Page 13 of Fear the Flames
Cayden uses his index finger to peer out the front of the tent. I flip the book on the table shut, careful not to disturb any of her crystals or incense.
It’s the wrong book.
I whip around, taking in the space again—the trunks. It must be in one of those.
“Everything okay?” Cayden asks from the entrance.
“Just peachy.” I kneel in front of the first trunk. “Fucking gods,” I mutter while gripping the iron lock in my fingers. My hand reaches for the smallest knife on my calf and insert it into the keyhole, twisting and prodding until I hear the click. I slip the lock from the hinge and swing the trunk open—more crystals. I groan, swinging the trunk shut and locking it again. I move on to the next one, repeating the same motions. I slip the lock off and swing the trunk open…books!
“The ritual is over. I’m starting to see people,” Cayden states.
“The book on the table isn’t the book we need,” I shoot out while holding a candle closer to the neatly lined books. “You’re sure Saskia can translate it?” I ask while hooking my index finger onThe Flames of the Dragonand placing it on the floor next to me before locking the trunk again.
“If anyone can, she can,” Cayden confirms while hurrying over to me, grabbing the book from the floor, wrapping his arm around my back, and bringing me to my feet. He urges me toward the back of the tent, “Run!”
Shoving the tent flaps open, we sprint into the night. The crisp air burns my throat. We cut sharp corners and make our way to the safety of the shadows. We’re just about to cross into the tree line when I stop dead in my tracks. Cayden flies past me, not realizing I’ve stopped.
“Elowen Atarah,” the wind whispers my name. Goosebumps rise on my skin.
“What are you doing?” Cayden looks back at me like I’m insane while taking a few steps toward me, drawing his sword, and staring beyond me.
“Queen of Flames,” the same cool voice drifts my way. Cayden’s head snaps in my direction, and I know he hears it too. I turn in place and face the camp again. Members of the cult stand by their tents, heads bowed, while the high priestess walks in front of them. My senses are telling me to turn around and bolt, but my mind forces me to stay in place. She knows who I am, and it seems like she has something to say.
“If any of you touch her, you die,” Cayden declares while stretching his broadsword in front of me, “and I promise to make it painful.” I’m taken back by the defensiveness of his tone. I look over at him and find a menacing scowl claiming his features, banishing the cool arrogance I’m accustomed to. I unsheathe my knives again, sharpening my senses and zoning in on my targets as I always do before a fight.
“We won’t harm her.” The high priestess continues her slow walk to close the distance between us. Her hood covers her face, so I’m unable to make out her features. “I saw you in the fire.”
“She saw us stealing a book in the fire?” I ask Cayden from the corner of my mouth.
“Top tier security,” he mutters back. I may not be a believer, but something about a high priestess watching me steal something through a vision just seems blasphemous. She stops a few feet in front of us, keeping the hood pulled over her eyes.
“The Dragon Queen reborn from the ashes. I have waited a long time to meet you,” she says while reaching into the pocket of her robes. Cayden shifts closer to me, angling his body in a more defensive position.
The high priestess holds up an amulet by a gold chain; it’s beautiful. A diamond-shaped ruby dangles at the bottom with gold branches jutting out and tangling together, making an even larger diamond shape. “Hold out your hand,” she instructs.
“I couldn’t,” I say, feeling guilty for stealing a book from her. The crowd standing along the edge of the camp is also unnerving, but at least they’ve pulled their hoods back; seeing actual human faces makes the situation slightly less eerie.
“It was made for you.” She takes another step closer. I sheath a dagger and reach my hand out to lower Cayden’s sword. He complies but keeps it at the ready should anything change. “It is vital,” she adds.
“Vital in what way?” I reach my hand out, and she gently sets the amulet in my palm.
“When you’re ready, you’ll be able to put it on. Let it guide you,” she answers. I wait for her to continue, but she doesn’t.
“Ready?” I scrunch my brows together and waver uneasily on my feet. “What if I put it on before I’m…ready?”
“The fire your soul was forged in will reclaim you, and to dust, you shall return.”
Oh,justdeath. Why would it be anything less than that? The amulet feels heavy in my hand. Cayden reaches over to take it from me, safely tucking it into his pocket.
“Thank you for the death jewelry, but we really must be on our way,” Cayden states, guiding my stunned body away from the high priestess.
My heavy steps crunch the strewn about twigs and leaves as we finally cross the tree line. Over my shoulder, I hear her say, “Make them fear the flames of a queen.” She pauses for a moment, “We will meet again, Queen of Fire.”
I step away from Cayden and tuck my arms around me as we walk further away from the camp. The more distance we put between ourselves and the priestess, the better I feel.
“Maybe she’ll give me a soul-burning ring next time. I’d really like to be wearing a matching set when I meet my maker,” I remark.
“Are you a fan of matching sets, angel?” Judging by his tone, we’ve moved on from talking about jewelry.
