Page 38 of King of Fire and Flames

Bakhur wore an unpleasant smile, and I wondered what he’d prefer to see tomorrow. My gruesome demise. Or my triumph, so he’d have a human bride to torture.

“If you don’t like the rules, you can always decide not to participate,” said Azarn.

“Will you allow me to select my own opponent?”

The king smiled, twirling the point of his beard between bejeweled fingers. “That depends. Who would you choose?”

I grinned back at him. “You.”

Looking ready to chop my head off, Melaya stepped forward, a flaming sword in his hand.

Arrow’s laugh boomed out, sending shivers down my spine. With his head casually resting against the back of his chair, the Storm King gazed at Azarn through hooded eyes.

“The human wishes to ruffle your feathers, Azarn,” he drawled. “And you’re obliging her.”

The Fire King paled. “Melaya, sit down. Now.”

The mage obeyed, his flame-filled eyes never leaving me. There was no doubt in my mind Melaya wanted me dead, perhaps even more than Azarn did.

Esen took me by the arm. “Let’s go before you irritate someone into lopping your head off.”

As we turned to leave the arena, at the corner of my vision, I saw Arrow stand, but quickly sit back down, as if he wanted to chase after me, but remembered himself just in time.

Silver moonlight illuminated Sable eating grass outside the arena walls, exactly where we’d left her hours ago. I gave Esen a questioning look.

“She’s glamored to stay where I leave her. And before you ask, no, it’s not cruel. Taln’s horses are treated very well, and Sable is perfectly happy.”

“If you insist,” I said, mounting after greeting the horse with a quick nose rub.

As Esen settled in the saddle behind me, Ruhh appeared, her ankles crossed as she sat on a gnarled tree branch like a spooky ghoul.

“Fuck,” breathed Esen in my ear. “Stop doing that, Ruhh. What in the flames do you want?”

The ghost girl’s eyes widened. “Don’t speak to me like that, soldier girl. My brother wouldn’t like it.”

“Oh, I don’t think he’d mind too much.” Esen nudged Sable into a walk. “You’re here for a reason, so hurry up and tell me what it is.”

Floating beside the horse, her cheek resting on her palm as if she was reclining on a towel at the palace’s bathhouse, Ruhh said, “I want to take the human back to her tower myself.”

“Why?” Esen asked.

“So I can talk privately with her.”

Esen laughed. “No. Absolutely not. Now get back to your crypt before I summon an exorcist.”

Fear flickered over the dead girl’s face. “Must you always spoil my fun, King’s Guard?”

“Yes,” Esen replied. “I know the type of games you like to play, little ghostling.”

Cruelty ran in the veins of the Taln royal family, I thought, as the runes on my back prickled.

Ruhh snarled and disappeared, her gray gown dissolving into the darkening sky, and Esen urged Sable into a gallop, ensuring I couldn’t question her about Ruhh’s schemes.

As we passed the castle wall near the fire gardens, my Aldara mark sizzled. Arrow again. It had to be. I whipped my head around, searching the shadows, but found no sign of the Storm King.

A breeze from above blew my hair over my eyes as Esen pulled the horse to a stop, then Arrow landed in front of us, folding his enormous purple-black wings behind his back.

For a moment or two, possibly three, I gazed at the dark iridescent colors, the wing tips glowing in the moonlight. I’d forgotten how beautiful they were, how mesmerizing.

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