A Prophecy of Flames
“Awoken of ruin and blood, to command the skies and scorch the earth,
Peace will return on the breath of his wing,
When a loving hand with the gift to break,
Offers their heart.”
One
Leena
Fragrant, charcoal-gray smoke curled toward the midmorning sky, twisting away from the crackling flames devouring the ceremonial white oak pyre. A tribute to those who’d passed in the wake of Yazmin’s unexpected attack. Their individual funeral pyres had burned to ash days ago, but this? This would remain until the Crown of the Council called for the flames to be doused. UntilIcalled for them to be doused.
Crown of the Council.It still didn’t seem real.
Letting out a quiet sigh, I tore my gaze away from the flames to scan the open clearing. Crystalized dew clung to the dormant grass beneath my feet, and glimmering icicles dripped from the trees encircling Hireath. Winter was here, but it wouldn’t stay for long. I’d missed the first frost of the season and the customary celebrations that came with it. We all had, in a way.
Had it only been a week since Yazmin unleashed fury on her own people? Ordered beasts to kill Charmers for the sake of some plan we didn’t understand? Those who had died that day might have already moved on to the gods’ realm, but the aftermath remained. There were no happy bestial calls competing with the crashing waterfall. No lull of conversation from Charmers wandering about their once peaceful city. It was all too…quiet.
Boots crunched against the grass behind me, and I turned toward the keep and the lone man approaching. “Gaige.”
“Crown.” He tipped his chin in a polite bow.
A smile touched my lips. “Not yet.”
“In a matter of hours, you will be.” His steel-blue eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief. Steady hands brushed along the signature liquid-mercury robes of the Council. He was polished and prepared to present himself—rather, present the new Crown—to his people. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
A week ago, I’d balked at the idea of ruling. But now… I stared at the trees laden with houses and the keep standing tall against the mountain. Something warm, heady, and true brewed in my gut. Determination. This had been my home, and I’d do anything to protect it.
“Good.” Gaige offered a knowing grin before turning away. “The others are already waiting. Let’s get our affairs in order before the ceremony begins.”
I fell into step beside him. “They’re back?”
“Arrived just a few minutes ago.” He nodded toward the monstrous tree just a short distance away. An arched opening large enough for six people to pass through shoulder to shoulder marked the entrance to our communal library. Stained-glass windows were fitted between knots in the bark, allowing sunlight to bathe the hollowed-out interior.
I’d never been to a Council meeting before. Aside from my inauguration into their ranks, I’d never gotten the chance. Even so, something told me this particular meeting would be unlike any they’d had previously.
The grass beneath our feet turned to moss as we passed through the threshold into the library. Heavy wooden tables littered the first floor, and shelves were arranged in a circular pattern, pressed firm against the trunk, and all packed full of books. A spiral staircase crawled upward, and muted conversation carried from an open landing a few stories up. My heart tightened as one voice, calm and collected, threaded through the rest.
Noc.
He, along with Calem, Kost, and Oz, had departed shortly after I’d recovered from Yazmin’s attack. They’d left Cruor in the capable hands of Emelia, one of Noc’s most trusted sentries, but with Yazmin on the loose, there was no telling whether the guild was safe. She just as easily could’ve attacked them, like she had her own people, while fleeing through the Kitska Forest. Not to mention, there was still the matter of Darrien.
My hands clenched into tight fists as I climbed the stairs a few steps behind Gaige.Darrien.He was no better than Yazmin, betraying his own family to get what he wanted. He’d failed to kidnap me and force Noc to relinquish his title as guild master—and the power to raise the dead that came with it—but I highly doubted he was done trying to exact his revenge.
When I hit the final stair and stepped onto the landing, a barking laugh from Calem shook me from my thoughts. He leaned against a bookshelf, lazy smirk on full display as he tilted his chin in silent hello. Kaori stood quietly beside him. Her lustrous black hair was done in an artful knot, and she traced the leaf pin holding it all together. The same pin she’d used to skewer her hand and offer Calem her blood, effectively saving his life.
Gaige had already seated himself at the round table beside Kost. Felicks, Kost’s fox-like beast, had been dutifully sitting by his master’s side. But at the sight of Gaige’s open lap—and the folds of his mercury cloak that made for fantastic snuggling—he launched onto Gaige’s thighs and turned in a series of circles before plopping down and closing his eyes. Gaige chuckled as Kost raised a brow at his beast, but he reached forward and scratched him beneath the chin just the same. Inaudible words passed between Gaige and Kost, and a foreign smile—relaxed and warm—claimed Kost’s face. Gaige seemed to notice, too, and he tilted his head closer. When he was only a breath away from Kost’s ear, he adjusted the fold of his collar and whispered something that turned Kost’s cheeks red.
Kost pulled back with a visible swallow, and then made a show of clearing his throat before turning to Oz and Raven on his free side. He immediately engaged in a conversation with Oz, but my focus remained on Gaige’s satisfied smirk. He met my eyes then, and his grin deepened.
Oz and Kost chatted quietly as Kost’s embarrassment abated. Raven, on the other hand… The lightness I’d felt upon seeing my family dimmed. She was practiced in appearing bored—shoulders loose, one arm draped over the back of her chair, lips pursed. But a maelstrom of rage and pain brewed in her eyes. She’d just begun her courtship with Eilan, only for Yazmin to murder him during the attack on Hireath. We’d hardly spoken in the past few days, as she’d chosen to remain in her chambers and grieve privately.
Oz looked up and followed my gaze to Raven. His expression warmed, and he shifted in his seat, angling his broad shoulders Raven’s direction. Voice low, he asked her something I couldn’t hear. She blinked, some of the anger in her eyes fading, and then responded slowly. Kost nodded as he took in her words, and Oz shot me a knowing look before returning to their conversation.
