political adversary too. As Fire Warden, he controlled the flow of Fire through the mountain, and they believed he wanted to keep power out of their hands by spreading it thin, leaving it diluted and unthreatening. But now that the Ruminors’ desire for power and revenge had taken a dangerous turn, had Dara found herself on Zage’s side after all?
She had questioned why her parents went after King Sevren before directly challenging the Fire Warden. She suspected it wouldn’t have been enough for them to simply kill him. They would want to obliterate him. They’d demand a public denunciation of his crime, the justice they hadn’t received ten years ago. And they wanted a new ruler, one who wouldn’t try to keep their powers in check. In that, they had failed. For now.
Dara was sure they would try again. The Ruminors wanted revenge. They wanted change. They wanted a revolution. Dara had vowed to stand in their way. She missed her sister as much as they did, but taking down the Fire Warden and every Amintelle on the mountain would not bring her back. She would do whatever it took to avert her parents’ murderous ambitions, even if that meant working alongside Zage Lorrid.
Dara’s door creaked as she returned to her room to prepare for her evening jaunt with Berg. The room was austere, with two raised cots, a small wooden table, a stone washbasin, and a few shelves for her possessions. A handful of dueling tokens, a necklace of mismatched Fire-forged beads, and the medal she had won in the Square Tourney last year were the only keepsakes she had brought to the castle. She forced down the memory of her mother screaming vitriol at her as she left her childhood home behind.
She pulled off her boots, which were still shiny and new, and sat on her cot to rub her feet. She’d switch to her old clothes for the midnight excursion. She wouldn’t want anyone to recognize a Castle Guard snooping around whatever Berg planned to show her.
Dara’s dueling gear sat unused in the corner. She avoided looking at it as much as possible. She could keep competing on Turndays when Pool hired more Castle Guards, but it would be terrible to go to tournaments and see her rivals outstripping her because they trained more. Dueling was an all-or-nothing game, and Dara had decided to give her all to another cause.
She wished she felt more confident that it had been the right decision. Did she really have a place in the castle, especially now that the king was entertaining his possible future wife?
The reminder was like a blow to the stomach. She shrugged it off and unwound her braid, running an ebony comb through her golden tresses. She had to keep her focus, just like in a competition. If Berg revealed some useful insight tonight, she might be able to stop her parents and whoever else was plotting against Siv. His troubles likely ran deeper than the Fireworkers. Maybe her parents were only the beginning.
A knock sounded at her door, making Dara jump. She tossed her comb on the bed and opened the door. The young guard she’d met the other day was raising his fist to knock again.
“Hello,” Dara said. “Telvin, right?”
“Dara.” He gave a slight bow, almost a salute. “Would you like to have a drink in town this evening?
“With the other guardsmen?” she asked.
“No, just with me.”
“Oh, um, thank you,” Dara said, surprised at the directness of the offer. “I have business over on Square tonight.” She started to shut the door then caught sight of the eastern tower rising behind Telvin. She couldn’t quite see the glass parlor at this angle, but she could picture it—and the romantic table setting—well enough. She surprised herself by pulling back the door and calling out to Telvin before he walked away. “Actually, I have time beforehand if you don’t mind getting some food too. I’m starving.”
“Great,” Telvin said. “Are you ready now?”
“Give me five minutes,” Dara said. “I’ll meet you by
She had questioned why her parents went after King Sevren before directly challenging the Fire Warden. She suspected it wouldn’t have been enough for them to simply kill him. They would want to obliterate him. They’d demand a public denunciation of his crime, the justice they hadn’t received ten years ago. And they wanted a new ruler, one who wouldn’t try to keep their powers in check. In that, they had failed. For now.
Dara was sure they would try again. The Ruminors wanted revenge. They wanted change. They wanted a revolution. Dara had vowed to stand in their way. She missed her sister as much as they did, but taking down the Fire Warden and every Amintelle on the mountain would not bring her back. She would do whatever it took to avert her parents’ murderous ambitions, even if that meant working alongside Zage Lorrid.
Dara’s door creaked as she returned to her room to prepare for her evening jaunt with Berg. The room was austere, with two raised cots, a small wooden table, a stone washbasin, and a few shelves for her possessions. A handful of dueling tokens, a necklace of mismatched Fire-forged beads, and the medal she had won in the Square Tourney last year were the only keepsakes she had brought to the castle. She forced down the memory of her mother screaming vitriol at her as she left her childhood home behind.
She pulled off her boots, which were still shiny and new, and sat on her cot to rub her feet. She’d switch to her old clothes for the midnight excursion. She wouldn’t want anyone to recognize a Castle Guard snooping around whatever Berg planned to show her.
Dara’s dueling gear sat unused in the corner. She avoided looking at it as much as possible. She could keep competing on Turndays when Pool hired more Castle Guards, but it would be terrible to go to tournaments and see her rivals outstripping her because they trained more. Dueling was an all-or-nothing game, and Dara had decided to give her all to another cause.
She wished she felt more confident that it had been the right decision. Did she really have a place in the castle, especially now that the king was entertaining his possible future wife?
The reminder was like a blow to the stomach. She shrugged it off and unwound her braid, running an ebony comb through her golden tresses. She had to keep her focus, just like in a competition. If Berg revealed some useful insight tonight, she might be able to stop her parents and whoever else was plotting against Siv. His troubles likely ran deeper than the Fireworkers. Maybe her parents were only the beginning.
A knock sounded at her door, making Dara jump. She tossed her comb on the bed and opened the door. The young guard she’d met the other day was raising his fist to knock again.
“Hello,” Dara said. “Telvin, right?”
“Dara.” He gave a slight bow, almost a salute. “Would you like to have a drink in town this evening?
“With the other guardsmen?” she asked.
“No, just with me.”
“Oh, um, thank you,” Dara said, surprised at the directness of the offer. “I have business over on Square tonight.” She started to shut the door then caught sight of the eastern tower rising behind Telvin. She couldn’t quite see the glass parlor at this angle, but she could picture it—and the romantic table setting—well enough. She surprised herself by pulling back the door and calling out to Telvin before he walked away. “Actually, I have time beforehand if you don’t mind getting some food too. I’m starving.”
“Great,” Telvin said. “Are you ready now?”
“Give me five minutes,” Dara said. “I’ll meet you by
Similar Books
