Page 11 of Three Dark Kings and the Gilded Serpent

I scan the border, scrutinizing the quiet Iron Towers, seeking any hint of subterfuge. I’m aware of Kaiba, where he set down on the top of a tower three towers over, also focusing firmly on the towers across the border.

I tell myself that no Iron Fae would dare step from the temperate climate of the Iron Kingdom into the scorching heat across the border. Not at midday, as it is now.

When the False Queen’s curse split our land into three kingdoms, it also created distinct weather boundaries between them. In the north, the Frost Kingdom’s snowstorms only blow north. In the south, our hot winds only blow south. Both of those weather phenomena ensure that the Iron Kingdom, which is situated between us, is protected from snow and drought.

But take one step across the Ember border and the hot sun beats down.

Even Ember Fae and our golden serpents can’t withstand midday sunlight for long. For generations, this heat has protected us from any sort of daytime attack. No Iron Fae, not even Hadrian, would risk crossing the border right now. Just as, in the far north, no Iron Fae would risk attacking the Frost Kingdom during its nightly snowstorms.

Still, the unnerving metallic scent has put me on edge.

Across the distance, Kaiba raises his hand to me, his horn in his other hand. Normally, he would have already signaled our warriors to seek shelter inside the cool, stone towers and for their serpents to burrow into the nearby dunes. My people shelter in underground cities and generally sleep through the hottest part of the day.

My warriors and their serpents are well trained to recognize and respond to Kaiba’s commands. He never risks their welfare, and they return his care with loyalty and trust.

I take another moment to scrutinize the border, but the opposing towers appear calm. Not an Iron Fae or eagle in sight.

Trying to shake off my misgivings, I lift my hand, giving Kaiba my agreement for the men to take shelter.

As soon as Kaiba blows his horn, the faint hums of responding horns sound from the distance, indicating that all along the border, our warriors will seek the cooler environment inside the towers.

Kaiba gives me a final wave before he, too, disappears inside.

Within moments, I’m alone.

The sun doesn’t affect me. I could run across these dunes right now and barely lose breath.

A soft hissing draws my focus.

Not so alone, after all.

My serpent has remained nearby, even though he should have slithered into the dunes like the other serpents have.

He tosses his head at me as if he can hear my thoughts. Like all golden serpents, he has a narrow head, similar to those of ancient dragons, and two long horns extending from the back of his skull, parallel to his body. Although serpents don’t have wings or legs, they move by snaking their bodies, using their internal magic to remain aloft when they take to the air.

He’s the only serpent willing to carry me.

Even staying near me is a risk, which makes his continued presence now surprising.

“What is it?” I ask him.

He gives another hiss, his focus on the Iron Towers.

Those fucking towers. Last night, my people sighted Iron Fae transporting wooden crates to multiple towers along the border, including these ones. The crates were made of the same ashen-brown wood that’s immune to my fire. It’s the same wood, according to Antony, that restricts Thyra’s Oracle power. Whoever carries a piece of it is protected from her Sight.

When I went to investigate the crates last night, I met Hadrian for the first time.

The encounter was unnerving. First, because Hadrian’s smug self-confidence is nearing fanatical. Second, because I was forced to retreat.

As has happened every night for the past week, one of Thyra’s blade visions struck me. During those visions, my mind is gone from my body, leaving me vulnerable to death.

I fucking hated having to flee instead of burning that cocky fuck to ash.

Well, it isn’t nighttime now, and my fire is at its worst.

Flames dance across the back of my hands as I step carefully toward the border, continuing my visual assessment of the Iron Towers.

Quickly reaching the border’s edge, I peer through the heatwaves that make the Iron Towers appear to shimmer, even though I know the air is cool over there.