I stared at him hard, blinking, wishing I could read the truth in those blank eyes. “I don’t believe you.”
The continued silence drew my attention to the other guests. All eyes rested on me. Making an effort to compose myself, I took my seat again and the conversation resumed.
“You think they’re here in my keep?” he said softly. “Being tortured for information, perhaps? Search for yourself.”
“You could be keeping them anywhere. Blackcreek Prison isn’t far from the abbey.”
The king sipped his wine, then calmly put his goblet on the table. “It’s good that you understand the danger to those you love, Fireling.”
I suddenly wished I had never learned to care, that I was free from feeling, as I had been in the prison where all I had was hate.
“Tell me what happened in the arena,” he said softly.
I stared hard at my lap, the white knuckles of my hands standing out against the dress. Any information I gave him could be used against me, could prevent me from destroying the throne.
At my silence, the king exhaled and sat back in his chair. “You see me as an enemy,” he said. “But when I look at you, I don’t see an enemy. I see potential.”
I shook my head. Yet another person who wanted to use me, and this time the very person I wanted to destroy.
He toyed with his goblet. “Something happened to you in my arena just before you struck the killing blow. Your eyes turned black.”
A memory came to me, the storyteller in the woods. She said the Minax seeped beneath your skin, turning your eyes and blood black, making you vicious and bloodthirsty, eager to do the Minax’s bidding in exchange for blissful darkness.
I took a sip from my goblet, cursing the unsteadiness of my hand.
“You know something happened to you. One day you’ll trust me enough to tell. But first a gesture of good faith. I do something for you, and you do something for me.”
“What will you do for me?”
He paused, waiting for my full attention. “I will give you a chance to face the captain who killed your mother. To kill him, if you wish.”
I inhaled sharply. How could he say that with the man sitting only a few feet away? “The captain who was under your command, following your orders? You would give him over to me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” I felt a muscle twitch in my neck. “Why would you do that?”
“I told you. To show you that you can trust me. And that if you give me what I want, I’ll continue to reward you in return. There is no reason we can’t find ways to benefit each other.”
I was off-balance, confused, distracted. I had let my guard down, sat and spoken with the king as if I were any willing guest and he my cordial host. Anger at myself and him erupted in my chest, needing an outlet. I whipped my hand down and sent a thin blaze of heat at the table. It sizzled for a second, and when it cooled, a dent was left behind. The crack ran down the center from the head of the table all the way to the end.
In the thick silence that followed, I met his eyes, my chest heaving. He glared back with blazing darkness. If he expected me to sputter an apology, he would be disappointed. I was glad I had cracked his table. I wanted to break it in half.
He lifted a hand. I braced myself for a blow, but he placed it on the table and shot a thin line of ice into the crack, sealing it instantly. Then he grabbed my hand and placed it on the table so that my heat melted the surface. My skin tingled at the contact.
I yanked away, and the king placed his own hand on the table again, refreezing the water. The surface was flat and perfect as if nothing had happened.
“You see?” said the king. “Frost and fire can work together. Perhaps that’s a lesson.”
I stared at the table, at the crack that had been so easily obliterated. I wondered if I would be so easily erased when I outlived my usefulness.
“As you are not hungry, you may go, Fireling.”
Without a word, I stood and walked to the guards, ignoring all the eyes melded to my back. As the doors opened, the king spoke once more.
“You fight again in three days.”
TWENTY-TWO
“I MUST THANK YOU FOR SOMETHING,” said Doreena in her quiet voice. “You killed my brother’s killer.”
Three days had passed, and it had seemed like an eternity. I spent all my time in my room, with only the occasional visit from Doreena to break the monotony. As it was the day of my match, she’d helped me put on the red tunic, freshly laundered and no longer smelling of sweat and blood. Somehow she’d also retrieved the mask I’d worn before. I wore a leather-and-steel gauntlet on my left hand to protect my healing finger.