Page 42 of Heart of Fire (Royal Ice Dragons #3)

HANNA

The next day, the chill of the evening breeze made me shiver as I stood next to Dare. Or at least, I wanted to pretend it was the wind.

My practiced habits of nonchalance had died on the floor of the children’s nursery while I was screaming on the other side of the city, desperate to save them.

Dare and I were in the shadows of the forest, but when we walked up that hill—separately, which I already dreaded—we would be walking into a broken-down temple, long abandoned, that the cultists had taken over tonight.

Roses clung feebly along the leaning columns, and half the roof had crumbled away into disuse. The moonlight fell on the cultists who walked alone or in pairs. All of them wore hooded white robes.

I would stand out in the borrowed clothes of a dead woman masquerading as a goddess.

“We could collapse the temple on them,” I said, but that was just a fantasy.

Finding the identity of the lady hadn’t mattered in the end. We needed to find out who was controlling this rebellion back in the Ice Kingdom.

A dark thought occurred to me: maybe we could ally with whoever controlled the cult.

It would be terrible, given how deranged the cult was, but as long as they agreed not to harm my sister and her family, could we pass up the opportunity? If they could help us topple Edric off his throne, we could deal with them later.

But…the memory of the blood they’d drenched my clothes with replayed, and bile rose in the back of my throat. I scrubbed my hands across my skirt, even though they were clean.

Dare caught my fingers in his. When I looked up at him, he was studying me seriously. But he didn’t comment.

“Just try not to shine too much tonight. Remember, you’re playing the role of the most dull dead lady in the kingdom. They won’t realize just how scared they should be until it’s too late.”

“Unless they figure out who I really am and manage to kill me before…” I trailed off, then I forced a smile that felt as brittle as glass.

Mortality had felt so much more real since I screamed myself raw in the coral mansion.

“We’ll be right here,” he promised. He sounded unconcerned, but he couldn’t hide the worried way he studied me. He squeezed my hand, and I pulled away—not because I wanted to, but because I was afraid I would cling to him.

I ran my fingertips over the delicate cord of the bracelet around my wrist. When I snapped it—if I snapped it—my brothers-in-law and their best men would descend upon the temple.

Right now, there wasn’t the faintest whisper of them anywhere in sight. Dragons flew so quickly; they’d be here in a few heartbeats if I needed them, but we wanted the chance to expose every cultist who had been part of the plot to murder my sister, nieces and nephews. Tonight, we should be able to catch their high priest.

My sister’s men had been seen leaving the castle, flying off for parts unknown. There had been no word from the castle of a calamity, but the Guild members would expect they would keep the queen’s death a secret while they sought vengeance. My sister, nieces and nephews had been spirited off to a summer castle to hide, allowing those who knew of the attack to believe they’d all died in the blood-streaked nursery.

We had dragons on standby, and Dare and I were powerful in our own right…but there was no denying that there were more unknowns tonight than any of us found comfortable. I was touched that Honor and her men had acquiesced to my plan, even though they weren’t excited about it.

The truth was, I was also not particularly excited. But we do what we must for the ones we love.

“Hanna, you’ll be brilliant.” His fingers brushed mine again, anchoring me. “And I’ll be right there, if you need me.”

The cord around my wrist wasn’t the only enchantment I carried tonight. My brothers-in-law had also enchanted my face, inscribing a rune tattoo into my skin so that even if my magic was taken away, they wouldn’t change my face.

But I knew better than most how magical protections can go awry.

“Promise me that you won’t end things early,” I said.

“Don’t ask for promises you know I can’t make.”

“Dare, I’m serious.”

“So am I. We will wait as long as we can, but in the end, if your life is in danger, we are calling them in.” His voice softened. “There will be other chances to defeat them, Hanna.”

“Don’t be too protective of me,” I warned him.

His lips curled up on one side in a crooked smile. “Am I ever?”

It was one of the things that I loved about Dare. He believed in my capacity to hold my own, to care for myself.

“But I’ll be there, in the crowd, being an angry peasant.” He wore a plain tunic that suited him, setting off his deep, mesmerizing green eyes. “Really, I was born to play this role.”

I grinned at him, although it was a little uncertain. I couldn’t believe we were really in a place where we could joke about his past.

He added, “I’ll stay close.”

“Don’t stay too close.” If things went awry, I wanted him to be able to get away.

“Once again, I make no promises that I won’t keep.”

Maybe I found that comforting. “Let’s hope they love Lady Ginelle as much as they love their twisted little rituals. I suppose anything is possible.”

I took a steadying breath and, after checking to make sure no one was walking up the trail, I moved steadily out of the woods. I didn’t look back at Dare. He would wait for his own opportunity to enter the temple.

The road beneath my feet was rutted. Moonlight illuminated it like a silver path up to the temple, which would have been beautiful in ruins if not for the dread that curdled my stomach.

As I stepped over the cracked threshold, the sounds of chanting rose around me until it seemed to thrum under my feet and vibrate through my body. My heart sped to match the beat.

Hooded figures swayed as they chanted. The fervor in the air was palpable. I wished for the chanting to stop, and then I got my wish as silence rippled through the room.

I didn’t feel remotely comforted as the chanting slowly died and faces turned toward me.

The noise was replaced by silence as deep as the grave as they bowed reverently. I stood in that deathly silence and raised my chin, fixing a vacant smile on my face and trying to channel Ginelle.

I was lucky we had spent as long as we had together on the ship; I had studied how to change my mannerisms to mimic others, and I was able to carry myself like the woman.

“Our Lady Ginelle,” the crowd whispered. And, threaded through their whispers too, “The Shadow Weaver goddess.”

The long gauzy black dress I wore clung to my legs as I moved through the temple. Since everyone else wore white, I felt uncomfortably visible as I moved through the crowd, but this was my disguise.

A woman’s eyes brightened, and she bowed her head to me as if Ginelle inspired genuine reverence. “Lady Ginelle! Our priestess!”

I smiled enigmatically at her. Enigmatic smiles were my safest bet tonight.

“Imagine,” she murmured to me, her eyes alight, “the gods walking among us again, granting us the strength to reshape this world. But now only the worthy will carry magic. The gods will protect us.”

Their eagerness for power was a thin veil over darker intentions, no matter what they claimed. It rankled a bit to pretend they were the honorable ones, though I was sure that was how they saw themselves.

Everyone deludes themselves into believing they’re heroes.

“Lady Ginelle.” A dark-haired man almost leapt in front of me, and I stopped short, not bothering to hide my look of distaste. He didn’t seem to notice. The man’s voice was eager as he caught my attention, and his eyes sparkled with the kind of fervor that I had only ever felt for desserts and orgasms. “Tell us, how did it feel to dispatch the queen and her little heirs?”

The question hit me like a physical blow. I summoned a smile that felt like it might crack my face. “I do the work the gods require, though there was no joy in taking the souls of children.”

“On this plane,” he said, giving me a sharp look.

Fuck. I’d misspoken instead of saying the appropriate nonsense.

“There’s no joy in that either. Death will be unpleasant for the Royals as they face the gods they have stolen from,” I said, even though the words sickened me, and he seemed satisfied. I went to move on, but he blocked my path, his face still eager.

“Indeed,” he murmured, leaning closer. I fought the impulse to back away—or slap his looming face. “Did they beg for mercy?”

Images—unwanted ones—flashed through my mind. Instead of Honor leaning against the dollhouse as she had last night, I imagined her sitting up against it, in a pool of her own blood. Her arm might’ve been thrown out, her fingers forever reaching for her children but never connecting with them. I could see the blood streaking the wall of the hall that led deeper into the nursery, and the still little figures…

As I dragged my mind back into the present day, my emotions churned through my body. My heart was beating too fast, panicky beyond reason. I fought to keep my serene, stupid expression fixed.

“They aren’t just a queen and her heirs. They’re a mother and children. Of course the children hid and begged. Of course she wept and screamed, thinking her own sister had betrayed her.”

He rewarded me with a smile. My fingers twitched as I hid them in the folds of my gown, but my face didn’t betray me.

I was going to find him personally and decapitate him, both for his sick fantasies and for forcing my mind to return to where I desperately did not want to. I couldn’t dwell on what almost happened to Honor and the children.

Satisfied, the cultist drifted away through the bodies that filled the great hall.

I drew in a long, ragged breath, trying to steel myself.

I needed to get someplace I could have some space, and my feet carried me toward the altar on the raised dais. No one went up there; I would be visible to all in the hall, but at least I’d be free of the murmurs and touches as I went past people, of the way they greeted me with shining eyes.

Lady Ginelle’s patron goddess stood on the dais, behind the flower-wreathed altar. She towered above us all. The statue that represented her was draped in veils of black silk that seemed to absorb the flickering candlelight.

Her face was perfectly beautiful but inscrutable, and her eyes looked like hollow voids. An eerie feeling swept over my skin like a thousand little spider legs.

Before I could quite reach it, a young man slipped back his hood and smiled at me. “Beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Yes. I’m honored to serve her.” But I didn’t think she was beautiful.

I thought she was haunting.

“I can’t wait to see her rise tonight,” he said, and I twisted to watch as he disappeared into the crowd.

Ginelle had told us she was the priestess for the Shadow Weaver. But what did that truly mean?

As the terrible sensation that I was in a trap rose, I glanced at the dark night that stretched away beyond the broken walls of the temple. I could flee. My sister and her men would probably thank me for it before they converged on the temple.

But then I would never discover the identity of the lord who led them back in the Ice Kingdom, and who could be yet another enemy of Kaelan’s. I’d never be sure that the threat to my sister’s life was over. I’d have to choose which of their lives to protect with my presence.

Kaelan needed me, and I needed to be free to stand at his side without guilt.

As I climbed the steps to the dais, their gazes brushed over my body. But suddenly, all I could focus on was the goddess’s statue, which towered tall above me.

I reached out a tentative hand to trace the cool marble of the goddess’s outstretched palm.

Was she real? And if the goddess did exist in some way, did the Shadow Weaver want to be the figurehead for these people who sought to steal all the magic for themselves?

There were only a hundred people pulsing around us to the beat of power and magic and music, but would we really kill this movement tonight? The cult had been powerful enough to plant this false sickness to cover the cost of their magic being drawn away. How many people had been sickened and died of this plague for the sake of their story?

I’d never been the praying type. But with the chanting rising, as I stood before the altar, I offered a silent prayer to whatever gods might be listening: to protect my sister and my men, to guide Dare and me, and to deliver us from the hungry shadows.

With my fingers resting against the cold marble of the Shadow Weaver’s palm, a sudden chill crept up my arm. Suddenly my bones were heavy, tired, as if I had been walking for a thousand miles.

My breath hitched as a wave of dizziness washed over me. Panic flared within my chest as I realized the altar wasn’t just a symbol.

It was a conduit.

The cult was stealing magic through these statues of the gods.

“Is everything all right, Lady Ginelle?” a voice called from the steps, tinged with concern—or was it suspicion?

I forced a smile, though I could feel my lips tremble.

“Yes,” I lied smoothly, withdrawing my hand as if nothing had happened as I turned to face them. But inside, my horror was mounting.

There was no mistaking the ebbing flow of power within me, like water slipping through cupped hands. The cult had found a way to syphon my abilities, draining them away. To steal our magic for themselves? Or to feed their idols’ insatiable hunger?

Ginelle would’ve known better than to touch them unless she was purposefully sacrificing her power.

I was sure she’d died—the second time—hoping I’d discover this secret so painfully.

“Excuse me,” I murmured, turning away from the altar and the prying eyes of the cultists. My heart raced as I struggled to maintain composure. Every step was an effort, and the temple seemed to spin in an endless blur of white marble.

I reached out with my mind to Dare, but it was as if I were in a closed room, alone. The doors and windows which had opened as I fell in love with Dare were all shuttered.

I needed to find Dare, to warn him, but I found myself swaying. I reached out and braced myself against a tall marble column.

“Tonight Lady Ginelle will become the Shadow Weaver,” one acolyte murmured to another on the other side of the column.

I blinked, trying to be sure I’d really heard what I thought I did.

“Why didn’t I know earlier?” A man’s voice complained, sounding bitter. “Is that why the Lord is coming all the way across the sea—because this is where the Shadow Weaver was once worshipped?”

“Her power is strongest here, but it’s still taken so many sacrifices to give her enough power to take form.”

He scoffed. “We could have started with the Ice Kingdom gods. Then we wouldn’t have had to travel.”

“And then the Snake Queen wouldn’t have funded the plague.”

So that was how they had the power to unleash such a devastating force.

Panic clawed its way up my throat, and for a moment, I struggled to breathe, my mind racing with the implications. When they looked at me, they saw Lady Ginelle, the noble they intended to offer up as a living temple for the goddess. My disguise was a death sentence, a trap I’d willingly walked into.

Had Ginelle known? Had she intended to offer herself up as a living sacrifice, the last step after giving up her magic and her health? Or had this been a last cruel trick?

I hadn’t really seen Ginelle.

I’d been so arrogant.

The room seemed to tilt, my vision narrowing. I couldn’t find Dare anywhere in the room, and no matter how much I tried to fight the impulse, I couldn’t stop myself from looking for him.

I could feel eyes on me, not just one pair but many, their gazes expectant. An icy tendril of fear snaked its way up my spine as the cult members began to converge on me.

I caught a glimpse of Dare through the throng of bodies, but I couldn’t reach him.

“Lady Ginelle.” A man stepped out of the crowd, beckoning me toward the altar. “It is time for you and the goddess to become one. For you to ascend.”

To ascend .

No wonder they were telling people not to fear death. They were draining them of their magic, making them sick all along the way and then taking their lives with the last of their magic.

If Ginelle had been just a pawn, ultimately—prey as well as predator—then was it the Lord who had masterminded this project with the Snake Queen?

“My Lady,” one of the men said, offering me a hand up onto the altar just like he would hand me up into a carriage.

I yanked back from him, and I turned to find the entire crowd pressing in toward me.

“Let us help, my lady.” A few women surfaced from the crowd, stepping past the men. They offered me warm smiles, and one clasped my arm to help support me as my legs weakened.

She had dark hair escaping her hood in wisps, and kind eyes, worn at the corners. “Don’t be afraid. You want this, my lady. It’s only natural to fear opening a new door, but what waits beyond will be incredible.”

When I tried to pull away from her, more arms seized me. Her eyes met mine, worried, as the crowd surged around me, tearing me toward the altar. “You want this!” she called to me again.

And as they pulled me toward the altar, they murmured soothingly to me, trying to comfort me.

I tried to break away. I didn’t want to snap the string, not yet, but I wanted to be free to rip it off my wrist. “Where is the Lord?”

“He’s coming,” a woman promised me.

As they pushed me down onto the altar, my head banged against the hard marble, and my bare foot kicked off one of the flower wreaths. There were so many hands, pressing me down, pulling my arms mercilessly.

She rested a cool, calming hand on my forehead. “It will be beautiful, my lady. You will become the living temple of the goddess.”

I raised my magic, but I felt empty inside. My magic had been hollowed out.

When I raised my eyes to the goddess statue that loomed above me, she seemed to be smiling down at me. Those vacant eyes didn’t seem vacant anymore.

But still. I had been raised to fight dirty. I threw elbows and banged my forehead into the nose of a man who stumbled back, his ritual robes now stained with blood. I managed to break away.

I found myself standing barefoot on the stairs, surrounded by the murmuring crowd. Their kindness seemed to be ebbing into malice.

Beyond the temple, over the dark forest, I caught the flicker of a dragon’s wing before it soared upward to be lost in the clouds.

I wasn’t alone.

I had to last a little longer.

I started to raise my hands, to try to find the right words to stall them. I couldn’t stand to be trapped on that damned altar. “I am so pleased to be the conduit for the goddess. But let us wait until we all have gathered here.”

My voice shook with fear, betraying me. Just a little. But it was enough. I could sense the crowd turning on me.

I met Dare’s eyes in the crowd. Just for a flicker of a moment, because I didn’t dare implicate him. I needed time to come up with another idea, but the emotions of the crowd were dangerous.

Dare wove through the crowd. I forced myself not to look at him, though I had the sense of him moving purposefully, parallel to the dais, before I lost sight of him.

Their voices washed over me as if I would drown in them as I backed up, my bare feet finding their way across the cold marble. I had to stall them. I needed for the Lord to arrive before I had to call for help.

“She’s just another noble,” someone muttered in the crowd. “She’s selfish?—”

More muttering voices washed over me, as if I would drown in them.

“You don’t know how you would cope if you ever found yourself worthy of being the vessel?—”

“Did she ever really intend to serve the goddess?”

“We should just kill her now. She’s not a worthy vessel of the Shadow Weaver?—”

Suddenly, I found myself up against a hard chest with a blade to my throat.

Dare stood behind me, his arm circling my shoulders. The sharp edge of the dagger kissed my skin, and I raised my chin to try to escape it, finding my head pressed against the fabric of his tunic.

“I’ve always hated nobles,” he told us, his voice rough but carrying. “Nobility murdered my family. Nobility treated me as if I were nothing. You all are right…the nobles have been the true scourge on our land. They haven’t deserved their power.”

He dragged me back abruptly, his hands rough against my skin. I stumbled with him, my feet tangling in the hem of my long dress.

I didn’t have time to react, my mind reeling from the betrayal, as Dare pushed me down onto the altar.

His inscrutable gaze met mine.

“Tie her down,” Dare ordered.