It was my enemy. My enemy.
I began with a stream of fire, a simple blast of pure orange flame directed at the line where the seat and back met—what I thought of as its heart. Arcus welded a ribbon of ice to my fire. The fire and frost curled together, two separate strands that merged into one writhing cataract, flowing like a torrent of glistening blue-white water, sinuous and elegant. Blue sparks flared from the column like shooting stars before winking out. I shut my eyes against the blinding light—so bright, it filtered through my eyelids. The room suddenly felt cooler. Like a summer day when a cloud moves over the sun.
The Minax thrashed in agony, its voice grating like knives dragged over chain mail. Cold, cold, hate it! Stop him! Kill him!
I felt its burning, stinging, unbearable hurt as my own.
“Ruby,” Arcus said sharply, “look at me.”
I couldn’t. Couldn’t answer, couldn’t even shake my head. I couldn’t do anything but throw out fire, and I could barely do that. Pain, so much pain. Any more of this and I would—
“Ruby. Look. At. Me.”
Somehow, my muscles obeyed and my head turned. When I opened my eyes, circles of white danced over my vision as if I’d stared directly into the sun. I blinked hard until I could see. Arcus’s pupils were pinpoints, his irises bleached almost white by the reflection of the strange, bright fire. He scrutinized me, searching my eyes, then my wrists. I realized he was searching me for signs of possession.
I turned back to check our progress. The throne wept lava, now reduced to a misshapen blob about half its original size. I gritted my teeth, maintaining the flow. My limbs shook with fatigue. It felt as if I were destroying myself.
“You can do this,” Arcus said, his confidence bolstering mine.
I shut my eyes again. More fire, more pain. Time crawled.
When I opened my eyes, I saw our progress was too slow. I was shaky and exhausted and the throne was still only half-melted. Lava oozed from it in rivulets, sliding toward the edges of the room.
In a moment of inspiration, I used my gift to gather the lava on the floor, lifting it and forcing it back toward the throne. The lava joined the frostfire, bursting with blue-white light and heating to a painful degree. Arcus gasped. There was a shuffle as he changed position, backing up to put a few inches more distance between himself and the lava. The throne melted faster, its outline flattening and shrinking. My fire was nearly spent. I closed my eyes to focus, hoping my last shreds of endurance would be enough.
A shift. A change. The Minax’s pain turned to anticipation. Excitement. Its prison was melting. Its tether had nearly snapped.
So close.
“Stop, Ruby, stop!” Arcus put shaking hands on my shoulders, leaning heavily on me as he brought me back to myself. “It’s done.”
I reined in my fire. A rogue wave of relief knocked my legs out from under me. Arcus was as unsteady as I was, and I brought him down with me. We stayed on our knees, breathing heavily. One of his arms went around my waist and he pulled me against him, my back against his chest.
So close to freedom, the Minax raged. True vessel… please…
Its grief was so acute, I lifted my hand to comply, to try to melt the small, flat shard of rock that sat where the throne had been. Arcus caught my hand in his own and gently pulled my arm down.
“It’s done, Ruby.”
I shuddered.
Then, pulled by an unbearably strong compulsion, I broke free of his hold and picked up the shard. It was smaller than my palm and felt like the kind of smooth stone you’d find in a riverbed.
A sharp sensation of extreme heat flooded my arm and eased into numbness. My head spun, and then nothing hurt at all. I was suddenly floating. Incandescent. I held the shard to my cheek. It was as smooth as silk. Soft as fur. It caressed me like a mother’s hand.
True vessel, it said. Its voice was my voice. Its thoughts, my thoughts. Finally, it breathed. Alone for so long. Now we will be one.
This is what I’d come to Sudesia to find. Suddenly I knew that this was the real reason I’d trained and bled and tested my limits with the Fireblood masters. For this moment.
The shard was swept from my hand. It fell to the floor, bouncing and tumbling end over end until it settled, glistening black, into the shallow indentation where the throne had been. I screeched and dove after it. A viselike grip wrapped around my upper arm.
“Don’t touch it!”
There was a strange, animal keening. It took me a second to realize it came from my own throat. I struggled against Arcus’s restraining hand, heat building in my chest. I needed to burn him—anything to make him let me go.
The Minax was still trapped in that shard and I needed it. I needed the Minax with me. Part of me. Forever.
I threw myself forward. His arms clamped tighter and I was lifted off the floor, my feet kicking ineffectually. I put my head forward, preparing to slam the back of it into his face, when his voice rumbled at my ear.
“Ruby. Please. Remember who you are. Who I am.”
His arms were cold around me. Heat came off me in waves. I heard the unevenness of his breathing. This place, my heat, the lava—it must have been so uncomfortable for him. It was this awareness of him that made me come back to myself.
I sucked in a breath and let out a sob. My muscles went slack.
Arcus exhaled and relaxed. “Come away from it.” He led me away from the shard. I could still see it from the corner of my eye. It winked invitingly, illuminated by the glow of lava just inches away.
Prince Eiko moved forward and scooped up the shard in a handkerchief, depositing it in a pocket.
Arcus took my face in his hands, the cold from his fingers steadying me, the familiar blue of his eyes seizing my gaze and holding it, tethering me to him. To reality.
“It’s all right,” he said soothingly, but I could tell from the underlying tension in his voice that it wasn’t. “We have to leave.”
Under normal circumstances, I would’ve taken action. Offered options. Given orders. But I couldn’t think. Everything was hazy and blunted, the only clear thought that I wanted to get the shard back.
As we moved toward the exit, Prince Eiko led the way. “I will take you to a branch that leads to the eastern side of the island where Ruby said the ship is hidden.”
But as we neared the doorway, a silhouette blocked the opening.
TWENTY-SIX
THE FIGURE STROLLED FORWARD, removing a huge black shawl that fell to the floor. Torchlight shimmered over wheat-gold hair and tinted her white gown with an angry light, making her look both celestial and terrifying. Shadows hollowed out her sunken cheeks. She still looked gaunt, but much stronger than I’d remembered from my visit to the ship.
“Marella?” I murmured in amazement.
I glanced at Arcus. He looked shocked, then furious. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing here, but this isn’t a party, for Tempus’s sake. Get out of here before—”
“You always underestimate me,” she broke in, sounding irritated. “You do realize that just because I dress well doesn’t mean I’m a featherbrain?”
“Marella, this is not the time,” I warned. Then, because I couldn’t help myself, I asked, “How did you even get here?”
“Through the tunnels, of course. I had a guide who knew the location of the throne. My own personal shadow.” Though her words made no sense, her tone was relaxed and smooth, as if we all sat at a grand table for a court dinner. “Now, where is the shard? Ah, yes. I sense the tall one has it. Prince… Eiko, is it? If you’d just hand that to me, I’d be much obliged.” She waltzed up to him and held her palm out.
He regarded her in stunned silence.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Marella explained. “But if you don’t hand over the shard, I’ll have to.”
“Marella,” I said desperately, “what are you doing?”
“I want the shard,” she said slowly, as if talking to a simpleton. She beckoned to Prince Eiko.