Page 35 of King of Fire and Flames

“Of course. It would prevent them from killing each other to become my heir.” The vision of three golden-haired babes crashed through my mind, and I mentally swatted the picture away.

If I ever did decide to have children, Arrow would be the last male in the realms to father them.

Vyprin sighed. “How boring you are, Zali Omala. So, the troll father gave his grown children gold feathers and instructed each of them to buy something that would fill his granary to the ceiling. Because it was cheap, the eldest son bought straw, but once it had been laid out, it compacted and didn’t fill the storehouse. The second son bought wood, but not quite enough. The youngest child, a raven-haired daughter, purchased two things and managed to obtain her father’s fortune. What items did she buy?”

“Two? Their father failed to mention they could buy two things.”

“Nor did he say they couldn’t.”

Ah, the daughter was clever. I wracked my brain, trying to imagine what two things could accomplish the task. Wood and straw together? Still difficult to calculate the exact amount required. Plants and soil that would grow over time? No, they would need sunlight to thrive.

Think, think, I told myself, sweat trickling between my breasts and my legs shaking. This was the Sun Realm, so the answer might relate to the fire element, like the previous riddle had.

I drew in a sharp breath, my heart beating hard against my ribs. “Could she have brought a candle and a fire lighter into the room? Light from a fire source would fill the entire space.”

Disappointment curved the corners of his mouth down, his shoulders sagging. “Yes, you are correct, and now I must let you leave.” He slithered to the side, flicked his palm, and the mist around his lower torso dispersed, revealing a three-foot high plant, its tendrils crawling up the base of an old oak tree.

The black blooms resembled a spider about to pounce, and they dripped dark-red sap over the forest floor. The scent of death intensified, and I realized I’d been smelling the magical plant all along, not the serpent fae.

Stepping forward, I reached for a petal. Vyprin hissed, and I yanked my hand back immediately.

“The orchid eats flesh and is quite vicious toward those who seek to destroy it. Allow me.” His torso bent in a sinuous movement, and he plucked a whole bloom. The plant growled, and the petals still attached to it reached for the serpent male’s fingers, a line of blood appearing on his skin.

Vyprin made soothing noises, and the orchid’s leaves stopped vibrating. He placed the velvety flower on my palm. “Only give the king the single petal he asked for. Hide the rest. You’ll find them very useful.”

“What do they do?”

“You consider yourself clever, therefore, you can work it out. Now you must leave.” Without warning, he lunged down, tugged my hand to his mouth, and then bit it.

I let out a cry of pain and closed my eyes as the ground rushed toward me, thinking Vyprin had gone back on his word. But when I came to, I found myself slumped in front of the Ashen Souls’ gates, the sounds of clanging swords and a cheering crowd audible beyond them.

Stumbling up, I brushed off my tunic, then pushed on a rusty handle, my breath whooshing out of me at the sight inside the arena.

Azarn’s queen battled a fire jinn, wielding a sword as long and dark as her midnight hair. Lifting the blade overhead, she let out a wail and brought it down onto her opponent’s head, cleaving him in two with one strike. She threw the sword into the crowd, then spun around the arena in a celebratory dance, the stars on her dress glinting in the muted, green-tinged light.

Shock and excitement vibrated through me.

The transformation from quietly spoken queen into a fearsome warrior was extreme. Estella looked terrifying, but wonderful. And my mouth hung open as I watched her whirl and shake her arms at the sky like a goddess.

Finally, she stopped in front of Azarn, her chest heaving and eyes glittering. He rose from his throne and raised an arm to silence his courtiers.

Then the Fire King’s head turned slowly, his gaze searching the arena until he looked directly at me. “Zali Omala,” he boomed. “Meet your next opponent, Queen Estella of the Crystal Realm.”

Chapter 11

Leaf

Azarn couldn’t be serious. He wanted me to fight his wife? His queen?

Dust, what a royally twisted family. I’d rather die than marry into their fucked-up bloodline.

Estella stalked around the perimeter of the arena, her gown flowing behind her like a triumphant banner, arms raised, rousing the crowd into new heights of ecstasy each time she stabbed the sky with her sword.

Including her in the event meant Azarn didn’t hold much value in her life. Unless he knew for certain she was unbeatable.

And if she was an exceptional fighter, why hadn’t she already sliced her nasty husband’s throat while he slept? If I were her, I would have gotten rid of him ages ago.

The arena smelled of dank misery, as if thousands had battled for their lives on this very ground and lost. Perhaps I would soon be one of them.

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