Fireblood (Frostblood Saga #2)(99)
“You’ll do as you’re told,” Marella said, spraying my bent back with a barrage of ice arrows that cut through the robe and silk tunic. Hot blood welled in the gashes and spilled down my back. “You will cooperate in every way or be gutted like a fish, and I will find some other willing host for the fire Minax. Do you understand?”
“Not sure that Eurus agrees I’m expendable,” I replied, snapping out a whip of flame that caught her around the neck before hissing away.
She gasped and clutched her throat. “I’ll kill you.”
“Try.” I stood and snapped at her with another fire whip that made her stumble back. The Minax reveled in the fight, pushing my conscious thoughts to the fuzzy edges. Elation coursed through me in blissful waves. I could hear Eurus and Arcus brawling several yards away, but my interest in the outcome faded. The scene lost color. Torches flickered white instead of orange. The lava from the melted throne flowed in light gray ribbons toward the corners of the room. I could see Marella’s heart in her chest, a white pulse of energy that begged to be targeted.
“I can see your heart, too, Ruby,” she said with a flare of cold purpose in her eyes. “And I can read your every thought. The Minax is in control, which means you aren’t.”
Imitating my previous move, she lashed me with an icy whip. I spun to avoid the brunt of it, and it shattered against my shoulder. “My gift is stronger now,” she said, loosing a current of frigid air filled with stinging needles of ice. Several landed on my cheek, slicing the skin.
“So is mine,” I replied with arrows of fire.
She blocked, batting them down with her forearms. “But you’re tired. You’re not yourself.”
She was right. I was something far, far more dangerous. I wasn’t the girl I’d been a year ago: Ruby, the helpless Fireblood peasant, victim of the Frost King’s soldiers. I was Princess Ruby, heir to the Sudesian throne, Nightblood daughter of a twisted and bloodthirsty god. Nothing could or would stop me.
My chest expanded with a surge of fire, the Minax’s possession refilling the well of heat I’d depleted. My mind sharpened, sped up, everything laid out in excruciating detail. I could use the one gift that only the queen and I had. The power to control lava.
Reaching deep for a final burst of energy, I called up the lava from the corners of the room, the bubbling remains of the throne, and I drew the strands together, pulling the gathered mass of liquid up behind Marella in a wave. The heat was blistering. The lava unstoppable. Killing her would be the easiest thing I’d ever done.
My hands hovered, ready to bring molten death down on her. Time stilled.
Images flashed.
The arena.
Gravnach—the Frostblood champion who’d regularly engaged in torture before he killed his opponents. First, an image of him sawing at my little finger as I screamed, then him convulsing on the ground, his blue blood leaking from his mouth.
Captain Drake, his blade poised over me. Then his lifeless body. His wife and daughter watching.
Rasmus, murderous, trying to suffocate me with his ice in his throne room. Then a later version of Rasmus, his eyes wide with surprise as the Minax filled him one last time, using up the last of his energy, severing the connection between spirit and body.
Arcus facing me in the arena as Kane, when I’d almost killed him. Arcus in the Frost King’s throne room, shaking in my arms as I held him, muttering his brother’s name.
Kai shoving me against the brick wall of the alley outside the tavern, demanding to know why I’d almost killed a man for no reason. The school courtyard. Kai holding me gently, telling me not to fight my emotions.
Then I saw Sage, clear as if she stood in front of me, her gold eyes burning into mine, beaming a message straight into my mind. Not her.
And somehow, I immediately understood. I was fighting the wrong opponent. This wasn’t the arena. Marella was not my enemy. If I killed her, I would have lost myself to the Minax. And I would never, never fully come back from that.
Be, Sage said. Be you.
Clarity was instant and cataclysmic. I was Eurus’s creation. The Minax had known it almost from the time I’d first seen the frost throne. It had recognized a kindred spirit and known I belonged with it. I was a Nightblood.
I was also a Fireblood. Kai had tried to explain that I fought my emotions too much, that my internal struggle diminished my power. My fear of losing control held me back from realizing my full potential.
I had to trust that some basic part of me was good, and let myself be fully Nightblood, fully Fireblood—just for this moment—both merciless and passionate, and know that my mother’s love had provided a foundation that would never let me stray too far from my true self.
I threw the lava back, watching the bright glow of it slosh against the wall, making sure it settled once again.
Then I focused on the Minax inside of me, concentrating on my connection to it, letting it merge with me, putting up no resistance. When my mind synced completely with its darkness, I expelled it from my body with the force of my will. Pain cleaved my head and I lost my vision, but I didn’t allow myself to lose focus.
For a moment, both Minax seemed startled. I knew everything they felt and heard their every thought. They had longed to be together for an eternity, trapped and separated from each other and from their kind. But they were used to being in control, not being controlled.