Fireblood (Frostblood Saga #2)(53)
“A convenient ability,” I observed, covering another yawn.
“Indeed, and not just for the animals. Sometimes she healed her younger siblings from cuts and bruises and broken limbs. Sud and Fors were fearless and curious, getting into scrapes and risking themselves for the sheer joy of facing danger… much like someone in this room.”
“You must be talking about yourself. I’m the soul of caution.”
He chuckled. “As they explored the world, they found the broken dolls Eurus had discarded as a child. Together they fixed them and breathed life into them. They grew fascinated by these creatures, whom they called men and women. For a while, the twins worked in harmony to help people in small ways, teaching them how to hunt and cook the meat with fire.”
“Mmm,” I said. My eyes had fallen closed.
Kai stroked my hair—it felt so nice I didn’t bat his hand away—and continued. “But Fors and Sud grew bored of watching people do the same things day after day, and decided to explore. They traveled east and found a young man who looked like them. He said he was their brother, Eurus, and that he was tired of living all alone.”
I shivered and pulled the quilt higher over my shoulder.
“They brought Eurus back to their parents’ dwelling, which was built high in the clouds so that Neb could be close to her first daughter, the Sun.
“‘We have found our brother,’ they said, ‘and we want you to let him come home.’ At first, Tempus refused, but the twins said, ‘Do as we ask, or we will leave and never return.’
“So Neb and Tempus had no choice but to embrace their oldest son. In gratitude, Eurus wove palm fronds into fans and gave them to the twins. Fors used his fan to create the north wind and Sud created the south wind. And Cirrus joined them in a game that tumbled winds across the world and all four siblings laughed in great joy.”
I smiled serenely, imagining myself as a wind god floating on the currents I’d made with my fan.
“But their games had caused havoc over the earth, creating typhoons and hurricanes and tornadoes. Sun looked down upon the people and saw that her siblings had destroyed simple homes and crops they had started to grow, and she shone a light on the destruction. And Cirrus saw what her sister, Sun, was showing her, and she told her other siblings to stop their game.”
“Did they stop?” I asked drowsily. Grandmother had told me this story, but it was so long ago, I didn’t recall the details.
“They did. All but Eurus. ‘Why, those people are nothing but the dolls I broke as a child,’ he said, laughing at their pathetic fragility. And he made wind after rushing wind and laughed as it swept people and animals into clouds of dust, wiping the land clean.
“‘You are cruel,’ said Cirrus, shaking with rage, ‘and you have no regard for life.’
“‘You are foolish and weak,’ said Eurus, ‘and you care too much for small, broken things.’
“‘I am stronger than you,’ she said.
“Eurus said, ‘Then let us see who will win a contest of strength.’”
Kai’s warm hand cupped my shoulder. “Ruby?”
I tried to reply, but I was floating in the clouds. With one more stroke over my hair, his hand left me and I felt the bed move as he stood.
“Good night,” he whispered.
That night, I was back in the Frost King’s castle—in my old room with the heavy curtains, richly upholstered chairs, and the table piled with books in front of a darkened window. The room was lit by a single candle that sat on a table next to the bed. I slid out from under the covers, my feet landing on soft carpet. Strangely, the air was warm—scented with hibiscus and bougainvillea. I paused a moment, breathing in.
A book lay at my feet. As I picked it up, it fell open to a picture of a throne room that looked like one of Sister Pastel’s illuminations at the abbey, painted with charcoal and scarlet and tints of cerulean blue. The throne was mostly black, with veins of red and vermilion running through it, and icy pillars all around. The walls were a mix of stone and crackling frost. A sapphire ring glinted on one armrest of the throne, while a ruby ring glinted on the other.
I closed the book and put it on the bed before leaving my room, breathing softly as I wandered the empty hallways.
“This way,” a voice whispered. I followed it, my hands brushing the walls. Suddenly, I was no longer in the king’s castle, but the queen’s, the walls of black stone. I found myself at a set of double doors opening into a cavern with black pillars and sputtering torches, a throne in the center casting a dull red glow. I could feel its heat pressing against me, beckoning and warning, hinting at a power that could not be fully contained.
The fire throne.
It was so beautiful. Sud had created this, and I could feel the goddess’s own heat searing the air. Hot bubbling lines of molten lava ran continuously through the black stone, small air bubbles forming and bursting, each tiny vein glowing. Could even a Fireblood bear to sit on that relentless heat?
It was hard to see the full shape of the throne in this light, but it looked somewhat irregular, the two armrests slightly uneven. I stepped closer and reached out, placing my hand on one arm. There was a long, breathy sigh.
My hand slid farther up the surface of the rock—it was hot, but not unbearable. My whole body warmed. I moved closer until my legs brushed the throne’s base. Heat traveled up to my belly and into my chest, through my arms, and out my fingers, back into the throne. It felt as if I were part of it, drawing from its energy source and giving back in equal measure.