Lady Smoke (Ash Princess Trilogy #2)(130)

Of course, that’s exactly what I’m doing.

When I pause in front of the entrance, the others stop as well. They say nothing until I reach out to move the rope.

Blaise’s hand comes down on my arm, pulling it back. His skin is less hot since he surrendered his gems—temporarily again—but it’s still warmer than mine.

“No,” he says, the word a whisper.

“It’s the only way,” I tell him. “You know it as well as I do. You feel it, that disconnect between who you are and the power you possess. Because we don’t control it. Because it controls us.”

“Walking into that mine isn’t going to heal you,” he says. “After all that poison in your system, it could push you over the edge. It could kill you.”

“It could,” I agree, looking at Heron over his shoulder. “But it won’t. It’s the only way to choose this power. It’s the only way to exert some control over it, to understand it. The only way I can be the Queen they need.”

“I’m sorry I left, Theo,” Blaise says, his voice breaking. “I’m sorry I broke my promise, and I swear to you, I’ll never leave your side again. Just don’t do this. Don’t leave me.”

For an instant, I waver. “You went to battle because it’s who you are,” I tell him. “And it was stupid, but you knew it was the right thing for you to do. This is the right thing for me to do.”

Blaise doesn’t answer, but I see the tears welling up in his eyes. I place my hands on his shoulders and roll up onto the tips of my toes to brush my lips against his. For an instant, he’s frozen in shock before I feel him melt against me, his arms tight around my waist like he can anchor me to him and make me stay. But he can’t and I force myself to pull away and look at my other Shadows.

“I don’t know how long I will be in there. If the Kalovaxians return, you’ll leave me and run. All right?”

Heron starts to shake his head but Artemisia nods. “I’ll do what must be done,” she says, every word curt.

I look at Erik. “And when I’m out, we’re going to find a way to rescue S?ren. And I’m going to finish what I started with Cress.”

Erik looks more serious than I’ve ever seen him. “Good luck, Theo,” he says softly.

With a thundering heart, I turn away from them and step into the mine.





SANITY SLIPS INTO AN EPHEMERAL thing, coming and going until I’m not sure which thoughts are sane and which aren’t. I don’t know where I am or what I’m doing here. I hear Cress’s laughter, feel her breath like smoke on the back of my neck, but she is always just out of reach.

It’s my mother who finally finds me, cowering against a cave wall with bloodied hands, my head throbbing with thirst. She looks just as she did a decade ago, down to the violent slash across her throat. I don’t run to her like I always imagined I would. She doesn’t seem to expect me to.

I swallow. My throat is raw, like I’ve been screaming for hours.

“Is this the After?” I ask her.

My mother shakes her head. “Not yet, my love,” she says, holding a hand out to me. “Come, there is much to do.”

I should be relieved to not be dead, but I don’t feel much of anything. I stare at her hand but I don’t take it. “You could have stopped the Kalovaxians,” I say to her.

She doesn’t flinch from the accusation or try to deny it.

“I died the Queen of Peace, and peace died with me,” she says after a moment. “But you are the Queen of Flame and Fury, Theodosia, and you will set their world on fire.”

I take her hand and she leads me deeper into the mine.





Writing a book has a reputation for being a solitary endeavor, but if that were the case, I would only have to thank my laptop, and these acknowledgments would be mercifully short. Alas, much like how it takes a village to raise a child, it takes a squad to publish a book. I have been lucky enough to have the best publishing squad out there.

Thank you to Krista Marino, my brilliant editor, for being my sounding board and cheerleader and for not just making this a better book, but making me a better writer. And to Beverly Horowitz, Barbara Marcus, Monica Jean, and everyone at Delacorte Press for giving me and my books an amazing place to call home.

Thank you to my incredible agents—Laura Biagi, Jennifer Weltz, and John Cusick—for building and nurturing my career and helping to shape it into a dream come true.

Thank you to my publicist, Jillian Vandall Miao, for her tireless support and contagious positive attitude. And to Elizabeth Ward, Kate Keating, Cayla Rasi, Mallory Matney, Janine Perez, Kelly McGauley, Alison Impey, Colleen Fellingham, Tamar Schwartz, Stephanie Moss, and Isaac Stewart for your enthusiasm, dedication, and kindness. And, of course, to everyone else at Random House for bringing this book and this series to life in a way that constantly surpasses my wildest imaginings.

Thank you to my NYC writing squad for all the productivity-amping sprint dates: Patrice Caldwell, Lexi Wangler, Arvin Ahmadi, Zoraida Cordova, Sara Holland, Sarah Smetana, Kamilla Benko, Lauryn Chamberlain, Mark Oshiro, Jeffrey West, Jeremy West, Kheryn Callender, Emily X.R. Pan, Dhonielle Clayton, Blaize Odu, Christina Arreola, MJ Franklin, and Adam Silvera.

Thank you to Kiersten White, E.K. Johnston, Karen McManus, Melissa Albert, Jessica Cluess, Amanda Quain, Julie Daly, Tara Sonin, Samira Ahmed, Shveta Thakrar, Claribel Ortega, Kat Cho, Farrah Penn, and Lauren Spieller for all your friendship and support.