Page 104 of A Kiss of Hammer and Flame

Lumsden’s blood. Cahra inhaled a shuddering breath.

‘Keep moving!’ One of Steward Atriposte’s guards manhandled Cahra forward and she bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep from turning and snapping the rat’s neck, though she could feel Hael’s powers fading. The evil rulers had left their horses by the gate, and she would have laughed at their caution except she too recalled the stories of raiders looking to break in and rob Hael’stromia of its treasure, only to die freakishly, gruesomely… Or so the tales were peddled, rumours to stoke the fires of each kingdom’s obsession with it. But now that Cahra was here, walking the sands of the abandoned capital, she couldn’t help but sense it too: the latent warning. It was wise to tread softly in this place.

The stench of death was unmistakable.

However, there was one figure who walked without fear, although she couldn’t see the person’s face. But she knew those robes, even if the colour differed, the man’s white not Wyldaern’s time-worn black. It had to be Grauwynn, Thelaema’s Oracle counterpart.

Which meant her options had shrunk. If Grauwynn was with them, he’d be able to communicate anything she did, any stepping out of line, to the guards who held Ellian and the others hostage, as well as to Kolyath and Ozumbre’s armies. Their archers.

One wrong move, and the boy, her people and Luminaux’s royals would all die.

So she had to be smart and suffocate the urge to fight. Wait until she found Hael. Cahra ground a heel into the soft black sand that carpeted the capital, pushing her raw anger down and into her boots, the sensation chafing at her.

They continued in the direction of the capital’s palatial temple by way of a maze of snaking streets, past more imposing buildings. She squinted, trying to guess their purposes: barracks, treasury, archives? Each was splendid in its own right; one with slate-grey basalt that glistened in the weakened sun, the next carved of black marble with silvery streaks and adorned with soaring columns, a mosaic of inky rosettes and gargoyles with asp-like heads. Cahra glanced at the epigraph above the entrance, its ancient symbols a mystery—

And froze, staring at those marks. She knew one symbol, as she’d seen it on her foot. Hael had said it was the character for ‘house’.

Then Cahra turned, suddenly realising the dark building had a twin, but its opposite: a neighbour of shimmering white, the veneer iridescent. The only white building she’d seen.

She put a hand to her chest, a hollowness welling inside the longer she stared at it.

Two opposing houses, she thought, frowning.

But why?

Jarett prodded Cahra forward with his sword, the tip piercing through her leathers.

She hissed, rolling a shoulder as the sting of the blade throbbed at her back, knowing he’d drawn blood.

Finally, Cahra and her captors entered the approach avenue to the colossal pyramid, the long road flanked on each side by a row of what looked to be dark altars like those in Hael’s tomb. That itself was enough to give her pause, let alone the two obelisks inscribed from top to bottom with more ancient symbols. But none of those things were what held people’s attention in a stranglehold, she realised. That honour was all Hael’s, the monumental statue erected before the obelisks gazing down at them all, his likeness uncanny. Whoever had carved such a grand statue had even attempted to emulate Hael’s eyes.Were they fire opals?Kolyath and Ozumbre’s rulers stared. This warning was significantly less latent.

Fingers snapped in front of her and Cahra bared her teeth at Jarett, as Atriposte waved a hand at the double doors beyond the statue. The Kingdom Guards closest to Cahra angled their weapons at her; too many weapons. A sigh burned deep in her lungs.

Atriposte’s gaze cut to her. ‘Open it,’ he barked.

Cahra stepped carefully to the pyramid, the pylons of the gateway set into its stones. Jet curlicues of sand twisted, grains suspended in the air, as if reaching for who lay inside, and she gasped. Waiting for someone to give her the Key, she held out a shaky hand.

Jarett slapped the relic down and Cahra hissed at the Commander.

She did as before, pressing the eye of the Key to the lock. The same clattering and clanking sounded, the doors to the palatial temple heaving open, sand and dust whorling. Blackness awaited them.

As did Hael. He was in the pyramid, somewhere, the thought giving Cahra comfort. Moments later, torches passed between Kolyath and Ozumbre’s guards and she was shoved head-first inside.

Beyond the entrance was a cavernous hall with towering pillars that led to tunnels, passageways that proceeded both upwards and downwards to where Cahra could sense Hael, deep below the surface, in what she could only assume were the catacombs.

‘Which direction?’ Jarett’s frog-like eyes glared at her as the path before them forked.

King Decimus spoke. ‘We should part ways to search.’ Cahra saw it in the Ozumbre King’s eyes: he wanted the weapon just as much as Atriposte.

‘As you wish,’ Atriposte said airily. ‘The girl blacksmith, being a Kolyath subject, will remain in the custody of my guards.’

Cahra resisted the urge to swallow, catching a flicker of mirth on the Steward’s lips. She could only guess what he had planned.

Hael isn’t far.Now that she was inside the pyramid, she understood what he’d meant about sensing her. She could feel their tether, like a hand tugging her along, into the temple and towards Hael’s tomb, the temperature dropping as they descended.He isn’t far.

But she wasn’t going to tell the Steward that.

Decimus nodded to Atriposte, Grauwynn accompanying the King as he departed. Cahra watched them go. So it was Ozumbre that had the High Oracle’s support? Interesting. And if Grauwynn was gone, then—

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