Curse of Stolen Flame (Firebird, #1)

CHAPTER 31

Fire was everywhere.

But it wasn’t just regular fire of the orange, yellow and red variety—it was green. And blue. And purple.

The firecrackers had been set off, as well as whatever other explosives had been planted on the cart, so not only was the square wrought with the screams of terrified, injured civilians, but also the constant pop pop pop as they detonated.

Kindra’s vision refocused slowly, her ears still ringing. She and Jasper had been thrown several yards by the explosion. She groaned, pulling herself unsteadily to her feet. Quickly, she checked herself for injuries. Her dress was torn, and she had a few nasty scrapes on her arms and cheek, but she was otherwise unharmed.

The same could not be said for many of the people around her.

Kindra swayed on her feet as horror washed over her. The people who had been standing right next to the cart were dead. Some bodies were scattered in chunks, others were little more than a splatter of blood and organs.

There were children amongst those bodies. Children—

She stumbled backwards, nausea overwhelming her. She turned and retched, vomiting up the ale and food she’d consumed onto the bloodied, rubble-splattered cobblestones.

But where was Jasper?

Sheer, ice-cold panic coursed through her veins. She spun in a circle, desperately trying to find him among the chaos, among the bodies.

“Jas—Jasper,” she croaked, then screamed. “Jasper! ”

“Kindra!” A voice she knew responded—but it wasn’t Jasper. It was Emeline. Her yellow dress was dirtied and torn, but she and Helena, who was clinging to her, were alive.

“Jasper,” Kindra repeated as her hearing slowly returned to her, “I can’t—I can’t find him—”

“They’ll find him, Kindra.” Emeline was shockingly calm in the face of a crisis. Her voice was firm—tight, but firm. “But you need to help put out the fires.”

“Put out—put out the fires…” Kindra spun around again, taking in the destruction, and yes—the fire. The rainbow of fire, burning up the tables, the stalls, the people.

She moved without thinking. Her instinct to protect could not be quelled even when she was in intense shock. She ran towards the fire, reaching out with her hands and killing the flames foot by foot, yard by yard. Kindra extinguished burning furniture, burning people. Dimly, she was aware of other Firefuries at her side: Tess, some civilians, another guardsman.

There was the sound of water swelling, and Kindra looked to see Emeline, Heinrich beside her, lifting the water from the fountain and raining it down on the fire that remained.

For a moment, there was only the sound of still-sizzling wood, the drip of water, and the final pop of the last firecracker.

And then the wailing became loud again, the whimpering of the injured and the dying threatening to overwhelm her. She staggered over to an injured child, one of the children who’d been dancing with her just minutes ago. A little boy, half his face slick with blood, eyes wide with pain and fear.

“Healer!” she shouted, kneeling down beside him, using her bare hands to try to stop the bleeding from a gash in his neck, flesh ripped open by a chunk of debris. “I need a Healer!”

But they needed Healers everywhere, because there were dying people everywhere, and there was only a handful of Healers present, and they were already busy. Distantly, she heard the city bells ringing, some kind of alarm.

“More Healers are coming,” she told the child, who was drawing in short, rapid gasps. “They’ll be here soon.”

The boy could only look at her. He tried to speak, but the blood from his wound was gushing faster, flowing thick and hot between her fingers. There was nothing she could do—nothing even a Healer could do at this point. Tears blurred her vision.

“Thank you for dancing with me,” Kindra whispered as she felt his pulse slow and then stop. “I’m so sorry.”

She remained frozen at his side for several seconds. Then—

Jasper.

Where was Jasper?

Kindra scrambled upright, panic threatening to steal the air from her lungs, but she fought through it. “Jasper!” she screamed, voice breaking. “Jasper!”

Across the square, more of the City Guard were arriving. Among them were several Healers, and they ran towards bodies, hands glowing. Some they knelt by only to rise and away from within seconds—they’d been too late. But they were able to save others.

Kindra spotted Tess again, who was helping another guardsman lift an overturned, half-burnt table off of young woman. A Healer appeared, lunging for her as soon as the table was out of the way.

Tess ran over to her. “Are you okay?”

“Jasper—I can’t f-find him,” was all Kindra could say between high, shallow breaths. “He was right next to me when the c-cart expl-exploded.”

“They may have already found him. He may be on his way back to the castle right now. Helena just left—maybe he’s with her.”

Kindra shook her head rapidly. “No, no, you don’t understand. I didn’t see him . I didn’t see him, Tess, I don’t know where he is —”

She stopped herself mid-sentence when she saw him.

Not Jasper.

But the man who had been at the cart, who’d been watching her.

Kindra thought she’d felt rage before. She considered herself well-acquainted with the feeling. But what she’d felt before was nothing like the hot, murderous fury that rushed through her now.

“ You ,” she snarled, already running towards him. “ You did this !”

A shout, and then footsteps pounded behind her: Tess was following.

The man smiled—he smiled —and took off, sprinting down the street. He took a hard right down an alley. Kindra was right on his heels, only seconds behind, but when she turned down the same alley, it was dark and empty .

“Where are you?” she shrieked. She wrapped her hands in fire, stalking into the darkness.

But he was gone, which made no sense, because the alley was a dead end, so there was no where he could’ve gone.

“Looking for someone?”

Kindra spun and saw a dark-haired woman, clad in black, step out of the shadows as if she’d materialized from thin air.

“Who are you,” Kindra demanded, and the woman tsked.

“So rude. Is that really the first impression you want to make?”

“You’re part of this too, aren’t you? You fucking monster, you killed children —”

“Pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it? An Alverinian angry about the murder of children.” The woman raised her hand and a long, curved dagger, the blade black as night, was birthed from the shadows around her.

The woman before her was a Shadowmaster.

Where is Tess? Kindra thought, realizing that she was trapped in a dead-end alley with one of the most dangerous Wielders in existence.

“You weren’t crying when it was Pryllian children. Or Breyen children. Or Laou children,” she continued, another dagger forming in her other hand. Her eyes were pitch black, and as she wielded, the darkness exploded past the iris and swirled over the rest of her eyes.

“Those people had nothing to do with the crimes the Annalindis family has committed. I don’t have anything to do with it.”

“Don’t you, though?” Kindra blinked and the woman was gone, having vanished into nothing. Then she felt a presence at her back, and there was a bone-chilling whisper in her ear, “ Cursebreaker .”

Kindra knew when it was time to run rather than fight.

This was one of those times. She bolted towards the end of the alley now that the way was clear. But she made it only a few steps before the Shadowmaster was in front of her again, body trailing black shadows.

“You should know better than to walk down a dark alley by yourself, little firebird.” She stalked towards her, dragging her blades across the brick walls, the metal sparking against the stone.

And in that moment, as her back hit the wall behind her, Kindra accepted that she was going to die. There was nothing she could do here, not against someone as powerful and deadly as a Shadowmaster. Still, she rallied her magic, readying herself for her final stand.

“Cornering people in an alley, Vylie? Really?” Tess’s voice was such a welcome relief Kindra almost burst into tears, even as she tried to process that Tess knew the Shadowmaster’s name. “That’s contemptible and low, even for you.”

Vylie hissed, coming to a halt and spinning on her heels to face the Firefury standing at the entrance to the alley. “I can always count on you to ruin my fun, Tess.” Her words dripped with venom.

“Yes, I am so sorry I keep preventing you from murdering people.” Tess was striding towards them now, flames snaking their way up and down her armor. In the low light, her burns looked more severe than they actually were. “Now please leave Kindra alone.”

“You got what you came for,” Tess continued, speaking slowly and carefully, when Vylie didn’t move. “You’ve started your war. That’s enough for today, don’t you think? All that needs to be done, right?” It was strange, watching Tess speak to a deadly Shadowmaster the way one might speak to a frightened animal. Kindra couldn’t quite comprehend it.

Vylie bared her teeth. Tess stopped, holding her arms out as if in compromise. “Don’t be stupid,” she warned. “You know you can’t possibly take us both.”

The Shadowmaster hesitated, then looked back at Kindra. Teeth still bared, she twisted her lips up in a terrifying smile. “You’ve got a lot of eyes on you now, cursebreaker. I’d be careful if I were you.”

And then she was gone.

Tess grabbed Kindra by the arm and dragged her out of the alley. Only when they were back in the sunlight and near other guards did she stop moving.

“I thought you were right behind me—” Kindra began, and Tess shook her head.

“I lost you, for a moment. You took off so fast, and there was so much happening. I’m sorry. That was my fault.”

Kindra almost questioned her; she’d run in a straight shot after the man, and she could’ve sworn she’d heard Tess right behind her. She almost asked how Tess knew who Vylie was, but then Tess spoke again .

“They found Jasper. He’s alive, but he had a pretty serious injury to his side. They’ve taken him back to the castle—” Kindra started to run, but Tess still held her arm. “I’ll get my horse, okay?”

Kindra managed a nod. Within a few minutes, they were galloping through the streets.

As they neared the castle, Kindra could think of nothing but Jasper. He was alive. He was hurt, but alive. She could think of nothing but him and the cold fear she’d felt when she thought he was dead.

No room in her head for anything else, she told herself, pushing out the images of dead bodies and burning flesh.

Pushing out the sound of Vylie calling her firebird , and the distant memory of the last time somebody called her the same.