Page 99 of A Kiss of Hammer and Flame

Cahra approached, boots silent on the black sands. She just needed to talk to Thierre, to make sure he was really okay, before she gave herself up to Kolyath.

To the Steward, and what she’d been terrified of all these years.

Cahra and Hael had performed the abreption, but the refuge of its peace strained, the panic crowding in, too fast, engulfing her as Cahra’s stomach lurched with thoughts of how the Steward might finally put her to death.

Gritting her teeth, she tried to reason with herself. She couldn’t afford to lose her grip.

Think!Gemstones. Black diamond, ruby, sapphire, grey musgravite…

Cahra didn’t let herself look at the Steward’s face.

Instead, she just ran for Thierre.

‘Cahra,’ he whispered hoarsely, half-falling against her, clutching weakly at her arms. ‘I am fine,’ he told her, lungs heaving. ‘I am fine.’

He was standing, but up close, Thierre looked anything but fine.

‘What did they do?’ Cahra’s words came out like gravel, the thirst for vengeance boiling.

‘Cahra,’ he repeated, shaking his head groggily, as if realising something was wrong. ‘What are you doing? You can’t.’ Thierre pulled back to look at her. One of his eyes was beaten shut, the other glassy, unfocused. ‘You can’t—’ His blue goldstone eyes…

I can. I have to.

‘It’ll be okay,’ she told him, looking away.

‘No,’ he said, shaking his head again, wincing. He gripped her shoulders. ‘You cannot go.’ And stiffened as his one good eye realised Raiden and his Royal Guards were approaching to secure his safety. ‘No! NO!’ Thierre yelled, reaching for Cahra as she backed away, hands raised, towards the enemy.

‘I’m sorry,’ she told him as she retreated, Thierre collapsing onto Raiden’s shoulders. The Captain stared, grief-stricken, at his Prince, then turned and saluted Cahra, his fist held staunchly over his heart.

Thierre’s legs gave way, plunging to the desert sands as he screamed at his saviours. Raiden, Piet, Siarl and Queran attempted to haul him back behind their kingdom’s lines.

‘Cahra!’ Thierre bellowed, struggling and failing to fight his own Royal Guards under their combined strength.

Cahra was shaken but couldn’t do anything except continue along her current path. The rulers kept their word. They’d set Thierre free.

Now it was up to her. All she had to do was what every beggar in Kolyath did.

Survive.

But it’s not simply about surviving, is it?

Cahra’s head snapped up. Thatvoice, from the caves.

She watched, heart aching, as Thierre was dragged behind the safety of his sister. Sylvie nodded to Cahra, the General’s mask slipping as she glowered, lips twisting in a snarl, in the direction of Kolyath and Ozumbre. The direction Cahra was still moving in.

The voice continued.If survival was your goal, you would’ve run.

Cahra tensed. The whole reason she’d made this decision to trade herself for Thierre was because all she’d ever done was run. That had been her answer to everything.

Deep down, you do not want to. You never did.

Cahra’s steps slowed, but she didn’t stop. She thought defiantly,So?

So, you know what must be done. It’s perhaps as Thelaema told you.

She didn’t respond. Because she remembered what the Oracle had said:

‘You have Hael’s powers… Put them to good use.’

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