03] ES) Firestorm (3 page)

A few minutes in, I had enough energy, and the pain had subsided to a dull throb, allowing me to finally speak. “Do you have a name?”

“Brand.” He jabbed a fist into my lower back, shoving me forward and effectively cutting me off from asking him another question. Which was going to be where had Maggie gone? Not that I thought she’d be any kinder but I was curious as to why she’d left us.

The Pit was set up like a beehive and with more hallways and doors than actual rooms. Some of the doors opened straight into the Pit itself, a bubbling pool of lava that to anyone not a fire elemental was instant death. At least, that was what I understood. I’d never seen the actual Pit myself, only heard the rumors. For all I knew it could be the size of a mud puddle. Though I doubted that very much.

I tried to pay attention to the number of turns and twists but it was quickly apparent we were deliberately taken on the longest route possible, and I was sure we backtracked at least twice before we stopped in front of what I assumed was our destination.

The doors were each ten feet across and at least that high. Built out of solid gold, there was a perfect likeness of a wingless serpentine dragon etched into the malleable material. Emeralds for eyes, sapphire scales, and the flame that curled out his mouth was shards of rubies and yellow diamonds. Above the dragon was an inscription:

All who enter shall be judged, and those found lacking shall be destroyed.

“Wow, that’s comforting.” I couldn’t help the sarcasm dripping from my mouth, it covered the fear that grew in my heart. Ash shifted so he was next to me, our Enders flanking either side of us.

“Trust me, Lark. You have to trust me.” His voice was low, and his hand reached out to brush my fingers. “Can you do that?”

“Enough talking.” Match snapped his club out and drummed the door three times. I looked around while we waited. Behind us were two hulking statues, one of the queen wearing a long dress that billowed out behind her, and next to her was a black panther, sleek and snarling. If I were to guess, I would say the panther was her familiar.

An answering drumbeat echoed from the other side of the doors. Slowly the golden doors swung inward, cutting the dragon in half. The room was coated in gold, from the floor to the walls to the ceilings. Embedded in the gold was every jewel and precious stone I knew and a few I’d only heard of: diamonds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires, amethyst, opals, citrine, malachite, pearls, and so many more scattered about, like they were worth nothing.

The effect was overwhelming, which I was quite sure was the point. Keeping my chin up despite my shoulder, I walked forward with Ash on my left.

In the throne ahead sat the woman from the memory I’d seen. Her likeness to the statue outside the doors was impressive.

Fiametta. Her hair was bound up on her head in a complicated braid that wove in and out of her crown made of rubies held together by thin strands of gold. Simple in its design, it almost disappeared into the deep red of her hair. Her blue eyes didn’t flicker, didn’t give away even a hint of emotion. She was dressed in black Ender leathers, which surprised me. Was that where she’d started her life? Had she been a princess who’d trained with Enders?

Like me?

Where the hell had that thought come from? No matter how much my blood may have been royal, I would never really be a princess.

A variety of people filled chairs around the edges of the room. I saw the crown prince, Flint, with his distinctive black streak running through the middle of his bright red hair. He’d flirted with Belladonna, my older sister, when she’d been here. His eyes roved over me and a slow smile spread on his lips.

Not a chance in hell, I glared at him.

Two other younger children—probably royalty, by the way they glared at us--also had the distinctive black streak through their red hair.

Cactus, my childhood friend and confidant, a half-breed like myself, stood against one wall, watching us come in. His eyes met mine and I thought for a moment he tried to say something to me in that look. Perhaps goodbye.

Fiametta slowly stood, her body moving with a predatory grace not unlike the black panther at her side. Her familiar let out a jaw cracking yawn and stood with her, its blue eyes as unusual as hers narrowing slightly as it took us in.

“Fiametta, these two will be trouble. You should kill them quickly,” the large predator said.

“Be quiet,” Fiametta said. “I did not ask your opinion.”

The panther’s teeth snapped shut and it sat. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was pissed.

For just a moment, I thought I saw a glimmer of pink waver around the queen’s head. I blinked. Ash stepped forward, blocking my view of Fiametta. “Your majesty, there has been a misunderstanding.”

Fiametta let out a long low laugh as she stepped down the final few steps so she was on even ground with us. “Truly? I doubt that very much, Ender.”

“If I could speak with you, I could explain what happened,” he said softly, his blond head bowed in submission. She strode forward, her body lithe and lean, except for her bust, which seemed about ready to pop out of the skintight leathers. Her hand snaked out and she grabbed Ash’s hair at the back of his head jerking his face upright. “Whatever you have to say, do it now, or I will throw you into the Pit and be done with you.”

I couldn’t see his face, couldn’t tell what was going through his mind. Like everyone else in the room, I waited, wondering what the hell he could possibly say that would pull our asses from the fire in the most literal of senses.

Ash slowly spoke, “Your majesty—”

“Cut the worm shit, Ender. Spit out whatever you have to say,” Fiametta said, her voice as cold as the lava flows were hot.

“I am responsible for the four deaths of your Enders. My companion Ender Larkspur did not wield the blade for any of them.”

Before I could open my mouth to deny Ash’s words, Brand slammed his hand over my lips and whispered in my ear. “Don’t make his sacrifice for nothing.”

Fiametta’s eyes slid from Ash to me. “Ender Brand. Let her speak.”

Brand’s one hand found my shoulder again and dug into it. Damn it, how far back had Ash set this up? I thought about him finding me in the forest, how his kiss had felt like a goodbye.

He’d known they were coming for us, and he’d planned this all along. There was no other explanation.

With my mouth clear of Brand’s hand, I took a deep breath, knowing what Brand said was true. If I claimed the deaths as my own, I would damn both Ash and myself to swim in the Pit. But if I were still free, maybe I could find a way out for both of us. A slim chance, but more than we’d had before. “You have to give him a trial.”

Fiametta arched an eyebrow at me. “I have to do no such thing. He is not of royal blood, and there are witnesses who wish to see him pay for his sins.”

Ash slid in front of me again. “No, I confess to it all. You don’t have to bring the witnesses in.”

Brand held me back as Match pulled Ash away from me. “Hold still, girl.”

I didn’t even realize I was struggling until Brand spoke. I tried again to get loose from him. “You can’t do this!”

Fiametta let out a long low laugh. “You believe my Enders’ lives are not worth repercussion? That their lives are worth less than his? I think not, Terraling.” Her eyes blazed. “I lost four Enders. FOUR lives were taken, girl. It is a small penance to pay that he—” she grabbed Ash by the jaw and twisted him around to face me—“pays with his own life. As Enders you are held to higher standards. You of all people should know that. Be glad I do not toss you into the Pit alongside him.”

Horror and guilt flooded me. I was the guilty party and Fiametta was right—there had to be penance for those lives lost. Not by Ash, but by me.

Brand held me and I realized he’d softened his grip on me, steadying me more than holding. “How long?” I whispered the words and for just a moment I thought I saw a flicker of compassion in Fiametta’s eyes.

“Three days. As the sun rises on the third day the lava will be at its hottest peak in nearly three hundred years. Rather fitting for the first execution of an outsider, don’t you think? He will walk into the Pit, or be thrown, if need be,” she said. “And you will be kept in the dungeons. The last thing I need is you causing more trouble.”

Brand cleared his throat. “My queen. I would like to personally offer to watch over her. My wife could use
help
of a big strong girl like the Terraling.”

Help? He was asking to use me as a slave while I was here. Slavery was something strictly forbidden by the mother goddess . . . yet I’d seen the rule circumvented in the Deep too.

Fiametta tipped her head to one side. “Brand, that is a great task. I do not wish to put your family in harm’s way.”

He gave me a light shake. “I’ll throw her in the Pit myself if she puts one foot outside the lines.”

The queen of the Pit smiled softly and pleasure lit her face. “So be it. Let the Terraling work for her time here, and let her watch her companion die.”

Brand tossed me over his shoulder. “Come, my wife needs laundry hand scrubbed.”

His words were so mundane, so simple that they jarred my brain into action.

“No! Ash, don’t do this. ASH!” I hadn’t meant to scream, and yet, I felt like he was being taken from me and if nothing else, I knew he was meant to be in my life.

“Lark. Please trust me.” Was all he was able to say before he was slammed to the ground, his face pressed against the golden floor, his eyes only a shade lighter than the precious metal as he stared at me.

Sick to my stomach, I knew it was my fault he was going to be executed in my place. That was what my father meant when he spoke to Ash. This was his final job, his final duty. To keep me out of the fire. But it was my reckless behavior and decisions that brought us to this point. I had to do something.

Brand packed me out the monstrous double doors, past the statue of Fiametta and her familiar, and to the left of the throne room. We’d only gone a few hundred feet when he put me down. “I’ll take you to the healers.”

I wanted to jerk away from him, pull a weapon and run after Ash. I wanted to break out of the Pit like we’d done before and thumb my nose at them, prove that as earth elementals we were just as strong. Except I couldn’t. I had no weapons and my shoulder was swollen to the size of a small watermelon. Getting my joint back into place was going to be like jamming an elephant into a keyhole. “Why are you doing this?”

Brand put a hand on the back of my neck and shoved me forward. “Move.”

“Tell me what the hell is going on!” I yelled and he slammed me forward, my face and body pressed against the wall, his knee jammed into my lower back.

“So impetuous. I see why he had problems training you.” His mouth dropped to my ear and his whisper was harsh against my skin. “Ash is taking the rap because he couldn’t protect your mother and little brother years ago. He’s paying the penance for their lives, Larkspur. And I’m helping him because he’s my friend and I trust him when he says you are more important than any of us realize.” He eased off me and I slowly turned. His eyes were serious and no longer the lecherous leer he put on before. It had all been an act.

“He said all that?” I put a hand to my head. “Brand, those Enders wanted to kill us. We had to fight or we would have died.”

He nodded, his orange eyes narrowed under lowered brows. “I know. We have a problem in our ranks. Which is the other reason I’m helping you. Come, the first thing is taking care of your arm. Then we can discuss how we’re going to clear out the snakes in our nest.”

Brand waved me ahead of him and I carefully walked where he wanted. The things Brand said swirled in my head and I struggled to think straight around the pain radiating from my shoulder. The rod of Asclepius floated into view. A snake wrapped around a rod embedded into the door: the mark of the healer’s rooms. My vision blurred and the snake seemed to move as I fell under the tightening net of pain that drove deep into my body, and my legs buckled.

lay flat on my back for the second time that day, staring at the ceiling while Smit, one of the Pit’s healers, worked on my arm. He’d helped me before, when Ash and I had broken into the Pit. His hands were gentle as he manipulated my arm. “I’m going to force it back into the joint, and there are no two ways about this. It’s going to hurt.”