Page 164 of The Chains You Defy

“Which is?”

“What you’ll wear to the ball. Hmm. Of course. I’ll request the tailor to come by as soon as possible.”

Rolling my eyes, I jabbed my elbow in his side, but without much force. Only Thain would deem the question of how to dress for an event hosted by my enemy as equally important as how to escape from said adversary.

Thain grinned, rubbing his muscles where I’d hit him. “And I’ll ensure you’re accompanied by a suitable match. Would be a shame if I allowed you to be humiliated again.”

There was only one place in Galanta I hated more than Alaiann, and that was the Breocharn. Not that I’d visited the hostile area before, but my imagination was vivid enough that I’d avoided such a journey from the get-go. Until now.

A few hours ago, I’d reached the outskirts of the region, scattered with only some lonely flames here and there, and now, I was already dodging entire fields of fire.

My surroundings would only get worse. What a prospect.

In the distance, I could spot the first of the burning rolling bushes, which had no name but were as annoying as Thain, if not more.

I wish I could just shadowwalk to the center of the desert, but the amount of power doing so would cost me was too huge. The danger of dropping out of the darkness in the middle of an inferno was too real, and even I wasn’t inflammable forever, especially not when exhaustion threatened to render me useless.

Sweat was running down my face and back, but taking off my armor wasn’t an option. Who knew what other fireproof horrors lurked in this godsforsaken antechamber of death?

Being alone, with only Cath and my thoughts to keep me company, was wrong. I’d gotten so used tocamaraderie in the past months, and the weirdest thing was that I didn’t disapprove of this development. When had I changed from working best on my own to operating as part of a team? Huh, curious.

Also, my mind wouldn’t stop brooding about the potential reasons why Galrach had sent me to the Doitean. Or, to use his words, lesser fire fae. My throat throbbed as too much hot air rushed into my lungs after I’d been unable to suppress a snort. Their firestone would be worth nothing to him, and as I’d pondered earlier, only a few conclusions made sense.

He wanted me gone from court for a while, which was a given, considering the haste with which I’d been cast out. Then, I couldn’t shake the assumption that this mission was tied to whatever influenced the deteriorating fabric between the worlds.

By now, I was convinced that my grandfather was involved, if not even the driving force behind the impending catastrophe. Either that or he’d completely lost his marbles, targeting the remnants of the ancient ancestors of all fae on a whim.

There were six tribes, one for each element, said to have birthed magic on behalf of Kalag, who bestowed the gift on them.

An old myth, prophesying that as long as the ancients lived among us, no harm would ever befall Galanta, amplified my unease.

Half a day ago, I’d remembered a legend stating that the firestone Galrach wanted was sacred to the few remaining Doitean and was tied to their life’s essence. And while I didn’t give a shit about others when it came to Nayana, I didn’t want to destroy one of the ancienttribes. And—I was back to overthinking my dilemma, even though I’d already come to a decision.

For the first time in my existence, I’d try my hardest to fight a military order of the High King. This was bigger than his thirst for power or any amount of unimportant lives. My actions could determine whether one world or both faced complete destruction. And even if Galanta stayed unharmed, there would definitely be collateral damage.

But I had a plan. Maybe my reputation wasn’t an ideal prerequisite for diplomacy, and my control over my temper was questionable at best, but I’d still attempt to convince the Doitean of my good intentions. No violence, no murder.

There was a first time for everything.

The heat became oppressive. Even though the fires of the Breocharn were smokeless, the blistering ardency and lack of air in general made crossing the area almost impossible. I’d never been inside before, but I refused to burn to a crisp, no matter what happened. And truth be told, I was convinced I could traverse this inferno.

Cath, my well-bred and obedient stallion, chose this moment to revolt. His eyes were full of fear, and soon, he’d refuse to continue at all.

Damn, we were still days away from the center.

I’d wished for an easier passage, at least until I would be way closer to my destination, but that hope got squashed.

Of course, there must be a reason no one ventured into the Breocharn, even though the area was rumored to host a plethora of rare and precious gems scattered throughout the flames. And if greed wasn’t winning—

Sighing, I tugged at my magic and created a dark cocoon around me and Cath. Keeping this up for days and maintaining the protection against the incandescence would require a lot of my power, which sadly wasn’t indefinite. But this way of traveling would cost me less than shadowwalking.

And so, as the fires blazed around me, my hatred for His Royal Majesty Galrach Folus Iadrann, first High King of all fae, and my grandfather, festered with each passing moment until my loathing flared hotter than the entire Breocharn. I yearned for his demise. Not because I desired his place, oh gods, no.

He had to die because I couldn’t bear a world in which he continued to exist for very much longer.

Exhaustion wasn’t a comprehensive enough term to cover how deeply fatigue had settled into my existence. After all the time I’d already traveled across the Breocharn, and after I’d been attacked by hundreds of burning tumbling bushes, I was more carrying Cath than him transporting me. He’d panicked a little while ago, but leaving him behind wasn’t an option—if I didn’t protect him, he’d burn to death. Was it strange that I held the life of an animal in higher regard than the one of a fae or human?

Thank fuck. Finally, the fire fields opened up, and I rode into a plane, sandy and hot still, butnothing blazed anymore. Cautiously, I dropped my magic, groaning at how much I’d spent. If the Doitean sent me away without hearing me out, I could run into serious trouble on my way back before even facing Galrach. Depletion was a bitch, and I wasn’t keen on experiencing another near-burnout so soon, especially not in the middle of a literal inferno.