Page 110 of Prince of Darkness and Deceit

“Something’s…not right, Lara,” Ferria continues. Her breath is shaky. “The fire… It won’t go out.”

The shadows on my arm tighten over my skin like a bowstring, ready to be released.

“It’s okay. Just rest. It’ll all be okay.” I tuck the stimulant away and lower my sister to the ground.

Her eyes immediately fall closed. I don’t move until I count her breaths for ten seconds.

Steady. Even. She’ll be fine.

I rise on shaking legs and scan the chaos around me. There’s nothing more I can do here. The screams from the next street tear through the dark. That’s where help is needed. And I can’t stand by and do nothing.

My eyes find Rolf, who kneels next to a girl around his age.

“Rolf,” I call.

He looks up. A fresh smudge of ash mars his cheek.

“Keep an eye on my sister.”

His eyes dart to Ferria, and his jaw tightens with resolve. He nods.

I turn and run toward the burning homes, toward the smoke, toward whatever comes next.

I pray the Fae aren’t behind this fire. Because if they are…there's not a force left in our world that is strong enough to stop them.

And every last inch of Verdanthia will burn to the ground.

22

Heat roars in my face the moment I turn the corner of the building. I rear back, crying out when my shoulder strikes the jagged edge of the metal lamppost erected at the corner of the path.

I clutch my stinging arm and take in the horrific sight in front of me.

What started as two of the one-story homes engulfed in flames has spread to include the entire row of modest dwellings, as well as the three-story homes on the street behind this one. My neighbors run around like ants dislodged from their hills—scattered, disorganized, frantic.

My sore throat tightens as I take in the men and women desperately throwing water on the blaze. My earlier fear is confirmed when water doesn’t so much as diminish the stifling flames before they blaze just as high as before.

This is the Fae. It has to be.

I’m a fool.

No wonder Ferria tried to pull back the flames with her power. My clever sister, no doubt, realized exactly what I am realizing now. Verdanthia is doomed if we don’t find a way to stop this flame.

One small mercy? I don’t see any bodies. It doesn’t seem as if anyone has been caught in the blaze. At least the Fae didn’t send up a fast inferno with no hope of escape.

I ignore the part of me that still tries to say I don’t know for sure that the Fae are behind this. Now is not the time to think the best of my enemy. Now I need to help.

But how?

I draw as close to the fire as I dare, lifting my dress’s neckline to cover my mouth. Ash and sparks float through the air. Dozens of my neighbors are covered in smolder, singe-marked, and yet they don’t stop trying to douse the flames.

I rush toward the well to do my part.

Then I hear a soft cry, “Help!”

I spin in a circle but don’t see the source of the weak sound.

I grab the shirt of the man closest to me and pull him close. “Did you hear that?”