Only the glow of lava lit the cavernous space. Then suddenly, there came a blinding flash of light. On the opposite bank of the river, two masters made fire blaze in their cupped hands, brightening their orange robes and giving them the appearance of living torches. Light and shadow trembled over their solemn faces.
In the center, between the masters, a figure materialized from the dark, her gold filigree crown shining with reflected firelight like an underground sun. She wore an orange-and-red gown that flared into a train, the edges cleverly sewn to mimic flames. Jewel-laden gold chains hung from her neck and wrists, and each of her fingers winked with rings. She moved gracefully, appearing almost to float over the coarse floor, a crimson fog filled with a swarm of glittering fireflies. She halted at the edge of the river.
“You stand at a crossroads,” Queen Nalani said in a melodic, ringing voice. “Behind you, your lonely past. Born isolated and cut off from your people, you were forced to rely on your own strength, your own counsel, your own solitary power—your life as easily extinguished as a single candle. Your very survival is a triumph.”
I swallowed. I’d expected her to say something by rote, but it sounded as if she’d composed the speech especially for me. Or perhaps she hadn’t, and I just felt she had. Either way, I felt each word deeply, as if she had pulled thoughts and impressions from my very soul and spoken them aloud.
“Ahead of you, your future.” She gestured to the masters. “The chance to join your strength with others, to live among those who would die for you, to be embraced by a tradition that is much greater than yourself, to join your fire with a conflagration, consuming your enemies even as your old self is consumed, laying down your petty striving and meager aspirations in favor of a larger cause.”
She paused. Anticipation and dread wound my nerves tight. I became aware of my breath, which was coming too fast, and felt the pain of my nails biting into the tender flesh of my palms.
“Should you pass,” she said, “you will become a Fireblood master. Once you cross that threshold, there is no returning to your previous existence. You will be altered, transformed—your old self discarded in favor of a stronger self. You will be born anew.”
She gestured, and the masters extinguished their flames. The room was again lit only by the glow of lava.
“You have accomplished much,” the queen continued, “but a vital step must be taken to reach the final prize. There is no improvement but through sacrifice, no gain but through loss. To form a new self, you must discard what is worn and broken. You must kill those parts of yourself that diminish you. And in so doing, you will rise higher than you imagined possible, become a vital facet of a priceless gem. You will join a legacy, one of the kingdom’s most revered protectors, one of my most cherished servants.” The firelight flickered. The queen’s expression darkened. “But first, you must earn my trust.”
She made a small gesture and the masters stepped back into the shadows in perfect accord, as if she held strings that controlled them.
“The test is simple: Obey me and pass. Deny me and fail. The choice is yours.”
She moved to the side. The masters relit the fire in their hands and moved forward, a figure between them.
My heart sank. I had hoped for a different test of obedience that wouldn’t involve anyone’s death, but this was exactly as Kai had described. Some unfortunate prisoner was being hauled before me and the queen would order me to execute him. Could I do it? I’d killed before to save myself, but this was entirely different. This prisoner would be helpless, unable to fight back. Even if I was doing it to try to save Tempesia from the Minax, did that goal justify killing an innocent person? Was it worth becoming a murderer?
The glow from the masters’ hands caught the prisoner’s hair, which was like fire on its own: tawny chestnut and auburn with streaks of bright orange. I stared in shock and disbelief. He stared back at me, stony-faced and silent.
“Kai,” I breathed. I immediately faced the queen and said very clearly, “No.”
To my surprise, she showed no sign of anger at my defiance. Instead, her eyes fairly sparkled with enjoyment. “You haven’t even received my order, child.”
It didn’t matter what the incentive was—what I could gain by passing her test, how hard it would be to find a way to defeat the Minax without the masters’ help, or what she would do to me if I failed. I would not kill Kai. My heart hurt even thinking about it. I would figure out another way to destroy the Minax. I would search the rest of the school for the book; I would tell Prince Eiko my secrets and beg for his help.
I shook my head. “I won’t touch him.” As far as I was concerned, the trial was over. I wanted to turn my back and walk out. But I knew she wouldn’t make it that easy.
She folded her arms, her rings making pinpoints of reflected light dance over the dark walls. “There are consequences to disobeying me, Ruby. I cannot condone dissension. Surely even a stranger to our customs understands this.”
I closed my eyes, thinking of what a fool I’d been. I’d come to Sudesia too trustingly, just as Arcus had warned, sure that the Fireblood queen would be better than King Rasmus. Instead, I’d found a ruler whose expectations of unquestioning obedience were only too familiar.
“Even still,” I said firmly. “I won’t hurt him.”
She laughed, the sound echoing off the walls. My eyes snapped to Kai. He still looked serious, almost grim. He didn’t, however, look scared.
“Then it’s a good thing I don’t wish you to harm him, isn’t it?” She reached out and beckoned to Kai, who stepped forward. “On the contrary, what I wish for is an alliance that will benefit both of you. And me as well, of course. A union that will benefit the entire kingdom, and guarantee the uncontested succession of my throne. No need to look so worried, child.” Her voice gentled—gentled! I’d never seen her as being capable of softness—and her expression was almost fond. “I have a feeling you won’t mind what I’m asking of you.”
A crease formed between my brows. “Your Majesty, I admit I’m confused. What do you wish me to do?”
“Prince Kai has already agreed,” she said, “and you need to agree as well. How fortunate that to pass your trial, no blood need be spilled. Instead, we have cause for joy.”
My teeth snapped together at the way she was drawing this out. Her barely suppressed delight was almost as frightening as her anger.
She took a step back and gestured to Kai, then me. “Prince Kai, I will not rob you of this moment. You may ask her yourself.”
Kai was silent for a moment. Then he dropped down on one knee. A strange enough sight, but with a few feet of lava between us, it was bizarre.
If the queen thought I was confused before—
“Ruby,” Kai said in a strained voice that was a far cry from his usual lackadaisical tones, “I know I am far from worthy of you, but would you do me the great honor of consenting to be my wife?”
If the sky had rained fire, I would have been less shocked.
I turned to stone. At least, that’s what it felt like. I didn’t move, didn’t breathe, didn’t even blink for what felt like a full minute. Then Kai lifted a brow and the air rushed back into my lungs.
“You’re not serious” was all I could manage.
He produced a winning, though forced, smile. “I assure you, the queen—that is, I—am quite serious. I’m asking for your hand in marriage.”
“To…you,” I said with heavy emphasis.
“Yes, that is why I am the one asking.” Despite his blinding display of teeth, he spoke as if his jaw was too rigid to form words properly.
“To me.” I said it carefully, as if testing out new words in a foreign language.
“Which is why it is your hand I’m asking for.” Whatever patience he’d had seemed to be seeping away. Also, I noticed a rather unmistakable urgency in his expression. He shifted his eyes meaningfully toward the queen and raised a brow. I glanced at Queen Nalani and saw that her smile had faded.