Page 54 of King of Fire and Flames

“I am Grendal’s son, Zaret. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Zaret? It really is you, isn’t it? You have your mother’s gray eyes.” My fingers grazed his cheekbone. “Arrow said you were here, and I hoped it was true. But given all that’s happened, it’s hard to trust a word the Storm King says anymore.”

A grin stretched his face, so similar to Grendal’s mischievous smile that I knew without a doubt she was his mother.

“Will you sit with me?” he asked, perching on a flat boulder overlooking a field of fire geysers.

I settled beside him, and then took his hand and squeezed it. “Do you despise me for what happened to your mother, Zaret?”

He frowned. “Not at all. The Sayeeda, Ildri, and Arrow, they all explained what happened the day she died in the tea garden. My mother did a foolish thing in the hopes of saving me from a life of addiction. But in doing so, she betrayed you, her one true friend. The gold trade was the real cause of her death.”

“Yes, and that’s Arrow’s fault. His court treats their servants with such savagery, allowing them to become addicted to serum as a means to control them.”

“Much has changed in Coridon since you left. Servants no longer wear serum bracelets. And as long as they vow not to join the raiders, they are free to leave the city if they don’t wish to work in the palace or the mines, where the pay is best. But most stay, glad to be employed and live comfortably.”

For a moment, I said nothing as I watched a geyser erupt, spraying sparks across a field of grass. A fae appeared with a bucket and ran around putting out spot fires.

“You’re telling me Arrow found you, befriended you, and abolished the Light Realm’s slave trade in a matter of weeks? You can’t expect me to believe that.”

“Yes, Zali, he did. And I must tell you it was all for—”

I elbowed his ribs, cutting him off as the light breeze carried a raspy voice up the hill. “What have we here?” the voice mocked. “A human uprising in the Court of Fire and Flames?”

I looked over my shoulder and found Prince Bakhur and his pompous, shit-eating grin stalking toward us.

Releasing Zaret’s hand, I wiped mine on my thigh and forced a smile. “Join us, Bakhur. We were just discussing what an asshole King Arrowyn is.”

“My favorite topic.” Bakhur turned to Zaret and snarled. “Leave, human. Do it fast if you know what’s good for you.”

Zaret rose without haste, strolling away as if he hadn’t a care in the world. His casual arrogance reminded me of the Storm King, an obvious role model Zaret had been paying close attention to.

Flicking his cloak up, Bakhur sat beside me. “Father wouldn’t like to hear of you fraternizing with the human.”

“Why not? I’m human, too. I find it comforting to speak with my own kind.”

“King Azarn doesn’t care much for your comfort.”

Nor did his son, I guessed.

Bakhur nodded at my mergelyn anklet. “I’ve heard many rumors about that device. A persistent one being that it allows Melaya to hear snippets of your conversations. Apparently, it’s sporadic and unreliable, but if you gather with the human boy or members of the Storm Court again, your words may very well get back to us.”

“You surprise me, Bakhur, admitting the Fire Court is afraid of a harmless conversation between friends.”

“Nothing you do is harmless, Zali.”

Unease surged through me. Could Melaya really spy on me through the mergelyn anklet? From now on, I needed to take the utmost care of what I said and to whom.

Planting my boots on the rock and hugging my knees to my chest, I released a heavy sigh. “Anyway, I’m tired of hearing Melaya this and Melaya that. No one speaks about his brother, Nukala, and yet your father seems very fond of him. What’s his story?”

At the mention of Nukala, the Fire Prince’s skin blanched white. “Nukala isn’t spoken of because he’s a bore. A useless, powerless fire mage.”

“But, fortunately, a pretty one,” I said, forcing a smile and wondering if Bakhur was telling the truth. Why would the king fawn over a weak, impotent mage? Unless the king was infatuated and besotted with Nukala, it didn’t make sense.

As I got to my feet, Bakhur gripped my wrist, holding me in place. “Skip dinner in the hall tonight and attend my private bacchanal instead. You won’t regret it, Zali. I can tell you tales about the Storm King that will take your breath away. You will consider me a mouse compared to the fae who caused the death of countless females over decades.”

Arrow had only worn his crown for the past two years, so I was reasonably sure Bakhur had confused stories of King Darian for tales about his son.

“I’ll think about it,” I replied, then bid Bakhur goodbye and hurried off to find Zaret.

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