Fireblood (Frostblood Saga #2)(9)
He reached out and took my hand, turning it palm up so my wrist, with its fat, red vein, was on display. The vein at Brother Thistle’s wrist was equally thick, only blue. The sure sign of the Fireblood or Frostblood gift.
“You show no signs of possession,” he said. “Your veins have not changed to black, nor do you display a desire for blood or chaos.”
He said it gently, aware the trauma was still fresh. In the king’s arena, the rules of the games had forced me to kill, but the Minax’s influence had made me enjoy taking lives. I remembered with ringing clarity what it felt like—the ecstasy, the lack of fear or remorse, the temptation to let the Minax inhabit me permanently. I almost hadn’t been able to resist.
“No more than usual,” I agreed drily. “Although I have fantasized about setting Lady Blanding on fire.”
He waved a hand. “Everyone has fantasized about setting Lady Blanding on fire.”
That drew an unwilling smile.
“I did, however, find one text that suggested a way to”—he picked up a book on his left, offering it to me—“destroy the Minax.”
I immediately opened the book and shoved it onto the table to read. In my haste, I knocked a round glass paperweight onto the rug.
Brother Thistle flashed me an irritated look and bent to pick up the paperweight, a momentary lapse in his self-control causing the glass to fog with a layer of frost. “One of the prophecies of Dru suggests that, aside from their creator Eurus, only a Minax can destroy another Minax.”
Excitement sparked through my veins. This was the breakthrough we needed!
“The only other Minax that hasn’t been sealed behind the Gate of Light is in the fire throne in Sudesia. So”—I paused as the pieces fit themselves together in my mind—“we have to go there.”
“It is not that easy to travel to Sudesia. The kingdom is a labyrinth of rocky islands and narrow channels that only experienced sailors could hope to navigate. We simply don’t have that knowledge after so many years without trade between our kingdoms. And the Strait of Acodens, which is the most straightforward and safest way there, is guarded by Fireblood masters.”
“Well, aren’t there maps? Nautical charts that show a less conspicuous route?”
“Perhaps. If they survived King Rasmus’s purging of Sudesian writings from his library. Which I haven’t found evidence of yet.”
Frustration ate away at my already thin patience. “You can believe in a hundred moldering prophecies, but you can’t conceive of us finding a way to sail to another kingdom? How hard could it be?”
“Will you instruct me on sea travel now, Miss Otrera?” His patience was clearly starting to wear, too. “You have never even set foot on a ship.”
“Well, we can’t just throw up our hands and do nothing. The Minax promised to come back for me, and I don’t know… I don’t know if I can fight it off a second time.”
A tense silence followed. He knew better than to offer me false reassurance. I made sure my voice was steady before speaking again. “Arcus sent an invitation to the Fire Queen. We can ask for her help.”
Brother Thistle looked up in surprise. “I am amazed he would think of mending ties with Sudesia.” He shook his head. “Sudesians are not known for their forgiving natures. Much as you won’t want to hear it, he likely sent that messenger ship to its destruction. She would never agree. It was a gesture. No more.” He fussed with the items on the table—the paperweight, a quill, a strip of linen that marked his place in a book. “Even if we could safely travel to Sudesia, what would you do? Melt the throne in order to free the fire Minax? The prophecy says that the Child of Light will melt a cursed throne, and it made sense to me that a Fireblood was necessary for that task. But… the prophecy does not mention both thrones. We do not know if you are powerful enough to melt the fire throne.”
Brother Thistle believed prophecies about a Child of Light who would stop the release of the Minax from where they were trapped underground. He was convinced I was that illustrious but unlikely person.
There was also a Child of Darkness, one who would try to release the Minax rather than prevent it. If Brother Thistle had theories about who that was, he hadn’t shared them with me.
“Another issue,” I couldn’t resist adding, “is the small fact that I’m not the Child of Light.”
He waved the protest away, as he’d heard it so many times. “The fire throne is made of lava rock. The temperature required to melt such a thing would be… inconceivable. Only a Fireblood master could hope to try, and you are far from a master.”
“Thank you,” I said, dry as Safran desert to cover the fact that the comment stung. I’d been learning to control my gift for months, but I knew I was far from a master. And I had no one to teach me any more than what Brother Thistle already had by adapting his Frostblood techniques to my fire. I longed to find out what I could achieve if given the proper training.
“But aside from that,” he continued, “it took an opposing force to destroy the frost throne. Perhaps it would take a Frostblood to destroy the fire throne.”
The solution to that seemed obvious. “Then we bring you and Arcus to Sudesia.”
“How do you think the queen would receive us after King Rasmus massacred all the Firebloods in Tempesia? As far as she is concerned, they were still her people, and we are the enemy. Furthermore, what would we do if the fire throne were destroyed?” Brother Thistle asked. “The fire Minax would be released and Sudesia would be at its mercy, just as Tempesia is at the frost Minax’s mercy.”