The blaze sang and licked the base of the trees. The dry roots began to crackle, but they did not catch. Sweat beaded down her forehead. She could not doubt herself, not now; doubt would kill the flame. She could do this.
She had to.
Straining, Elena focused on the blaze growing taller. She stretched her hands, and the flame yawned.Again.
She thought of Ravence, of Leo, of the energy that had buzzed through her body when she had first wielded an inferno.
The flame lengthened.
She thought of Yassen and the way he had held her, the warmth of his embrace. The touch of his breath as he had whispered into her ear that he would follow her, no matter what.
The flame howled.
Elena stepped back and closed her eyes. She felt the hum of power, the song of fire, coursing through her body. She imagined it strengthening, solidifying as a spear flashed in her hand. Her eyes flickered. The flame danced, waiting.
With a cry, Elena released it.
It struck the canopy, the leaves immediately catching. The blaze at the base doubled and then tripled before leaping up the grove. Wood snapped, and Elena gasped.
Sweat drenched her face as she pulled the blaze higher, willing it to grow brighter, and soon the treetops were filled with flames. Smoke buffeted out, dispersed by a sudden wind. Elena spun, and her inferno roared at the heavens.
Alarms began to blare, alerting the soldiers. They were too late. Elena gritted her teeth, her arms shaking as she pushed the fire toward the rig. The flames tumbled and spat, growing louder, stronger. They reached the base of the mine, and then Elena fully let go.
The inferno raged on.
In the distance, soldiers stumbled out onto the guard post. She whirled around and sprinted back south where she had left her steed. Her brenni neighed in fright at the smoke writhing through the trees.
“It’s okay. We’re going,” she said.
She swung onto its back and kicked hard. Her brenni shot into a gallop, and Elena clenched her thighs to hold on. The inferno grew behind them with an insatiable haste. The high-pitched wail of the alarms and the roar of the fire filled the air, but as they hurtled deeper into the forest, the sound grew fainter until Elena thought, rashly, that she had made it.
She began to slow her brenni to a canter when a mighty roar ripped through the heavens. The mine exploded with a blinding flash. The mountain heaved. Her brenni shrieked, losing its footing, and they tumbled to the ground. Elena fell out of her saddle. Pain, hot and fierce, ripped through her knee as she rolled to a stop beneath a molorian. She gasped, trembling. Her brenni nickered.
“It’s all right,” she called out. It stilled, listening to her voice. Slowly, Elena lurched back to her feet. Her ears rang. Blood trickled down from a cut on her forehead. But the ground did not rumble again. There was no landslide.
Smoke filtered through the trees, and Elena remembered, suddenly, the temple. The fire raging down the mountainside, the dying cry of soldiers.
She stumbled. Her hands shook, and her fingertips glowed like embers.
Burning Queen, the inferno sang.
And then she saw what the flames observed. She spotted flashes of metal shards, the spray of blood, a man sprinting away from the mine, his clothes afire.
Burning Queen.
The hoverpod’s alarm wailed into the light as it tilted, flames tearing through its hull. It crashed into the mountain.
Burning Queen.
But then she saw another face in the flames, heard another voice.
Become whatever Ravence demands.Leo’s face was frozen in shock, in pain.
She saw Ferma, her Ferma, falling.
She saw Samson, his blue eyes suddenly bright and glowing. He grabbed her hands, his voice filled with the song of fire.
How far are you willing to go?
