MORNING CREPT IN FURTIVELY, A burglar skulking behind black storm clouds. The ocean had darkened to the gray of dirty bathwater, the whitecaps like leftover soap foam. Treetops genuflected to the sky and branches snapped off and sailed away like poplar fluff. Rain lashed the island in horizontal sheets, raging in from the east.

It was the morning of my initiation.

I dressed in my leggings and tunic, then covered those with the clothing provided, accepting Ada’s help to put on the loose-sleeved orange silk robe covered in golden embroidery. Metal wrist guards were embossed with the shape of licking flames. Silk ribbons secured a satin cloak around my neck.

If anyone saw me, they’d think I was fully prepared to pledge my life to the queen today.

Ada smoothed my hair back and wound it in a simple knot. My face in the mirror appeared stark, almost lifeless, the bones protruding more than usual. My pupils were small in the meager light, leaving amber-gold irises below thick, dark lashes.

A princess? No. I looked like a terrified warrior before her first battle.

So many things could go wrong. If any one of the moving parts of our plan went awry, it would throw the rest into chaos.

Kai appeared in the open doorway as Ada disappeared.

“Ready?” he asked, everything about him from his bright hair, rich-toned skin, and engaging grin adding sunshine to the gray day. He was dressed like me, though his tunic hugged the muscles of his shoulders and chest a little more lovingly than mine, and his polished black knee boots added a touch of style.

“You’re early,” I pointed out. But I had expected him to be early. Counted on it, in fact.

He jerked his head toward the hallway. “Carriage is waiting.”

I sat at my dressing table to pull on my calfskin boots. When I stood, I made a show of stumbling, stepping hard on the hem of my cloak. The stitches I’d pre-loosened gave way with a gratifyingly loud rip. Half of the cloak’s collar fell at an odd angle against my shoulder. I cursed and scowled at it.

Kai chuckled and shook his head in wonderment, stepping close to inspect the damage. “Did you just trip over nothing? Surely you will be the clumsiest master ever to take the vows.” His elegant fingers explored the delicate fabric. “Quite a tear. But I don’t suppose they’ll reject you for it. The masters don’t worry much over sartorial concerns.”

I quirked a brow. “You’ll be wasted as a Fireblood master, then.”

He grinned. “I don’t have to wear the robes all the time, little bird.”

He hadn’t called me by that nickname since the night we kissed. The reminder brought heat to my chest. He was standing very close. I could feel the heat of his body and smell the scent of his skin. To avoid whatever was brewing in his warm, intent eyes, I untied my cloak and folded it over my arm. “I’ll get Ada to mend this. It won’t take a minute. You go on without me.”

His face flickered with annoyance. “I’m capable of waiting for a few minutes.”

“No, I’m nervous enough as it is without you tapping your foot in the hallway. Plus, I have to find Ada and… it might take longer than a few minutes. I’ll meet you at the school.”

I swept into the hallway and he fell into step beside me. I avoided his eyes, sensing his growing consternation and not wanting to give myself away. The urge to blurt out the truth was gaining force with every second. I hated keeping things from him, but I’d thought about this all night and decided not to involve him in Arcus’s escape, not to mention the highly punishable act of melting the throne of Sud. The queen might forgive her own husband for his treason, but Kai was merely a well-liked and useful courtier who already had past strikes against him. I didn’t want him to lose all he’d worked for, not for my sake.

I’d shared my fears with Prince Eiko, and he had sworn to do everything in his power to protect Kai from any backlash when I didn’t attend the initiation ceremony. He was sure the queen would see reason, and that she would uphold her promises to Kai.

“Ruby,” Kai said softly, touching my shoulder with three fingers as we reached the bottom of the tower stairs. I drew to a halt. “Is everything all right?”

I took a steadying breath and forced a smile. “Everything is fine. I just want to look perfect for the initiation ceremony.”

“Far be it from me to criticize you for attention to your wardrobe.” His voice softened. “You’re sure nothing is wrong? This is a big step. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I was terrified, too. But the benefits of taking the vows outweigh the sacrifice of some of our freedoms.”

“I know,” I said, staring resolutely at his chest so I didn’t have to see his concern. I was so close to breaking down I could feel the confession forming on my tongue. No matter how I reasoned that Kai would be fine, I couldn’t help a surge of worry on his behalf. And lying was a poor way of repaying everything he’d done for me.

He hesitated before adding, “You know you have to go through with it now, don’t you? She expects it, especially from you. It would be dangerous to refuse.”

“I just want to get my cloak mended.” I forced myself to meet his eyes.

“All right.” He stared at me for another few seconds, then lifted my chin with his index finger and warned, “But if you’re late, I’ll make you pay for drinks at the tavern later.”

“Deal,” I said, wishing again that I didn’t have to lie.

I waved him off with a smile, my gut twisting with guilt and nerves. For all I knew, it could be the last time I saw him.

The realization sent shock waves through my body. It would hurt me far more than I wanted to admit to myself. I would miss him fiercely.

I watched until he moved out of sight, imprinting his bright hair and the lean athleticism of his movements into my memory. When he was gone, I allowed myself a moment to stare at the empty doorway, my chest aching.

With a cleansing breath, I shoved the feelings away. There was no time to spare. I threw the cloak into a corner and raced toward the north tower.

When I reached the hallway at the top, I slowed, relieved to see Prince Eiko already there. Two guards waited outside of Arcus’s door instead of the requisite six. When they saw me, they wore twin expressions of confusion.

“Princess Ruby,” Prince Eiko said with feigned surprise. “I just sent the other guards to attend you at your ceremony, as the queen requested.” His act was entirely unconvincing to my ears. I would warn him later never to consider a career on the stage.

“I came back for something.” We hadn’t exactly rehearsed the details of this part. “You didn’t give me…” I stepped closer to one guard, unable to think of anything I might need from the queen’s consort.

“Ah, yes,” he said, making a show of reaching under his cloak. “I assume you mean this?” With his free hand, he grabbed the guard’s halberd and tossed it away, while with the other he pulled out a dagger in a lightning movement, putting it to the guard’s throat. I did the same thing with my guard, though my dagger came from my sleeve. We had rehearsed this part.

“Open the door,” I ordered, staring into the furious eyes of the guard.

“No,” he said clearly, his jaw defiantly squared.

“You get points for loyalty.” I pushed the blade to his skin. “I’m sure you’ll get special recognition for that at your funeral.” I made a motion as if to draw the edge across his throat, hoping he wouldn’t notice the blade was ceremonial and as dull as a butter knife.

His eyes rounded. “I’ll be dismissed if I allow you in.”

“I assure you,” Prince Eiko said, “the blame will be all mine. I give you my word you won’t suffer for this.”

The guards glanced at each other out of the corners of their eyes, then my guard motioned to the other, who produced a key and unlocked the door.

“Ah-ah,” I cautioned when my guard twitched. “Stay still until I tell you to move.”

As the door swung open, Arcus’s voice came low and resonant, sending a shiver across my skin. “Is this my cue that I’ve overstayed my welcome?”

He grinned at me from the doorway. Despite the tension in my chest, I smiled back.

“On the contrary,” answered Eiko lightly, “my wife would like you to stay. But I think you’ll find our plans preferable.”

Arcus looked surprised to see Prince Eiko, but he deftly moved into the hallway out of the way of the guards, and we pushed them inside the room, keeping our blades raised.

Prince Eiko said, “You have no other key, I take it? Be honest, or my promise to protect you from consequences is void.”

“No other key,” one said sullenly, and the other nodded.

“Your breastplate and helm,” I said with an impatient motion to the taller guard. When he handed them to me, I gave them to Arcus. “Put these on.”

“Sorry about this,” Prince Eiko said to the guards in a cheerful tone. “Someone will no doubt release you soon. Until then…” He put a finger to his lips in a shushing motion. He locked them in and dropped the key into a pocket.

Arcus slid the helm on and was buckling the leather breastplate as we swept down the hallway. I handed him the halberd I’d picked up off the floor.

I gave the prince a sideways look as he passed me at the stairs. “You enjoyed that too much.”

“Intrigue is rather invigorating. I don’t know why I don’t engage in it more often.”

“Thank you for getting me out,” Arcus said quietly from close behind me. “Is my crew involved?”

I shook my head. “Marella was in no condition to plan anything, and the crew isn’t big enough to face all the guards. You can thank Prince Eiko for this. He gave orders so that most of the guards were otherwise occupied.”

“A well-executed plan, which I appreciate. But why is the prince helping us?”

“We have a common goal.” I met his eyes and lowered my voice. “To melt the throne and trap the Minax. I need your help for that part.”

“Of course.” He cleared his throat and said only slightly louder, “Thank you, Prince Eiko.”

“It’s you who will be helping me,” Prince Eiko said. “I’ll breathe easier when the curse is far away.”

As we reached the bottom of the stairs, I reminded Arcus quietly, “Don’t let anyone see your eyes.” Frostblood eyes would stand out like bluebells in a bed of daisies. Luckily the helm with its horizontal eye openings around the narrow nose guard left the upper half of his face in partial shadow.

Arcus stuck close to the wall while Prince Eiko and I stayed on the outside so anyone passing wouldn’t sense the waves of cold coming off his skin. His gift became harder to control in times of stress.

One of the courtiers came around a corner, a heavyset woman dressed in a turquoise gown covered with tiny white ribbons. As she saw us, she smiled and curtsied, blocking our way. “Prince Eiko, shouldn’t the princess be on her way to the initiation at the school? I’m on my way there now.”

Prince Eiko cleared his throat. “We’ll be along shortly, of course. I merely wished to… well, now, Lady Zini, you’re spoiling my surprise. I had planned to give the princess a piece of jewelry for the occasion—an heirloom from the royal vault.”

She clapped her hands in delight. “What a splendid idea! I look forward to seeing you wearing it later, Princess.”

Eiko bent his tall form in a bow. “If you’ll excuse us.”

We left the curious lady behind. Arcus and I followed Prince Eiko along the colonnade of arched windows that ran between the towers, nodding at anyone we passed and praying they didn’t engage us in conversation.

I breathed a sigh of relief when we reached the south tower.

“Hurry,” Eiko whispered, finally showing signs of strain as we moved through the empty entrance hall to a servants’ door, which opened to a dark stairwell leading down. “There’s a hidden entrance to the tunnels down here.”

When we reached the musty lower level, he passed a few doors and opened one to a dusty storage room filled with empty barrels and empty baskets. The prince slid a shelf away from the wall. A hidden door lurked behind it.

He moved into the dim space and we followed. The torches were spaced far apart, with chunks of near darkness in between. Our footsteps echoed against the rock. As we went deeper in, the air thickened and heated. I listened with concern as Arcus’s breath grew labored.

More tunnels branched off at random intervals, but Eiko didn’t hesitate as he led us along. I tried to memorize the path, but after innumerable twists and turns, all the squiggly lines of my mental map blurred together.

Now that we were safe from listening ears, I told Arcus what I knew about the throne, how Prince Eiko was convinced it was influencing the queen, how the book said the throne could be melted with frostfire, how the Minax could be contained by a small shard.

“And if Brother Thistle is right,” I concluded, “then the shard containing the fire Minax could be the key to destroying the frost Minax.”

Eventually, the tunnel opened into a vast cavern. Black pillars stretched from floor to ceiling, disappearing as they exceeded the reach of light from wall-mounted torches. In the center of the room, a large, blocky object glinted with pulsing veins of orange.

The throne of Sud.

Its presence dominated the air, commanded the flow of blood in my veins. Its power beat against me like great black raven wings, soft and swift and irrefutable. When I’d encountered the frost throne, I’d felt a sense of awe mixed with repulsion. Now, the awe was there in full measure, but without the counterbalance of aversion. Instead, I trembled with the need to prostrate myself, to swear allegiance, to serve.

My knees turned to water. I locked them to keep from crumpling to the floor. Arcus stood close, his hand briefly touching my elbow in support, but I was too overcome to respond.

I exhaled, long and slow. A corresponding intake of breath came from the throne, as if the sacrifice of air from my lungs provided the first full, satisfying breath it had taken in an age. I knew from experience that no one could hear the Minax but me.

A whispering started, a silky caress. I have waited. I have waited. You are here. You are here.

The fire Minax tugged at something inside me, as if a thread connected a spot behind my rib cage to the consciousness in the throne. How I longed to rush forward and fling myself against it like an insect against a lit window. Yes, I’m here, I thought, then shook myself. I was aware of the Minax in the same way one is aware of a gentle rain pattering over the roof. The whispers rustled in my mind, persuading rather than demanding. A ceaseless backdrop of chatter.

You are here, you are here, come closer, come to me.

It took vigilant effort not to obey. I put my head against the bumpy rock wall and closed my eyes. I counted to one hundred in Sudesian—anything to keep my mind busy, to drown out the compulsion to move closer to the voice.

“We have very little time,” Prince Eiko reminded me sharply.

I struggled to regain focus. By now, the Fireblood masters would have realized I was late for the initiation ceremony. They might be searching. If they found us, not only would we lose our chance of destroying the throne, but Arcus would face recapture. If the queen had decided to execute him, I didn’t know if I could stop her.

We had to work fast and get him back to his ship. I might even be able to leave with him. If we could melt the throne. If the book was right that a shard would contain the Minax.

A shiver ripped through me as I finally realized the odds against us.

“Ruby, are you ready?” Arcus asked, leaning close. I nodded. We moved toward the throne in tandem.

I knew the exact moment the fire Minax noticed Arcus’s presence.

Frostblood! The bloodthirsty cry echoed in my mind. I clapped my hands over my ears.

Even Arcus seemed to sense it. He recoiled, the sudden jolt and catch of his muscles making him tremble slightly, as if he were an arrow shot into the ground.

I spoke softly, because the throne was on edge, its consciousness straining toward Arcus the way a dog tugs at the end of its leash when it sees a nice fat rabbit nearby. Everything in me wanted to soften the Minax’s craving, to appease it. With my voice, if not my actions.

Kill him, kill him, the throne chanted.

“Stop it,” I whispered to the throne. “You don’t need his death. You have the blood of all the Frostblood servants who made these tunnels.”

Not enough, never enough, the throne chanted. Powerful beyond measure. His frost vastly strong. His death would be a feast. Yours for the killing, Daughter of Darkness. To make you strong beyond measure, your fire and your dark. Unmatched power. Incendiary power. Bliss.

I turned my back on it angrily, my whole body shaking with the effort of separating its desires from my own.

“Arcus,” I said, trying to reclaim myself, to reassert my identity. “Remember the shard must be no smaller than a coin.”

The Minax screamed, a howling excoriation of the quiet places in my mind, like a gale-force wind that scrapes mountains bare. I covered my ears, but the sound was inside me, shearing my nerve endings and stabbing through my veins. My shoulder bashed the rough wall as I tried to escape. Then arms came around me.

“Ruby, I’m here. You’re not alone. We have to do this.” The low rumble of Arcus’s voice soothed me. I grabbed his collar and held on as the scream faded.

“It wants…” I shook my head, eyes wide but unseeing, as if the sound had stolen all other senses.

“Don’t listen to it,” he said, pulling my attention back with his commanding tone. “Listen to me. You can do this. We can.” He held me tight for a few seconds, his cold lips pressing firm kisses to the top of my head, brushing the pulse at my temple, gliding across my cheek.

Everything else faded as the mindless pleasure of feeling his cool lips took every ounce of my attention. It had been so long since we’d touched like this. I realized in that moment how scared I’d been that he would never hold me again. Layers of distance between us fell away, melted by his hands curved tenderly over my shoulders, the gentle brush of lips on my forehead. I wanted to burrow into the comfort he offered and live there for a while, cherished and protected.

The reassuring scent of his skin calmed me, and I drew strength from his size, from his natural self-assurance, from his steadfast belief in me. When I felt ready, I nodded and pushed him away, straightening.

“Let’s get it done,” I said, all calm resolution on the outside, while my insides quaked with nerves.

“If you melt the rock completely, you will free it,” Prince Eiko warned. “You must leave a portion intact.”

Do not trust him. Do not trust him, said the Minax. This throne is yours for the taking. Our union will bring you extraordinary power. Embrace me.

“I know,” I replied to Prince Eiko, shoving the voice away. “Arcus, I’m not… myself right now. I may… I may lose track of the size of the shard.”

His eyes were shadowed, but I felt their intensity. “I’ll tell you when to stop.”

We moved forward until we stood about two arm lengths from the throne. Close enough to attack, but far enough that I couldn’t touch it. I knew instinctively that physical contact with the throne was dangerous for me. The frost Minax had been an invasion, an insidious voice in my head. The fire Minax felt like an extension of self. A universe where I could happily dwell forever.

I shuddered.

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.