Page 18 of King of Fire and Flames

Leaning forward, he braced an elbow on his knee. “I’ve heard that you killed your brother, whose skills were enhanced by fire magic, with your human fighting ability alone. I find that difficult to believe. Tonight, I’d like a demonstration of your supposed prowess.”

“You’ll have me fight? That’s the first supposed entertainment?” I asked, mirroring the word back to him.

He smiled. “Yes.”

“But if I die tonight, there will be no Earth Realm bride for your son.”

Azarn shrugged. “And as I’ve already advised you, there are other ways to control the gold trade.”

Nausea churned in my gut. Arrow and the Zareen would never cede power over the gold to the Sun Realm. Coridon and Auryinnia had existed in a symbiotic relationship for thousands of years. They needed each other. And nothing King Azarn did to me would change that.

Torchlight flickered over the Fire King’s obsidian throne, his hands gripping armrests of extravagantly molded gold, and his green eyes blazing as he studied me.

The same barely bridled excitement burned in the gazes of his family—except for Queen Estella of the Crystal Realm—a star fae whose detached manner was as mysterious as the galaxies surrounding the five realms.

My chains rattled as Esen stepped forward and unlocked them with deft movements, her eyes on the task and her breaths coming out short and ragged. What did she have to worry about tonight?

Esen wasn’t poised to fight an unknown opponent and possibly get hacked to pieces or burned to ash in an enemy territory.

Dark flames writhed around Azarn’s crown of ever-burning wood as he rose from the throne and addressed the court, his voice projecting arrogant authority. “Tonight, Zali Omala of the Earth Realm, a traitor to the Hidden City of Mydorian, will complete a challenge for the chance to see the light of another day.”

My wrists ached and fear weighed heavy in my stomach, but I stood tall with my hands loose by my sides, breathing slowly.

Courtiers murmured, the air thrumming with excitement. I was sure every one of them hoped to see me fail, and I prayed I had the strength to disappoint them.

“Zali, tonight, you will walk the Dragon’s Path,” the Fire King said, sweeping his arm out in front of his velvet-covered chest as he strutted to the edge of the dais. “In recognition of your human weakness, other than the flames that enclose the pathway, I guarantee no other magic shall be used in this event. And no combatant will wear protective armor.”

“Dragons?” My pulse raced. “I have to fight one?”

“There are no dragons present tonight. The flames are your adversaries.”

“What flames?” I asked, whirling around and scanning the throne room.

It looked exactly as it had a moment ago. Fire fae sat at tables around the walls—ogres, trolls, jinns, and the more humanoid fae, all bristling with excitement, their wings, teeth, and other strange appendages grinding and flapping in anticipation.

Prince Bakhur, looking particularly thrilled, laughed as he joined Azarn. “Watch closely, Zali Omala,” he said.

Father and son moved their hands in matching complex patterns, and wisps of fire formed a web in front of them. They flicked it outward, and a tunnel of flames swept along the length of the hall.

“Your task is to pass through the flames and emerge intact on the other side,” said the king. “If you survive, you may have the honor of joining my son in a dance before you retire for the evening.”

Oh, lucky me. What a prize!

“And when will the second event happen?”

“When it suits me, impertinent human.”

I nodded and considered what I’d learned.

Azarn wanted a demonstration of my fighting skills. Did that mean I’d need to battle the flames themselves? Or was there more to the trial that he hadn’t disclosed?

Raiden appeared and handed me a black-hilted sword. I closed my eyes, holding the weapon over my open palms. The blade felt well-balanced, and when I opened my eyes, firelight was reflected in the sword’s sharp edge.

At least the fire fae had given me an excellent weapon.

Stepping backward, I slashed the sword through the air, wondering if I should slice Raiden’s head from his shoulders while I had the opportunity. And since Esen stood beside him, I could remove two heads in one satisfying sweep.

But then the fire fae would kill me, and my plans to destroy Arrow and return to Van and the Mydorians would be dust. And I’d be nothing but ash, floating on the warm Taln breeze.

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