to
make me wonder.
She wrested her attention away from him and beckoned me to follow
her. Before I could take a step, a large hand touched my forearm. It was a
light touch but a very cold one, and contained a clear message.
I waved Marella to go on without me. With a knowing smile, she took
her leave.
“You’re not moving an inch from my side, my errant queen,” came the
unbending tones of the king. “In fact, I may chain you to me.”
I turned to look up at him and folded my arms. “You can certainly try.”
 “It would have made finding you this morning much easier. Where
were you?” He drew me into the only corner not filled with either guests or
statuary.
“You’re looming. Stop looming. This isn’t an interrogation.”
“I’m taller than you. I can’t help but loom. Could you please stop
changing the subject?”
“You’re reading too much into it. I lost track of time. I didn’t bolt. And
now I’m wearing a very heavy crown that is probably ruining my posture.”
“You can take it off in a couple of hours, and then you only have to
wear it during official events and on the rare holiday.”
“Oh, goody. A torture device for special occasions.”
He gave me a measured look. “What’s wrong? Did someone say
something to annoy you? One of the courtiers?”
“No, of course not. You got rid of all the ones who hate me,
remember?”
“Is it something to do with your infirmary project? I know the
expansion of the building is taking longer than you hoped, and there’s a
shortage of skilled healers.”
“No, nothing like that. Brother Gamut is training new ones as we
speak. He thinks they’ll be ready to work independently by the end of
spring. I’m very pleased.”
“Is it something to do with”—his voice dropped—“the Blue Legion?
Eurus? The Minax?”
“No, no, and no. I wouldn’t keep that a secret from you.”
“Then what is it?” He took my shoulders, his head bent toward mine
so our eyes were level. Tension radiated from him. “Ruby, do you regret
this? Are you second-guessing your decision to be with me?”
“Of course not!” I said, shocked. “Never.”
I’d meant every word of the vows I’d taken at Forwind Abbey when
Brother Thistle had bound Arcus and me together in marriage. We’d
pledged to love, honor, and cherish each other for all time, and every
syllable of that promise had felt deeply right. I hadn’t had a single moment
of regret.
He let out a breath. “Then what is going on?”
I sighed, trying to hold on to my patience. “I have a surprise for you,
and you’re ruining it.”
 “Does your surprise involve tying me up in knots? Because that’s what
you’re doing.”
“I’m sorry. I just… I wanted to show you something I can do.”
If anything, he looked more concerned. “What do you mean?”
I considered pummeling his chest with my fists. “Do you have to look
so terrified? If it were something as heinous as you seem to think, I’d hardly
be happy about it.”
He tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes in thought. “I’m
not sure that’s true.”
I willed myself to calm, feeling a familiar heat bubbling through my
veins—a heat I’d thought was gone forever. “Will you just trust me?”
“Yes! As soon as you confess whatever secret plans kept you from
your own coronation.”
Warm to hot. Pretty soon my blood would boil. “Do you really want to
argue here? Now? Is this any way to behave?”
A brow lifted. “Now you’re lecturing me on etiquette?”
I threw up my hands. “Someone has to!” People were starting to turn
their heads in our direction. “You’re causing a scene.”
“Me?” He had the audacity to look amused. “You don’t think your
shouting has something to do with it?”
“I’m not shouting! Ugh! Fine! Here, I’ll just show you.”
I waved my hand at the nearest chandelier.
Phwoomph!
I had intended to make a single candle flare. Instead, every candle in
every chandelier erupted into incandescent flames six or seven times higher
than before, flickering like hungry tongues against the icy fixtures. Drops of
frigid water rained down on the assembly, eliciting gasps and cries. At the
same time, a cloud of fire spewed up from one of the lanterns, the
conflagration traveling up to where it hit the ceiling with a loud sizzle.
There was an echoing crack, and a chunk of ice broke free.
The shard hurtled down toward a cluster of nobles from the northern
provinces who’d been, up until that point, having a cordial conversation
with a delegate from the Aris Plains.
With startling speed, Arcus sent a torrent of ice to halt the shard’s
descent, then added more to fuse the whole thing back to the ceiling.
Though it proved to be completely secure, it looked very much like an ax
waiting to skewer everyone who stood below. The people underneath had
frozen in shock.
Arcus dropped his arms. For a minute, the guests took turns staring
from the ceiling to me as if waiting for something else to happen. As if this
were the beginning of an unexpected performance, and they weren’t sure
whether to applaud or run.
Arcus turned back to me, his eyes a touch wider than usual, but his
face blank.
“That was,” I whispered, wincing, “what I wanted to show you.”
It just hadn’t gone the way I’d imagined. Not. At. All.
“I see.” There was no inflection in his voice, no facial expression to
give me a clue what he was thinking. I waited for the tirade, but he
appeared to be stuck in some kind of stasis. Either that or he’d finally come
up with a better alternative than hanging, which was “too quick and
merciful,” if I remembered correctly.
I swallowed and forced a smile. “Is it too late to bolt?”
He stepped closer, his arms coming around me. It was the last thing I’d
expected him to do, and it sent me into a daze of confused speculation. A
hundred wildly improbable scenarios paraded through my mind. Was he
planning to squeeze me to death? Or toss me over his shoulder and carry me
to the nearest cliff? Maybe he would just throw me to the frost wolves. I
had no doubt they would find me delicious.
The worst part was that the assembled crowd had gone back to
chattering and sipping wine as if nothing had happened. No one looked the
least bit interested in saving me from the wrath of their king.
His arms tightened. “Oh, Ruby.” His voice sounded choked. His body
started to shake.
Alarmed, I struggled to lean back so I could see his face, but his arms
bound me tight. He kept shaking until I was almost frantic. Was he crying?
Had he lost his senses? Had I broken him?
Finally, he pulled back. He was wearing a huge grin that crinkled his
eyes and made his face so beautiful that my heart skipped a beat. He
reached up and wiped his eye, but the tears were clearly from laughter.
Relief added a couple of extra thumps to my pulse. I gave him a
tentative smile. “So, you’re not angry?”
 “No, my fiery queen. I’m so happy for you.” He brushed fallen strands
of hair back from my face, then put his hands on my cheeks. His eyes
sparkled with residual humor, though the rest of his face did its best to look
serious. “Only you would announce the return of your fire with such…
flair.” A twitch of his lips was ruthlessly suppressed. “I do wish you had
chosen a less dangerous way of showing it off, though. You could have hurt
someone.”
I closed my eyes. “I know. I’m so sorry.”
“Can you imagine if your first act as queen was to slice up a bevy of
dignitaries?”
I groaned. The image was only too vivid in my mind. What had I been
thinking? But earlier today, I’d barely made sparks glow. How was I to
know my gift would return so quickly? Then again, rage always made my
fire burn unpredictably, and he had goaded me into a fine temper.
“Please be more careful,” Arcus said, pressing his cool lips to mine.
His skin warmed in an instant, reminding me that he’d learned to regulate
his temperature for me. Now he was asking me to recover the control I’d
fought so hard to learn before. It was what I wanted, too. I definitely hadn’t
planned to terrorize the guests at my first royal gala.
“I will. Forgive me?”
“All right.”
“Just like that?”
“I’m the Frost King. I’m allowed to be mercurial.”
My heart blossomed with tenderness and heat and gratitude. “In that
case, you’re in good company. We can be wild and unpredictable together.”
My arms snuck around him again, and I stood on my tiptoes to give him
another kiss. I loved his scent, his nearness, the feel of him. So familiar and
so necessary to me now. Warmth spread through me, and it had nothing to
do with my gift and everything to do with holding the person I loved in my
arms.
“You can be whatever you want to be, Lady Firebrand.” He stole
another kiss. “As long as we’re together.”
I leaned back to look up at him. “Are you sure you don’t want to add a
caveat or two to that statement of blanket permission?”
He grinned again. “I told you once: When it comes to you, I like to be
burned. Just… don’t take that too literally, would you?”
 “I’ll try to exert some small measure of control.”
“Just a speck.”
“Maybe even a pinch,” I replied. Then I looked at him seriously.
“Arcus, I would never hurt you or allow you to be hurt. Not if I could
prevent it.”
“I know that.” His voice turned husky, making my pulse bubble hot
and light through my veins. “I trusted you with my icy heart, and instead of
melting it, you set it ablaze.”
Something clenched in my chest, a sweet and gentle ache. “And you
made mine burn hotter.” I gave him a teasing look. “No wonder my fire
came back.”
He chuckled and pulled me close. “No matter what, it’s you I love.
With or without your gift.”
“I think that is the gift,” I whispered. “Love is the true gift.”
“My queen is wise. And I am lucky.”
But I was the one who felt like the gods were smiling down on me.
Arcus’s hand was almost warm as his knuckles lazily stroked my
cheek. For a few seconds, I wished I wasn’t wearing a heavy crown that
kept me from embracing him the way I wanted. Later, I promised myself.
Remembering my duties as hostess, I started to pull away, but his arms
tightened, keeping me close.
I relaxed. I hadn’t wanted to part yet anyway.
Though the room was filled with people, it felt as if we stood in our
own snug little cocoon filled with affection and tranquility. Stars, glowing
coyly as they held their eternal secrets, were winking to life in the purple
evening sky to the east as an apricot sun sank behind the western edge of
the mountain. Burnt-ocher rays painted one side of the ballroom, making
the icy walls smolder.
Ice no longer scared me. Its facets were beautiful, especially when it
caught and held the vibrancy of flame.
For the first time in an age, I knew in my restless, simmering heart that
I was safe.
I was home.
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 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Writing this series has been a dream come true. Words are inadequate
to express my gratitude for the time, energy, patience, and support of so
many people who helped make this happen.
Abundant appreciation to Deirdre Jones, my steadfast and perceptive
editor at Little, Brown, who has taken my drafty-as-an-old-house
manuscripts and helped me shape them into books. Huge thanks to the rest
of the amazing team: Hallie Tibbetts, Sasha Illingworth, Angela Taldone,
Virginia Lawther, Erika Breglia, Emilie Polster, Stefanie Hoffman,
Elizabeth Rosenbaum, Valerie Wong, Kristina Pisciotta, Shawn Foster,
Megan Tingley, Jackie Engel, and Alvina Ling. Special thanks to Annie
McDonnell, copyeditor extraordinaire, for your incredible eye for detail.
And once again, thank you to Dominique Delmas at Hachette Canada for
arranging Canadian events, and coming to see me at many of them!
Endless gratitude to Emily Kitchin at Hodder & Stoughton for your
perspicacious editorial direction and unfailing enthusiasm, and to the
wonderful Fleur Clarke, Becca Mundy, and Natalie Chen!
Heartfelt thanks to my agent, Suzie Townsend, for taking care of so
much, and for having the knack of saying the exact thing I need to hear. A
big hug to the rest of the awesome team at New Leaf Literary: Cassandra
Baim, Kathleen Ortiz, Mia Roman, Veronica Grijalva, and Hilary Pecheone.
As always, endless thanks for brainstorming, notes, support, and
friendship from Alexa Donne, Jennifer Hawkins, Heather Kaczynski, Mary
Ann Marlowe, Nicki Pau Preto, Nikki Roberti, Mara Rutherford, Kelly
Siskind, Summer Spence, Ron Walters, and Kristin B. Wright. Lots of love
to the Lady Seals: Anabel, Brooke, Crystal, Guida, and Sarah. Thank you to
early readers Sabrina Chiasson and Isabelle Hanson.
Hugs to my ever-supportive family: Matt, Nancy, Dan, Erik, Mark,
Fred, Donna, Heather, Jill, Todd, Zoe, and Quinton.
Nicklas, Aleksander, and Lukas, thank you for unconditional love and
understanding. You bring me joy every day. Dearest Darren, thank you for
doing so much to help me write. All my love.
Epic, resounding thanks to readers, especially those generous enough
to reach out with reviews or messages. I couldn’t do this without you!