“I was just nearly killed,” I pointed out shakily, rubbing my throat. “And you’re angry that I’ve spoiled your visit?”
He made a furious gesture toward Drake’s body. “This didn’t go at all the way it was supposed to. I didn’t know you had assassins trailing at your heels.” He punctuated his thoughts with a few more foreign words. If anything, they sounded angrier and filthier than the previous curses.
“Well, I’m so sorry my attempted murder inconvenienced you.” I struggled to stand and slipped back down onto one knee. Rather than helping me up, he pulled at his cuffs and brushed dirt from his tunic, as if fixing his appearance even mattered right now. “If you don’t want to be inconvenienced further, I suggest you leave before anyone comes. The king’s guards might have a few questions about how the southern dignitary happens to be a Fireblood. Considering they thought I was the only one left in Tempesia.”
He gave me a pitying look. “I’m clearly not the southern dignitary. Though the disguise was rather amusing, I admit.”
“Who, then?”
“I gave you my real name.” He took my upper arms and hauled me to my feet. “But I’m not from the Aris Plains. I’m from Sudesia.” My body went rigid. His eyes sparkled. “Yes, we have ships, you know.”
“But the blockade—”
“The provinces are still friendly to us and find ways for our ships to pass through. Not often, mind you. But enough that we heard tales, even before we received your king’s invitation, of the Fireblood girl who destroyed the frost throne. I had come here to…” He paused and shook his head in frustration. “Never mind that. All my plans are in tatters, but I can still help you. Consider this your formal invitation: Come to Sudesia with me.”
I tried to remember how to exhale. That was about the last thing I’d expected him to say.
“Why would I go anywhere with you?”
“Let me spell it out, then: They don’t like you here. They tried to kill you once, and they will try again. I’m offering safety. Freedom. Not to mention knowledge and training that you’re sorely lacking. Your mastery of your gift is on par with my six-year-old niece. A Fireblood school could do wonders for you.”
“If you think insulting me will—”
“More important,” he interrupted, “you mentioned that you want to see peace and harmony in this godsforsaken iceberg of a kingdom. Let me assure you, the emissary of the Aris Plains will never sign any treaties unless my queen sanctions it. The provinces’ ties with Sudesia go back centuries. If you come to Sudesia, perhaps you can propose some kind of agreement.”
In spite of myself, I was intrigued. Though I had no time or space to weigh the odds that he was telling the truth.
“Why are you offering this?” A gust of wind made the few remaining ice trees shiver and chime.
He grabbed my hand. The shock of his skin! The first person I’d known whose temperature matched mine. I was only numbly aware as he slid a ring onto my finger.
“Think of this as a ticket onto my ship. Meet me at the port in Tevros within the week. You could hold the key to peace in these soft little hands.” He caressed my palm with his thumb, then grinned unrepentantly as I yanked it away. “Forgive me, but I don’t care to wait around to be questioned by the king’s soldiers. You’ll find me in a tavern called the Fat Badger near the wharf. If you don’t show up, I’ll assume you prefer assassination to my offer.”
Then he dashed toward the perimeter of the garden, climbed a tree, and hopped as nimbly as a jackrabbit over the wall.
I wasted a few seconds staring after the Fireblood stranger, then realized how incriminating it would look if I were discovered with three injured or dead Frostbloods. I took my skirts in hand and splashed through the melted remains of ice flowers. How was I going to explain what happened? Would anyone believe me? If the court was looking for a way to show that I was a threat, I had practically gift-wrapped myself for them.
When I neared the door to the ballroom, muffled screams came from inside. I forgot everything but the need to make sure Arcus was safe. I grabbed the handle and yanked. Locked. I moved to the right, where light spilled through one of the windows.
And saw chaos.
Gone was the civilized mingling of Frostblood nobility with foreign ambassadors, the tilts of heads and the flutter of fans and the waltzing flare of skirts. In their place was well-dressed warfare—the heft of steel and the blast of frost wielded with animalistic ferocity, the combatants wearing ball gowns and brushed velvet instead of armor. Frostblood against Frostblood.
My eyes roved frantically, searching for Arcus. I couldn’t find him. I threw myself against the window, but it held firm. I searched the ground and, in a few seconds, found a large enough rock to hurl at the glass, which exploded as it shattered. I used another rock to clear the jagged bits at the base, then slid through, only half aware of a stray piece slicing my palm.
I scanned the scene. Some of the guests were at the doors, pulling desperately on the handles and calling for help. Others were slumped on the floor, unconscious or dead. For a second, I wondered if Kai had been complicit in what was clearly a coordinated attack, then dismissed the idea instantly. He’d fought the attackers off with me.
I finally spotted Arcus, standing on the edge of the dais where the musicians had played a waltz only a half hour before. Lord Pell fought alongside him, but they were outnumbered by four other Frostbloods: two men and two women, all of them dressed as servants or guards. I rushed forward and blasted an attacker in the back, who screamed and went down, his black doublet in flames.
As the others turned and threw out their hands, my second blast of flame meeting their frost, my eyes cut to Arcus. Even outnumbered, it was strange that he hadn’t won this fight. His gift was spectacular. But then I realized one of his hands was pressed to his chest near his shoulder. His face was paler than usual, his expression pinched with pain. Blue blood seeped between his fingers. He’d been stabbed.
I saw red.
Rage boiled my blood, lending me strength to bring down another of his attackers. Then Arcus shouted a warning, his gaze fixed behind me. I whirled. Three Frostbloods dressed as servants converged on me, two throwing frost and one wielding a sword. I heard Arcus call my name, but I was too busy dodging the sword and throwing flame at the attacker’s feet, forcing him back. As I twisted to avoid a stream of frost from the side, ice caught me from behind, sending me to the ground.
“Kill the king and his Fireblood harlot, and rise, Blue Legion, rise!” the swordsman snarled.
Shock at his words held me immobile for a fraction of a second, but it was long enough to lose the opportunity to use my fire. I rolled out of the way as his sword tip crashed against the floor.
I found my feet, only to be grabbed from behind, but an elbow and a fist soon dislodged the hold. A few seconds were spent in intense concentration as I threw out fire to keep the attackers, at least six now, from getting close. But there were too many, and I was grabbed on either side, no matter that my sleeves were on fire from my own flame. A sword rose over my head.