Page 87 of Wings of Cruelty and Flame

“Take out its flame,” I ordered, sinking deeper into that cold calm, hoping it lasted long enough for me to do this. I didn’t let myself look at the city, didn’t search for flames and rubble, and I was glad I could only hear Raheema’s growl of assent over the thump of my blood, and not whatever screams came from below. “And be careful. I don’t want you to be hurt again.”

I almost stroked her scales but stopped myself, snatching my bare hand away.

Pay attention,she huffed at me, flying in a weaving path past the domes and arches of the mosque, the ruby locked in her sights, too. We were close enough that a shiver of goosebumps went down my arms, and when Raheema sped under one of the arched golden bridges and launched around the cut off the ruby wyvern, I threw my hands out in front of me.

My breath caught when the leather across my legs creaked, loosening a fraction. I couldn’t think about that right now, either. Hot air blasted my hair back from my face, and my stomach cramped as Raheema veered suddenly, lashing out with the wicked talons on the ends of her wing. It wasn’t an easy cut she made across the ruby’s throat; the scales resisted her, no matter how sharp her talons were, and my whole body went cold when she twisted in the air, throwing her weight behind the blow until scales and skin gave and the sharp edge of her wings punched through flesh.

“Raheema,” I gasped when leather tore from metal and one of the buckles ripped free, my leg dangling. Breathless, I slammed it back into her side, tightening the muscles of my thighs. I’d ridden without straps before; I’d be fine. Except I always rode holding onto Mak’s spike, and Raheema had none.

The growl she threw my way told me she was a little busy, avoiding the thrashing wings that battered her, the bucking head of the wyvern. The bottom of my stomach nearly crashed out when she twisted suddenly, ripping her talon out of the ruby’s skin, her sky-blue wing splashed with deep blood.

Before I could tell her to get me closer, she whipped us around so fast that all my weight fell on the last strap keeping me on her back. Leather strained. I didn’t know when the strap across my stomach had come undone, but I didn’t have time to fasten it now. I tightened my thighs, ignoring the shiver of dread in my gut, and slammed my hand into the rough scales of the ruby wyvern, praying, praying…

I couldn’t have this curse of death and only use it to kill my sister. I had to be able to use it for good. I had to do this one thing, take out this wyvern that would slaughter the people of my city, I had to.

Focus,Raheema urged. Her rapid growl told me I needed more magic than I’d ever used before, but she was right there with me. She could feel the flow of my power and this would work.

I sucked in a breath of hot iron and blood and pressed both hands to ruby scales, wishing for once in my life that Icouldkill something with my touch, actually welcoming that darkness, that curse. It had been against my will when I killed Shahzia, when I took the life of the clergyman. Those had been innocents, but this wyvern had taken out our shields, made us vulnerable to enemy wyverns, and would kill all of us. Because they were searching for the lightning soul? No one had even seen proof of it, only a lightning strike after a three-day storm. That meant nothing. That must happen every few years.

Don’t let go, Raheema urged. He’s weakening.

Thank fuck, because I was hot all over, sweat pouring down my face, and it felt like there was literal fire in my hands. When Ilooked at them, expecting to see my skin red from burns, I jolted at the sight of shadows entwined with my fingers, moving like smoke. I ripped my hands away, panting, staring at my hands. It wasn’t bad enough that my touch killed, now my curse had manifested in literal darkness. A physical representation of my dark soul.

Raheema tossed her head in a scoff. Murder doesn’t make a person dark.

She beat her wings suddenly, carrying us away from the ruby as it swung its head, sluggishly, its eyes dull. Atop the wyvern, the rider seemed to realise what was happening and screamed, female and piercing. My breath caught.

“The lightning will come,” she yelled—at me, I realised, and my heart skipped. Her eyes were dark and accusatory. “The darkness will follow and bring only death. Together, it will tear Ithanys asunder, shatter the skies above us with a dozen storms, and we will be overcome. Nothing will remain.”

Cold spread through me at her words, at the omen. She spoke with dead certainty, with power. A prophecy.

Raheema opened her jaws and hit the woman with a blast of fire that seared the air around me, threatening to burn off my eyebrows, singe the tips of my hair. The fierce shriek that followed her flame saidthat’s quite enough of that, crazy lady.

“What was that?” I gasped, fighting a tremor of cold. I’d never heard anyone speak that way before, never heard a prophecy declared with unyielding confidence. If she was right, the lightning soul would lead to the downfall of Ithanys. My … my whole kingdom would crumble.

Raheema jolted aside as the ruby wyvern crashed from the sky, and I gasped, my mind snapping back to the present. I could worry about impending doom later; the Red Star was under threat now.

“Ameirah,” someone yelled, fierce and feminine and distantly familiar. “Draw it aside and I’ll—”

I jumped when Sabira’s brown wyvern swooped over a golden dome to our side, pulling up short when he saw the ruby.

“Oh, you’ve handled it,” Sabira said, looking from the wyvern and its rider to Raheema and I. “Good work. But we need to get that dome back on the spire.”

I was still reeling from the praise that it took me a moment to put together her words. “But how—it fell…”

I leaned to my left to look at the ground, surprise rippling through me when I saw it was intact. Relief hit next, that we could restore the dome, maybe restore the shields, and then—horror and cold, piercing fear when I slipped in the seat.

There was a split second where I tightened my thighs around Raheema’s back, my hand flying up for the reins, but leather slipped through my fingers and my weight pulled me off my wyvern.

Screaming, I fell.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

AMEIRAH

My hair covered my face as wind tore at me, ripping the air from my lungs at the same time it shoved up my nose, choking me. I didn’t know which way was up, couldn’t see anything around me, had no way to stop my fall. And as death came for me, all I could think was at least I’d died doing something worthwhile. Because of Raheema and I, that ruby wyvern and its rider couldn’t hurt anyone else.

I proved them wrong—all the people who said I was a monster who could only cause harm. A death-dealer, abomination, and killer. I was still those things, but I’d done good here. I might have saved people. And that made a strange peace flow through me, relaxing my limbs, unwinding the knot in my chest, soothing the tight pain from my heart.

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