Page 67 of The First Spark (Dynasty of Fire #1)

Kalie’s brows furrowed, and she glanced at Zane, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“The goddess urges peace between her daughters,” the Speaker rasped. “You are not as divided as Zagan and Calla. There is still time to set aside your differences.”

Kalie opened her mouth to protest, but she quickly shut it. To hear the Speaker’s voice was unthinkable, and to interrupt her was beyond unthinkable. She bit down on her tongue and waited until her many rippling voices died away.

“All due respect, Your Supreme Holiness, but when Zagan murdered Queen Azura, Calla challenged him to avenge her. Her ally—” she jabbed a finger at Iliana— “murdered Azura’s chosen heir, my aunt Calida, so I don’t see how my challenge is any different from Calla’s.”

“Then you wish to declare a challenge?”

“You killed your aunt,” a legionnaire guffawed, “and now you’re trying to pass off the blame on the Prime Minister. The Duchissa won’t participate in this ridiculous duel.”

“You have no right to speak in the holy presence of the goddess’s Speaker,” growled a Dalian guard, still kneeling. A vein throbbed in his neck as he glared at the legionnaire .

“Holy presence,” the legionnaire mocked, marching down the carpet. “Bullshit.”

Kalie gasped. Iliana shouted for him to stop, and Kalie tried to dive between him and the Speaker, but he shoved past her. Other legionnaires caught her shoulders, holding her back.

As one, the Dalian guards lurched to their feet and aimed their pulsers at the legionnaire.

He froze.

Kalie froze, too. A violet glow bathed the golden hall in shades of purple, and the epicenter was the Speaker, whose hands were clasped atop her knobbly oaken staff.

Her gemstone necklace shone as bright as the Dalian sun, and the purple aura radiating from her figure matched the violet energy crackling in her golden eyes.

“I tire of your ignorance,” the Speaker rasped, her multiple voices twining into an ethereal one, “and I speak only to my daughters. Is there to be a challenge for the throne?”

Kalie’s mouth flapped soundlessly. One celestial voice, my daughters …

She nearly fell to her knees.

“Kalie,” Zane murmured.

Her head throbbed mercilessly, but he met her gaze and held it. She could practically hear him screaming trust me , and after everything they’d been through, she did. She glanced at Mira for confirmation that there was a plan, but Mira had vanished.

Frowning, Kalie turned to Iliana. “I, Princessa Kalista Hannover, challenge you, Iliana Lexington, to Fallé di Azura. I leave my fate in our Queen’s hands.”

“Who is your champion?” As the Speaker lowered her age-spotted hands, the blazing violet glows ebbed and faded. Her aura vanished, her eyes faded to gold, but her necklace flickered with faint purple light.

Zane rose to his feet. “I will stand for my Duchissa.”

Kalie swallowed hard, praying to Azura to protect him. She could’ve sworn the Speaker’s gemstone necklace glowed brighter in response.

“Noble blood indeed runs in your veins. A bloodline destined for legends,” the Speaker said. Zane’s brows drew together. “And for you, Your Majesty?”

“I’ll fight for her.”

A hulking legionnaire stepped forward, and Kalie gulped. Zane towered over the other guards, but this legionnaire was a mountain of a man, with huge, burly fists and a hardened face criss-crossed by vicious scars.

Zane blanched. “Your Supreme Holiness, I don’t think this man meets the requirements.”

“Princessa Kalista’s champion is correct.

Your champion is deemed unacceptable to the goddess.

” The Speaker shuffled forward, apparently unconcerned about the legionnaires sizing her up like prey.

“In order to represent a claimant, the champion must be born on Dali, have the blood of Dalian nobility, and be a registered Dalian citizen.”

“As it should be.” Iliana eased herself onto her throne. “Give me an hour, Your Supreme Holiness. I’ll find a worthy champion.”

“Then it’s settled.” The Speaker clasped her hands atop her cane, and her gemstone necklace blazed brighter. “The duel will be held in two hours’ time. The goddess blesses both her daughters and wishes their champions the best of luck.”

“And Ariah?” Kalie breathed, wringing her hands. “Mylis?”

Iliana sighed. “If you’d like to pray, I’ll have guards escort you to the chapel.”

Tears burned Kalie’s eyes. Despite the excitement that had thrummed in her veins at the Speaker’s presence, she wished that Zane had come too late. That Carik had already taken her by the time he appeared, and Ariah had arrived here, safe.

Legionnaires grabbed her arms, tugging her away from Zane. Trust me , he mouthed, as two guards seized him and shoved him out the door.

As Zane flexed his fingers, a white-hot burst of pain shot up his arm, and he slouched against the cell’s bloodstained wall, muttering a curse.

It wasn’t his sword hand that the legionnaires had stomped on, but it was at least sprained, if not broken.

His ribs were screwed up, too—one steel-toed boot to the chest, and he was positive he’d heard something crack.

They hadn’t stayed long, but it had been long enough.

An agonized wail shattered through the dungeons, vibrating the iron grate separating him from the dark stone hallway. Zane shivered. Mordir had no mercy—Death didn’t give a damn about the lives of mortals—but he desperately hoped that scream hadn’t come from Mylis.

He grimaced at the coppery stains on the floor. If Landon Grant had located Mylis, Mira should’ve found him by now.

“Save my son , ” Grant had begged, before parting from him at the end of the mountain shafts. For Dali’s most infamous traitor, Mylis’s father really did seem surprisingly normal.

Unlike the Speaker.

The old bat was weird. The lights and voice mods had been a cool trick, he’d give her that.

Her glowing eyes, though—fancy cybernetics, or a reflection from the light strips she’d sewn in her robes?

Either way, he wouldn’t have survived the ride over with someone on that kind of power trip.

He owed Mira a drink when they made it out of this.

If they made it out of this.

His shoulders hunched, and he rested his elbows on his knees.

“I’m your Heredem, so you do as I tell you.” As the haughty voice burst through the corridor, Zane stiffened. “If I order you to stand aside, you move. Unless you’d like to experience my displeasure?”

“Your Highness, she can’t be down here!”

“Fired,” Selene drawled. “You have an hour to clear out your belongings, or I’ll have you thrown into one of these cells for defying me. Now, is there going to be a problem, or will the rest of you let me through?”

Footsteps scuffled against the stone ground, followed by the click-click-click of stilettos. The hem of a dark blue dress swept past the cell bars, and Zane raised his eyes as Selene stopped before his cell, folding her arms over her embroidered gown.

He glared at her.

Turning her nose up at him, Selene glanced to her right, where the guards must’ve been standing. “Take a walk.”

Rushed footsteps scampered away. Selene crooked an imperious finger towards herself, and a slim figure in a mud-stained beige uniform shuffled to her side. Zane’s heart slammed to a halt. The jacket’s hood covered her hair and shadows obscured her face, but that was Kalie’s outfit.

“I’m not sure why you want to see this buffoon,” Selene said, arching a finely-shaped eyebrow, “but you have eight minutes until Carik’s men sweep this hallway. We have to be gone by then. No one will interrupt you.”

With a disdainful sniff, she dropped a rung of clanging keys into Kalie’s hand, slipped something in Kalie’s pocket, and marched away.

A roar thundered down the musty corridor.

“Kalie,” Zane breathed. He slumped against the rusted bars, wincing as pain shot through his ribs. “Did they hurt you?”

Keys jangled as Kalie unlocked the cell door and slipped inside.

She pulled it shut, stopping it before it clicked.

Zane yanked his hands out of the grooves and tried to reach for her hood, so he could inspect her face, but she stepped past his hands and wrapped him in a hug.

A low whine slipped through his clenched teeth.

She was a wave of warmth, but his ribs ached .

As she pulled back, her eyes widened. “Are you hurt?”

“Little roughed up.”

A deep crease appeared between Kalie’s brows as she seized his injured hand. It was already swelling. Stroking her thumb across his knuckles, she slanted him a look through her eyelashes.

“Can you feel this?”

Surely she didn’t mean to tease, but pretending she did helped him deny anything was wrong. Zane tapped his chin with his other hand. “You know, I’m not sure. Maybe if you do it again…”

“Flirt,” she retorted, but like him, it was weak. She dropped his hand, glanced in her pocket, and led him to the pathetic concrete bed. “ What’s going on? Why is Nadar surrendering? I told Mira not to let you do this?—”

“And I told you not to do this!”

She flinched.

Raking a hand through his hair, Zane plopped down next to her. Now wasn’t the time to scream and rant.

The camera was trained on him. Those things had been trash while he was on duty, but he shielded his lips anyway as he whispered in her ear. “Your mother called after you left. Your father won the battle for Etov. I told Nadar and Ryker to stall in negotiations until his fleets get here.”

Kalie’s mouth gaped open, and her hot breath ghosted across his face. “They’re coming?”

Zane nodded, then averted his eyes. It wasn’t his place, and if something went wrong and it was all false hope, it’d be on him.

“What is it? Tell me.”

Screw it. They might both end up dead anyway. “She said amaia’te .”

Kalie jolted back. She shook her head rapidly, then stopped and touched her fingers to her parted lips. “She—she really said that?”

“She did.”

A pitiful screech pierced the hall, and Zane’s fists clenched. Kalie shivered violently as her gaze drifted towards the scream.