Chapter Five

CHAPTER

FIVE

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G ODLY CULTS TRAVEL BY THE PHASES OF THE MOON TO avoid interacting with one another. There's bad blood between them considering their rivalries reflect grudges between the gods. They've been asleep for the past five hundred years, so I'm not sure what the rituals performed are supposed to accomplish.

"Where do you want to meet before we travel to Vareveth?" I begin, wanting to get this out of the way before we arrive. "I assume we'll be traveling into your kingdom together, considering I would have to pass through Feynadra or Urasos."

"I'll escort you directly from Aestilian with several of my best soldiers," he states as if it's obvious.

"No."

"No?" he questions incredulously.

"You're not coming to Aestilian."

"Elowen," he starts while pinching the bridge of his nose. The sound of my name on his lips—I can't tell if it feels like he's spoken it hundreds of times or a handful. "I vowed to protect you, and that includes your people."

"A vow forged from convenience is the first kind to be broken when it becomes inconvenient."

He grinds his teeth and grips the reins tighter. "Will you at least tell me where it is?"

"Not a chance," I state. He rubs a hand over his sharp jawline and looks like he wants to challenge me but doesn't.

"Do you know where the temple ruins for the God of Earth are?" he asks. Knowing where the temples are is vital to surviving a night in the Terrwyn or Sweven Forest. I nod in confirmation. "My soldiers and I will meet you there."

It's close to Aestilian. It's also the temple nearest to the tavern where we met. Which means it'll be a relatively short ride. I want to argue with him to choose a temple farther away but don't want to raise suspicion.

This is likely the first of many battles between our clashing personalities and priorities.

"Fine," I concede. "You said you want to be in Vareveth within the week?"

"I'll move my soldiers once I return tonight, but if you're not there by the end of the week I'll find you. My soldiers will serve as your guards while you're in Vareveth, and anywhere else we go, so you don't have to trouble yourself with assembling your own." His eyes rest heavily on my profile, and I twist my head to meet his gaze.

The relief I feel is locked away, far from any emotion he can gauge from me. Leaving Aestilian is something I want, but I won't assume anyone else wants to ride headfirst into war and political conflict. The only one I can guarantee is Finnian and probably Ailliard. Ailliard will be annoyed, but I doubt he'll stay in Aestilian if I'm not there. He'll be an awful grump, but I'll need him to attend political meetings.

Still, I ask, "Why should I trust that your soldiers will protect me?"

"Because I will personally punish those who defy my orders." He gives me a pointed look that translates to Nobody wants to be on the receiving end of my wrath. "You're the only person preventing my army being burned alive if the dragons are unleashed, and I have no intention of dying before I see this war through." A scowl mars his face, and he looks like a man hell-bent on revenge.

I tear my eyes away and face forward again. A slight tremor travels through my hands—the image of his contained rage is burned into my brain. Maybe we can find some common ground considering we hate the same person. But even imagining finding common ground with Cayden feels like stepping into complete darkness, unaware of where I'm supposed to be going.

"I won't enter Vareveth before signing a formal agreement. I know the alliance papers can't be drawn up on such short notice, but I want our vows written and signed with witnesses." The sound of drums floats our way beyond the stretch of my vision. Leather slides against leather as we drop to the forest floor beside each other. I jump back when his arm brushes against mine. Physical touch is something I like to see coming if I'm in the mood for it, but I'm shocked when he also quickly takes a step away.

Another unacknowledged truce.

"My word is as good as a blood oath, but I'll give you your fancy paper and signatures if that's what you wish, princess. "

I laugh and cross my arms over my chest. "I would be a fool to take your word at face value. You either prove it to me, or I'm out."

"You're out?"

"I've lived as a ghost for fifteen years. I can easily slip back into the shadows. You'll never hear of me or see me again."

"As I told you before, I will find you in any corner of this world." He takes a step forward, eyes blazing with unrelenting promise and challenge.

"Don't let it come to pass, and you'll never have to fail." I tilt my chin up, not backing down. "Are you always this arrogant?"

"Are you always this demanding?" He chuckles. "You won't back out."

"Your presence is quite insufferable." We're a breath away from being chest to chest. "That's enough motivation to pursue other options."

"And you're as sweet as sugar." He shakes his head. "You want revenge just as badly as I do, and I'm the only person willing to help you liberate your dragons."

I force my lip not to curl at the mention of his aid. I'd rather suffer in silence than ask for assistance. It makes me feel like a burden, but with Cayden, it makes me feel inadequate. "You may be the only person who can help me, but I'm also the only person who can help you."

"You're not the only person who can help me. " He bites out the last two words. "You're the only one who's worth it."

His words steal whatever retort I mentally prepared and make me acutely aware of how close he is. I fight the urge to step away and stay rooted in place, not wanting to be the one to retreat. Our breaths mingle with the war drums, and he takes a slow step back after several prolonged seconds but keeps his eyes on me.

"Is there a reason why you don't book shop like an ordinary individual, or does stealing from a cult enrich the story?"

I roll my eyes. "Feel free to stop speaking whenever you wish, considering I have no urge to answer any questions you ask."

"Right," he says, returning to silence until he stops short. "Did you see that?"

"See what?" I scan our surroundings before realizing the mistake I made and leave him snickering in my wake. "The book I need is in the tent belonging to the high priestess, and let's try not to kill anyone."

"Do you have any other issues, Your Majesty?"

I give him a cutting stare. "The only issue coming to mind is you."

"Being in the thoughts of the lost princess is an honor."

Tattered tents peek between the trees as we make our way to the edge of the camp, and flickers from a large bonfire illuminate the area. Fifty people, maybe more, surround the flames in large circles.

I sink to my knees and peer through a bush beside him. "Murderous, blood-drenched thoughts."

"Even better."

The high priestess stands at the center, closest to the fire, and chants a prayer while holding a chalice above her head. Her red robes swallow her frame, and she splashes a shimmering powder into the flames that sends them soaring. She bows and turns her palms to the sky as the scent of lemongrass is carried by the wind.

"Goddess, hear us!" she shouts as embers crackle at the base of the fire. I lean farther into the bush, eager to see what's happening.

I jolt back when a blinding orange light shoots up and smack a hand over my mouth to muffle a shriek. Something is forming in the flames—the powder must be made of magic. The priestess raises her voice in a powerful scream, and the rest of the cult sits back on their heels, eyes drawn to the sky. Another flame shoots up, followed by twenty others, all morphing into tiny dragons. Their fire-filled bodies flap around the bonfire, circling high over the prayer circle. It's a trick many merchants sell, along with all kinds of creature-conjuring spells. It has nothing to do with my dragons, but it's mesmerizing.

"That tent has the triple flame symbol," Cayden says. "We should move quickly."

I force my eyes away and move along the shadowed tree line until we're directly behind the cluster of tents. It's unorganized, but there's really no need for order when the cult constantly moves. We surge forward with steps so light I can't even hear them against the grass. I press my back into the first tent, and the reality of what I'm doing finally sets in. I press my lips together, so I don't crack at the absurdity of this night. Cayden gestures for me to follow after he's sure the coast is clear. We keep this pattern, each of us taking turns to listen before advancing farther into the camp.

We come upon the back of the priestess's tent and slip inside after Cayden peeks through the flaps. It's darker than I anticipated and only lit by a few candles. A floor bed topped with linen and wool blankets rests at the tent's center. That's the only piece of furniture besides the prayer table by the entrance and a few trunks strewn throughout the area.

"Keep watch," I command while hurrying over to the display. I remember the title from the day I spied on a traveler through the floorboards of a tavern: The Flames of the Dragon. She waxed poetic about the vivid depictions of the creatures, and I'm hoping to find a likeness to one of mine. The drawings may all be from the artist's imagination, but I can't stop myself from trying. I'd recognize their scales anywhere, and I need to see them, even if it's through a portrait.

But my desperation is too embarrassing to tell Cayden.

The book on the prayer table isn't correct, so I kneel by the trunks, picking the first lock and swinging it open only to find scarves and winterwear. I'm luckier with the second and hook my finger into the spine and place it beside me to lock the trunks again, but Cayden is behind me, ushering me to my feet.

He tucks the book safely under his arm and keeps us moving toward the exit. "Glad you got your bedtime tale, but the ritual is over."

We sprint into the night and the crisp air burns my throat as we cut sharp corners and make our way to the safety the darkness provides. But Cayden flies past me, not realizing I've stopped in my tracks.

"Elowen Atarah." The wind whispers my name.

"What are you doing?" Cayden growls while taking a few steps closer, drawing his sword, and staring beyond me.

" Queen of Flames. " The same cool voice drifts my way, and I know Cayden hears it when his head snaps in my direction. The cult members stand by their tents with their heads bowed and the high priestess walks before them. My senses tell me to turn around and bolt, but my mind forces me to stay in place.

"If any of you touch her, you die," Cayden declares while stretching his broadsword before me, "and I promise to make it painful." I'm taken aback by the defensiveness of his tone. I unsheathe my knives again, sharpening my senses and zoning in on my targets as I always do before a fight.

"We won't harm her." The high priestess continues her slow procession to close the distance between us. Her hood covers her face, so I'm unable to view her features. "I saw you in the fire."

"She saw us stealing a book in the fire?" I ask from the corner of my mouth.

"Top-tier security," he mutters back. I may not be a believer, but something about a high priestess watching me steal something through a vision seems sacrilegious.

"The dragon queen reborn from the ashes. I have waited a long time to meet you," she says while reaching into her pocket. Cayden shifts closer, angling his body in a more defensive position.

The high priestess holds up an amulet on a gold chain; it's beautiful. A diamond-shaped ruby dangles at the bottom with gold branches jutting out and tangling together, making an even larger diamond shape. "Hold out your hand," she instructs.

"I couldn't," I say, feeling guilty for stealing a book from her. The crowd standing along the edge of the camp is also unnerving, but at least their hoods are back. Seeing actual human faces makes the situation slightly less eerie.

"It was made for you." She takes another step closer. I sheathe a dagger and lower Cayden's sword. He complies but keeps it at the ready should anything change. "It is vital."

"Vital in what way?" I reach out, and she gently sets the amulet in my palm.

"When you're ready, you'll be able to put it on. Let it guide you," she answers. I wait for her to continue, but she doesn't.

I scrunch my brows and waver uneasily on my feet. "What if I put it on before I'm . . . ready?"

"The fire your soul was forged in will reclaim you, and to dust you shall return."

Oh, just death. Why would it be anything less than that? The amulet feels heavy in my hand. Cayden reaches over to take it from me, safely tucking it into his pocket.

"Thank you for the death jewelry, but we really must be on our way," Cayden states, guiding my stunned body away from the high priestess.

My steps crunch the twigs and leaves as we finally cross the tree line. Over my shoulder, I hear her say, "Make them fear the flames of a queen." She pauses for a moment. "We will meet again, Queen of Fire."

I step away from Cayden and tuck my arms around me as we walk farther from the camp. The more distance we put between ourselves and the priestess, the better I feel.

"Maybe she'll give me a soul-burning ring next time. I'd really like to wear a matching set when I meet my maker," I remark.

Cayden chuckles. "I'll keep the amulet."

"You're using the death jewelry as collateral? The reaper rock? Oh!" I clap my hands together. "The assassination amulet!"

Cayden blinks slowly and runs a hand over his face and through his hair, but not before I see the corners of his lips turn upward. "I'm taking the assassination amulet because I don't want to scour the continent for you and find a pile of ashes." He steps forward to hand me the book and I don't argue. "You truly won't let me escort you home?"

"No, but if you need something to occupy your time feel free to remove your boots and kick rocks." I swing myself onto my horse. "Careful, soldier. You're glaring at me as if you'll miss me."

"Don't hold your breath," Cayden calls out behind me. I don't turn around, just raise my middle finger high enough for him to see.