The Fire Queen (The Hundredth Queen #2)(40)

I push my powers into my fingers. They cast a pale glow, uncovering walls strangled by vines and an uneven rocky floor buckled with tree roots. After getting up, I wrench a dry root free. I cup the top of the wood and shove my powers into it. A small flame sparks. I blow on the flame, and my breath caresses the new embers into a blaze.

The torchlight brightens the caved-in entry. The rock pile is too high and packed thick, well within the doorframe. I have to find another way out.

Extending the torch in front of me, I hazard my way into the ruins. The floor slopes, leading me into the trenches. Every few steps I pause and listen for sounds above my thumping heart. Water drips nearby, but the rowdy jungle noises are absent. The corridor breaks off into dark doorways. I choose the path in front of me over and over again, maintaining a line. I lose track of time, but at least an hour, maybe two, passes before I enter a large room.

Torchlight opens up the area, which has not seen sunlight in a long while. Moss blankets the floor, and fungus sprouts from rotten branches. The ceiling is so high I cannot see it beyond the circle of light.

The hairs on my bare arms bristle as I cross the cold room to a wall mural. The land-goddess stares out at me. A gigantic dragon cobra swathes her strong shoulders. Ki is magnificent, nearly the whole height of the great chamber.

The mural continues, transitioning from thriving jungle foliage to a scene at a mountaintop. Jagged peaks with snowy tips and gray rock fill my sight. The depiction of the Alpanas—home—chokes me with longing. On the top of the summit, perched like a bird of prey, is a blue-black snakelike monster. Below it, legions of warriors shoot arrows at the beast. The great serpent blows fire into their ranks, burning them to ashy silhouettes. The mural is lifelike, and as an artist I admire the painted detail. I close in on the sinister serpent, the First-Ever Dragon. The demon Kur is rarely depicted in portraits, but I remember once seeing a sketch of his blue-black scaly form.

Deep breathing rings out behind me.

I spin around. “Who’s there?”

The echo of my voice answers, and then silence, broken only by my drumming pulse.

Turning my back to the wall, I cross carefully to the center of the room. Four stairs lead me up a dais. The circle of my torchlight brushes against the base of a throne. I approach the old stone chair, bringing the light nearer. The back of the seat is fashioned into the head of a dragon with its jaw open, poised to devour its occupant. The rest of the dragon’s serpentine body winds around the heavy feet. This was Ki’s throne. I can imagine her ruling from here, deep in the heart of the jungle she dominates. But why does a dragon decorate her place of power?

Ki’s throne room is belowground, where her territory meets the demon Kur’s. Perhaps Ki came here to visit Kur, and the story of their being lovers is true. I cannot think of another reason why she would rule from a throne shaped into the symbol of a demon.

Breathing sounds again, closer.

I thrust the torchlight out in front of me. “Show yourself,” I demand shakily.

The air stirs behind me. Nothing emerges from the blackness, but the hairs on my body rise. Something lurks in the dark. In the Void.

In front of me, behind the throne, two blue eyes blaze. I cannot see what they belong to, but they smolder with a fire that is strange to mankind. They are more darkness than light, like what remains after a star collapses.

The rank marks on the backs of my hands burn. Wincing in pain, I nearly drop the torch, but I maintain my grip on the light. Whatever creature dwells in this shadowed lair burned me—and it is not of this world.

I force my knees to bend and my feet to move. I back up and follow the wall around the chamber. All the while, the blazing blue eyes watch me. Behind the dais, a doorway leads to an antechamber. I crest the threshold and run. My footfalls resound off the walls and come back to me, as though I am being chased. I push myself faster. The antechamber empties into a corridor. Then another. The hallways weave endlessly, and soon the floor inclines. I climb into warmer air and pause for a breath. I see no signs of the soulless creature following me, but I press on.

Before long, exhaustion drags my pace, and my torch burns low, near to extinguishing. No, don’t go out. I will never find my way out of here without light. I scan the ground with the dying torch to find its replacement and see dead roots near a short alcove. I crouch over the roots and wrench on the loose wood.

Something hisses.

I freeze with my arm outstretched. A black snake lifts its head level to my face and spreads its neck ribs into a flat, wide hood. I recognize the viper’s diamond markings from the popular depiction of Ki. A dragon cobra.

The torchlight goes out.

Gods above.

Another hiss pierces my chest. Darkness conceals the cobra, but it is near. I slowly pull back my arm. Resting both palms on the ground, I brighten my fingers to a glow. In the dimness, I distinguish the shape of the serpent before me, coiled to strike. I dare not reach for my dagger while in its striking distance.

Ever so slowly, I shift my body weight from my arms to my knees. The dragon cobra stands higher and waits for me to move again. For an excuse to strike. Venom hides in its fangs. Another sort of danger hides inside me.

I push more light into my hands planted on the ground. The dirt around them smokes, and the cobra recoils from the awful burning smell. I quickly grab the snake behind the head. The viper’s jaws unhinge, opening to bite, and its body whips against my arm. I scorch its neck, pushing in the full heat of my powers. Its leathery skin around my hand turns dry, and the cobra’s body slackens. I drop it and withhold my inner light. Shadows sink through the world.