So she offered him the simple, careful truth. “I fear I will disappoint you, Majesty. My magic is weak and undependable, even after all this time.”
Because she never, never tried. Every time Dae said practice, she nodded but silently refused. Every task he gave her, she did as minimally as she could, relying on the others to help.
She couldn’t be strong. Couldn’t be capable. If she were, it would be her destruction, she’d always known that.
Worse—theirdestruction, as she’d long suspected too. If the king had her to do this work, he’d kill her friends.
But she’d thought she had more time to plan, to find a way out.
Isidor sighed. “You will improve when you must. Even my third born has unfortunately discovered this. Her strength has increased in surprising amounts these last few days. But you needn’t worry, I have already made arrangements for her. Our children will be the next rulers of Fjordlandi. And from there…”
Perhaps he thought the thundering of her pulse—which he surely noted—was excitement. Attraction even, given the handsome face she had indeed once sighed over as a young woman. He couldn’t know it was fear. Loathing. Resentment.
He had stolen her from her life. From all she’d ever wanted, cared about, needed. He had stolen her and tossed her into themouth of a volcano. Sentenced her to decades down here, until his wife died, and why?
For whatever was in her blood. Whatever kept her from burning in the lava flows, whatever connected her to them. “But what if it doesn’t work that way? How can you be so sure I would even be able to carry a child?”
Never mind the union she didn’t want, all it would entail. That wasn’t the true horror. The very thought of conceiving only to suffer the knowledge that her own body had killed the helpless babe…anything but that. She couldn’t survive it.
The king pressed an icy finger to her lips. “There is no cause for such doubts. And every reason to believe we will create something new and powerful together. Did the Sea King and his Wind Witch not conceive within weeks of their union and produce two healthy children? Children with both their magics?”
“But water and wind are complimentary. Water and fire, though—iceand fire…”
“Enough.” His finger fell away, but only to her chin, which he tipped up. “You have had ample time to prepare yourself for your destiny. In thirty-six days, you’ll leave this place and join me Above.”
“But—”
His lips silenced hers. The cold of them was a shock, yes, but not nearly as much as the sensation of a kiss after decades without any touch beyond a helping clasp of a hand, or the occasional pat on her shoulder from Ember.
It was not what she remembered. Her head didn’t go light, her pulse didn’t pound, heat didn’t…maybe that was the problem. How could heat compound or pool, when she was already consumed by it, and it had nothing to do with pleasure?
Or maybe it was the fact that this kiss was not requested, not welcomed. She would rather swim through a flow to the very center of the earth than help him expand his tyranny.
Heat slammed into them, a wall of it so heavy she staggered and fell into Isidor’s chest. She pushed away and spun, fully expecting to see that a flow had broken through the tunnel.
And it had. Sort of. With a bit of help from the furious man who stood in the center of it, veins aglow with his internal fire.
The first time she’d seen him, standing in the lava that she’d expected to deliver death, she’d thought all the stories her omma had told her were true after all. That the Great Betrayer, king of the daemons, more beautiful than any other, really did live in the center of the earth, where he waited for a chance to devour unsuspecting humans.
“Daemon. Get that away from here.” The king barked the order even as he fought the heat back with ice that melted as soon as he created it.
Dae made no move for one beat, two, three. Just long enough to make it clear that the king’s ice couldn’t prevail against his fire. Then the lava flow sank back, a new layer of crust forming, the heat banking. He tilted his head—a parody of a bow—in a way that revealed the inked design on the shaved parts of his scalp. “So sorry, Iz. I didn’t see you there. I was only following the water.”
Following her, more likely.
Isidor bristled. “You will show me respect, spawn.”
“Will I?” Dae’s smile was as much a parody as his bow, but still it was beautiful. Deadly, but beautiful. “No, I don’t think I will. But I do thank you for the refreshing stream of water that has been flowing just as I suggested long ago you should do. To avoid so many unwanted trips Below. But then, perhaps the trips weren’t as unpleasant for you as you always wanted us to believe.”
When Dae’s gaze flicked to Elianne, she felt it like a slap.
The king stepped between them. She didn’t need to see his face to read his posture—the confident challenge in it. “Yourplace is not to question me. I am the arbiter of the Giver’s will and you—”
“Daemon spawn. Yes, I recall.” Dae ran his tongue over his teeth as if inspecting them for stray bits of food. As if they’d had any food in days. “Though you don’t seem as opposed tothatas you always intimated either.”
Once, shame burned. Now, it hardened into rock. Not a protective shell around her heart, oh no. A weight in her gut to pull her down.
Isidor gave Dae his back. Met Elianne’s gaze. Said something with his eyes that she didn’t care to try to decrypt. Then strode toward the wall. “There will be more clothing, food, and containers for your water in a few hours—even ink and needles for your ridiculous tattoos. Until then, enjoy your long-awaited stream. It’ll dry up before I return.”
