A Promise of Fire (11 page)

The creature circles me, closing in. I spin in the water, its long, sinewy body creating an eddy that whips me around. Red, serpentine eyes with tall, narrow pupils study me, unblinking. There’s a nudge in my head, insistent. My instincts scream to shield myself, but I can’t. Not now. Gritting my teeth, I force myself open and bare my mind to the Oracle’s scrutiny. It filters through my thoughts and memories. My dark deeds. My sacrifices. My fears.

The long look it gives me reminds me of the Lake Oracle, taking its time to decide if I’m worthy. After what feels like an eternity, a forked tongue snakes out and licks my cheek. It’s smooth and icy and leaves a trail of numbness across my face. I shiver, hoping I taste like mercy instead of dinner.

Giant reptilian jaws unhinge and open wide, revealing two enormous fangs dripping seawater, saliva, and venom. The Oracle’s breath stinks like the bowels of the Underworld. My heart sinks, and I cringe. It’s going to swallow me whole. I squeeze my eyes shut and wait for the inevitable. It was arrogant and stupid to call on Poseidon like this. I’m surprised the Gods even let me live this long, knowing what I’m destined to destroy.

“Taaaakkkke,” the creature hisses.

My eyes fly open. I gape at the huge head swaying above me, razor-tipped fangs only a foot from my face, a pink, slippery gullet pulsing behind them.

Have I cheated death again?
Hades must be allergic to me.

My heart hammering, dizzy from spiraling, I hesitate only a second before reaching up and grabbing a curved fang in each hand. They come loose with a soft, sucking pop.

Stunned by the magnitude of the gift, I start stammering my gratitude, but the Oracle whips the water into a frenzy, circling so fast that its huge body becomes a blur. The foaming ocean surges, roaring in my ears and pelting my skin. Water crashes over me, muffling my scream as the funnel drags me deeper into its narrow abyss. My stomach heaves again seconds before the world goes airless and black, and the whirlpool sucks me under.

I land hard on my hands and knees, hacking briny water out of the back of my throat. The ocean is gone. The storm raging in my ears is replaced by the jarring, metallic clang of battle. Soaked through, I stare at the venomous fangs heavy in each fist.
I’m alive!

Adrenaline hits me like a lightning bolt and snaps me into action. I stand, face Otis’s cage, and then smash through the fiery prison with one punch. My skin blisters to the elbow in a flash of searing pain before healing as my body claims the magic again.

Otis stares at me, wide-eyed, his mouth gaping.

“And this is for Eleni!” I plunge a fang into Otis’s heart.

His face turns ashen. “You’re worse than the rest of us.” His voice is a death croak. “That makes two.”

My eyes narrow.
Kill or be killed. Wouldn’t Mother be proud?

The light drains from his eyes. Green eyes. Fisan eyes.

I pull the fang from his chest. It comes free with another soft, sucking pop as he slumps to the ground.

I plunge into the battle, and a rhythm takes me, a rhythm driven by Poseidon, his Oracle, and the fangs. Strike, duck, whirl, kick, lunge, roll. Strike!

Beta Sinta and the others fight their way toward me. Sometimes, in the heat of battle, it’s hard to distinguish friend from foe. I have no trouble with that today. Beta Sinta reaches me, and the moment we end up back to back, I don’t worry about what’s coming from my blind side anymore.

I lunge forward, slicing a fang across a Fisan’s chest. Flynn’s ax whistles over my head while I’m still ducked down, and there’s a spray of blood. I straighten and keep fighting, using the fangs like daggers. They’re sharp and poisonous, but I don’t have much reach, and both my enemies and their swords come alarmingly close.

Someone hammers a kick into the side of my knee, and I gasp, buckling. From the ground, I see Carver and Kato furiously working their way through a tangle of men. Beta Sinta snarls something and gets in front of an enormous Fisan who springs at me from the left. He blocks a bone-jarring hit that would have cleaved me in two, but the blow is hard enough to knock Beta Sinta’s sword from his hands.

His eyes widen. Mine do, too.

The Fisan’s face twists in triumph. I pivot on my hip and whip a fang up, throwing it like a knife. It sticks in his eye. Before the man falls, Beta Sinta grabs the fang from the Fisan’s face and then backhands it into the chest of an enemy I didn’t even see coming at me from behind.

He just saved me. Twice.

“Get up!” Beta Sinta snaps.

I lurch to my feet, my knee aching. Our backs touch again, and we circle, each with a fang gripped tightly in one fist. But it’s over. Flynn rips his ax from a crushed chest. Carver wipes his sword clean on someone’s blue tunic. There’s no one left to kill. Between Beta Sinta’s men and us, we’ve won. They’re all dead. Fisans lie at our feet, and I’m slippery with their blood.

I blink and recognize some of the dead.

I blink again and try to forget them.

Kill or be killed.

The fangs melt from our hands with a barely audible hiss, fading into nothingness. Poseidon’s power seeps from me as well, leaving me limp and drained. Panting, I double over, bracing my hands on my thighs.

Kato groans and slumps against Carver, his face turning pallid now that the blood rush of battle is draining from it. Flynn’s left arm is broken and needs to be set. Beta Sinta is dripping blood, but it’s not gushing from anywhere vital, and a lot of it isn’t even his.

I catch my breath, letting it sink in that I haven’t lost anyone. I’m amazed—and far too relieved for my own good.

I stagger upright. “That was fun.”

Sort of.

Not really.

They look at me like I’m a lunatic.

Maybe I am. “Days ago I said we should get out of here and hide!”

Flynn recovers first. “Who needs to run when you’ve got magic fangs? And fire cages.” He waves his good arm in circles, imitating me, I guess.

Beta Sinta grabs my shoulders and glares at me. He looks like he’s about to explode. He might want to shake me. Or kiss me again. I can’t tell. Given the choice, I’d rather a good shake.
Definitely
, a good shake.

“When I tell you to run, you run!”

I roll my eyes, and he shakes me so hard my teeth clack together.

“If I’d run, you’d all be dead.”

“That’s beside the point!” he bellows.

“That
is
the point!”

His fingers dig into my shoulders. Growling a curse, he lets go and drags his bloody hands through his hair, slicking it back. “How?”

“How what?”

His eyes flash. A muscle bulges in his jaw. “How in the name of the Gods did you get magic fangs?” He flings a hand toward the fallen. I refuse to look.

I think what he’s really asking is why I didn’t do this before, why I didn’t call on the Gods weeks ago and murder him and his men in their sleep. I suppose I could have, if the Gods were listening, and one in particular. But since Poseidon has taken Beta Sinta under his trident, I doubt he would give me the means to kill him. And I don’t take murder lightly. Kill or be killed, okay, but so far, the Sintans haven’t hurt me.

“Who cares?” I shrug. “The Kingmaker’s alive and bound by an unbreakable vow. Hooray for you. Congratulations to the lucky tyrant.”

“Cat. Be reasonable.”

Reasonable? Reasonable!
“Don’t ask me about magic and Gods, and I won’t ask you about warlord stuff.” My tone lets him know just how insignificant “warlord stuff” is in comparison to magic and Gods.

Beta Sinta’s gray eyes flicker with irritation.
Ha!

Sort of.

Annoying him wasn’t actually that satisfying.

His hard look turns even flatter than usual. “God Daughter? Or lover?”

I swallow. For a southern Sintan Hoi Polloi warlord who doesn’t know magic from a goat, he sure knows how to hit a Cyclops in the eye every now and then. “Why do you care?”

Something primal flares in his gaze. “Either way, you’re mine now.”

Nervous laughter bubbles out of me. “Your arrogance never ceases to amaze me. You would defy a God for a Kingmaker?”

“He gave you to me.”

My heart stops.
He did, didn’t he?

“God Father,” I answer with a shrug. “No Olympian lovers for me.”

That primal look turns wholly possessive, doing unacceptable things to my insides. Before I can think about anything, and especially that quick, rough kiss, power bites the edges of my awareness. I turn toward the source and see a bowman nocking an arrow.

Fisans always have three bowmen. I can’t believe I forgot. He must have come up the back side of the rise, and he’s sighting the biggest target. Always take down the strongest first.

He lets fly, and the arrow zooms toward us with unnatural speed, glowing Chimera’s Fire in its wake. I reach, but the fight and the fangs have left me drained, and I can’t grab the magic.

“Griffin!” I twist and jump in front of him. Pain lances my back as the arrow slams me into Beta Sinta’s chest. I clamp down on a cry and push off as hard as I can before I burst into flames. He stubbornly holds on, his face blank with shock. I cuff him in the ear, startling him into letting me go seconds before the inferno engulfs me.

My scream splinters the air. Crimson heat swallows me whole. My back bows in agony. My skin blisters instantly. The blaze deafens me to my own howl as my world narrows to pain—intense, searing pain. Then the flames suddenly implode, sucked inside for later.

I stagger and draw in a shuddering breath. My whole body shakes. My clothes are mostly gone, and my skin is revolting—an angry, charred mix of red and black. A violent tremor runs through me, excruciating, and then the healing process takes hold.

The bowman is frantically chanting fire into another arrow. I can’t let him get away after what he just saw, or let him kill someone. Somehow, I force a thread of Chimera’s Fire from my depths and will it toward the Fisan.

The magic is fast, a bright smear in the air. The Fisan burns, but unlike me, he doesn’t rise from the ashes. And that’s all that’s left. His scream still rings in my ears, but I don’t even see a bone.

The tension keeping me upright disappears along with the bowman, and my knees turn to liquid. My breath comes in short, painful pants. My eyes are doing their best to roll back in my head.

I blink rapidly, halfway to the ground when Beta Sinta grabs my restored arms, stopping my fall. I swivel like a puppet, trying to regain my footing.

His eyes are huge. “Of all the stupid, idiotic, imbecilic, reckless—”

“I get it,” I moan.

“—things to do!” His fingers tighten painfully. “Don’t ever do something like that again!”

Anger makes me see red again. “Why not? If I want to save someone, I will! What good is the Kingmaker without a king!”

He stumbles back, clearly as shocked as I am. I hadn’t meant to, but I think I just pledged him my loyalty.

“I’m not Alpha,” he says roughly.

“You should be!” My yell is more of a gurgle. Frowning, I wipe the back of my hand across my mouth, and it comes away bloody. I’m suddenly aware of a hot pulse of pain in my back and remember the arrow. Is that why it’s so hard to breathe?

“Griffin?” I sway forward, and he catches me against his chest. It’s like a rock. A bloody, sweaty, dirty rock. It feels good. I breathe shallowly, catching the faint scent of citrus through all the blood and dust before my legs give out.

“Cat?”

I grimace, my back throbbing. “Can’t… Can’t breathe right.”

He sits and drapes me across his lap, his powerful hands moving incredibly gently over my back.

“It must have pierced a lung,” Carver says, crouching next to us.

Beta Sinta curses, breaks the arrow shaft but doesn’t pull out the head, and then curses some more. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Chimera’s Fire,” I wheeze. “Kills. Really hurts.” Not to mention the arrow heading straight for his heart.

Beta Sinta turns me in his arms. My eyes flutter closed, but not before I glimpse the haunted look on his face.

I must have blacked out because he’s suddenly on his horse, and Carver is lifting me up to him. One of Beta Sinta’s tunics covers me from neck to knees. He must have sliced a hole in it for the broken arrow shaft because I don’t feel it pulling.

“Burn the Fisan leader,” I whisper. “Dilute my blood.”

He gives the order without questioning me, splashing water over my mouth, hands, and back while Carver and Flynn do as I said. Kato is slumped over his horse, barely holding on to consciousness.

“Griffin?”

He leans down, putting his ear close to my mouth.

“The circus. In Kaplos again.” We’re closer to Velos, but the two cities are neighbors, and Kaplos can’t be more than an hour from here. “Selena. Healer.”

“You’ll want to stay with them.” His bloodstained fingers curl into the material covering my hip. The look on his face makes my heart twist.

Actually, if I survive, I kind of want to stay with him. I really am an idiot. “No choice,” I rasp.

His mouth flattens. His eyes flick up as he spurs his horse, heading west. The shock of sudden movement sends a burst of pain through my back, and I moan. Beta Sinta’s arm tightens around my waist, and I burrow into his chest, holding on. Maybe I’ll trust him to fight my monsters while I sleep. Maybe I don’t have a choice.

His voice is fierce in my ear. “You’re mine now, Cat. Don’t you dare die on me.”

I wake up in a familiar tent. It smells like home. “Selena?”

She leans over me, smiling. Her blonde braid slips forward and brushes my arm. It’s glossy and sleek and so thick it’s the size of a man’s wrist. Her face is flawless. Ageless. She could be thirty, she could be two hundred, and her eyes are the color of a northern lake on a clear, windless day—dark blue and so deep that when I look into them, I sometimes think I’m seeing another world.

She gently brushes the hair back from my face, and I burst into tears.

Selena arches delicate eyebrows a shade darker than her braid. “That’s a first.”

“I missed you.” I hiccup, embarrassed.

“I’m flattered. I didn’t think you cried.”

“I don’t,” I say, swiping at my tears.

She sits back, bringing her thumb and index finger nearly together. “I’m
this
close to perishing from curiosity.”

I blink, surprised. Selena always seems to know everything, at least before anyone else does. “That would not please Hades.”

She smiles a secret, satisfied smile that makes me wonder what it’s like to be loved by a God, even one who already has a wife.

“The warlord isn’t talking, I think out of a misguided effort to protect you. Information on my end has been scarce lately, so tell me, who is the man that carried you into my circus, roaring for me to save you?” Her grin turns impish. “‘
Fix her! Now! Or I swear to the Gods that the Furies will rain death and destruction upon you, and there will be lightning bolts to pay!
’”

I gasp. “He didn’t!”

“He did.” Her extraordinary eyes dance with mirth, and I cough up an involuntary smile. It takes a certain dimension of balls to threaten Selena. She can be really scary in a mother-hen-meets-warrior-queen kind of way. The magic around her is palpable, awing, and, frankly, a little disturbing it’s so intense. It’s a good thing their goals converged—protecting me—or Beta Sinta might have been in trouble.

“How long have I been here?” I ask.

“Two days. You had to sleep it off. Me too.”

Selena hardly sleeps unless she does something incredibly taxing. If she needs rest, Hades brings her to the Underworld, although I can’t imagine she does much sleeping there.

Troubled, I ask, “It was that close?”

“
Minutes
close, and you still need your rest.”

Tiny goose bumps rise on my arms. I’ve always been aware of my own mortality. That doesn’t make almost dying any easier. I cheated death again. Hades must
really
not want me. He’s probably afraid I’ll cause as much trouble in the Underworld as I will in Thalyria.

I frown, rubbing the chill from my skin. “He hasn’t told you who he is?”

Selena shakes her head.

“Beta Sinta—the new and improved.” I mean to sound sarcastic, but it doesn’t really come out that way.

Something flickers in her eyes, maybe a flash of annoyance. It’s gone so fast I might have imagined it.

“Definitely improved,” she says. “Especially after I got through with him.”

Worry slams through me. “Was he badly hurt?”

“Do you care?”

I hesitate, alarmed by the intensity of my reaction. “I’m…not sure?”

Selena lets out an elegant snort. “You’re not very convincing. And, no, he wasn’t badly hurt. Cuts and slashes. Some blood loss. Nothing irreparable.”

Relief floods me, but the feeling is short-lived. “Did I bleed?”

“Yes, but I burned the tunic and diluted everything else. Nothing traceable was here for more than a few minutes.”

Selena’s never asked who I’m hiding from or why. She protects me regardless. “Thank you.”

She inclines her head so regally I feel like I should kneel, or bow.

“And the others?” I ask.

“The lanky, dark one was weary but fine. Carver, I believe? And the jolly ax-wielder needed his arm fixed, but he wasn’t too damaged otherwise, a bit like your Beta Sinta.”

My heart has a miniature seizure. “He’s not
my
Beta Sinta.”

She continues like I haven’t spoken. “And the very handsome Kato nearly lost his leg. It took everything I had left in me after finishing with you to save it.”

Kato of the smiling blue eyes and sunny hair. Of Athena. Of wisdom and war. I can’t believe he almost lost a leg.

“They’re all okay, then?” I grin like an idiot. What is
wrong
with me?

She rises from her chair, fluid and vaguely shimmering. Her grace is legendary. I’m agile and strong, but I’d rather move like sunbeams on water, like Selena.

“In good health and arguing incessantly with Desma and Aetos. Those two are under the impression the Sintans abducted you.”

She’s asking a question. I owe her an answer. “They did. Sort of.”

Her sculpted lips purse. “Help me understand a ‘sort of’ abduction,” Selena says, pouring me a cup of water.

Well, it sounds stupid when you say it like that.

My throat is parched, so I drink before answering. “He’s Beta Sinta. He said he’d have you all arrested if I didn’t come.”

“And you believed him?”

It’s a loaded question coming from Selena. I nod. After nearly a month with him, I also know he would have done it because he felt he had to, not because he wanted to.

“He needs a powerful Magoi to help him and his precious Alpha sister, Egeria.” Egeria is no Alpha. She sounds more like a buttercup. Beta Sinta on the other hand, he’s Alpha material. Fierce on the battlefield, bloody, focused, ruthless…
fair?

“Plus, he had a magic rope.”

Selena laughs, and the sound is like wind chimes on a spring breeze. “You? Caught by a magic rope?”

I flush. “Don’t remind me.”

She clears her throat, taming more laughter, and asks, “Will you help him?”

Selena may not know
who
I am, but I’m certain she knows
what
I am—the Kingmaker—even if we’ve never discussed it. “My abilities can be valuable in diplomatic situations,” I say carefully.

“He came here to save you. He looked like he cared.”

I shrug, glancing down. “I’m a weapon he doesn’t want to lose.”

“I think there’s more.”

My eyes snap back up. “Don’t infer something that isn’t there. We’re both monsters.”

Her dark-blue gaze flicks over me, unnerving. “Monsters still mate.”

I choke on my own spit and then cough.

A faint smile curves her lips. “Why didn’t you just escape?”

“The rope.” That stupid, infuriating enchanted rope that led me to make a binding vow to stay with Beta Sinta until his—or my, if it comes first—dying day.

She looks incredulous. “You couldn’t find a way out?”

“It was a bloody good rope!”

Sighing, she drops the subject and reaches for my hand. “Of all the monsters chasing you, Cat, you could have been caught by worse.”

I look away from her. Colorful fabrics hang from the domed ceiling of Selena’s tent. I stare at them, thinking she’s right. I don’t usually like to be touched, but I leave my hand where it is. No one has held my hand in years. Except Beta Sinta. But that was different; he was dragging me around.

“Is that your pearl of wisdom for the day?” I ask.

“No, this is. Listen to your heart. You think it’s black. I don’t know everything you’ve been through, but I know enough to understand that your past filled you with hostility and hate. But you still laugh. You still love, and you protect the people you care about. You’re not who you think you are. You’re better, and you’re
more
.” Her powerful, fathomless gaze holds mine, and a prickly feeling crawls up my nose toward my eyes. “No matter what you think, your heart is still red and beating.” She squeezes my fingers. “Listen to it.”

I nod, resisting the urge to sniff.

As soon as Selena leaves, Desma and Aetos burst into the tent.

“Cat! You’re awake!” Desma falls on top of me, hugging me, the cot—everything. It would hurt if she didn’t weigh less than I do.

Aetos looms over us, huge and blue.

“Don’t
you
try that,” I warn.

He grins, and I reach up, drawing him down for a quick hug. Happiness bubbles inside me at seeing these two again.

“How are you?” I ask, smiling.

He pats my hand. “Better, now that you’re back.”

My smile falls, landing somewhere near my toes. “I can’t stay.”

“You have to!” Color erupts from Desma. Without thinking, I gather the magic she released. I let part of it go, and it shimmers around the tent, turning the warm air the color of jewels in the sun.

“You’re not leaving with
him
,” Aetos growls.

I think we all know who
him
is. “I have to. I gave my binding word.”

“That son of a Cyclops!” Aetos pounds his massive fist down on Selena’s vacated chair. It shatters like a toy made of twigs. “He made you promise before he brought you to Selena.”

I shake my head. “I promised before I got hurt.”

His mouth snaps shut. I’ve left Aetos speechless. Definitely a first.

“Why?” Desma asks.

“There was about to be a battle. I was magically tied up. Actually, I was tied to him. Neither of us could fight like that.”

“So if he untied you, you promised to stay with him?”

I nod, and Desma looks appalled by my stupidity. “You traded one shackle for another, much stronger one.”

“I know,” I say, disgusted. “I had a better chance of escaping the enchanted rope than my own binding word. But we’re alive, right?”

“
We?
” Desma asks pointedly.

My face heats. “They’re not that bad. And they might be better for the realm.” Unless having a Hoi Polloi Alpha makes Tarva and Fisa rain years of fire and monsters down on us.

“What do they have to do with Sinta?” Aetos asks.

As I explain who the Sintans are, my two best friends turn an interesting shade of yellow. Aetos looks a bit green, actually, given his blue tattoos.

“So, a strapping warlord, who is actually Beta Sinta, takes one look at you and decides he
has
to have you?” Desma asks.

“Strapping?” Aetos grumbles.

“Not as strapping as you, darling.” Desma smiles sweetly, and Aetos looks mollified, lowering his head to kiss her soundly on the lips.

My jaw goes slack. I’ve been waiting years for this. I go away for a month, and it happens without me? Life is
not
fair!

I clear my throat, and Desma breaks the kiss, blushing.

“Apparently,” I answer, my eyes bouncing back and forth between the two of them so fast it gives me vertigo.

“But why? Why you?” Desma asks, still pink.

“Because I’m cute and funny?”

They stare at me.

“No, really,” Desma insists. “Why
you
?”

I sigh. “He needs a Magoi with my skills. He thinks I can be helpful in diplomatic situations. Alliances and treaties. Things like that.”

Aetos chokes on something. “You? Diplomatic?”

“I know!” I throw my hands up. “I guess he thinks insult first and kill after will be good for the realm.”

We all laugh, but it feels forced.

“There’s more to it,” Desma prods.

I shake my head. “He’s Hoi Polloi. He needs Magoi. I’m a soothsayer.”

“You’re more than that.” Aetos doesn’t ask. He states a fact.

When I don’t say anything, Desma asks, “How does Beta Sinta know you’re more than that? Why work so hard to save you when he could just abduct himself another soothsayer?” She frowns, obviously hurt. “You didn’t just tell him whatever else you are, did you?”

“Of course not!” I say hotly. “It was an
oracular dream
.” I roll my eyes. “Thanks a bunch, Poseidon.”

Silence. It lasts so long I get sleepy. Magical healing saps my energy like nothing else.

“Poseidon?” Aetos eventually echoes.

I yawn. “Because of him, Beta Sinta watched me, put two and two together, and found some old scroll confirming it all.”

Silence again. Then Desma asks, “Will you ever tell us, Cat?”

It’s getting hard to focus. Fatigue turns the multicolored tent into a kaleidoscope. “I don’t know. It’s not what I want to do with my life. It’s what I ran away from.”

Blue lines pull tight around Aetos’s mouth. “But you’ll do it for him?”

I don’t answer, and my eyelids sag.

* * *

I wake up sometime late in the afternoon and then eat like a person three times my size. An embarrassing amount of roast chicken and an entire tray of spice cakes, which I’m guessing Desma left by my bedside, disappear in less than an hour. I feel stronger but stickier than the cakes I just inhaled.

A parade of visitors keeps me from leaving the tent for a bath. Dozens of circus residents pop their heads in to see if I’m awake and to check on me. I get tired again fast, but I’m too happy to see everyone to say so. Tadd and Alyssa bring me a pot of honey from the beehive they carry around with them everywhere the circus goes, and Zosimo and Yannis tell me about the performances I missed while I was gone. Vasili and his wife give me a new knife, clearly under the impression I need more blades.

“In case you lose one in the warlord’s gut,” Vasili says with no expression whatsoever.

Who me? Do I look violent and prone to slaughter?

Finally alone, I get up to tuck the knife into my satchel and discover just how weak I still am. I groan, taking baby steps across the tent. My legs wobble, feeling like dough that’s been rolled out but not baked hard.

Kato, Carver, and Flynn show up just as I’m crawling back onto the cot. Instead of collapsing like I want to, I sit, greeting them with a sour expression. “Didn’t you all die?”

Flynn smiles, his brown eyes alight with humor. “Almost.”

I grimace. “Maybe next time.”

Carver looks more serious. “You didn’t let us die.”

I glance down and pluck at the sheet, uncomfortable with his gratitude. “You didn’t let me die, either.”

“That was mostly Griffin,” he says. “He rode like a bat out of the Underworld to get you here. We showed up with Kato while Selena was finishing with you.”

“Well,” I say, ignoring the warmth spreading through my middle, “Kingmakers only come around every two hundred years or so. When you’ve got one, it’s best to keep her alive.”