THREE LANTERNS WENT OUT, ONE after the other, leaving only the nearest one casting a small circle of light around a shadowy figure. It was the footman I’d seen staring at me earlier.

“We had all kinds of elaborate plans to isolate you, Firefilth,” he said, “and then you wander out here.” He turned a menacing look on the dignitary. “We didn’t expect you tonight, but we’ll take the good fortune bestowed by Fors.”

Though the dignitary hadn’t changed position, tension radiated from him. “The god of the north wind has nothing to do with my presence here.”

“Who are you?” I asked the blond man.

His grin widened. “I’ve been told I bear a resemblance to my brother. Surely you haven’t forgotten him.”

In the space of a breath, it all snapped into place. The sandy-blond hair, the familiar arrogant grin. I would never forget the man he resembled—the man who’d killed my mother. “You’re Captain Drake’s brother.”

“Oh, so the lady does remember. And do you also recall his wife and daughter, watching from the crowd, sobbing their eyes out as you took my brother’s life in the arena?”

I swallowed. “I do.”

“Not that you care, but Ilva died within a week of her husband. They say it was a fever, but I know the truth. Grief killed her. Then my poor orphaned niece sent me a message that my brother’s killer was being treated as a lady and living in the castle. Fortunately, there’s a sizable group of people who want to get rid of you. I only had to join their ranks and wait for an opportunity.”

In seconds, we were surrounded by half a dozen masked figures holding swords. Two of them held up hands coated in frost.

“Run,” I whispered. “I’ll hold them off.”

My companion scoffed. “I was about to say the same to you.”

I threw him a glance from the corner of my eye. “The peace talks depend on you. Go.”

“I’m not here to sign any treaties. Shall we, then?”

The dignitary raised his palms and, in a gesture that held me immobile with stupefied shock, sent twin streams of vivid orange flames toward the sculptures and trees and shrubs made of ice, sweeping back and forth in a searing arc that sent our attackers shouting and stumbling and running for cover. The ice melted into a rushing stream that flowed onto the gravel path, sloshing over my toes and into my thin slippers. I continued to stare at the dignitary—the Fireblood—only the crash of my heart assuring me I hadn’t actually turned to stone.

“Don’t worry,” he said to Drake. “That was just a little stretch. I have plenty left.” He beckoned them forward with a bend of his fingers.

“Where the blazes did you come from?” Drake snarled. “There are no Firebloods left in Tempesia, aside from her. My brother made sure of that. I’d stake my life on it.”

I was almost tempted to thank him for asking. I was wondering the same thing.

The Fireblood laughed. “A foolish bet, since it’s obvious you’ve already lost. Though I’ll gladly collect your forfeit.” Cupping his hands together, he slowly pulled them apart to create a dense ball of flame that grew in size and intensity. Most of the attackers turned and ran, their boots sliding on the wet ground. Only the two Frostbloods remained with Drake, all three of them lifting their palms toward us in readiness.

“My brother didn’t have the gift,” said Drake, “but I do. Finally, it’s a fair fight.”

“Hardly fair when you outnumber us three to two,” I pointed out, my voice unsteady. I still couldn’t believe I was standing next to another Fireblood. Be amazed later. Fight now.

Drake shrugged. “I was never very good at arithmetic.” He yelled an order, and a low, protective wall of frost formed. Then a blast of ice slammed toward us. My hands were ready, but the attack still knocked me off my feet. The dignitary, or whoever he was, managed to remain standing.

Drake was right; a Fireblood of his caliber would never have escaped Rasmus’s notice.

“Who are you really?” I asked, pushing to my feet.

“My name is Kai,” he answered.

“That’s not what I—”

Another wave of frost knocked us back, turning to smoke and steam as it met our fire.

“Form a shield,” Kai said, demonstrating by making a swirling lozenge of fire that grew in size. “Hold it steady. With me.”

I watched and mirrored him. When the two masses of flames combined, light blinded me. I felt my way through the move, forcing the fire into an ever-larger oval.

“Stand your ground,” he told me. “Now push forward on my mark. Hold. Hold. Now!”

We slammed the pulsing fire shield ahead in unison and heard surprised shouts as we broke through their icy wall and the thuds of bodies as they hit the earth. As my vision cleared, I saw figures on the ground, unmoving. I sucked in a breath and stepped toward them.

“Leave them,” said Kai, grabbing my arm. I shook free and ran the rest of the way to the attackers, pulling off the first Frostblood’s mask.

It was Lord Regier. He wasn’t breathing. I found no pulse at his throat.

The other mask revealed his wife, Lady Regier.

“Oh Tempus,” I said. “They’re from Arcus’s council. He’ll be devastated.”

I took her wrist, feeling a faint pulse. Kai shouted a warning and ran toward me, but he halted abruptly at the same moment the sharp edge of a steel blade bit into the skin at my throat.

“Stand slowly,” Drake ordered from close behind me.

I did as he asked, barely breathing as his other arm cinched tight around my waist.

“You kill her, I kill you,” said Kai. “Very simple. Let her go.”

“I swore to Fors that she would die today and I’ve never broken an oath. Now you, on the other hand, the Blue Legion wanted you dead for daring to come here. But if you leave without signing the treaty, they might let you live.”

“Well, normally, I would be only too willing to save my own precious skin,” said Kai with alarming calm—alarming to me, at least, since I was fairly sure I couldn’t summon my heat without Drake slicing me first. “But it happens that there is something I want rather badly—and it hinges on keeping this girl alive.” He spread his hands in an apologetic gesture. “So I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you again to let her go.”

Drake shook his head, the motion making the knife saw gently back and forth against my neck. I didn’t dare bat an eyelash at the sting.

“You can do your best to kill me once she’s dead,” Drake said, “but an oath is an oath. She dies now.” His lips touched my ear as he whispered, “This is for my brother, Firefilth.”

His arm tensed, and for a second I thought the last word I ever heard would be “Firefilth,” and the last thing I ever saw would be a very annoyed-looking Fireblood with hair that refused to be anything but vivid orange, even in the dim light of a nighttime garden.

But then the vivid orange spread and lit the sky in a whip of flame that curled above and behind me, and the tension in Drake’s arm became a tremble in the rest of his body. He fought back, his chest coating with frost as he tried to ward off the fire, but the heat intensified and he screamed.

And then my hands, which had been pressed against his arm, suddenly found they had pushed free, and I was stumbling forward onto my hands and knees, getting thoroughly soaked in an icy pool of water.

I stayed there, just trying to catch my breath. I’d been about to die, and then I hadn’t.

Fire had saved me. And it hadn’t been my own.

I finally looked up to see Kai shaking his head, no longer just annoyed but properly furious. “And how long do you think I can stay here now that I’ve killed a Frostblood, hmm? They’ll be out looking for me in droves!” He spat a few words in what I could have sworn was Sudesian. From the tone, I was pretty sure he was cursing.

“I was just nearly killed,” I pointed out shakily, rubbing my throat. “And you’re angry that I’ve spoiled your visit?”

He made a furious gesture toward Drake’s body. “This didn’t go at all the way it was supposed to. I didn’t know you had assassins trailing at your heels.” He punctuated his thoughts with a few more foreign words. If anything, they sounded angrier and filthier than the previous curses.

“Well, I’m so sorry my attempted murder inconvenienced you.” I struggled to stand and slipped back down onto one knee. Rather than helping me up, he pulled at his cuffs and brushed dirt from his tunic, as if fixing his appearance even mattered right now. “If you don’t want to be inconvenienced further, I suggest you leave before anyone comes. The king’s guards might have a few questions about how the southern dignitary happens to be a Fireblood. Considering they thought I was the only one left in Tempesia.”

He gave me a pitying look. “I’m clearly not the southern dignitary. Though the disguise was rather amusing, I admit.”

“Who, then?”

“I gave you my real name.” He took my upper arms and hauled me to my feet. “But I’m not from the Aris Plains. I’m from Sudesia.” My body went rigid. His eyes sparkled. “Yes, we have ships, you know.”

“But the blockade—”

“The provinces are still friendly to us and find ways for our ships to pass through. Not often, mind you. But enough that we heard tales, even before we received your king’s invitation, of the Fireblood girl who destroyed the frost throne. I had come here to…” He paused and shook his head in frustration. “Never mind that. All my plans are in tatters, but I can still help you. Consider this your formal invitation: Come to Sudesia with me.”

I tried to remember how to exhale. That was about the last thing I’d expected him to say.

“Why would I go anywhere with you?”

“Let me spell it out, then: They don’t like you here. They tried to kill you once, and they will try again. I’m offering safety. Freedom. Not to mention knowledge and training that you’re sorely lacking. Your mastery of your gift is on par with my six-year-old niece. A Fireblood school could do wonders for you.”

“If you think insulting me will—”

“More important,” he interrupted, “you mentioned that you want to see peace and harmony in this godsforsaken iceberg of a kingdom. Let me assure you, the emissary of the Aris Plains will never sign any treaties unless my queen sanctions it. The provinces’ ties with Sudesia go back centuries. If you come to Sudesia, perhaps you can propose some kind of agreement.”

In spite of myself, I was intrigued. Though I had no time or space to weigh the odds that he was telling the truth.

“Why are you offering this?” A gust of wind made the few remaining ice trees shiver and chime.

He grabbed my hand. The shock of his skin! The first person I’d known whose temperature matched mine. I was only numbly aware as he slid a ring onto my finger.

“Think of this as a ticket onto my ship. Meet me at the port in Tevros within the week. You could hold the key to peace in these soft little hands.” He caressed my palm with his thumb, then grinned unrepentantly as I yanked it away. “Forgive me, but I don’t care to wait around to be questioned by the king’s soldiers. You’ll find me in a tavern called the Fat Badger near the wharf. If you don’t show up, I’ll assume you prefer assassination to my offer.”

Then he dashed toward the perimeter of the garden, climbed a tree, and hopped as nimbly as a jackrabbit over the wall.

I wasted a few seconds staring after the Fireblood stranger, then realized how incriminating it would look if I were discovered with three injured or dead Frostbloods. I took my skirts in hand and splashed through the melted remains of ice flowers. How was I going to explain what happened? Would anyone believe me? If the court was looking for a way to show that I was a threat, I had practically gift-wrapped myself for them.

When I neared the door to the ballroom, muffled screams came from inside. I forgot everything but the need to make sure Arcus was safe. I grabbed the handle and yanked. Locked. I moved to the right, where light spilled through one of the windows.

And saw chaos.

Gone was the civilized mingling of Frostblood nobility with foreign ambassadors, the tilts of heads and the flutter of fans and the waltzing flare of skirts. In their place was well-dressed warfare—the heft of steel and the blast of frost wielded with animalistic ferocity, the combatants wearing ball gowns and brushed velvet instead of armor. Frostblood against Frostblood.

My eyes roved frantically, searching for Arcus. I couldn’t find him. I threw myself against the window, but it held firm. I searched the ground and, in a few seconds, found a large enough rock to hurl at the glass, which exploded as it shattered. I used another rock to clear the jagged bits at the base, then slid through, only half aware of a stray piece slicing my palm.

I scanned the scene. Some of the guests were at the doors, pulling desperately on the handles and calling for help. Others were slumped on the floor, unconscious or dead. For a second, I wondered if Kai had been complicit in what was clearly a coordinated attack, then dismissed the idea instantly. He’d fought the attackers off with me.

I finally spotted Arcus, standing on the edge of the dais where the musicians had played a waltz only a half hour before. Lord Pell fought alongside him, but they were outnumbered by four other Frostbloods: two men and two women, all of them dressed as servants or guards. I rushed forward and blasted an attacker in the back, who screamed and went down, his black doublet in flames.

As the others turned and threw out their hands, my second blast of flame meeting their frost, my eyes cut to Arcus. Even outnumbered, it was strange that he hadn’t won this fight. His gift was spectacular. But then I realized one of his hands was pressed to his chest near his shoulder. His face was paler than usual, his expression pinched with pain. Blue blood seeped between his fingers. He’d been stabbed.

I saw red.

Rage boiled my blood, lending me strength to bring down another of his attackers. Then Arcus shouted a warning, his gaze fixed behind me. I whirled. Three Frostbloods dressed as servants converged on me, two throwing frost and one wielding a sword. I heard Arcus call my name, but I was too busy dodging the sword and throwing flame at the attacker’s feet, forcing him back. As I twisted to avoid a stream of frost from the side, ice caught me from behind, sending me to the ground.

“Kill the king and his Fireblood harlot, and rise, Blue Legion, rise!” the swordsman snarled.

Shock at his words held me immobile for a fraction of a second, but it was long enough to lose the opportunity to use my fire. I rolled out of the way as his sword tip crashed against the floor.

I found my feet, only to be grabbed from behind, but an elbow and a fist soon dislodged the hold. A few seconds were spent in intense concentration as I threw out fire to keep the attackers, at least six now, from getting close. But there were too many, and I was grabbed on either side, no matter that my sleeves were on fire from my own flame. A sword rose over my head.

And clattered to the ballroom floor. The servant’s blue eyes blinked in shock, blue blood sliding from both nostrils as he crumpled. Lord Pell, standing behind the man, yanked his blade from the body. My other attackers were completely immobile, as if someone had stopped time. I glanced at the two Frostbloods holding me, a man and a woman, both encased in ice, their hands frozen around my arms. The fire on my sleeves was out, my dress in blackened tatters at the edges.

My head jerked up to check on Arcus. He stood on the dais, his hands thrust out. He had frozen my attackers in a single burst of frost. There was murder in his eyes, and for a fraction of a second, I saw his brother in him. The rage and hatred, the thirst for death. As if the Minax preyed on him now, twisting his fears and hurts and dusting away his pain to make him into someone who was incapable of mercy. I honed in on Arcus’s eyes, half expecting them to be pure shining onyx. But they were still blue.

He blinked, his eyes focusing on me. He mouthed my name. And then he swayed, his eyelashes fluttering.

I pushed out heat into my arms, broke free of the ice, and ran to him, stepping over bodies along the way. I reached my arms up and caught him as he fell, giving a surprised oof as I was crushed under his muscular bulk.

“Arcus,” I groaned. How ironic to survive the fight only to be flattened under the unforgiving weight of the person who had saved my life. A hysterical giggle bubbled up but came out as a strangled gasp. The laughter fled as I realized he wasn’t moving. “No,” I whispered, struggling to free myself.

Hands slid around Arcus’s arms and for a second I panicked, expecting more enemies, but it was Lord Pell and Lord Manus, both of them bloody and stern-faced, gently pulling Arcus to his feet and holding him between them.

I sucked in a relieved breath and stood, moving my hands to Arcus’s cheeks. “Wake up, please. Arcus, please.” My words were whispered prayers, frantic and raw in my burning throat.

His eyelashes fluttered open. “Thank Fors you’re all right,” he mumbled, his mouth twitching up at the corner.

I turned to Lord Pell, drawing myself up. “He needs a healer now!”

Arcus laughed weakly. “You give orders like a queen.” His eyes slid over me as Lord Pell and Lord Manus moved toward the ballroom doors, which now stood open.

“You’re unhurt?” Arcus slurred as I followed him toward the exit.

I scanned for Marella and Brother Thistle, relieved that neither were among the prone forms on the floor. “I’m fine.”

“I got blood all over your gown,” Arcus said rather irrelevantly.

“It doesn’t matter.” I noticed a bearded man in robes who must be the Safran ambassador—alive and unharmed, talking with a few other delegates. Thank Sud. His murder would have meant war.

“If my blood were red like yours it would match your dress,” Arcus rambled. “You should have worn blue. Oh, stop spinning, I don’t want to dance.”

I looked at him sharply, then met Lord Manus’s eyes. “He’s delirious.”

“Couldn’t find you,” Arcus muttered, his eyes closing. “Worried.”

Lord Pell chuckled, though I heard the tension in his voice. “The king nearly lost his mind when he couldn’t find you during the attack, Lady Ruby. I’ve fought alongside him in battle and I’ve never seen him so close to wetting his pants.”

“Quiet, Oliver,” Arcus murmured.

“You were outside?” Lord Pell asked me as we reached the doorway.

I told a brief version of events about Lord and Lady Regier, Drake and his revenge, and what he’d said about the Blue Legion.

“You fought them all off by yourself?” Lord Manus asked.

The guards crowded around us now, offering help. I wasn’t about to say anything about Kai. There were too many people here. “The king needs to be in bed.”

A crooked smile spread over Arcus’s face and his eyelids fluttered open. “Why, Ruby, I didn’t know you were so eager to get me into bed. Wish I’d known sooner.”

Lord Manus’s cheeks darkened with the blue-tinged Frostblood version of a blush. I was sure my complexion was thoroughly pink.

“Come now, friend,” said Lord Pell, motioning the guards to help carry their king, “before you give the guards far too much to talk about.”

Arcus muttered something barely audible and stumbled, but the steady hands of his men were there to carry him. I had never seen him look so weak.

“What a night,” said Lord Pell as we moved into the hallway toward the stairs. “The glorious dawn of our peace talks has ended in attempts on our lives.”

“The dignitary from the Aris Plains!” Lord Manus exclaimed, as if just remembering. “We couldn’t find him!”

“He was with me in the garden,” I said now that we had more privacy, although I couldn’t quite bring myself to admit that he wasn’t the dignitary at all. “He ran off during the attack.”

“Well, we’ll have to find him and grovel on our knees for all this. Thank Fors he wasn’t killed. The assassins seemed to be targeting delegates, particularly the ones who’ve shown a willingness to sign the peace treaties. Which is probably why Arcus threw himself in front of the dagger meant for the Safran ambassador. Typical. He’s calm and focused when defending himself, but he’s a fiend when he’s protecting someone else.”

“He’s going to be all right, isn’t he?”

“The healers will tell us more shortly. Though it probably didn’t do much good when he yanked out the blade so he could search for you.”

I groaned. “I’m going to kill him. And then I’m going to find out the names of every man and woman who had a hand in this attack and”—there were so many things I’d like to do, and they all involved my fire—“express my extreme displeasure.”

Manus chuckled. “Leave that to me. Your job is to go make him rest, since I doubt anyone else could.”