Page 103 of King of Fire and Flames

“No,” I replied. “He’s probably with Nukala. And hopefully not killing Estella as we speak.”

Arrow made a grunting sound through the bond, then shot high into the starry sky, disappearing from view. “Be safe,” I whispered.

Ruhh, absent for most of the mayhem, now floated above the pile of ash that was once the king and his last few loyal soldiers.

“It was you, brother, who bound me to your corrupt kingdom, to my rotting flesh and this tattered gown. You deserve this wretched fate. I hope you spend eternity in the hell realms.”

Fae still trailed out of the arena’s scrolled gates and into the Fen Forest, either flying, running, or trampling over others, likely terrified that the Storm King was about to raze the entire city to the ground.

“There you are, filthy human,” a low voice snarled behind me. “I’ve been looking for you.”

I whipped around, my boots scraping over stones, and found Neeron, the Sun Realm envoy, grinning before me. He scanned my body, now flickering in and out of visibility, and fixed me with a predatory stare, hungry for revenge.

“Come get me,” I said as I gripped my sword hilt with two hands, holding it vertically along the center of my body. “I’m more than happy to finish what we started back in Coridon.”

Wishing I could tear my horrible, movement-restricting gown off, I chanted the Mydorian war song in my mind. By branch and root, soil and stone, lend strength to muscle, heart, and bone.

“Why should I bother fighting with a sword when I can simply destroy you with these?” Neeron asked, spinning several balls of fire magic on his palms.

I ducked and whirled as he threw them at me in rapid succession, missing me and setting many fae ablaze as they fled the arena.

“Why? Because I’m too good at dodging them,” I replied, running up a wall and landing directly behind Neeron. “If I were you, Envoy, I’d try using your sword.” I swiped my blade diagonally and a line of blood wept from his right shoulder to his left waist.

I hissed my people’s chant through my teeth. Crush all to live. Conquer and prevail. Mydor blood will never fail.

But Mydor blood had failed Quin after he’d polluted his veins with enough gold serum to dishonor the blood of our ancestors. And if I could kill my own brother—an addict jacked-up with fire magic—surely I could take out a whining envoy without breaking a sweat.

Neeron whipped around, snarling like a newborn troll as he drew his sword, lunging and slashing at me three times. I blocked each strike, the third catching his collarbone, another dark stain blooming over the royal blue material of his jacket.

Dropping my right shoulder, I pretended to hack with a downward strike, but went in for the kill instead, raising the blade fast and aiming for his head. Neeron spun out of the blow just in time, then we pushed back and forth, the clash of swords dull thuds over the din in the arena.

Concentrating on precise movements and rhythmic breathing, I lifted my sword above my head, feigning another downward strike, and as the fae moved in to counter it, I kicked him in the balls.

Neeron fell backward, groaning before immediately springing back onto his feet.

Before I could launch another attack, Arrow landed between us.

“I thought you were hunting Melaya,” I grumbled.

“Changed my mind. I’ve been watching the Sun Envoy closely instead. Neeron,” Arrow said calmly, as if he’d just bumped into him at a garden party. “Good to see you again. You’ve been well?” he continued, his wings folded along his spine and the arches raised above his shoulders, reminding me of a bristled cat preparing to tear its prey to shreds.

Neeron mumbled an incoherent response. Sweat beading his brow, he collected himself and bowed. “King Arrowyn, I apologize. I wasn’t aware you were still interested in the human’s welfare.”

“Consider me deeply invested in my Aldara’s wellbeing.”

The envoy’s knees shook, a dark stain spreading on the crotch of his pants.

Arrow looked at me over his shoulder. “Do you trust me, Leaf?”

“More than I trust myself.”

“Good answer.” He grinned, tipping his chin toward Neeron. “So then, may I have the pleasure?”

Pointing my blade toward the ground, I considered Arrow’s question.

First, it was nice of him to ask permission before killing Neeron on my behalf. And second, I was exhausted. In addition, I hadn’t spied Melaya since the fighting had commenced. Perhaps he’d already fled the kingdom and was halfway across the realm. Or perhaps he hadn’t and would appear any moment and burn us all to crispy cinders. Therefore, I had to conserve my energy and be ready for anything.

I nodded at Arrow. “By all means, go ahead.”

---