Page 22 of Of Flame and Fury

Kel blinked. She stepped to move away from Coup’s touch. Softly, he squeezed her shoulder.

“Three photos,” he whispered. “Remember?”

Slowly, she smiled.

“Perfect,” the reporter crooned, as a secondary camera flashed. Ivory spots danced in Kel’s vision.

“Can we grab another with you two standing a little closer?” Dana asked.

Slowly, Kel leaned into Coup’s side and moved her arm around his waist, trying to touch him as little as possible. Her skin prickled, her focus acutely on every place they were pressed together. Warmth rolled off him in easy waves, and heat crept up her neck.

Once Dana had takenthreephotos—Bekn hadn’t clarified if the photos had to be from different reporters—Kel fled the interview, recoiling from Coup like a snake before an open flame.

She barely made it three steps before the next reporter assaultedher with similar questions, and she hated that it became harder to answer without Coup’s distracting presence.

“I suppose you could call yesterday the beginning of your relationship with Warren Coupers,” the man—Levi, from Channel Four—said, leaning closer to Kel. “How are you feeling about what happened?”

Kel thought of Bekn’s words, and recited, “Yesterday was a tragedy. I’m sure any other tamer would have done the same.”

She wanted to scream that none of this was the phoenix’s fault, and other members of the Fume should meet the same fate as yesterday’s cultist.

“You’re too modest, sweetheart. It was an impressive feat for a girl so young. How old are you?”

Kel grimaced—sweetheart?—as alarm bells rang through her head. “Seventeen.”

The reporter faked a look of astonishment. He glanced at the camera, then back to Kel. “Only seventeen!Veryimpressive.”

Kel didn’t respond. Levi’s brows raised, though he quickly pivoted. “Last night, you andCoupdidn’t hesitate to recollar the rogue phoenix. I know your late father was quite a vocal advocate of phoenix collars with severely reduced controls. Do you agree with your father’s stance?”

Kel’s stomach roiled. If she’d remembered breakfast, she might have hurled it up on camera.

Her father had been a strong believer in phoenix rights, drawing just as much ire as praise, and more than a few bitter comparisons to the Fume. He’d even once revealed a naive dream of opening a sanctuary that would allow phoenixes to roam entirely uncollared. She winced at the memory.Thatstatement had gotten her dad in some boiling water with the media.

Kel cleared her throat. “I think there are experts much more qualified than I am to debate that issue.”

The words were mostly scripted, scraped together from hours spent standing beside her father for cameras. Ever since Landon Ryker, an Alchemist and the first phoenix rider, collars had always existed. At first the Alchemists had created them as a way to monitor phoenix vitals, to learn from the fiery creatures. Over time, the electronic devices had shifted to a form of control.

It’s in the phoenixes’ best interest, her school textbooks had written,like giving vaccines to prevent disease, or trimming animal tusks to deter poachers.

Kel stiffened. Though she agreed that collaring phoenixes was necessary, she did wonder if there were other, fairer ways of maintaining Cendor’s safety.

Levi squinted and nodded. “Mm-hmm. Of course. Well, we’re all lucky you and Coup were there to prevent any other incidents. Do you think your father is looking down, proud of your actions?”

Kel’s mouth dried. She tried to never think of where exactly her father was, if he was anywhere. If his ghost watched her and bowed his head in shame for her competing in CAPR races. If he would be proud of her for doing what it took to care for Savita. If he would—

A familiar touch warmed Kel’s uninjured arm, hitching her balance. Dira appeared to her right, tilting her head toward the reporter.

“I’m sure if Leon Varra is anywhere, he’s too busy negotiating more cloud space for celestial phoenixes,” Dira quipped.

Kel wrapped her arm around Dira’s waist and gave her a thankful squeeze.

Levi gave a practiced chuckle. “Of course.”

As they broke away from the reporter, Kel spotted a break in the throng and beelined for her cottage.

“Bekn will kill you for that,” Kel muttered to Dira.

Dira shrugged. “Let him try. I’m not the one the media’s trying to pick clean.”

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