Page 304 of Heat of the Everflame

Chapter

Fifty-Eight

Sorae’s feathers ruffled in the wind as I carved a line through the spun-silk clouds, soaring above endless lilac slopes that stretched to the horizon in a rugged sea of snow and stone.

Despite its beauty, the Montios terrain seemed desolate, too harsh for life to survive. After nearly an hour of flying, I hadn’t laid eyes on a single soul.

But much like the black canyons of Umbros, the true story of this realm lay under the surface. Somewhere beneath, a Descended court thrived.

And though I couldn’t seem to find them, I was all but certain they were watching me.

Last night, Luther had not just taken first watch—he’d kept his vigil all night, claiming I needed the sleep to refill my magic and my mother needed to rebuild her strength from her mistreatment in prison. I’d put on a good show of rolling my eyes and scolding him, but my heart couldn’t stop twirling at the gesture.

If he’d been trying to win my mother over, his efforts went sorely unnoticed. She’d offered a stiff smile and a muttered thanks, then they both fell right back into their silent standoff.

The rift between them tore through the center of my heart. My mother had treated Henri like a son, caring for him as genuinely as I had, and I hadn’t realized until now how much that had meant. It wounded me to watch her scowl at the man I loved and watch Luther retreat behind his walls as a result. A confrontation was inevitable, but after waking in the night more than once to find my mother softly weeping over my father’s death, I begrudgingly held my tongue.

Besides, my mother and I had our own battles to fight. My questions for her loomed large, casting us in their shadow. I’d planned to wait until our reunion with Teller, knowing he deserved the same answers, but I wasn’t sure how much longer I could last.

She was a fuse, and I was a bomb. It was no longer a question of whether I would explode, but where and when—and who would get hurt in the blast.

At dawn, we’d moved to a cave where Luther could sleep while my mother and I kept watch. When I felt the brush of his aura as his magic temporarily slipped through the Forging spell’s grip, I gave my mother a vague excuse aboutscouting for food and waterand jumped on Sorae’s back, hurriedly flying away.

It hadn’t entirely been a lie, but within minutes, I spotted a nearby stream with an abundance of animals we could hunt. When I bit down and urged Sorae to keep flying, I had to admit to myself I had a bigger reason to get away.

I needed air. Air, space, and solitude. Time to think, time to come to terms with what happened in Fortos and the new Crown that sat on my head. Time to wrestle the conflicting emotions that were fueling me on while simultaneously burning all the oxygen from my lungs.

Time to plan a war.

And, if Ihappenedto find some Montios Descended to provoke into a fight so I could absorb their magic and go home—well, I wouldn’t complain.

Barren as it was, there was a gentle beauty to the Montios terrain. The immovability of the mountains was strangely soothing, a reminder of their calm permanence through millennia of conflict. These slopes had been here long before the Kindred, and they would still be here long after the Descended died out. They’d outlasted the rise and fall of countless rulers, and they would survive the horrors of any war. Whatever became of me and my fate, these mountains would endure. Somehow, that gave me peace.

Sorae whirred excitedly, which I’d learned the hard way was a warning to tighten my grip. My stomach went weightless as she plunged into a spiraling freefall, then snapped her wings out at the last second to send us skirting along an incline of jagged rock. She banked to the left and swept past a waterfall, her wingbeats stirring the mist into tiny droplets that clung to my unbound hair.

Stuck at the Crown’s side century after century, Sorae so rarely had the chance to fly for her own pleasure. When I’d commanded her to let loose and explore, the bliss that coated the bond was as heady as a drug. I whooped and hollered, egging her on with my laughter, embracing every surge of adrenaline her aerobatics sent blazing through my veins. It was a relief to feel my heart pounding from welcome excitement for a change and exactly what I’d needed to return a smile to my face.

“Come on,” I mumbled as I scoured the ground. “Show yourselves. Come outside and play.”

Sorae snorted in agreement, clouds of smoke puffing from her nostrils.

I grinned. “Aren’t you supposed to keep meoutof trouble?”

A proud kind of confidence flickered back. She’d seen enough of my battles to know I wouldn’t be in any real danger from a minor skirmish, and after being wounded yesterday, she was champing at the bit for a brawl, too.

It struck me suddenly that Sorae must have done this same thing with the goddess Lumnos all those millennia ago, traversing the skies over the forests she would eventually claim as her own.

“Did you love Lumnos?” I asked Sorae, stroking my hand along her dark, iridescent scales. “Do you miss her?”

Jumbled emotions came answering back. An enduring love for her Kindred master, whom Sorae had followed to this world out of loyalty, not obligation. Sadness, even now, at her loss. Resentment, for the chains the Kindred had imposed on her kind, prioritizing the safety of their Descended offspring over the gryverns’ freedom. Betrayal, for the separation from her beloved Tybold.

My temper rankled, wondering how the Kindred could have done such a thing to the creatures who had stood by them so faithfully. Then again, what moral superiority could I claim, when my own choices had entrapped my brother’s freedom though his loyalty to me rivaled even Luther’s?

“So you cared for Lumnos,” I mused aloud. “What of the other Kindred, were you fond of them?”

A strange, strangled feeling came washing back. Like there was something she wished to share but could not.

My eyebrows rose slowly. “Were there some you disliked?”

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