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Firestorm



Her words shocked me to the core. Fiametta spoke about my mother, Ulani. But Fiametta didn’t know I was the bastard child of the king and I wanted to keep it that way. Swallowing the words I truly wanted to say, I kept it simple, my tone casual.

“So I hear.” I didn’t move from where I was. Anything I did now could be considered a threat. Fiametta walked toward me, circling me, her boot heels clicking against the smooth floor.

“What else do you hear? Tell me the truth, Larkspur, and perhaps we can discuss your—and your friend’s—usefulness to me.”

She was behind me and I struggled not to turn to her. I did not want the queen at my back and my shoulder blades itched as though she’d pressed a knife there. I chose my words carefully while still speaking the truth.

“Cassava had a way of controlling people—it is why the king banished her.”

Fiametta snorted as she came around my right side. “Your king has been under her spell for years. You think he’s broken free because she is gone?”

Here it was, the stab in the dark. “Her ability to control people is gone.”

Her eyebrows shot up and she stopped in front of me. “Truly?”

I nodded. “At least, her ability outside of her natural charms.”

“Interesting.” She turned and walked toward the dungeon again. “Come, see your friend before I kill him.”

“Wait, you said—”

“You told me nothing I didn’t already know. Cassava came to me first after she was banished. I sent her away with ease which told me she could no longer manipulate me as she once had.”

She flung the doors open and gestured. “You have five minutes. If you are not out in that time frame, I will shut the door and lock you in.”

I strode through, not for a second doubting her words. “Peta, count for me. Give me a ten second warning.”

“Done,” she said softly.

The gloom of the dungeon hung like steam in the air, moist and hot. The poor air quality not only made it hard to breathe, but hard to see.

“Ash?”

“Lark.” His voice came from my left and I followed it unerringly. He was chained to the wall, his hands above his head and his legs spread wide. They’d stripped him down to nothing more than his small clothes. I stopped a couple feet from him.

“Are you hurt?”

“I’ve healed.”

“Who did you fight with?”

He shook his head. “I don’t even know. He was all dressed in black and I couldn’t get a good look at him. I assumed he was another prisoner. He attacked me, and I fought back. I don’t think he was expecting that.”

The cloaked one. “He is no prisoner. He’s fighting everything I’m doing to get you out.”

“You can’t get me out, Lark. They have a steel trap of a case. Brand should have had you out of here by now.”

I leaned in and smacked him in the chest. “I’m not leaving without you. We’re a team, we survived the Deep together, and we will damn well survive this.”

A breath eased out of him. “There is nothing you can do, Lark. They have to blame someone for the deaths.”

“Except that the Enders didn’t die because of the wounds inflicted. They died afterward, something, or someone else killed them, Ash. I had paperwork that proved it—”

“Let me guess, the paperwork is missing?”

My whole body seemed to freeze despite the heat and humidity. “Yes, but how could you know that?”

“That is the way cases like this go. The minute you have hope it is snatched away and dashed. Let it go, Lark. I am here, willingly. The more you try to get me out, the more trouble you will find. We both know that.”

He shook his head and I noticed his hair was dull with grime already, dimming the bright blond strands. He dropped his eyes and I felt his words like grease along my soul.

“No, that isn’t going to fly, Ash. Stop lying to me. You don’t really believe that.”

His head snapped up and his mouth dropped which only confirmed the feeling. “How can you even know that?”

“Because she carries Spirit, you dumb dirt boy,” Peta snapped and she carefully adjusted herself on my shoulders. “She’s as loyal as they come and I would think you should be grateful someone is trying to free you.”

His lips tightened and he shook his head. “Lark, this is goodbye. You can’t save me and I . . . I want you to stop trying. This is my penance for losing your mother and Bram. They died on my watch.”

I put my hands on my hips and glared at him. “Really? This bullshit again? Yes, they died. Yes, you should have stopped Cassava and her Sylphs from doing what they did.” Peta sucked in a sharp breath that made her cough, but I kept going. “But the reality is you were as controlled as I was. As my father was—that is nothing we can change now or then. And now when I need you most, you would sacrifice your life for me which is all well and good, but what happens the next time?”

He frowned, “What do you mean the next time?”

Blowing out an exasperated sigh I threw my hands into the air. “You think this is the last time I’m going to be in trouble? It seems to be my middle name. The mother goddess has chosen me for something and I know I can’t do it alone. Whatever it is. I have Peta now,” I reached up and touched her head, “but I need you, too.”

His golden eyes searched my face. “Lark.”
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