Page 83 of A Kingdom of Sand and Ice (Kingdom of Gods #2)
When I hid my child to keep him safe from the dragons, and returned for him later…
He was gone.
Taken.
And I know who was behind it.
It’s always him.
Tabitha Wysteria
Mal adjusted the short sword strapped across her back, content to feel its familiar weight once more.
She wore a loose grey riding dress that billowed softly around her legs, paired with black leather boots worn smooth by use.
The armour that had been laid out for her in the early hours of the morning remained untouched in the tent.
She had no need for it. Her blade and her power were all she required.
She had helped Ash dress in silence, fastening the black armour that made his golden hair gleam like firelight.
No words had passed between them, but their eyes had met, and that had been enough.
They had never needed grand declarations; love had always lingered in the space between glances, in every quiet gesture.
From the moment they had fought side by side in the Champions’ Battle months ago, they had known that they were destined.
And yet, a quiet thought tugged at Mal’s heart: how much of that certainty had been theirs, and how much had been shaped by the curse that bound them?
Now they stood before the towering wall that marked the edge of the Kingdom of Darkness, beyond which stretched the barren wastelands.
Mal had mounted Nyx, ready to lead from the skies, her sharp eyes trained to scout and warn of danger before it struck.
Ash was astride Ayaru, Adriana on Nisha, and Keir on Daku.
The wyverns, though initially uneasy at carrying riders who were neither Kai nor Kage, had quickly settled under Mal’s steady command.
She cast one final glance at her husband, silently willing him to give her the answer she longed for. But he said nothing. And she understood. She trusted him utterly, even if it meant letting go of certainty.
‘May the shadows guide your way,’ Mal said, lifting two fingers to her forehead in solemn salute. She did not turn to look, for she knew that every soldier behind her mirrored the gesture, their voices rising in a whispered chorus, a quiet promise carried on the wind.
‘Volare!’ she commanded, her voice slicing through the air like a blade.
The wyverns responded at once, wings snapping open as they surged forward and leapt skyward, cutting through the wind with thunderous grace.
Mal waited until all four had taken their positions in the sky, their silhouettes circling like shadows above, before she lifted her head and screamed, ‘Ardere!’
In unison, the wyverns opened their jaws, and torrents of searing blue fire poured forth, roaring against the wall in a blaze of elemental fury.
The stone sizzled, cracked, and crumbled beneath the heat, melting away in a matter of minutes beneath the relentless onslaught.
Mal rested a hand on Nyx’s dark hide, her shadow wyvern trembling with energy beneath her.
Mal’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she watched the flames devour the barrier, leaving a wide passageway for her army to march through unchallenged.
A section of the wall had already been broken, but it had not been wide enough to accommodate the sheer size of her forces. Mal had chosen the more dramatic solution—obliteration by fire.
As Nyx soared ahead, Mal kept her attention fixed on the ground below. The harsh, dead terrain of the Kingdom of Darkness gave way swiftly to desolation. Empty plains, shifting marshes, tangled forests, and the scattered bones of long-forgotten ruins.
Mal brought Nyx down with precision, her boots meeting earth as she gestured for Adriana and Keir to remain airborne, watching from above while the rest of the army pressed on to catch up.
‘It’s too quiet,’ Mal said the moment Ash landed and made his way towards her, his steps light on the scorched earth.
‘They’re not here.’
‘Then where are they?’
‘My kingdom.’
Mal shook her head slowly, the wind catching in her dark hair. ‘Hagan would never leave his own land defenceless just to conquer another.’ Her purple eyes met his, steady and searching. ‘Do you know?’
‘I… I c-cannot see everything,’ Ash said, the hesitation in his voice tugging at her heart.
Mal exhaled, her shoulders softening. ‘I’m sorry.’
Ash’s fingers brushed against hers gently, affectionately, grounding her with that simple, familiar touch. ‘They’re not here, Mal,’ he said quietly. ‘I don’t b-believe we need to wo-worry too much about witches in this p-place.’
But Mal was already gnawing at the skin around her thumb, frustration simmering beneath her calm facade. ‘Why would Hagan abandon his land?’
‘Because he wants us there,’ Ash said, gesturing westward, towards the distant blaze of the Kingdom of Fire. ‘He has no use for the was-wastelands. What he desires is revenge… and he will burn everything to ashes if it b-brings him even a taste of it.’
‘So, we go to him?’ Mal asked, watching as Ash lifted his gaze to the heavy grey sky. ‘We could stay here, threaten to claim his kingdom instead.’
‘It won’t work.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because he doesn’t care, Mal.’ Ash turned to face her fully, golden eyes gleaming with grim understanding. ‘He’s beyond reason. We must take the f-fight to him.’
Mal stepped closer, her voice low and fierce. ‘If I do, if I take the fight to him. Do we win?’
Ash offered her a faint smile, but said nothing.
Instead, he turned to see to the wyverns, calming them after the long wait.
It would take the wyverian army several days to cross the barren stretch of the wastelands.
Though their kind required little food and even less rest, Mal was determined they would not arrive at the wall bordering the Kingdom of Fire exhausted.
She needed them sharp, not worn thin by the journey.
‘There are no w-winners in w-war, Mal,’ Ash called over his shoulder, voice soft but certain. ‘Only survivors.’
…
Ash had assured her there would be no witches lying in wait as they crossed the wastelands.
The wyverian army travelled swiftly and without fear, buoyed by the quiet confidence they placed in Ash’s foresight.
Word had already been sent to the wolverians to meet them at the wall, and Mal was certain that within a few days, their paths would converge.
King Ozul had sent a message only recently.
He remained in the north of the wyverian lands, speaking with the high nobles.
Most had pledged their warriors without hesitation, though a few had proven more reluctant, none more so than the king’s youngest brother, who refused to cooperate out of nothing but bitter pride.
Mal had only met her uncle once, when she was a child.
He had travelled south to see for himself the rumoured violet hue of her eyes.
She remembered little of that visit, save for the tension that clung to the air.
Her uncle had spent most of his time quarrelling with the king, his voice raised and full of disdain.
The rest he had passed in the library with Kage, sharing tales and traditions from distant kingdoms, as if Mal did not exist. When he had finally turned to look at her, it had been with contempt.
He’d spat on the ground at her feet and turned to King Ozul with venom in his eyes.
‘You did this,’ he had said.
To this day, Mal had never fully understood what those words had meant, and she had been too frightened to ask.
‘Do you know where my brothers are?’ Mal asked as they made camp beneath a sky bruised by twilight.
‘They’re...’ Ash hesitated, his sigh brushing against the night air. ‘They’re on a path of their own choosing. A journey they b-believe they must take.’
‘Where, Ash?’ she pressed.
Ash crouched, fastening the last ties on their tent with quiet precision. Despite his many reassurances that no threat loomed in the dark, Mal had forbidden the use of fire after sundown. They would pass through this place unseen.
Mal rubbed her eyes, weariness settling behind them like sand in the bones.
She stopped asking. Whatever answers Ash held, he would not give them tonight.
And though she wanted, desperately, to trust that his choices were made for the good of them all, a strange stillness pressed against her chest. A silence that whispered doubt.
Perhaps she would be safe. But Kage? Kai? They might not be.
Ash could not shield them all.
‘Where are you going?’ he asked, watching as she dropped her bags to the ground and turned away, her steps already leading her into the shadowed marshes.
‘To clear my mind.’
‘Mal…’
She dismissed his concern with an indifferent sweep of her hand.
‘You’d know if something happened to me, wouldn’t you?
’ she called over her shoulder, her purple eyes flashing with something sharper, something accusing.
He had known. He had known Hades intended to bind her to Thanatos.
He had known what the Underworld held for her, and he had kept it silent. Not a word. Not a warning.
What else did he know, what secrets still curled on his tongue, too dangerous to speak aloud?
Mal stepped into the marshland ahead, where the stagnant water sat heavy and unmoving, the silence pressing like a weight.
It reminded her of the river in the Underworld, and her thoughts drifted, unbidden, to Makaria.
Was she curled alone in Mal’s bed tonight?
Would she sleep restlessly, sorrow clinging to her like a second skin?
Thanatos’ mocking laugh echoed in her memory, and she clenched her jaw, willing it away. His face, smug and loathsome, faded. She sank onto the damp ground without care for her muddied boots or the wet earth soaking through her dress. The cold seeped into her bones, but she welcomed it.
She dipped the tip of her finger into the murky water, tracing slow circles on the surface, her thoughts as clouded as the liquid below.
Then, something shifted.