“Let this be final. Let this be remembered,” he says and I recite after him.
He subtly tilts my hands, indicating for me to drink whatever draught is inside.
“Ash-draught,” he says quietly when I hesitate. He nods. “To finalize the oath, and bind you to your words.”
I nod absentmindedly and remove the cork. There’s no steam coming out despite the liquid being hot enough to warm the bottle. My stomach sinks. I swallow and bring it closer to my mouth.
When the scent hits me, I almost gag. Rich iron, mixed with burned herbs and charred…mangalo, or maybe honey that’s been left too long on the flame.
I close my eyes and bring it to my mouth.
It tastes even worse than it smells, the consistency thick and heavy on my tongue. I breathe through it as the slimy liquid slowly slides down my throat.
At one point, I’m scared I may choke on it.
When the burn starts, I don’t expect it, so I grimace.
My tongue, throat, chest, and stomach are on fire. As if I’m a dragon breathing flame.
The heat blooms in my abdomen, too.
The monk who guided me smiles and nods. “It is done. May your rule stay strong for many moons, General.”
Hands holding me slip away and the words echo around the cavernous space as I make my way out of the Well with shaky legs.
Quietly, I put my leathers on and head for the door. The monks are there to open it for me. As I pass them, they bow deeply to me.
Noire’s eyes sweep over me as if checking for damage. His face is a neutral mask.
“General,” he says. “How do you feel?”
I clear my throat and glance between him and my two guards. “Fine. A little hot.”
Noire nods. “It would be wise for you to lie down and rest. There may be uncomfortable side effects as the ash-draught works its way through your system.”
I lick my dry lips, throat parched. I’m already feeling it, whatever it is.
My body’s burning, sweat coating my skin. But I’m cold deep in my bones.
There’s nothing more I want than the comfort of my mom’s embrace when she hugs me and pulls me close to her chest. The safety of my father’s presence when he playfully ruffles my hair and presses his lips to my forehead. The warmth of my sister sneaking into my bed at night.
But I don’t have the luxury.
I flex my hands, ignoring the slight tremble of my muscles, and lift my chin. “No time for that. I’ll go see Jax to inform him of the trial.”
I can tell Noire wants to object, but he bites his tongue and nods. I give him a sharp nod in return and head down the corridor, my two Ezkai guards trailing behind.
FLAME
“The flame does not choose where it burns.
Only whether it will."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
JAX
“Sixty,” I huff.
