Fire Walker Page 9

  “Saeed wasn’t a Rhaesbond—”

  “No, but he’s put the fear of them in every Houseman in the Keep and every father in this city. You faced the mob. I’ll wager my firstborn that’s only the start.”

  Salasar turned to walk away. Mina grabbed his sahn, holding him back. “How long will this last?”

  Salasar looked down at her hand gripping his sahn. “Indefinitely.”

  She released his sahn, hands dropping uselessly by her side. “Then why am I allowed to leave the temple?”

  He straightened his sahn. “Housemen and their families are exempt.”

  “Exempt!” She wanted to laugh. “How is that fair?”

  “The King wants control of this situation, you hear? Housemen aren’t a threat. But these are.” He waved a hand at the men and women cowering on the stone steps.

  “You’re a gods-damn fool. Look at them. They’re no threat. The real threat is out there, running through the streets with torches! Or sitting in Council meetings, drinking wine and stealing the freedoms of innocent people!”

  “Rant all you want, child, but that doesn’t change what’s happening here. Go back to the Keep and tell the King yourself just how gods-damn foolish he is. Wait until I get there so I can see which of your House gets executed for treason first. My bet’s on you.”

  “You’re a Fire Walker, same as I. If the King ordered you to give up your sword, your family, and your House to join the temple, would you?”

  “Willingly. I’m a Houseman, I obey my King.” He returned to his men.

  Leila flitted between groups of Fire Walkers and sent them down to the dormitories below. The night grew late, and with this many returning to the temple, Leila would need to find clothing and food. She no longer had her lackeys to help. Saeed was dead, and Samira remained locked away.

  Alistar caught her eye from across the room, his face a picture of concern. She swallowed the flaming bile in her throat. It was men like him, fools scared of fire, who demanded Fire Walkers be kept out of sight. And it was Housemen like him and Raj who turned a blind eye to their abuse. There were plenty of Housemen with fire in their blood and enough gold to keep their dirty secrets hidden. Especially when they themselves were exempt from the law.

  They hadn’t learned a gods-damn thing. Fear and hatred had driven a pompous Prince to poison his own people in order to root out the Fire Walkers hidden in plain sight, and now it was happening again—not with poison this time, but with an angry mob.

  But she was a Houseman now. She had a voice, where those locked inside the temple did not. And by Rahn, she’d shout it to the skies.

  No one stopped her as she left the temple. Leila gave her a look of disgust, as though this was Mina’s fault, but didn’t say a word. Alistar and Raj jogged after her and kept pace with her furious march back to Bloodstone Keep.

  “Listen, Mina, I heard what’s happening,” Alistar said. “I’ll speak to my House. I’ll ask my father to put pressure on the King.”

  “Will he listen to you?”

  “Yes, if he wants our House to be the bond tying Sandair and Neu Bosa together,” he said with a trace of bitterness.

  Alistar knew about his family’s bargain with the King, then. Would marriage between the two nations be more vital now that the peace talks with Hartnor had failed?

  “I’ll speak to my mother, too,” Raj added. “I’m, um, I’m her only heir. Sitting on the Council is something I’ll have to do, someday. She’ll listen to me. I know it.”

  She wanted to thank them, but the words caught in her throat. Even with their Houses supporting the Fire Walkers, that was only three seats on the Council. It wasn’t enough to convince them, or the King.

  Inside the Keep’s gate, Raj and Alistar turned left to find their families and begin their pleading. Mina marched straight for the palace.

  Burning braziers lined the halls. Each flame she passed increased the warmth in her gut until her embers threatened to burst and create a few flames of their own. How could the King turn his back on them, on his own word, when he possessed blood fire?

  How could everything have fallen apart this easily? The mob was out there attacking people—murdering them—because of one crazed man, and she felt powerless to stop it. She rubbed her burning eyes and swallowed the urge to scream.

  The blood bond warmed and Talin stepped out into the corridor, blocking her path. “If you’re looking for an audience, it’s rather late.”

  “That didn’t stop the King from condemning the Fire Walkers.”

  “Come. We’ll talk.”

  She swallowed her burning rage and followed Talin into the royal gardens, which were quiet except for the chitter of insects.

  “Are you hurt?” Talin said, eyeing the cut on her wrist.

  “It’s nothing.”

  “I sent Iman to look for you once I heard about the mob. I would have come myself, but the King forced me to stay close. I see Salasar found you first.”

  “How do you know Salasar found me?”

  “Because your anger burned through the bond with such strength, I had to sit down and pour myself wine.”

  She bristled at his tone. “I don’t see what’s amusing about it.”

  “No. It’s not good. But charging into the Keep and demanding an audience with the King in your state would lead to the sacking of our House a lot quicker. Let us calm down and discuss it.”

  “What’s there to discuss?”

  “Our plan of action, for one.” They neared the east entrance of the palace, where Talin’s apartment lay. “So calm yourself. I’m not letting you inside until I hear you say it.”

  She scowled but obeyed. She took a deep breath and allow the night’s cool air to soothe her inner embers. “I am the master of my own self.”

  “Good. Now come.”

  The palace corridors were also quiet this night, and the eerie silence chilled her bones. Everything had been so hectic and bustling while the Hartnords were here. The entire world had changed in a single cursed evening.

  She’d been so concerned with the Fire Walkers’ fate, she’d paid little heed to the Hartnord prince or the father he’d so brutally lost. She knew what it was like to lose a father—or at least the man she knew as her father for so many years. Watching him cut down without mercy had fueled her anger and given her purpose. It forged the reason she stood here in this golden palace, the reason she had a family and people to protect. She understood that drive for revenge—and its cost. What would be the cost of Prince Wulfhart’s revenge?

  Talin beckoned her into his room decorated in shades of Arlent’s purple, and he lit lamps to ward off the dark. She sat on his lounger and examined the tear in her sleeve as Talin busied himself pouring wine. The cut stung, but only the shirt would need stitching.

  “Iman warned me young girls burn through their clothes, but I thought she was being facetious.” Talin sighed as he placed two full cups on the table and sat beside her.

  Mina couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. “They were trying to kill Fire Walkers. They—they were so full of hate. How can we go back to that again? How can anyone live like that?” Horror and panic shook through her in equal measure and she struggled to contain the anxiety bubbling in her blood.

  Talin thrust a cup in her hands. “Drink. It’ll help.”

  She took a sip and gasped at the burning alcohol. It was stronger wine than she was used to. Her father’s calm demeanor settled over her like a cloak. How could he remain calm in a time like this? It was a warrior’s calm. A calm vital to surviving even the direst battle.

  And that’s what this was. A battle.

  “Why is the King doing this?”

  “Khaled has to be seen doing something. At least this will buy us some time. I know it’s not fair, but the temple is the safest place for them until the King can decide what to do.”

  “Decide on what? He gave Fire Walkers their freedom—”

 
; “Do you remember what he said during his speech at the Solend? He said we needed to work together to find a balance. He’s not reneging on his promises, but there is pressure from the Council, from the Hartnords, to find that balance quickly.”

  “You mean sanctions. Prod Fire Walkers with tests to prove who is safe and who should be locked up?”

  “Yes, to a degree. But the King listens. Our House will guide him to the correct balance. Iman and I have offered to pass on our methods for keeping the Fire Walkers safe and free within Arlent. None of that involves testing them or locking them up, but training them to correctly channel their power in safe ways. In time, the people will come to understand that our gifts are far less dangerous when embraced rather than suppressed. It’s safer, and healthier, both to ourselves and the people around us. Do you understand? We can work toward restoring Fire Walkers to their rightful place. We can make them respected once more.”

  Arlent as a model for the rest of the kingdom? It sounded too good to be true. “The Council will never allow it.”

  “The Council is split. There are some who believe in the good of Fire Walkers and others who take Prince Ravel’s side. He has the Hartnords’ ear, it seems. Prince Wulfhart demands action. He mourns his father, and rightly so. We will find a balance. But for now, the Fire Walkers must remain where there are, as a precaution. Time will heal this wound.”

  Of course Prince Ravel was using this tragedy to further his own agenda. He didn’t care for Prince Wulfhart—he’d insulted the Hartnord to his face. “What if the Council takes Prince Ravel’s side?”

  “Khaled is still king. If the Council had its way, even Housemen with blood fire would be locked away—Salasar and myself included. But Khaled put his foot down. He said if Housemen were to be locked away, then he’d personally oversee the testing of all members of Houses to ensure all were treated equally. That shut them up.”

  She stared into her cup at the bloodied color. “So, what do we do? Just sit and wait until Prince Wulfhart forgets we murdered his father?”

  “Jonan has volunteered to help investigate those responsible for King Reinhart’s death.”

  The wine churned in her stomach. “What do you mean? It was just Saeed.”

  “We’ve had reports for weeks now that a group of rogue Fire Walkers claiming to be House Rhaesbond have been causing fires. The reports stretch as far as Gaisland and even across the border into Hartnor. Saeed may or may not have been in league with them. We’ll never know.”

  She took another sip of wine to calm her nerves. “House Rhaesbond are long gone.”

  “So Jonan believes. Someone is using their name to stir hatred. If we deal with them, I think the Hartnords and the Council will be appeased.”

  “What about Samira? Does she know anything?”

  “She’s been questioned. Neither she nor Leila are culpable.”

  Mina leaned back against the lounger and cradled her cup. She didn’t believe Leila was completely innocent; her acolytes were too devoted to her, too loyal. “What can I do to help?”

  “If I told you to keep out of trouble and let me handle this, would you?”

  She scowled and he laughed.

  “No, I thought not. The Fire Walkers will need you. These next few weeks will be crucial in winning hearts and minds. Many saw you during the tournament—Housemen and city folk alike—they saw you win, and they saw you burn to protect the Prince.”

  “They also saw me naked.”

  “And they witnessed you receive the King’s blessing. It’s not a burden you asked for, but when the city folk speak of Fire Walkers, they speak of you. I’d like you to keep on showing them what good Fire Walkers can do, and that means keeping out of mobs and not storming the Keep with your temper ready to burst.”

  “You want me to represent the Fire Walkers?”

  “Yes. And… I want you to consider what I’m about to propose next. For our House. And for the Fire Walkers.” Talin’s anxiety rang through the bond.

  “Why do I suddenly want to thump you?”

  He wore an uneasy smile. “It’s Khaled’s idea. He still wishes to marry Aniya to your sorran, to build those bridges between our nations. But he’s suggested that marrying Rais to a Fire Walker would also build bridges. It would show the faith he has in Fire Walkers, and that Rais has overcome his own grievances with them.”

  She gawked at him. “You’re not serious?”

  “Marrying into the House of the Bright Solara would protect us, elevate us, and give us a stronger voice on the Council. I, ah, spoke briefly with Rais. He approves of the match.”

  “Prince Rais wants to marry me?”

  Talin took his cup and swirled it. “You asked how you could help.”

  11

  A PRINCE'S FAVOR

  Marriage.

  Mina stared at the slither of Rahnlight creeping across the ceiling. Marriage. Gods. She’d been outraged the first time Talin had suggested it during the tournament, but that was different—an attempt to keep her safe from Prince Ravel and out of the tournament. This time, it was to protect their House and Arlent from inevitable backlash, and to send a message that the Bright Solara wasn’t afraid of Fire Walkers.

  But her? And Prince Rais? She barely knew him! He seemed an honorable man, willing to stand up to his brother. And he’d trained with Salasar so he wasn’t completely helpless with a sword. He’d even helped protect his father during the Solend.

  He wasn’t unattractive, despite his scars—she had plenty of her own.

  But those amber eyes still haunted her dreams.

  Now she understood how Alistar must feel. The hopes of his entire family—and an entire country—were pinned on his marriage into the Bright Solara. At least Princess Aniya and Prince Rais were noble in their hearts as well as in their blood. Gods help the woman who’d be forced into marrying Prince Ravel. At least he wouldn’t become king with Prince Rais to deny him…

  She sat up on the lounger. Prince Rais could one day become king.

  Which meant she could one day become his queen.

  “I don’t want to be queen!”

  Marriage was one beast, but to become queen? Of all Sandair? Impossible! Surely Talin must realize what marrying a crown prince entailed… but of course he did. If she were queen, she’d have the power to protect the Fire Walkers better than anyone, and no one would question her House’s legitimacy.

  All it would cost is her freedom.

  They’d expect her to give up her sword. They certainly wouldn’t approve of her masculine clothes. She’d never hold Hawk. Never ride Luna. Never dance. And they’d expect her to live in Solus. She’d never see the Duslands again.

  She hugged her chest. This brought back her fear of entering the Temple of Rahn for the first time, only the prison was now made of gold instead of stone.

  “Most girls would give their right arm to be in your position.” Iman sat at the dresser with another stack of scrolls—reports from Arlent—and a half-empty wine glass.

  “Why, so they can let foolish men dictate their entire lives?”

  “Being queen is a position of power and responsibility. You think it’s about lying on your back and pushing out heirs?”

  Mina’s cheeks warmed. Gods, if she married a man, she’d be expected to birth children, too. “That’s all the queen’s good for, isn’t it?”

  Iman put her scroll down and turned to Mina with a raised eyebrow. “Queen Vida sits on the Council and helps run the common court. Certainly, she’s taken some time away whilst carrying a child, but that was conceived out of love, not duty. She takes her role seriously to carry on the work started by the late Princess Aniya.”

  “Who?”

  “The King’s twin sister. It was her death that caused the last war seventeen years ago. And she wouldn’t abide you talking such nonsense. Solaran princesses and queens have more power than you realize. More power than Housemen care for. Aniya, now she was a woman.�
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  “You knew her?”

  Iman swirled her wine glass. “Ah, Aniya was the most beautiful woman in all Sandair. A real princess. All women wanted to be her, and all men wanted to bed her. But she never married, much to her brother’s annoyance—she had enough suitors to fill the Keep. She introduced me to Solus’s famous wines. And she petitioned Khaled for my entry into the Academy, too, and probably would have convinced him in time, had she not passed. It’s thanks to her that the Temple of Lune can support so many women. And it’s thanks to her that each high priestess owns a chair on the Council. You would have liked her. She would have been the first to stand up for the Fire Walkers.” Iman took a gulp from her glass. “Shame she’s gone. She was the only one who could talk sense into the King. She’d be yelling at him now.”

  A flicker of flame caught Mina’s eye. She turned to the lantern on her bedside table. Tira was listening to Iman’s conversation. “How did she die?”

  “She travelled to Hartnor as our ambassador with a peace treaty in hand. She never returned, and her body was never recovered. King Reinhart denied all involvement, but Khaled saw blood and declared war.”

  “She was murdered?”

  “It’s one of those mysteries we’ll never discover the truth of, girl. No point speculating it.”

  Now Mina understood why the King was so uncomfortable with his daughter marrying a Hartnord. “Do you think I should marry Prince Rais?”

  Tira shook her head in the flames.

  “Talin won’t force you, girl. He’d have to go through me first.”

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  Iman emptied her glass and busied herself pouring another. “You’re the daughter of a Houseman, but also a tribe rat that spent too long scrimping in the dirt and swaggering around like a boy. You’re too sharp.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’ll offend half the Council before you reach your wedding night. Talin’s an optimist. He thinks you’ll adapt, but you can’t be dulled, girl. You’ll cut the first man who crosses you, and bleeding nobles aren’t a good look. Boys like Prince Rais—royal boys—they expect women to behave and act a certain way, and then get upset when their wives disobey. Talin believes Prince Rais has the fortitude to put up with you, but Talin has a task on his hands.”