Page 39 of Wings of Cruelty and Flame (Heir of Wyvara #1)

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

AMEIRAH

M y hair covered my face as wind tore at me, ripping the air from my lungs at the same time it shoved up my nose, choking me. I didn’t know which way was up, couldn’t see anything around me, had no way to stop my fall. And as death came for me, all I could think was at least I’d died doing something worthwhile. Because of Raheema and I, that ruby wyvern and its rider couldn’t hurt anyone else.

I proved them wrong—all the people who said I was a monster who could only cause harm. A death-dealer, abomination, and killer. I was still those things, but I’d done good here. I might have saved people. And that made a strange peace flow through me, relaxing my limbs, unwinding the knot in my chest, soothing the tight pain from my heart.

I barely even felt the sear of iron poison in my leg, barely felt the hot pounding of pain from where spikes ripped skin and muscle—until I slammed into something hard and unyielding that my whole body rattled, my head jolting on my neck. My leg erupted in sudden fire at the impact.

I screamed with what air I had left, thrashing mindlessly, tears streaking my face, gluing my hair to my cheeks as the wind—the wind had stopped ripping at me, and I was laid on solid ground. No, not solid. It was moving in rough, jerking motions.

I sobbed, my eyes screwed shut and my whole face crumpling as rough arms pulled me upright, manhandling me until I sat with my back against his chest, my whole body shivery and hot with pain. Or maybe that was from the iron barbs.

“Fuck,” Varidian gasped behind me, the sound sharp, short. “Fuck. Fuck, Ameirah.”

It hit me all at once. I wasn’t going to die. I couldn’t hold in the emotion. Sobs wracked my body, tearing up my chest, and I struggled to breathe. I flinched at a loud boom in the distance, and Varidian’s arms tightened around me.

“I would—make a joke about—falling for you but—seems in poor taste,” I rasped.

It took herculean effort to drag my breathing under my control, to catch more than scraps of air with my lungs, to stop shaking. I knew we were flying, felt the beat of Makrukh’s wings as he carried us through the air, but even when I opened my eyes my vision was blurry. Raheema’s panic hit me like a blow to the stomach and I winced, searching around us for a smear of sky blue. All I saw was the grey sky and—

“Is that fire?” I gasped, pulling more air into my chest, blinking until I could vaguely see. Mak flew in a wide arc around the spires and domes of the mosque, and in the distance, near the mountains, large swaths of orange and yellow devoured buildings.

Varidian’s chest expanded with a rough breath. “The legion outside the wall was a distraction. There’s a much bigger one snuck up on us.”

“The shadow,” I breathed, and swore viciously, remembering the shadow of wings Sabira and I saw at the distant mountains, flying for the Red Star. “Fuck, I thought you’d killed them all.”

“Damn, menace, there are a hundred of them. How deadly do you think I am?”

I turned my face to look at him, glad that my vision had mostly straightened. “Very,” I said seriously.

When our eyes met, a tightness dropped from his shoulders and he blew out a sigh. “You scared the shit out of me, Ameirah.”

“Sorry,” I murmured, and kissed him quickly, conscious of the violence and fire unfolding around us. “Though I didn’t exactly plan to fall from Raheema’s back.”

He made a sound in the back of his throat and crushed his lips to mine, kissing me harder, rough with an edge of desperation. “Do not fall from Mak, or I swear I will make you regret it, Ameirah.”

I blinked. “Threatening to kill you is my thing, Varidian.”

“Oh, I won’t kill you,” he rumbled, his voice deep and as growly as Mak’s. “I’ll just withhold those orgasms you love so much.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Bastard.”

He kissed me again, quickly, and leaned back. “Unapologetically, dearling. But we need to focus.”

“Then you shouldn’t have brought orgasms into this,” I muttered.

He ignored my remark. “I tried to control the legion who came over the mountains, but someone had already wrapped them in threads of control.”

“Someone has the same magic as you?” I demanded, my heart skipping. I was unsettled and uneasy around the idea of controlling power before I met him, but I knew I was safe with Varidian because he’d never use it against me and no one else possessed it. That was why the newspapers made such a huge deal of his power—because it was as rare as it was lethal. The magic of villains and dictators throughout history, almost as feared as lightning souls and their chaos magic. You could never know how it might be used, or what a person would be made to do using it. But Varidian was safe.

Whoever was controlling the wyverns was definitely not safe.

“Not the same,” he said, his voice tight. “But similar enough that I can’t sever the threads. There’s only one thing that will take them down, and it won’t be easy. I need you to get back on Raheema and fly home, lock yourself in the cellar and don’t come out until it’s quiet outside.”

My heart thumped with a sudden pulse of anger. “Not a fucking chance.”

“I had to try,” he sighed, like he’d expected my response. “Then hold on to Mak, and don’t let go. We need to get that dome back to the top of the minaret. It’s the only thing that has a chance of pushing the wyverns out of the city.”

I did as he said, jumping hard at the crash of a building on the outskirts of the kasbah. I couldn’t see the destruction from here but—I saw wyverns, a cloud of wings and malice flying over the mountains and into the city. They must have passed over the Diamond to get there. I didn’t want to look and see how our home fared. It if was in ruins, my heart couldn’t take it.

I tore my gaze away before it could reach the Diamond, fixing my attention on where I held onto Mak and—I screamed, ripping my hands away. My bare hands.

“I could have killed you!” I cried, a vicious tremor starting in my fingertips, spreading quickly up my palms to my wrists, my arms. My vision wavered and it was a sign of how fucked up everything was that I couldn’t tell if it was panic or poison making everything hazy.

Mak whipped his head around and widened his eyes, giving me a little rumble.

“He knew you wouldn’t,” Varidian told me, kissing my shoulder to calm me. “He trusts you.”

The words carved through my shields, past my ribs, and into my vulnerable parts. My hand shook worse as I hovered it over his scales. Go on, his impatient grumble seemed to say. I pressed my palm to his warm back, exhaling a sigh when he remained in the air, beating his wings, unhurt. Alive.

Two people I could touch without killing them. I was reeling.

“Hold on,” Varidian reminded me. “Mak, get the dome. Sabira! Grab the other side between the two of us—”

A sky blue blur shot at us like lightning, a constant litany of growls and snarls and shrieks leaving her parted jaws.

“The three of us,” Varidian corrected, nodding to her albeit tightly. “We need to put the dome back in place and pump it full of magic to restore the wards.”

“I’m almost out,” Sabira shouted across the thump of wyvern wings—both ours, I realised, and the group of enemy wyvern getting further into Red Manniston. How were they being controlled? Was their puppet master here, in the city? Or in the mountains, watching? “I didn’t have much magic to begin with.”

I didn’t know her power, and that seemed like a thing I should have asked. I opened my mouth to ask but the sky wavered and tilted around me, and I hissed, gripping Mak’s spike in tight hands.

“Ameirah?” Varidian demanded.

“I’m fine. This is more important. I can get healed later.”

“Healed…” He seemed to notice the smear of blood I’d left on Mak’s ivory scales all at once and jolted, a little sound in the back of his throat. “Who did this to you?”

His voice was low and murderous. It wrapped around me like a hug, making me smile.

“I already killed them.” I patted Mak’s warm scales. “Let’s go, big guy.” The sooner we fixed the shields, the sooner I could pass out. Preferably when we were on the ground and not thirty feet in the air. Raheema rumbled a worried sound; I brushed her off.

“You heard her, Mak,” Varidian said, his voice far sharper and tighter than it had been a minute ago. He held me tighter, but we both knew he’d need his hands to restore the shields’ magic.

I squeezed my eyes shut when Makrukh dove suddenly and without warning, wind racing past us, tearing at my skin, my hair. Only Varidian’s arms locked around my middle kept me on Mak’s back, a fact I ignored because I didn’t like it. I hated feeling so helpless just minutes after I’d felt useful, like I’d finally done something good. Passing out from iron poisoning in the middle of a vital mission would completely undermine me saving Red Manniston from the ruby and its rider.

I waited until Mak stopped, hovering in the air with Sabira’s wyvern and Raheema opposite us, to drag in a breath of air, open my eyes and ask, “Will it work? Putting the dome back, filling it with magic—will it really work?”

“It’ll push out any wyvern with harmful intentions,” Varidian confirmed, his hand flexing on my stomach, like he knew he’d have to let go of me soon.

My nostrils flared as I fought a wave of dizziness, gritting my teeth to hold onto consciousness. Not yet, not yet…

“Raheema,” he said, his tone commanding. “Grasp that edge there and follow Mak’s example. Do not do anything rash or impulsive.”

She ducked her head, her silver eyes big and soulful. Her low sound was one of assent as she got into position. Raheema’s brown wyvern did the same, the three creatures grasping the golden dome in the talons of their back legs, wings pumping to keep us all in the air. I ignored the way the dome wavered in my vision whenever I blinked, but I couldn’t shut out the hot pulse of pain in my leg, worse with every moment. I needed to tell Varidian the barb had been iron, needed to tell him I was poisoned before I fainted, but I didn’t want to distract him when this was so important.

Another crash sounded, closer than before—bricks and rubble and roofs collapsing. A home, or a beloved qahwa shop or a library. My heart pulled tight. If I’d caught the ruby before the rider reached the mosque, this could have been prevented.

“Careful!” Varidian snapped as wings thumped the air, Mak, Raheema, and Sabira’s wyvern rising higher, carrying the dome off the ground. It wasn’t completely pristine I realised, some of the gold had been scratched off as it fell, but it was a miracle it was in one piece. “That’s it, keep it steady.”

I tried to keep my eyes open to watch the dome rise, wingbeat by wingbeat, through the air, but the whole world swum into one hazy cloud of golden stone and bright tiles and bright golden domes. Through squinted eyes, I watched the ground get further and further away, the dome rising higher, gripped in sharp talons as Varidian yelled orders and encouragement.

The sound of his voice wrapped a cloak of safety around me, a strange but welcome feeling. It was nice to know I was safe, to have somewhere to belong, where I was welcome and wanted. I turned my head to rest my cheek against his shoulder, watching the arches and spires of the mosque rise around us.

“Slow!” Varidian yelled. “Don’t drop it now, we’re so close. I need you three to hold it in place while I charge up the shields.”

“I can help,” I mumbled, though my lips were a little numb and I was clearly in no state.

The kiss Varidian pressed to my head made me warm inside. I almost closed my eyes but held on at the grating sound of the dome finally settling into place. Panic cleared my haze for a moment when Varidian released one arm from around me and said, “Mak, get me close. Ameirah? Shit, stay awake for me, dearling, you can’t sleep with that much blood loss.”

I made a low sound, noncommittal. I didn’t want to sleep but it was hard to keep my eyes open.

“Varidian,” I heard Sabira say, her voice tight. “She doesn’t look good.”

“I know,” Varidian snapped, his arm tightening around me. “Mak, closer. We’re running out of time.”

To punctuate that statement, I heard the roar and whoosh of fire. The same sound I heard in the Last Guard and Wyfell—flames eating wood, destroying whole buildings.

“Almost,” he grunted. “I need to be able to touch it, Mak—yes, stay there!”

My eyelids sagged, lashes brushing my cheeks. I couldn’t see what was happening but I felt his power. It rose around me like an air current, like the warmth of the sun and the comfort of his embrace. I knew that warmth could turn to ice, sensed the danger within it, but all it did was make me lean into it.

His breath hissed over me. “It’s not enough,” he said, so quiet I didn’t think I was meant to hear it. “Fuck, Sabira can you—”

“Already doing it,” she replied brusquely.

I would have loved to open my eyes to see what was happening, but every eyelid was made of lead, heavy and immovable. “Varidian,” I murmured.

“You’re alright, dearling, I’ve got you,” he said, a strain to his voice that I didn’t like. Was he alright? I tried to force my eyes open to no avail, tried to move my body, to help. He was my husband and I didn’t like to hear him sound so drained.

“It’s not working,” Sabira shouted.

“I know,” Varidian said through gritted teeth, stiffening behind me, his body made of ice and steel.

“Should I find another rider? Everyone’s trying to push back the wyverns but—”

My head lolled against Varidian’s shoulder. I tugged on my eyelids, trying to get them to open. “I have magic,” I whispered.

“You don’t have strength to spare, dearling,” Varidian argued, his tone hard despite the term of endearment.

“I can… do it,” I rasped, my brow furrowing as a wave of dizziness hit. Oh, the poison was bad. I lifted my hand, grunting when my heavy arm dragged it back to Mak’s back. I swore, or grunted, or maybe the sound was just in my head. Raheema’s fierce shriek made my ears hurt, but the meaning of it warmed my heart and gave me enough strength to lift my hand an inch, then another.

She can do it. Let her do it, Raheema cried.

“Forgive me if I don’t trust you with my wife’s safety,” Varidian bit out, his voice both sharp and quiet.

He’s weakening, I tried to tell Raheema. He’s snapping because he’s afraid.

Shit, that was true. He was afraid—afraid we wouldn’t get the shields back up, that we’d be overrun by a hundred wyverns, that our home would be demolished and we’d be left flying over rubble and ashes. Or maybe that we’d be dead. His fear lifted my hand another few inches. I locked my jaw against a scream as pain tore through my thigh, breathing fast through my nose, cracking my eyes open.

My fingertips hovered by the dome, so close I only needed an extra push to touch the gilded stone. I strained, breathing faster, sweat dripping off the end of my nose. Exhaustion pressed down on me, crushing my chest, threatening to close my eyes again. My breath hitched when Varidian’s fingers encircled my wrist, warm and comforting, and then my palm was flat to the dome, the stone cold and rough against my skin.

I didn’t know how to summon my dark power, didn’t know where it lurked within my body or where to reach for it, but any fears were blast apart when the second I touched the dome, my magic reacted to Varidian’s.

He hissed a curse, tightening his arm around me as magic whooshed across the stone like a match thrown on tinder, catching and spreading—power, heat, and fury. It was my anger, my rage at these wyverns invading my home, making my husband afraid, ripping open my thigh, infecting me with iron, hurting more people, more children.

Enough, my soul snarled, teeth bared, and as if it was that simple the maelstrom of magic gathering around us caved to my wishes. I felt the fire warp, its fire shift and change, felt my purpose sink into the storm of magic Varidian had built around the dome and then—

“They’re falling,” he breathed in horror or awe. “The wyverns are falling from the sky. Ameirah… you… you killed them all.”

My eyes fell shut again, my arm too heavy to hold up my hand. I’d killed a hundred wyverns, and I couldn’t bear to think about what that said about me, what that made me.

“What a wonder you are,” Varidian murmured, kissing the top of my head. “You saved us all, dearling.”

I killed them and… I saved us. Saved everyone in Red Manniston, my magic joining Varidian’s to make a lethal shield. And I knew what that made me—not evil, not a monster or anything else my father said I was. It didn’t make me perfect or good either. Just a fae, capable of both. Capable of murder without mercy, but also of compassion and good intentions and the odd bout of reckless heroism.

“I saved us,” I sighed, letting my hand fall away, my head growing heavy on Varidian’s shoulder.

“Ameirah,” he said urgently. “Don’t go to sleep, stay with me.”

But I’d only held on because we were in danger and Varidian needed me. Now the shields were up, unconsciousness came for me, and I greeted it with relief. The pain swept away, the burn of poison, the exhaustion… all of it faded under a blanket of blackness.