Page 13 of War Of Fire and Fortune
“You’re going to kill him!” she shouted.
“If he’s the Peacebringer, a little fire won’t kill him. Hopefully, it’ll wake up whatever power is sleeping in him,” Father growled. He flexed his hands, still smoldering, knuckles blackened with soot. Snarling, he paced away in anger.
I lay there, chest heaving, fighting not to sob. Every inch of my body throbbed. I felt the blood and sweat pooling under my head, sticky and warm, and stared up at the gold swirls of the ceiling. This room had always been the worst prison. No bars, just tradition and expectation, walls lined with the ghosts of ancestors glaring down from portraits.
My mother managed to help me sit up, doing her best to ensure her iron cuffs didn’t brush against my skin.
I slumped forward, pressing my forehead to the floor. The heat had baked the tiles; they scorched the skin where my sweat made contact. I waited for the pain to recede, for the trembling to stop. It didn’t. I knew it wouldn’t. This was the worst damage he’d ever inflicted.
My mother dragged me upright, and we stood there a moment so I could catch my breath.
“We need to get you to Willow,” she said as we made our way to Willow’s quarters one step at a time. By the time we made it there, my eyes were starting to close of their own accord. The adrenaline was wearing off, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d be awake.
My mother half-carried, half-dragged me into Willow’s room, every step sending aftershocks of pain through my ruined body.Willow’s door was already open, as if she had been waiting for us. Honestly, she probably had been.
She rose from her chair with the effortless grace of the water fae and moved to us urgently, pale blue, royal robes dragging behind her.
“Valos went too far this time. We need your help,” my mother implored her.
“Of course,” she said, taking my weight from my mother’s arms and guiding me to the cot. “Breathe, Kade,” Willow instructed, her voice steady and low. I tried. My throat convulsed, but the scream died away, replaced by an animalistic, broken gasp. Water pooled along the burns, trickling into cracks, coaxing the pain from bone and sinew. My vision tunneled, but I fought to keep my eyes open, to focus on Willow’s face.
The water kept coming, flooding over me in rippling waves. My skin began to numb, the burning ebbing to a dull throb. The wounds closed, not perfectly but enough to stop the bleeding, leaving behind marred, pink skin. I started breathing easier.
“I understand why you told me about her now . . . ,” I murmured, and she looked at me, confused. “My mate. Thinking of her is what keeps me going during the bad days. I think you knew that I needed something to hold onto since it’s only gotten worse over the years.” Understanding washed over Willow’s features. Her hands froze above my chest. The beads of water hung suspended in the air, glowing faintly.
“I’m sorry you’ve had to endure so much torment so young. But I think it’s coming to an end. Valos’s ambitions grow every day. You know this. But something changed this morning. My sister saw the Sky Elves in our session with him. And the ruin to come.” She looked at me then. “We do not have months or years. We have days. Maybe less before she tells him what she saw. I’ve done all I can to try and save my sister from her fate, but now it is time to let her go. We need to move forward with our plans ofescape.” She looked to my mother then. Willow had told us what she had seen, what would happen, and we had made plans over the years, but it had been a waiting game this entire time—until now.
“So what next?” I rasped, sitting up through the haze of lingering pain.
Willow set a hand over mine. “We run. I will escape with your mother tomorrow night. You need to write a letter letting your father know you will be leaving to further your training with the Western Wyverns by morning because you feel he has taught you all he can. He will know in a few days’ time that your mother and I are gone, and then we will have a couple of years if we’re lucky while he builds up his armies and initiates the war on Heavensreach.”
Mother stepped closer, knelt beside the cot, and grabbed Willow’s hand. “What about Rhet and Valla? I can’t just leave them.”
Willow’s gaze dropped. “Rhet will join the rebellion alongside Kade in time. But Valla—” She shook her head.“She is already his. If you try to take her, the whole plan collapses. You will die and we will not win this war.”
Mother’s face shattered. She stared at the floor. “You expect me to leave my daughter behind?”
“I expect you to do what needs to be done,” Willow said, voice low but steely. “She is gone, Your Majesty. I have seen it. You cannot change her fate.” A beat passed before Willow continued, “We all have to play our roles for this to work.”
My mother finally looked up, tears streaming freely down her face, and she nodded.
Chapter Six
Emelyn
The air hung heavy with the scent of smoke and sweat. My eyes scanned the rows of tents, searching for Atreya's distinctive bigger pavilion. Emeris and Baetos screeched overhead, scouting the mountains together to save the rebellion time.
I tapped the tent before entering. I lifted the flap and Atreya's face appeared, her dark hair glinting in the dim light. "Come in," she said, standing up, gripping the edges of her desk looking up from the papers strewn over the wood.
I ducked inside, blinking as my eyes adjusted to the lighting. Maps and scrolls littered every surface. Did she know about Kade? She was the leader of the rebellion, so I’d assumed Atreya knew everything. But then why had she said nothing? If Atreyahad known all along, what else had she been keeping from me? What other secrets were buried beneath her calm, calculating exterior? I couldn’t move forward without knowing.
My throat tightened as I forced the question out, my voice trembling under the strain of it.
“Did you know aboutCrow? All this time . . .”
She hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line before she answered, “Yes.”
My stomach churned, the fragile hope I hadn’t even realized I was clinging to shattering in an instant. Of course, she knew. That was who Atreya was—always a step ahead, always holding her cards close to her chest.
