Page 56 of A Kiss of Hammer and Flame (Fated for Hael #1)

‘ Cahra .’

Hael stood, still as time in his shrine, then moved for Cahra so quickly, all she saw was a burst of black. And suddenly he was towering before her, the inverted triangles of his flaming eyes scrutinising her every inch, as if seeking out injury.

‘ How do you fare? ’

‘I’m fine,’ Cahra said softly, his gaze burning into her. ‘Are you?’

Could he sense her trepidation? She’d courted death before, but never like this. Staring into Hael’s flames, she felt a knot tighten in the middle of her chest.

‘ I could not call to you. I found it… troubling. ’ Hael tilted his head and paused. ‘ That is not why you have come. ’

‘No,’ she confessed, swallowing. Cahra had never lived an ordinary life, but she wondered if this would ever feel normal, with Hael.

Or if her insides would stop feeling like they were staging an uprising of their own, never mind Kolyath and Ozumbre’s.

She inhaled. ‘I’m outside Luminaux’s gate to Hael’stromia and—’

‘ I know ,’ Hael said. ‘ I can sense you .’

‘You can?’ she asked, bewildered.

He nodded once, the hard planes of his face softening. ‘ You are on the cusp of the capital’s sands, my abode. The gates, the Key – a formality. Yet the closer you came today, the more I could feel you, your presence. ’

‘Oh,’ Cahra said in a small voice. ‘Do you know why I’m here?’

‘ The tri-kingdoms have convened. ’ Hael’s flaming eyes, which had brightened to a bold ruby, darkened again. ‘ Why? ’

‘Kolyath and Ozumbre captured a Luminaux royal and are blocking that gate to Hael’stromia. I proposed a trade—’ She broke off as Hael’s eyes blazed a bottomless black, the guttural sound that ripped from him cleaving the darkness.

His tomb shuddered.

‘A trade,’ she rushed, ‘so they would take me to the pyramid and I could free you.’ She smiled, trying to project an air of confidence.

For a moment, Hael said nothing. Then Cahra wrinkled her nose, the air thickening, itching her nostrils, as she inhaled its acrid scent. The smell of burning . Glancing down, she watched smoke rise above the age-old dust.

‘ An exchange, with the two most callous kingdoms in the modern era? ’ Hael rasped, desperation in his voice. ‘ Cahra, you are in mortal danger! ’

She shut her eyes, exhaustion weighing her to the ground. ‘I know. It’s risky.’ Opening them, she saw Hael was watching her with barely checked alarm. ‘It’ll be okay. Once you’re out, everything will be okay. But we need to do the abreption now.’

‘ A safeguard, ’ he said, comprehending. The idea seemed to placate him.

She nodded. ‘I couldn’t let them keep the Prince. At least this way, once you’re out, you can do your Scion-champion thing.’

At her words, Hael rose in stature, then paused. ‘ The Prince? ’ There was something to his tone, a coldness. The smoke that was pooling at her feet began to eddy faster, like a whirlpool gaining strength. She was barefoot in their vision again, she realised.

‘Yes,’ Cahra said, rubbing one foot with the toes of the other. The floor was freezing. ‘The one who helped me escape Kolyath. I couldn’t let him suffer in my stead, not when what they want is the Scion and the Key.’

‘ Precisely why I am perturbed ,’ Hael argued. ‘ For if it is you who suffers… ’

‘I won’t,’ she smiled faintly. ‘Because you’ll be free, to find me.’

They gazed at one another. Finally, Hael nodded, but he looked as if he wanted to strangle someone, and slowly. Before she knew what she was doing, Cahra grabbed his hand.

‘It will be okay,’ she said again, her tone soothing.

The haze-filled air was pricking her lungs, but she didn’t let him go.

She could feel the agitation amassing in her body, the buildup of red-hot energy that flashed between her nerves and limbs, sensing for any and all threats, because she knew the reality she faced.

The realm’s three kingdoms’ rulers were out there.

Steward Atriposte was out there. And Hael was right, this plan of hers had put her in danger, all to save Thierre.

But when she looked into Hael’s eyes, she felt like she understood him.

His last Scion had died and the capital had fallen. Hael feared for her life.

After what she’d seen the last time they performed the abreption, she knew he wouldn’t handle losing another Scion well. And if she lost him? Cahra refused to consider it.

But standing around wouldn’t get them anywhere. Wrenching her eyes from his face, Cahra cleared her throat, praying the iciness of her feet would draw the heat from her cheeks. It was so damn cold in here!

‘Hael, where are my boots?’ she complained, shivering.

He laughed, the sound so joyous that for an instant, she could forget about everything brewing outside the city’s black gate.

‘What is it?’

Lips still twitching with mirth, Hael lifted his arms. ‘ May I? ’

Confused, she nodded. He swept her from her feet to sit her lightly on the edge of the black stone altar. Then touched the sole of her right foot, tilting it towards her.

‘ See, ’ Hael whispered, the flames of his eyes soaring.

When the mark walks the path to enter the Nether in life…

Cahra gasped as she peered at what looked to be a tattooed Sigil of the Seers, the dark symbol’s eye within a downward-pointing triangle within a circle staring back at her from the ball of her foot. Below it, more new symbols appeared inked upon her skin.

‘I don’t know these,’ she frowned, pointing.

‘ The sacred mark. The third omen is upon us. ’ Hael inspected the sole of her foot, tracing the outline. ‘ The first crest is that of the Seers, as you know. The second is your own: the House of the Scion, sovereign to this realm, scribed in the old tongue. ’

‘I have my own crest?’ Cahra’s voice barely rose above a whisper as she gazed at the Sigil of the Seers and the symbols that formed her Imperial insignia.

The first was a rectangle, open at the bottom like it housed a little doorway; the second, a flaming red phoenix atop a blackened crown.

Together, the three characters made a pyramid in the centre of her sole.

‘ Yes, and you shall need it to access this room, my shrine. ’ Hael’s face grew serious.

‘ This is the final time we will meet under these circumstances, between the veil and void. When you next see me, it will be once you unseal these doors. In order to do so, y ou require three things: the Key, your life – and a scarcity of boots. ’ Hael attempted an affable smile, but she saw the worry clouding his features. She gave his fingers a playful squeeze.

‘I need to be barefoot? Thelaema didn’t tell me that. How unlike her,’ Cahra joked, trying to lighten the mood. Hael just nodded absently.

She quietened, wanting to stay but knowing she had to go. Who knew how long she had been gone already? But she needed to ask Hael one final question.

‘When you’re free, will you carry out my instructions, no matter what?’

She took a deep breath. No matter if I die?

In the murkiness of his tomb, Hael vowed, ‘ I will. ’ His words were rough, raw, with the same harshness she’d heard in her own voice in Thelaema’s mountain caves. The power, the Nether-magick, of the realm’s weapon. Silver lightning forked above their heads.

Cahra could almost feel his power coursing through her. She pulled her gaze from the slivers of electricity splaying above them.

‘ It is time, ’ Hael told her, Cahra nodding and raising her palms to meet his, as before, ignoring the stinging fear of pain she knew would rack her body. His Nether-powers would be her only defence now.

And with that, their abreption began.

A minute passed between Cahra’s vision with Hael and her return to the earthly plane. In that time, her horse had moved to the midpoint in between Luminaux’s army and that of Kolyath and Ozumbre, then halted, waiting.

When Cahra finally cracked her eyes open, her body thrumming with Nether-power as sandy winds tossed her hair, she didn’t need to search. She found the Prince instantly.

Thierre .

Steward Atriposte signalled to someone and Thierre was shoved forward, hands bound before him, still bleeding as he staggered towards his family. Towards Cahra.

He’s alive.

Cahra descended from the palomino mare.

Eyes narrowed, Hael’s black rage rising, Cahra’s gaze locked onto Thierre as she scanned, counting body parts and isolating where he was bloody, limping, and what his injuries might be.

Overall, his wounds seemed to be non-fatal and she sighed with relief.

Thierre was closing the distance between them, not without effort, but still.

Cahra approached, boots silent on the black sands. She just needed to talk to Thierre, to make sure he was really okay, before she gave herself up to Kolyath.

To the Steward, and what she’d been terrified of all these years.

Cahra and Hael had performed the abreption, but the refuge of its peace strained, the panic crowding in, too fast, engulfing her as Cahra’s stomach lurched with thoughts of how the Steward might finally put her to death.

Gritting her teeth, she tried to reason with herself. She couldn’t afford to lose her grip.

Think! Gemstones. Black diamond, ruby, sapphire, grey musgravite…

Cahra didn’t let herself look at the Steward’s face.

Instead, she just ran for Thierre.

‘Cahra,’ he whispered hoarsely, half-falling against her, clutching weakly at her arms. ‘I am fine,’ he told her, lungs heaving. ‘I am fine.’

He was standing, but up close, Thierre looked anything but fine.

‘What did they do?’ Cahra’s words came out like gravel, the thirst for vengeance boiling.

‘Cahra,’ he repeated, shaking his head groggily, as if realising something was wrong. ‘What are you doing? You can’t.’ Thierre pulled back to look at her. One of his eyes was beaten shut, the other glassy, unfocused. ‘You can’t—’ His blue goldstone eyes…

I can. I have to.

‘It’ll be okay,’ she told him, looking away.

‘No,’ he said, shaking his head again, wincing. He gripped her shoulders. ‘You cannot go.’ And stiffened as his one good eye realised Raiden and his Royal Guards were approaching to secure his safety. ‘No! NO!’ Thierre yelled, reaching for Cahra as she backed away, hands raised, towards the enemy.

‘I’m sorry,’ she told him as she retreated, Thierre collapsing onto Raiden’s shoulders. The Captain stared, grief-stricken, at his Prince, then turned and saluted Cahra, his fist held staunchly over his heart.

Thierre’s legs gave way, plunging to the desert sands as he screamed at his saviours. Raiden, Piet, Siarl and Queran attempted to haul him back behind their kingdom’s lines.

‘ Cahra! ’ Thierre bellowed, struggling and failing to fight his own Royal Guards under their combined strength.

Cahra was shaken but couldn’t do anything except continue along her current path. The rulers kept their word. They’d set Thierre free.

Now it was up to her. All she had to do was what every beggar in Kolyath did.

Survive.

But it’s not simply about surviving, is it?

Cahra’s head snapped up. That voice , from the caves.

She watched, heart aching, as Thierre was dragged behind the safety of his sister. Sylvie nodded to Cahra, the General’s mask slipping as she glowered, lips twisting in a snarl, in the direction of Kolyath and Ozumbre. The direction Cahra was still moving in.

The voice continued. If survival was your goal, you would’ve run.

Cahra tensed. The whole reason she’d made this decision to trade herself for Thierre was because all she’d ever done was run. That had been her answer to everything.

Deep down, you do not want to. You never did.

Cahra’s steps slowed, but she didn’t stop. She thought defiantly, So?

So, you know what must be done. It’s perhaps as Thelaema told you.

She didn’t respond. Because she remembered what the Oracle had said:

‘You have Hael’s powers… Put them to good use.’

Will you? After all that they have done, will you let this Steward get away with it? There was a pause. Or will you simply wait for another child to die?

Then Cahra spotted Ellian, the beggar boy from Kolyath with the aquamarine eyes, clad in crude armour on Kolyath’s front lines.

He was small compared to the gaunt men that suffered alongside him.

In fact, there were several of them, kids conscripted to be soldiers in a war they’d never had a choice over.

Something loosed itself in her, in her throat, her chest.

This time, the Netherworldly voice was her own .

It’s time to stop running from your responsibilities.

It’s not just about living, Cahra realised with clarity. It’s not even about Thierre.

It’s this . The nightmarish realm they all inhabited.

Kolyath’s Steward. Ozumbre’s King. Their bloodthirsty Commanders.

It’s THEM. Cahra could feel it then, the burning in her eyes. For the first time, the thought crossed her mind. Could she take them down… All of them?

Could she fight Kolyath and Ozumbre’s armies with Hael’s powers, and win?

Her eyes flashed again to the boy Ellian, appearing to recognise her as she stared. Confusion filled his young face. But he wasn’t who she needed to worry about.

She turned her black gaze on the Steward of Kolyath, Atriposte smiling back at her.

This time when Cahra ran, she ran towards the enemy.