A Shadow Bright and Burning (Kingdom on Fire #1)(102)

“Stay away from me.”

“After careful evaluation, I’ve decided to offer you a place by my side. I want to assign you to my elite service of Familiars.” His voice was soothing, despite his hideous appearance. “I want to train you for great power.”

They said R’hlem kept only a few personal servants. They also said he tore off their skin to make them like him.



“No.” I tried to run, but he blocked me.

“You must accept. You won’t survive this without agreeing to my offer.” He reached out that bloody hand to me.

“Nothing could compel me to join you.” He herded me into a corner of the room. I was trapped.

“The ward has shattered.” He smiled, a particularly hideous sight. “Korozoth has you now, secure inside himself. He can take you back to me this instant. He can leave your city in peace. If you surrender, he will go. If you do not, he will level every building, every home. He will devour as many people as he can stomach, and his appetite is tremendous. His Familiars shall decimate the sorcerers. If you do not surrender, everyone you know will die.” He took me by the neck and choked me. I gasped, tried to pull his arm away. He studied me with his great, lidless eye. “Does that compel you?”

“No.” I got some pleasure out of the look of irritation that crossed his face.

“The city will be gone by morning.”

“They won’t let that happen.” I barely got the words out, wincing as his grip tightened.

“Your sorcerers? A collection of boys playing with wind and rain?” He saw that I wouldn’t give in. “What’s your name, child? Before I end your life, I’d like to know.” He squeezed tighter and tighter, and dark spots exploded in my vision.

I was going to die. Part of me wanted to give in to him, to let it end quickly.



The logical part noted that if R’hlem could touch and harm me, perhaps I could do the same to him.

“What is your name?” he said again. I motioned that I could not speak. He loosened his hold.

I drew a ragged breath and said, “Henrietta Howel.” With a thought, Porridge sprouted a blade. “Goodbye.”

I struck for his heart, but I hit empty air. I was back inside Korozoth, and falling. Screaming, I grabbed for Porridge with both hands. There was an instant where I could feel the stave hurtling just out of my grasp, which would end with my death on the ground. But I snatched Porridge, and the wind returned, buoying me upward.

Why had R’hlem let me go? Perhaps he couldn’t truly kill me in an illusion and had returned me abruptly to Korozoth to let me fall to my death.

Never mind. It was time to put my plan into action. I hung in the void, my breath coming fast. What if this didn’t work?

All I could think of was Rook, Rook striking Magnus when he thought I’d been insulted. Rook sitting with me on the moor, the wind blowing his fair hair, a smile on his face to be out of Brimthorn. Rook leaning toward me in the kitchen, our lips almost touching. Rook lying there, dead. If I failed, his sacrifice would be for nothing.

Moving fast, I un-warded the protective shield about myself. With a sob, I exploded into flame, catching the fog around me on fire. Flames rippled on my skin, whirled about me, and turned scarlet. As I moved within Korozoth, up and down, the fire spread. The beast roared as it transformed into a flaming vortex. I could hear the groaning and whirling of a great wind, and realized with horror that we must be taking off.



The monster returned to the earth with an unceremonious thump. My friends had done it, used the fire to fashion a net and bind him, burning, to the ground.

The flames billowed and rose to such a scorching degree that the world became consumed in brilliant white. I burned so hot that I believed I was beginning to die. I felt Korozoth’s death release and heard the cries of thousands of voices, the ghosts freed at last. When the monster disappeared and the flames vanished, I could see the stars above me.

I dropped headfirst for the ground, too tired to fly. Arms caught me, and Magnus eased us both to the street on a cushion of air. He laid me across his lap and cradled my face.

“Howel? It’s done. He’s dead. He’s actually dead. Sweetheart, it’s done.” He stroked my cheek.

“Where is he?” I croaked. I broke from Magnus’s grasp and crawled to Rook, who lay still on the ground. He wasn’t breathing. “Rook,” I whispered. His image was blurred. The smoke from the fire had damaged my eyes.

“You did it! Howel, you did it! Look, my God, it’s wonderful,” Dee called, his face stained with soot. People began to rush into the square and gape at the ash and embers floating out of the sky, all that remained of Korozoth. I bent my head, clutched Rook against my chest, and cried.





“You’ve saved us, Henrietta.” Fenswick stood on my bedside table and saw to a cut above my eye. The little hobgoblin spoke with affection. “Your queen will be pleased. They tell me she survived.” I winced as Fenswick pressed a stinging, wet cloth to my head. It didn’t much matter, of course. Rook was dead. I wanted to go to sleep and stay asleep.

“The gossip among the servants has it that your queen will want to put the sorcerers more on the front lines now. What a difference that will make.” Fenswick made an irritated sound when I didn’t respond. “There’s no need to lie there like a fish, you know. You’re not that badly hurt.”