Unleash the Inferno (Heart of a Dragon Book 3) Read online

  “Aye.”

  Something in Natan's tone pulled Cedric's attention toward him. He narrowed his eyes. “Tell me, Natan.”

  Natan glanced behind him, yanking Cedric around, tightening the chains on his wrists. “Sebastian has been anticipating your capture—yours and your sister's. He has, very publicly, built two gallows in the main courtyard outside of his palace's great hall, and he's made it no secret to his commanders and military officials that he intends to use those gallows for you and Kinna.”

  Cedric nodded as he moved forward at Natan's prodding. “So it is not to be the dungeons for me, nor will Sebastian use me to command his Dragons.”

  “He has received word that you have the Amulet, the power of the Stars, and he means to wrest it from your grasp before hanging you in view of all the citizens of ClarenVale and any other Lismarians he can.”

  Natan pushed Cedric toward a gelding that pranced nervously, his bridle held firmly by another soldier. With some difficulty, Cedric mounted the horse, Natan pushing from behind.

  “I hope your legs are strong to grip your horse,” Natan said loudly as he took the lead rope from the soldier. “Your hands will remain bound.” As the soldier stalked away toward another horse, Natan whispered, “The Commander has already sent word via the trees to Sebastian that you are captured. The Dragons, he left, ostensibly because Dragon slaughter is against the law, but he knew that once the Seer Fey released the creatures from their taibe, they will carry word to your sister, Kinna, who will come with all haste to your aid. He will reap the two of you with one net, or so he hopes. The Dragons will serve as a trap.”

  Cedric's jaw hurt from gritting his teeth. He wanted to curse the Stars, but he felt the similarity to the actions of his father and his uncle. It was what they would do. So he would not. “I must get word to my sister; I have to warn her,” he said, low to Natan. “She must not come.”

  Natan shook his head, his mouth tightening. “I fear it is already too late, Dragon-Master. A mole for Sebastian knows of your sister's whereabouts, and has already sent word to the King. Mautach has let it be known that Kinna Andrachen was in Ongalia, but had left the Valley of the Dragons and headed south. I sent my own message via the trees to try to intercept your sister.”

  “I was told the Dryads in these forests could not be trusted! That they did not stand with The Rebellion.” Kayeck's warning flared clearly in Cedric's mind.

  “I personally know a line of Dryads I would trust with my life that runs clear along these mountains. They hate Sebastian and do all that they can to hasten his destruction. They are secret and fast; they will not fail me. Us,” Natan assured him.

  Cedric was not comforted. “You mentioned a mole. Who is Mautach?”

  “None but Sebastian knows,” Natan whispered. “I'm sorry, Cedric. I wish I had been earlier.”

  “What message did you send?”

  “The Dryads of the trees are to watch for the fire-haired Andrachen somewhere north of ClarenVale and south of Ongalia. Mautach's spy network last sighted her near the Sand Flats on her way south, but the Dryads are keeping track of her as well. They are to tell her that Cedric is in mortal danger.”

  Cedric nearly kicked the ground in frustration, stilling his movement as the commander of the company looked his way. He exhaled slowly. “That only means, Natan, that she will come faster. She will not flee if she thinks my life is in danger.”

  Natan shook his head. “Then I fear there is nothing else to be done. You will go to ClarenVale, and Kinna will meet you there.”

  Ember! His mind searched for the Dragon, his psuche partner, desperately hoping they were still within reach, hoping that the Seer Fey had released the Dragons from their taibe. Ember had heard Kinna's location before the Seer Fey had placed him under their taibe. If he could send Ember north and somehow warn Kinna away... but the same gray wall blocked his thoughts, and Cedric's shoulders slumped in frustration. He should have known that the Seer Fey would not release the Dragons until the company was far from them.

  But as the horses wound through the forest slopes and along a creek that trailed through the base of the hills, a flash of light and movement caught his attention where the trees parted beneath the sky, and a panorama of forest and mountains showed the way.

  Ember! His mind screamed, reaching for the Dragons, but the creatures were far beyond his range now. Ember and Sperah were two tiny dots against the clouds, soaring through the air toward Kinna and help.

  They wouldn't know that if she came, they would be leading her to her own death. And he was powerless to call them back.

  He shot a glance at Natan, and then at the Commander who rode not far in front of them. The Commander's eyes were trained on the same spot, and a half-smile creased his profile.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sebastian

  “The Seer Fey, Kayeck, of the Ancients' Council has come. She begs leave to speak with you.” Sebastian's steward remained in his subservient position as he waited for Sebastian's answer. Surprise lit Sebastian's mind. He'd had little to do with the rest of the Seer Fey Council, having only spent time briefly in their presence before the Battle at ClarenVale. Kayeck, he'd met, but his dealings were with Paik. He glanced at the arching stone entrance to his courtyard garden where he'd been pacing since before dawn, trying to rid his mind of his worries before he returned to his chambers for his breakfast. A hunched, mantled figure stood beneath the arch, purple plaits nearly brushing the ground.

  He tilted his chin. “Let her come.”

  The steward deepened his bow and then turned for the entrance, motioning the crone forward. The stooped and cloaked figure approached Sebastian as he took a seat on a stone bench. Behind her, the steward left, and the silence deepened in the courtyard. Sebastian planted a fist on his hip as he watched her slow progress.

  “And what would the wise Kayeck have to do with me?” he asked.

  She did not answer until she stood a length from him, her purple plaits falling to the flagged stones, her opaque gaze fixed above his head. “The King must learn.”

  Sebastian stiffened. “What must I learn?”

  “The King has only felt a fraction of the power he holds in his fingertips. He has mastered the Ice-Touch to his own satisfaction. He has not, however, mastered the other four Touches granted him by the Amulet. He must learn, and quickly, lest he be overcome by the rebellion that rises against him.”

  Sebastian blinked. He slowly rose from the bench, towering over the bent Seer Fey, staring deeply into her seemingly sightless eyes. “What do you mean? This is possible?”

  “Oh, aye, Your Grace. Very possible. It takes only a little self-evaluation.”

  Sebastian shook his head. “I don't understand.”

  “You will. You must allow me to teach you each day for the next weeks, but be wary, oh King. You will be required to search inside yourself to find the roots of who you are, and the process itself may be a painful one.”

  A tantalizing sense of what such a gift could mean began to seep into Sebastian's mind. To control the Touches! All four of them! To call fire or ice or decay or healing to his hands at will! “I am not afraid of pain,” he said.

  “Of physical pain, perhaps not,” Kayeck answered. “This pain will grind into your very soul. But it is necessary, oh King, if you wish to keep the throne on which you sit.”

  Power called to Sebastian; it always had, and it did now. Pain was nothing. Power was everything. “What must I do?”

  The Seer Fey did not answer. She moved past him, settling onto the stone bench Sebastian had just vacated. “I will watch. You will do.”

  Sebastian blinked at her. “What will I do?”

  “Search inside yourself, Sebastian. Where are the flames you have so long smothered? Find them, and you will begin your journey.”

  “The flames?” Sebastian held out his hands, staring at the lines that crossed his palms, feeling the familiar flow of ice.

  Kayeck shook her head. “Not the Ice
-Touch, Your Grace. The flames of your past, they are there, are they not?”

  The knife dipped to his stomach, the tip edging just beneath his skin, drawn in a circle, the pain of it smearing a smile across Liam's face.

  Sebastian clenched his fist shut, burning pain furling through him. “I cannot find the flames.”

  “Then you are not looking deeply enough.”

  Sebastian turned away, his jaw clenching so hard, pain shot through his head. Liam's flaming hand stretched across his stomach, burning his flesh, drawing screams from his adolescent throat. “This—Sebastian—this is what Andrachens do!”

  A rush of heat hurtled through his hands, his arms, into his chest, swirling there. He jerked his gaze back to Kayeck, horrified to find his eyes had flooded with involuntary tears.

  She raised her eyebrows. “I warned you it would crush your soul, Your Grace.”

  “Who am I?” he whispered, a hoarse, ragged sound that dragged through his lips without his permission. “If I am an Andrachen, if my blood is intermingled with that of Dragons, why do the flames burn me so?”

  Kayeck stared at him. “Because you were never meant for this, Sebastian. You have taken your brother's inheritance, and so you will burn in the fires of the Dragons you were never meant to rule. Your insatiable thirst for power will be your undoing.”

  “What are you saying?” Sebastian demanded, but his voice was weak, the pain burning hotter and hotter inside of him.

  Kayeck did not answer for a long moment. At last, she nodded toward his hands. “It seems that you have discovered a portion of yourself.”

  Sebastian dragged his glance downward. His hands were encased in a sheath of flame that rippled across his skin, pulsing with the beat of emotions that writhed inside of him.

  His mouth opened, but his tongue could form no words.

  “Now, Your Grace,” Kayeck said, “you must learn to control it. Once you do, we can move on to the other Touches.”

  “Teach me,” Sebastian rasped. “I want to learn.”

  “Your soul can handle only so much, Your Grace,” she croaked. “I will come again tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow may be too late,” Sebastian shouted angrily. “I must do this as soon as possible!”

  “You will destroy yourself in the process, Sebastian,” Kayeck answered, her cloudy gaze directly on his face. “I will come again tomorrow,” she repeated. She stood, bowing as low as her hunched back would allow. “I bid you farewell, for now, Your Grace.”

  Sebastian didn't answer as he watched the crone shuffle back across the courtyard to the arch. After a moment, he called, “I'll send for you tomorrow morning, shall I?”

  She paused and turned, her filmy gaze somehow cutting through the heat that still lingered in his veins. “I shall come when I shall come, Sebastian.” She turned once more, disappearing at last beneath the archway.

  Sebastian's cold breakfast of wild boar and starfruit ended in an abrupt clatter as the wide doors to his chamber burst open.

  “Your Grace,” his steward said, bowing, “a message has arrived—”

  “Cedric is captured.” Paik finished the message as he strode into the room behind the steward. “You're dismissed,” he told the man without glancing at him, and the steward bowed again, hurriedly quitting the room.

  Sebastian stuffed the last bite of ham into his mouth, ceremoniously dipping his fingers into the bowl of water at his right hand, and wiping them clean on a piece of spotless linen laid before him. He swallowed and dabbed his mouth and beard with the napkin. “Since when do you give orders to my steward?” he asked.

  Paik's fierce green eyes flamed at Sebastian's tone. “Apologies, Sebastian. Would you like me to grovel on the rush at your feet or over here on the stairs? Which would suit you better?”

  Sebastian half-smiled. “I like you, Paik,” he said. “I find you refreshing. But don't play lord of my servants; I won't have it.”

  Paik said nothing, but the friendly tone of the room had returned. Sebastian stood and stretched. “So Cedric is captured, is he? Has his Dragon gone to give news of the event to his sister?”

  “Aye. My Seer Fey let me know the Dragon and his mate flew north as soon as they released their hold on them.”

  “Good,” Sebastian nodded. “My mole came to me before your little coup and let me know my niece's whereabouts as well. Kinna is known for her speed on the back of her Mirage; it won't be long before she comes hither.”

  “You place much trust in her familial loyalty,” Paik said.

  “Aye, I do. She has proven that she will do far more than risk death for the sake of her twin. In this case, it plays right into our plans.”

  Sebastian paced to the door that led to his balcony, staring out over the vast city of ClarenVale. He sighed. “This has carried on for far too long. When Cedric comes, I wish to be rid of him, his sister, her Pixie guardian who sits in my dungeons, and his daughter, all in one fell blow. Too often have they raised their heads when I wished them bowed, and too often have they escaped the snares I've set for them. We have two gallows, one for each of my brother's spawn. Place two more ropes. Four bodies will dangle before sundown tonight. I will make Cedric tell me the whereabouts of the Amulet before they swing, and soon it shall rest behind my throne, a symbol of power to all nations, not only Lismaria.”

  Paik cleared his throat, a minor sound, but one that scraped across Sebastian's nerves like shattered glass.

  “What?” he bit out. “Out with it.”

  “It is a good plan, Your Grace, but for one minor detail.”

  “And what is that?”

  “Our agreement concerning the Amulet.”

  Sebastian whirled on the green-haired Seer Fey. “How dare—”

  “I will remind you, Sebastian,” Paik's voice was hard, “though you may not wish to be reminded, that you did agree to this. I would deliver your brother's twins into your hands, but the Amulet would be returned to the Seer Fey, the Ancients who claimed it in the first place from the Stars.”

  “It was my ancestor who initiated the Bond of Blood and Fire!” Sebastian roared.

  Flames glazed the top of Paik's staff as his green eyes glowed. “And it was my ancestor who pulled the Amulet from the flames.” Sparks shot outward from his staff. “Must I remind you daily, Sebastian? I had hoped your memory was longer than this.”

  Sebastian's sight reddened around the little Seer Fey. “How dare you—”

  “I dare because I am in the right. You will learn, Sebastian Andrachen, that you cannot cross the Seer Fey forever. You have lived a life of privilege, and our Pixie descendants have bowed their necks beneath your yoke, but the time is coming, Sebastian, when that will no longer be the case. Our people will rise up and take back the power that was ripped from us in that original Bond of Blood and Fire. Aarkan's name will no longer be revered as it is now, and Seer Fey will carve their own niche in this world, no longer bound to the treaty that has enslaved us for generations. The Bond will be reborn under new terms, and the Seer Fey will bow to no one.”

  A white band of electricity snapped down Paik's staff as he returned to the steps. He stopped on the top one, his green gaze fastening Sebastian to his place at the balcony doorway. “When your nephew comes, he will hang. Your niece will hang. You may hang all of ClarenVale for all I care. But the Amulet is mine, Sebastian. I will not remind you again.”

  He disappeared into the hallway, his mantle making no sound as it swirled through the air behind him.

  Sebastian stared in consternation at the empty doorway. This new complication did not fit into his plans. It didn't fit at all.

  Night had fallen around the castle, and Sebastian sat alone in his throne room. Torches lined the entire length of the hall, and the silence filled the cavernous chamber. Sebastian gripped the throne's armrests, his glare on the long rush that led to the very steps of the dais. His mind raged in a tumult of anger and frustration.

  Everything he'd wanted was coming to pass. Ton
ight, he would swill his wine atop his balcony as he watched the executions of his brother's twins and the two Pixies in his dungeons, and satisfaction would erupt inside him as his goal of nearly the last two decades was completed before his sight.

  But the dark anger that had taken hold of him during his conversation with Paik had yet to dissolve. He had promised the Seer Fey the Amulet in exchange for his help, but he'd nearly forgotten the promise beneath his grand plans as he'd considered the possibilities that its power would grant him. It was his, after all, the inheritance that came with his throne, and unless Paik himself sat on the throne of Lismaria as its ruler, then the Amulet belonged to Sebastian, and Paik and all his Ancient taibos and taibas couldn't wrest it from his grasp.

  He glanced at his hands, realizing that his numb fingers resulted from his tight clench on the throne's armrests. He wouldn't give the Amulet up; he couldn't. It was his. He had fought his whole life to maintain the power that was his birthright, and nothing, not even a green-haired Seer Fey, would make him abdicate it.

  “Your Grace.” Jerrus's voice in the hall brought Sebastian's head up with a jerk. The Commander stood at the far end. He bowed low. “I bring word that your nephew and the maid with him have arrived and are even now in the courtyard with my soldiers.”

  “A maid? What maid?”

  “A native Lismarian, Your Grace. Before she'd escaped in the Battle at ClarenVale, she had been a lady's maid for Lianna Erlane.”

  Sebastian rubbed his bearded jaw. “If she was found in my nephew's company, she does not deserve to live. You will hang her with the others.”

  Jerrus bowed.

  Sebastian asked, “Have you had word of my niece?”

  “Not yet, Your Grace, but Mautach and our spies have been watching for her. Kinna left the Sand Flats, heading south. It will not be much longer. I will bring word as soon as she arrives.”

  “Very well.” Sebastian relaxed his hold on his throne's armrests. “Keep Cedric in the courtyard until I come. In the meantime, send me Brughale.”