A Promise of Fire (4 page)

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Authors: Amanda Bouchet

BOOK: A Promise of Fire
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CHAPTER 4

Home. Gone.

Friends. Gone.

Captured by a ruthless Hoi Polloi warrior who’s going to use me to keep the kingdom he stole.

Can life get any worse?

Let me think…
I’m tied to the warlord atop his huge horse, I stink, and my skintight pants are driving me insane.

We ride through the night, the enchanted rope keeping me from jumping off the horse. By dawn, I’m sore and exhausted, my whole body limp with fatigue. My nose still hurts, and my bottom half, which hasn’t been in contact with a horse in years, is aching fiercely, but I keep yawning, and my eyelids feel like someone’s hung marble statues from them. Rage and anxiety usually keep me nice and alert. Right now, they can’t even keep me awake. I slump against the warlord’s back as the sun rises on our right, my last conscious thought that I hope my caked-on cosmetics leave a grimy face print on his clean, white shirt.

I only wake up because someone is fiddling with the rope. Cracking open an eye, I see lean, tall Carver retying it so that Beta Sinta and I are not only strapped together at the waist but under the armpits as well. I didn’t even feel Beta Sinta untie the rope to begin with and scowl at the lost opportunity. I could have turned invisible and bolted from the horse.

Carver pulls the knot tight, tugging me hard against his brother’s back. “You sleep like the dead. Kato and Flynn are already betting on when you’ll fall off.”

I give him the evil eye, and Carver chuckles, flashing that easy smile.
Does he think this is funny?

By noon, the sun is high and hot, beating down on my dark hair and crimson-clad back. My leather pants are officially one of the worst things in my life right now, and that’s saying
a lot
. I still manage to go back to sleep. I haven’t slept like this in years, maybe in my entire life. I may be strapped to a man I hate, but he would probably do a lot to keep me alive. He might even be good at it. Ironically, I feel almost safe.

I’m going to escape.
After
I sleep.

The afternoon heat is unbearable enough to wake me up for good and make me want to claw off my skin. Beta Sinta is throwing off more than his fair share of heat as well, and all I can think about is dumping buckets of icy water over us both. I keep sane by thinking about the north, the cold, the fiery glow of sunshine through a curtain of ice, and the soft chill of snowflakes frosting my skin, but all that does is fill the hollowness inside me with an even deeper ache. Longing for things I can’t have is useless, just like wishing for freedom and a life no one wants to steal out from under me.

Stifling a sigh, I blink against the dry summer brightness and look around. Dust, dust, and more dust.
Fabulous
.

My stomach wakes up with a low rumble. “Don’t you people eat?”

“We ate. You slept through it.”

Beta Sinta’s deep voice vibrates through my rib cage, and I wiggle back as far as the rope will allow.

“I have to get down.”

He glances over his shoulder at me. “Now?”

“I have to… You know…”

There’s a slight pause. Of course he knows.

“There are woods and a stream up ahead. We’ll stop there.”

I squint and can barely make out the greenery on the horizon. It’s miles away. What does he think I’m made of? “I have to pee
now
.”

Wordlessly, he reins in his mount, loosening the rope to give me about four feet to work with.

I slide to the ground and land on wobbly legs, bracing myself against the horse’s steaming flank. I glare up at him. “You have to get down. Or untie the rope.”

Moving with easy, masculine grace, Beta Sinta swings down, still irritatingly fresh except for the sweaty face print on his back.
Ha!

“Some privacy?” I grind out.

He arches one eyebrow. You’d think I’d just asked him to catch Pegasus and fly him to the moon. There’s no privacy anyway, not even a bush to squat behind, just sunburned plains, heat haze, dust, and tumble bumbles.

Shrugging, I turn invisible, taking the rope and the warlord along with me. His men shout in alarm.

“It’s all right,” Beta Sinta calls. “I’m still here.”

He can’t see me, though. Right now, he can’t even see himself. Anything attached to me turns invisible right along with me. Clothes, ropes, warlords… It’s a great way to scare the life out of someone. They think they’ve died and become a realm-walking spirit. Nobody wants to end up like that.

The second we pop back into sight, Beta Sinta mounts his big, brown beast and reaches down for me. I’m so stiff I can’t get back on the horse. None of my muscles comply with my brain, and he has to haul me up like a sack of grain.

“Go easy, Griffin,” Flynn rumbles on our left. “She’s not used to riding.”

I almost throw him a grateful glance but then turn it into a scowl, which is easy since I’m squinting into the sun, and Flynn’s shock of auburn hair is so shiny it’s practically a weapon in its own right.

Beta Sinta ignores Flynn’s advice in favor of getting to the woods—and shade—faster, setting a pace that makes me wish my seat bones were even better padded than they already are. I sink my nails into his sides, half to hold on, half to maim him, but he doesn’t even react.

Griffin
. I turn the name over in my head, reluctantly curious. A griffin is an exceptionally rare creature, a mix of lion and eagle, king of beasts and king of birds. His parents must have been the pretentious sort. Then again, he did take over Sinta.

He finally slows to a walk, I think for my sake even though we’re not yet to the forest. My stomach growls, louder this time, and he fishes around in his saddlebag, handing me something wrapped in grape leaves. It’s smelly and not quite firm. Goat cheese.
Gag!

“Got any bread to dilute this?”

“Dilute?” Beta Sinta sounds like he’s laughing. There’s definitely a smirk in his voice.

Kato’s blue eyes dance with humor as he hits me with a dazzling smile that’s almost as bright and sunny as his hair. “Griffin ate it all.”

I huff. “There’s no need to be so merry about it. Did you abduct me just to starve me?”

“I was hungry, you were sleeping, and you’re hardly being starved,” Beta Sinta says.

It’s hard to argue with that around a mouthful of cheese. I swallow and ask, “Why Beta? Why crown your sister Alpha when you’re the one who did all the work?”

It doesn’t seem like he’s going to answer, so I take another bite of cheese and keep eating until I devour the entire chunk. It turns out goat cheese is edible if you’re really hungry.

We’re almost to the edge of the woods when he finally speaks. “When I was a boy, royal soldiers used to tear through our tribe, searching our homes for twice the taxes we owed, at times abusing our women, and often taking our men for their endless wars. We collected nothing of value because it would be stolen, and thatched our roofs with simple hellipses grass because half the village would be burned to the ground. We’d cut down fields of the stuff for weaving and thatching. It’s supple yet strong. And abundant. We’d rebuild, over and over again, making everything we could from that bloody grass.”

He turns, and I see him in profile, his sharp gaze scanning the meadow rolling right up to the forest. He’s probably noting the abundance of hellipses grass. The tough, long stalks are the only thing that really grows here unless there’s shade, a natural water source, or irrigation. It’s all over the north, too, but greener and softer there, like the springtime grass here before it dries and yellows from the heat.

“One day, my father decided he was done with blind subjugation. He challenged for leadership, won the tribe, and then did the same from village to village until he’d unified a swath of people and land across southern Sinta. Before the royals even noticed, he created an army right under their noses. The next time soldiers came, they only took the taxes we owed, they left our men and women alone, and they didn’t light up a single home.” He pauses to hand me his water gourd, drinking after me before continuing.

“I know what one decision—one
person
—can change. But I form and execute plans. I don’t second-guess, and I rarely call myself into question. That’s not all Sinta needs. Our goal isn’t just to dominate, like previous royal families. It’s to rule.”

Reality douses the spark of interest flickering inside of me. It’s only been a few months. What will his attitude be once the power and wealth sink in? Will the Beta position still satisfy him? And, if it lasts that long, what will his future children’s attitudes be once they start vying for the throne? From what I’ve heard, Alpha Sinta is unwed and too old to bear children anyway. That means Beta Sinta will succeed his sister on the throne, likely sooner rather than later, and then his offspring will come after him. Probably in every sense of the words. “How terribly noble.”

“Egeria’s warm,” he says, ignoring my sarcasm. “She smiles at people. She has ideas for healing centers and schools. She knows how to comfort widows and orphans. She compensates for what I lack.”

“Humanity?” I ask snidely, not really meaning it despite my own unfortunate circumstances.

He shrugs. “In a way.”

I snort, not having expected him to agree. “If you’re trying to scare me, it’s not working.” I know what an utter lack of humanity looks—and feels—like. If he had no humanity, he would have taken the throne for himself. He wouldn’t be interested in showing his sister’s softer face to Sinta, or in
ruling
instead of
dominating
. And I’d be unconscious over his horse’s rump.

That doesn’t mean I like him any better.

“I’m not trying to scare you, Cat.”

“So what
are
you doing?”

“Explaining. Like all the realms, Sinta was being beaten into the ground by bloodthirsty, selfish royals. Things had to change. I don’t lack humanity. I just do what needs to be done.”

I frown at the back of Beta Sinta’s tanned neck, noticing a smattering of freckles across it. I could almost agree with that, if “what needs to be done” hadn’t included abducting
me
.

* * *

The ancient forest rises like a sentinel wall, its trees gnarled and old, its canopy thick and high overhead, providing instant relief from the heat. I tilt my head back, breathing the shady air deep into my lungs. “Please say we’re stopping,” I mutter on the exhale.

“Up ahead,” Beta Sinta answers. “By the stream.”

For a second, the thought of water—rejuvenating, curative water—distracts me from everything else. “How long will we stop?”

“Until tomorrow. We need to hunt.”

“Thank the Gods,” I groan.

Carver, Flynn, and Kato smother laughs, and I narrow my eyes at them. “You won’t be laughing with my knives in your hearts.”

They chuckle outright, as if I were joking.

Flynn stretches his upper body, adjusting his ax. “She talks big, but she’s made of custard.”

“Fluffy and full of cream?” Kato wiggles blond eyebrows at me.

Carver grins. “Think she’s sweet, too?”

My eyes spit fire. “Bite me. You’ll find out.”

They burst out laughing, the deep, booming sounds driving the birds from the nearby trees. A tremor even ripples up Beta Sinta’s back, and I have the almost uncontrollable urge to sink my teeth into him.

It takes forever to reach a clearing suitable for making camp. There’s enough shade that the grass is still fragrant and green, and the air smells fresh, like foliage and fertile soil. Beta Sinta’s horse starts grazing before he even dismounts, swinging his leg over the big animal’s neck and sliding easily to the ground. There’s not enough slack in the rope, and it snaps taut, jerking me to the left and chafing my hips.

I stiffly regain my balance, grumbling a curse that would make Aetos proud.

Beta Sinta looks up, unexpected humor softening his eyes to a warm silver-gray. “What are you still doing up there? I thought you couldn’t wait to get off the horse.” A teasing smile lifts one corner of his mouth, and my heart thumps hard in my chest.
Stupid heart.

I swivel my head and stare straight ahead. It’s either that or kick him in the teeth.

I’m seriously considering the kicking option when he reaches up, plucks me off the horse, and sets me down, holding on to my waist while I get my feet under me. My hands land on his biceps for balance, and I gain a whole new appreciation for his battle-hardened physique. The steely strength coiled under my fingers makes me wonder what kind of magic I’ll need to come across to overpower him, what I’ll have to expose him to in order to get away.

Not that I care.

His grip on my waist tightens, and a tremor unfurls through me at the subtle pressure of each warm, blunt fingertip. Eyes hooded, darkening, he murmurs, “You’ll recover.”

Traitorous heat rises in my belly and fans out across my chest. “Dazzle me with your sympathy. Oh wait! You don’t have any. Big, bad Beta Sinta has to hide behind his sister so he won’t scare widows and orphans. How many widows and orphans did you make with your war? Was it worth it,
Beta Sinta
? How long do you think you’ll rule?”

His previously warm gaze turns cool and flinty as his hands fall away, leaving my whole midsection suddenly cold. “Longer—now that I have you.”

His words hit me like a punch, driving the air from my lungs. “I’d rather die than spend the rest of my life as an information slave, getting fried by diplomats’ deceit and sycophants’ lies.” I back up a step, shaking my head. “You can’t use me. I won’t let you.”

The tightness in his expression eases. “It’s not a question of getting used, Cat. We’ll work together. You’ll see.”

My mouth gapes. I have no idea what to say to that bit of insanity.

“Hoi Polloi have never ruled in Thalyria. Don’t you think I know I need Magoi on my side?
At
my side?” he asks. “Magoi are a powerful minority in Sinta. They could be catastrophic for us if they ever decide to turn against us, especially with the northern nobles supporting them. My family and I managed to recruit a few Magoi advisors who actually seemed more interested in the realm than in the blood flowing through our veins, but that’s not enough. I need more than that.”

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