Firestorm

I couldn’t see his face, couldn’t tell what was going through his mind. Like everyone else in the room, I waited, wondering what the hell he could possibly say that would pull our asses from the fire in the most literal of senses.

Ash slowly spoke, “Your majesty—”

“Cut the worm shit, Ender. Spit out whatever you have to say,” Fiametta said, her voice as cold as the lava flows were hot.

“I am responsible for the four deaths of your Enders. My companion Ender Larkspur did not wield the blade for any of them.”

Before I could open my mouth to deny Ash’s words, Brand slammed his hand over my lips and whispered in my ear. “Don’t make his sacrifice for nothing.”

Fiametta’s eyes slid from Ash to me. “Ender Brand. Let her speak.”

Brand’s one hand found my shoulder again and dug into it. Damn it, how far back had Ash set this up? I thought about him finding me in the forest, how his kiss had felt like a goodbye.

He’d known they were coming for us, and he’d planned this all along. There was no other explanation.

With my mouth clear of Brand’s hand, I took a deep breath, knowing what Brand said was true. If I claimed the deaths as my own, I would damn both Ash and myself to swim in the Pit. But if I were still free, maybe I could find a way out for both of us. A slim chance, but more than we’d had before. “You have to give him a trial.”

Fiametta arched an eyebrow at me. “I have to do no such thing. He is not of royal blood, and there are witnesses who wish to see him pay for his sins.”

Ash slid in front of me again. “No, I confess to it all. You don’t have to bring the witnesses in.”

Brand held me back as Match pulled Ash away from me. “Hold still, girl.”

I didn’t even realize I was struggling until Brand spoke. I tried again to get loose from him. “You can’t do this!”

Fiametta let out a long low laugh. “You believe my Enders’ lives are not worth repercussion? That their lives are worth less than his? I think not, Terraling.” Her eyes blazed. “I lost four Enders. FOUR lives were taken, girl. It is a small penance to pay that he—” she grabbed Ash by the jaw and twisted him around to face me—“pays with his own life. As Enders you are held to higher standards. You of all people should know that. Be glad I do not toss you into the Pit alongside him.”

Horror and guilt flooded me. I was the guilty party and Fiametta was right—there had to be penance for those lives lost. Not by Ash, but by me.

Brand held me and I realized he’d softened his grip on me, steadying me more than holding. “How long?” I whispered the words and for just a moment I thought I saw a flicker of compassion in Fiametta’s eyes.

“Three days. As the sun rises on the third day the lava will be at its hottest peak in nearly three hundred years. Rather fitting for the first execution of an outsider, don’t you think? He will walk into the Pit, or be thrown, if need be,” she said. “And you will be kept in the dungeons. The last thing I need is you causing more trouble.”

Brand cleared his throat. “My queen. I would like to personally offer to watch over her. My wife could use help of a big strong girl like the Terraling.”

Help? He was asking to use me as a slave while I was here. Slavery was something strictly forbidden by the mother goddess . . . yet I’d seen the rule circumvented in the Deep too.

Fiametta tipped her head to one side. “Brand, that is a great task. I do not wish to put your family in harm’s way.”

He gave me a light shake. “I’ll throw her in the Pit myself if she puts one foot outside the lines.”

The queen of the Pit smiled softly and pleasure lit her face. “So be it. Let the Terraling work for her time here, and let her watch her companion die.”

Brand tossed me over his shoulder. “Come, my wife needs laundry hand scrubbed.”

His words were so mundane, so simple that they jarred my brain into action.

“No! Ash, don’t do this. ASH!” I hadn’t meant to scream, and yet, I felt like he was being taken from me and if nothing else, I knew he was meant to be in my life.

“Lark. Please trust me.” Was all he was able to say before he was slammed to the ground, his face pressed against the golden floor, his eyes only a shade lighter than the precious metal as he stared at me.

Sick to my stomach, I knew it was my fault he was going to be executed in my place. That was what my father meant when he spoke to Ash. This was his final job, his final duty. To keep me out of the fire. But it was my reckless behavior and decisions that brought us to this point. I had to do something.

Brand packed me out the monstrous double doors, past the statue of Fiametta and her familiar, and to the left of the throne room. We’d only gone a few hundred feet when he put me down. “I’ll take you to the healers.”

I wanted to jerk away from him, pull a weapon and run after Ash. I wanted to break out of the Pit like we’d done before and thumb my nose at them, prove that as earth elementals we were just as strong. Except I couldn’t. I had no weapons and my shoulder was swollen to the size of a small watermelon. Getting my joint back into place was going to be like jamming an elephant into a keyhole. “Why are you doing this?”

Brand put a hand on the back of my neck and shoved me forward. “Move.”

“Tell me what the hell is going on!” I yelled and he slammed me forward, my face and body pressed against the wall, his knee jammed into my lower back.