instead of smoke.
“We’ve been over this.” And over it, but he couldn’t dissuade me. I wanted the Flame Lord to know how easily I could get to him. Last night’s slip-up had become an opportunity. “The interrogation loses its punch otherwise.”
“This isn’t an interrogation.” James leaned closer. “Come on, this is the Lord of Flames.”
“Is the fancy title supposed to impress me? His Grace, Archbishop of Radiant Matter and Lord of Flames.” I rolled my eyes. “Some newsman came up with the archbishop thing as a joke. He thought radiant matter sounded like a religious term.” I snorted.
“Radiant matter?”
“The original name for the plasma phenomena.”
James frowned at me. “You have no respect for the powerful.”
His comment sent of bolt of fury right through me. “Because I’m a magicless human?”
“That’s not what I meant. Don’t put words in my mouth.” He ran a hand over his face. “The point is the guy can ignite anything—you included. If he’s responsible for the Alchemica’s destruction, he’s not going to be pleased to see you.”
“I’ve got it covered.” Through the door, I caught a glimpse of a man in black livery moving our way. “Trust me.” I gripped his forearm and gave it a squeeze.
James didn’t look convinced, but he’d run out of time to argue. The servant stepped into the room and gestured for us to follow. I stood straighter, my pulse accelerating in anticipation of the coming confrontation. Alchemist versus Element. Maybe I did lack the sense to respect power. We’d see.
The servant led us down a long corridor decorated in gray banners. Each banner bore its corresponding symbol in red, blue, yellow, and green—like the designs on the glasses. Tacky. The oak-paneled walls and stone-tiled floors needed no further embellishment to declare the Elements a class above the rest of us.
The servant opened a set of double doors and stepped inside. Double doors? I glanced up at James and rolled my eyes. It wasn’t like the Flame Lord couldn’t fit through a regular door. I knew that much about the man. Though, that’s where my knowledge ended. The guy went around cloaked in those robes, hood up and face in shadow. Photographers always swarmed whenever he made an appearance, hoping for a shot of his face. But two could play that game. My hood hid my features. A subtle jab at His Grace, but also a precaution against running into Rowan, his friendly servant from the night before.
“Your Grace?” The servant stopped a few paces inside the door. “The last petitioners of the morning.” He gestured at James and me.
I stopped beside the servant, my eyes riveted on familiar gray robes hemmed in black triangles. I didn’t hear the Flame Lord answer the man. I lay in the smoldering ruins of the Alchemica again, watching those robes in the flickering light of my burning home.
The doors closed with a click, and I realized the Flame Lord had dismissed his servant. I pulled myself back from the night I lost everything and focused on the man who might be responsible.
He stood before one of several bookcases in the room, an open book in his hands. The room looked more like a library than an office. I’d expected a massive desk, but found an oblong table instead. Several high-backed chairs were arranged around the polished expanse of oak. The Flame Lord stopped beside the chair at the head of the table and laid his book beside it.
“What can I do for you?” He gestured at the other chairs, inviting us to sit.
I took a deep breath. Time to see if I could play with the big boys. “I have a few questions.” I closed the distance between us. “And a gesture of good will.” I could almost hear James groaning behind me. I’d told him about the servant and the glass. Well, not all the details, but enough.
I hadn’t been able to spike the Flame Lord’s glasses the night before, but I now had evidence that I could get close to him. He’d have to
“We’ve been over this.” And over it, but he couldn’t dissuade me. I wanted the Flame Lord to know how easily I could get to him. Last night’s slip-up had become an opportunity. “The interrogation loses its punch otherwise.”
“This isn’t an interrogation.” James leaned closer. “Come on, this is the Lord of Flames.”
“Is the fancy title supposed to impress me? His Grace, Archbishop of Radiant Matter and Lord of Flames.” I rolled my eyes. “Some newsman came up with the archbishop thing as a joke. He thought radiant matter sounded like a religious term.” I snorted.
“Radiant matter?”
“The original name for the plasma phenomena.”
James frowned at me. “You have no respect for the powerful.”
His comment sent of bolt of fury right through me. “Because I’m a magicless human?”
“That’s not what I meant. Don’t put words in my mouth.” He ran a hand over his face. “The point is the guy can ignite anything—you included. If he’s responsible for the Alchemica’s destruction, he’s not going to be pleased to see you.”
“I’ve got it covered.” Through the door, I caught a glimpse of a man in black livery moving our way. “Trust me.” I gripped his forearm and gave it a squeeze.
James didn’t look convinced, but he’d run out of time to argue. The servant stepped into the room and gestured for us to follow. I stood straighter, my pulse accelerating in anticipation of the coming confrontation. Alchemist versus Element. Maybe I did lack the sense to respect power. We’d see.
The servant led us down a long corridor decorated in gray banners. Each banner bore its corresponding symbol in red, blue, yellow, and green—like the designs on the glasses. Tacky. The oak-paneled walls and stone-tiled floors needed no further embellishment to declare the Elements a class above the rest of us.
The servant opened a set of double doors and stepped inside. Double doors? I glanced up at James and rolled my eyes. It wasn’t like the Flame Lord couldn’t fit through a regular door. I knew that much about the man. Though, that’s where my knowledge ended. The guy went around cloaked in those robes, hood up and face in shadow. Photographers always swarmed whenever he made an appearance, hoping for a shot of his face. But two could play that game. My hood hid my features. A subtle jab at His Grace, but also a precaution against running into Rowan, his friendly servant from the night before.
“Your Grace?” The servant stopped a few paces inside the door. “The last petitioners of the morning.” He gestured at James and me.
I stopped beside the servant, my eyes riveted on familiar gray robes hemmed in black triangles. I didn’t hear the Flame Lord answer the man. I lay in the smoldering ruins of the Alchemica again, watching those robes in the flickering light of my burning home.
The doors closed with a click, and I realized the Flame Lord had dismissed his servant. I pulled myself back from the night I lost everything and focused on the man who might be responsible.
He stood before one of several bookcases in the room, an open book in his hands. The room looked more like a library than an office. I’d expected a massive desk, but found an oblong table instead. Several high-backed chairs were arranged around the polished expanse of oak. The Flame Lord stopped beside the chair at the head of the table and laid his book beside it.
“What can I do for you?” He gestured at the other chairs, inviting us to sit.
I took a deep breath. Time to see if I could play with the big boys. “I have a few questions.” I closed the distance between us. “And a gesture of good will.” I could almost hear James groaning behind me. I’d told him about the servant and the glass. Well, not all the details, but enough.
I hadn’t been able to spike the Flame Lord’s glasses the night before, but I now had evidence that I could get close to him. He’d have to
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