Page 75 of The Alien's Cruel Starfrost Domain

Kila’s mouth twisted in irritation. “That’s your reaction to my story? Aren’t you scared at all?”

“I’m sorry, Kila, but I don’t think humans have the same reaction to firelords that the Caix do.”

The Caix looked like she wanted to stomp her foot, but instead, she rolled her eyes and said, “Yes. Most firelords keep some scaled patterning on their skin, even when they’re in the form of real people.”

“How do you know that?” I asked. “Have you ever seen a firelord?”

Kila shivered. “No. And I hope I never do. They eat rayas as snacks.”

“I think it’s time for bed,” Adefina said.

I didn’t object. I needed to think about what to do next. I had no idea how to get back home—but maybe the firelords would know a way.

“Why do the Caix and the firelords hate each other?” I asked Adefina the next afternoon as I helped her roll out dough for Ivrael’s morning bread.

“The hatred runs deep,” Adefina said, her hands never pausing as she worked. “The firelords say we betrayed them during the Great Split, when King Caix created his crown. That we stole their magic and twisted it.” She shook her head. “But ask any Caix child and they'll tell you the firelords were the traitors. That they tried to steal the crown for themselves, to hoard all the power.”

“Which version is true?” I asked, watching as she shaped the dough into perfect rounds.

Adefina's mouth tightened. “Who can say? It was generations ago, and both sides tell the tale differently. But thehatred...” She paused, staring at nothing for a moment. “The hatred is real enough. Fresh enough that it might as well have happened yesterday.”

I considered this as I helped her arrange the bread on the baking sheet. The way she spoke of it reminded me of old family feuds back home, where no one quite remembered what started the fighting, but everyone was too invested to stop.

“Do you ever see them? The firelords?”

“Here?” Adefina scoffed, but her eyes darted toward the window. “Of course not. We keep to our own territories.”

“So they have their own lands?” I tried to sound casual, though my heart raced at this first detailed piece of information about the Icecaix’s enemies.

“Aye. The duke’s domain borders theirs. But His Lordship’s lands are the only Caix holdings that touch the firelords’ lands. And there’s only the one pass through the Ashenfang mountains, so it’s easy enough for us to stay on our side.”

“I thought the firelords could fly?”

“Of course. But it’s in their best interest to maintain the treaty, as well.”

“What about the flying Caix? Like the Starcaix rayas? Or those flying horses of Ivrael’s? Couldn’t the Caix just fly over the mountains, too?”

Adefina shook her head. “Caix magic doesn’t work in the mountain pass, nor in the firelands.”

“Why not?” I frowned. “Wait. Does that have something to do with the crown you told me about?”

“Hush, child.” Adefina craned her neck around to make sure no one was nearby—as if anyone could have managed to sneak into the kitchen while we weren’t looking.

“Even if our magics worked in the firelands,” she finally said, “no Caix would use them.”

“Why not?”

“The treaty forbids it.”

I tilted my head, considering what other questions might help me learn everything I might need to know about the firelords—and moreto the point, about how to reach them. “What if the Caix wanted to update that treaty? How would they get in touch with the firelords?”

Adefina shook her head. “His Lordship has maps showing the pass through the mountains. Anyone who wanted to talk to a firelord would have to pass through the dukedom first—and the duke of these lands has never been known to share that information freely.” Her expression turned suspicious. “Why so many questions?”

“No reason. Just curious.” I dropped the topic again, determined to make it seem like all my interest in the firelords was casual.

But the next time I was sent to dust upstairs, I ducked into Ivrael’s study, looking for maps as I ran my feather duster over various surfaces that had probably already been dusted. It was as good an excuse as any to go digging through his papers.

Unfortunately, I didn’t find anything that day—and all too soon, voices in the hallway sent me scuttling away, afraid of getting caught.

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