Page 12 of Three Dark Kings and the Gilded Serpent

For a long moment, nothing stirs.

I’m about to turn away when, from behind the nearest Iron Tower, comes the grinding sound of cogs.

The edge of a wooden contraption appears from behind that tower, the building’s breadth and height concealing the mechanism’s full form until it clanks farther out.

A giant catapult.

The whole thing made of the same ashen-brown wood I can’t burn…

More rapid grinding sounds come from each of the nearby towers, a catapult being pushed into place for each tower within the breach between the mountains.

Iron Fae finally appear behind them, pushing the contraptions into place using rods that allow them to remain at a distance, their furtive glances in my direction telling me they know I could end them.

Well, let them try to load those catapults and they’ll find out how quickly I can turn them to ash.

A snarl leaves my lips as I make out a row of what appears to be ceramic canisters resting in a groove along the mechanism’s lowest beam.

Fuck me.

The catapults are self-loading.

What’s more, the ropey part of the mechanism appears to be made of the same ashen-brown wood, but long strings of it, wound into a chain. Only Antony’s brother Victor could design such a thing. Whether or not Victor did it willingly, well, it doesn’t fucking matter to me.

What matters is that the canisters will undoubtedly contain iron dust.

The Iron Fae can fire the canisters across the border without having to risk their own lives since our winds will blow the dust south, away from the Iron Kingdom.

Raising my fingers to my lips, I give a sharp whistle before I launch into a run, sprinting across the border, racing toward the nearest catapult.

I might not be able to burn the structure, but I can decimate the canisters before they launch.

Fear is my enemy as I grit my teeth and tell myself I won’t burn out of control. My fire will not hurt my people. I will only hurt the Iron Fae.

Behind me, I’m aware of Kaiba blowing his horn and of Ember Fae spilling out from towers, taking up defensive positions in the heat.

They’re ready to fight. Unlike the Iron Fae, who are quickly retreating back into their tower.

Good. I’ll fucking burn them inside it.

Heat scorches through my arms, my power releasing in a rush.

A firebolt spears from my outstretched hand toward the catapult, smashing into the canisters within its lower beam.

Crack.

I skid to a stop, trying to process what’s happening when, instead of turning to molten lava, the canisters light up.

Almost as if…

That’s what they’re designed to do.

The catapult shoots, sending its first flaming projectile across the air above my head and toward the Ember Tower opposite.

All along the breach as far as I can see, catapults fire.

Canisters sail through the air.

The moment the projectiles enter Ember airspace, they catch fire.