Page 87 of King of Fire and Flames

“Leave me… please. Not safe,” Orion muttered, his broken words barely audible. “Dead anyway.”

“Orion, please don’t say that.” I bent and brushed sweat-soaked hair from his face, untangling it from the remains of his tusks. “We won’t let you die.”

“Leaf? I can’t see you. Are you…”

“I’m here, but I’m invisible, as you soon will be, too. Safe under the Sayeeda’s cloak.”

Ari held a water pouch to Orion’s cracked lips, and he drank deeply, somehow managing to keep the liquid down. She broke up pieces of dried meat and tucked them into the sides of his cheeks. “If you haven’t the strength to chew and swallow, just suck on them. I’m putting more in your pockets.”

“It’s all arranged, Orion,” said Arrow as he nodded for Esen to pick the orc up again. “As we speak, in the second bay around the coastline, a fishing boat waits, cloaked by the reaver elves on board. They are healers and have ample food, water, and comfort to offer. On the Light Realm coast, eponars are waiting to carry your party to the sanctuary of Auryinnia, where the Zareen herself and your wife will oversee your recovery.”

“My wife?” Orion croaked.

Arrow nodded. “Yes. You must hold on. You have much to live for.”

“How?” I asked, as Ari whispered the reaver chant—auron khaban ana—calling the magic forward, but not fully activating her cloak. “How did you organize all of this in so little time?”

“Speaking of time, yours is running out. You must speak later,” urged Ruhh as she flew through the cavern like an angry wasp. “It’s no longer safe here.”

Arrow led us through the dark passage, his deep voice echoing in the confined space. “On the night that Azarn tortured Orion in the hall, Esen began working on a plan to get him out of the Sun Realm. She’s trusted here and could communicate with our contacts in other realms.”

So, it seemed he had fully reconciled with his ex-guard and held no grudge against her for aligning with the fire fae or conspiring to arrest me. Arrowyn Ramiel continued to surprise me.

Outside, a raging storm attacked the cliffs above and the sea below, Arrow shuddering with each flash of lightning as if it had struck him between the shoulder blades.

If enduring a foul storm was the sole consequence of breaking the Sentura-Pyre spell, then we’d gotten off very lightly.

Ari activated her reaver cloak, and to stay in its range, we traveled close together, slipping and sliding down the rocky trail toward the beach, with Esen balancing Orion on her shoulder and Arrow carrying the unconscious prince rather carelessly, his night robes trailing the sand.

When Bakhur woke up, he would have a brutal crick in his neck.

Chapter 27

Leaf

It didn’t take long to work out that if I stayed close to Ari, in the range of her reaver’s cloak, I could see everyone in our small party. But I still wasn’t visible to them.

The blood orchid’s magic was fire based, incompatible with the deep-earth power of the elves of Auryinnia, and therefore reacted unpredictably.

“How long will it take to arrive at the meeting place?” I asked, swiping wet hair from my eyes.

“About fifteen minutes if we move fast,” said Arrow. “Keep talking, Leaf. I need to know where you are at all times.”

“I can do that,” I replied as I tugged on Ari’s tunic. “What did you do to Bakhur?”

“Estella created a sleeping potion for him. He’s had a large dose,” said Ari, not looking back as she spoke, the wind flapping her soaked, golden tunic around her calves.

“Bakhur’s mother gave you a sleeping potion?” I tripped over my feet in surprise. “Your powers of persuasion are truly astounding.”

Ari laughed. “Estella suggested we use Bakhur to break the pyre’s spell.”

“Gods, that was… nice of her, I guess.”

Granting Arrow’s request, I blathered on about the rumbling storm clouds and the tiny creatures living in the rock pools I leaped over, and he grunted or laughed, responding to each trivial comment.

We followed the shoreline around a sharp bend, staying close to the cliffs, the rain finally abating when we arrived at a small bay about ten minutes later.

Sand squeaked beneath our boots, jewel-toned sea glass glinting in the sunlight amongst the coarse grains. White caps raced like spirited silver ponies into the shore, and a group of gulls circled above the sea as they fished for breakfast, their urgent cries evoking memories of picnics on the beach with my family when I was a child.

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