Page 16 of Chained to the Devil's Daughter

His burst of fire was met with a jolt of water. Their magic danced, a swirling mass of orange-hot flame and rivulets of crystalline water.

“Incredible,” I breathed. “Do you realize what you’ve done? Beyond clearing the Firefolk, you’ve created technology that could make water and fire relationships easier!”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Filaris said with a chuckle. I rolled my eyes and shook her by the shoulders until she gave me that look that said I was being an insufferable child.

Geysis cast a mischievous glance over her shoulder. Her underwater accent, a higher pitch that wasn’t common in Hell, lent to her charm as she promised, “That’s nothing, guys!”

The mass of opposing magic surged. Orange flames ricocheted back to Fuegis’ free hand, gathering around his fist so hot his whole left side appeared wavy-gravy. While he contained the sphere of flames, water magic rushed from Geysis’ outstretched palm with a force to rival the waterfalls in Aqualis, the City of Falls in Hydra. At least I assumed, based on my textbooks and Geysis’ homesick descriptions.

I approached cautiously. “May I?”

“Be my guest!”

“Let yourfriendfeel it, too, your highness.” Fuegis goaded.

I winced. That petty fool. Ash’ren appeared at my side, ready to provide the humiliation Fuegis sought with an aura of violence glimmering in the space between them.

“Woah, woah! Is that safe?” I asked Geysis. “Has it been tested?”

“It has. . .” The drawl of her words did not instill confidence. “Though not on someone with such great power.”

Oh, flames bless my tenuous hold on decorum. My eyes rolled right around my head to meet Ash’ren’s.

“Just a finger, then,” I bade him.

He stepped forward and bent to my ear in a mock bow. “Only one.”

Cheeks hot, I pressed my lips together. Damn him, damn decorum!

“Afraid, Ash Render?” Fuegis pretended to be enthralled by the waterspout.

My heart sped up. Please don’t let him take the bait. Please, let him retain the same self-restraint as before—at least, when the time called for it, for I also loved the unrestrained version of him, but those thoughts were inappropriate at this time. Inappropriate and totally notinvading my brain at all.

Ash’ren’s attention remained solely on me as he extended his middle finger, adorned with black flames, into the water.I was probably the only one who could tell he tensed before impact, but his surprise was delightful. His face brightened, his awestruck gaze flicking to Geysis and sharing the merling’s proud grin before slipping his whole hand into the spray.

“Appears to work even with his impressive amount of power,” I said with a sly smile, daring to meet my ex-suitor’s baleful glare. Screw decorum sometimes.

“It tickles,” Ash’ren reported with a chuckle. “But how will this help your cause?”

“Our top priority is the Firefolk’s safety.” Devil used them in dark magic rituals like they were not living beings, only resources for evil. Poachers invaded the labor rings to kill trophies, harming laborers in the process. All the Firefolk wanted was to be free. A sentiment I dearly wanted to help them achieve. “Possible uses for anything like a battle are still being contemplated. For now, this is not a weapon, but an evacuation tool.”

Many people were afraid of the Firefolk, especially the outsiders pulled into Hell through Devil’s portal. The Firefolk had inhabited these lands too long to imagine, long before the first demons, nymphs, humans, or any other civilized species who possessed a small affinity for magic. Firefolk were made of fire, their blood molten lava, their entire existence dependent on their flames remaining lit. Water would kill them, and it was not always quick.

A shadow crossed Ash’ren’s features, and I knew he remembered the night we snuck onto the bottom of a gryffion carriage in my father’s entourage. When they reached the construction site of Ring Ten, Ash’ren flew us down the bridge and hid. I clung to his back and watched as the Firefolk became steaming puddles of mud.

We were practically babies then, Ash’ren seventeen and me fifteen. Days before, Ash’ren had enlisted in Devil’s army ofdevotees—an enlistment that would be denied due to his foreign birth—in the hopes of gaining my father’s favor. For years we’d been sneaking out, playing and laughing, the tension between us growing to a fever pitch since we’d become teenagers. That night, we didn’t speak for hours. Even when we snuck back into my room to play a game of bargains that usually ended in a breathless battle of tongues, the air was somber.

“The Firefolk have been through enough,” Geysis agreed. Her hand, now dry, landed on my shoulder and squeezed.

Despite the few gasps spurred by her daring touch, I readily accepted the merling’s kindness. Seriously, screw decorum. Hell sucked too badly not to show kindness at every possible chance.

9

Searra

The journey home was long and quiet in the gryffion carriage I shared with Filaris. The massive animal’s paws were soft as a housecat’s on the sandstone-and-bone bridge, working in tandem with its harnessed wings to carry us at a fleet pace.

Although I couldn’t make out the laborers so far below, I watched the rings pass with an exhausting ache in my heart. Demons and humans of every age suffered over bones of long-dead creatures. Whether the Forgotten Ones were gods, ancient Firefolk, or regular people like the ones who bled to find their bones, no one knew. Whatever they’d been, they were Devil’s excuse to work people to early deaths.

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