The crowd around me erupts into a deafening roar as the massive being prances out from behind a curtain of flames. It is none other than the legendary fire mare, an ancient creature forged by flame throughout its body.
Shit.
Of course she would throw me in here with the one that can burn people to ash.
Rule number one of surviving Azure, don’t piss off the Queen.
CHAPTER 1
BEFORE THE STONES
“The true Queen, her hair as dark as the night. Her eyes, warm like the sun, and the markings of the five realms among her skin. Her skin, scorched from the God of Fire. Darkness will try and consume her. Fire shall scorch her alive if the Prophecy is not fulfilled.” - Book of Azure
MY EYES FLICKER, TRYING TO see through my blurred vision.
Sleep has been nothing but pain, from the chilly night air to the rocks that dig at our hips under our tent. But the stars burn brighter than ever here within the mountains. No city lights to dim their beauty.
Alice's blonde curls sway in front of her freckled cheeks. A slight grin tugs along her rosy lips. I try to pull the blanket up to cover my face and groggily roll over.
I feel a weight on my side as her arms pull the blanket off of me, and my eyebrows furrow. A few more seconds of sleep is all I need. But the smell of coffee begins to tickle my nose, and I open my eyes to see her face hovering even closer now above mine. Her grip on my shoulder tightens as she shakes me awake, her laughter filling the small tent. The early morning light casts a golden glow on her features, highlighting the deep creases around her dimpled smile and the wrinkles on her nose.
It’s morning. I dread sleep. I dread the night. But I also dread the sun.
“We are close, Serene!” Alice hops over me, climbing into the next sleeping bag as she holds a metal jug for me. “I can feel it in my bones!” She jumps up, bouncing on her toes as she does a victory dance.
I reluctantly leave my warm spot and grab the jug. The heat beats against my cold palms. The wind whistles around, and the tent sways back and forth like a slender tree branch. The weather is getting worse. My skin prickles with goosebumps as the temperature drops at a rapid pace. My once moistened lips are now drying. The water I drink isn’t preventing them from cracking. The bones inside me ache with each small, sudden movement.
Damn it. We shouldn’t have left Seattle.
“I don’t know if we are.” I reach to my side of the tent, terrorizing the papers that lay beside me, shuffling them until I find the map. “Look, we are here. My father told me this is where she vanished.” My voice cracks.
I grunt while I force the tears to stay in. I clear my throat, grinding my teeth tightly, forcing any emotions to stay hidden, but the pain of losing my sister is undeniable. I lay out the map,pointing to where we are and then tracing along the valleys and mountains to where she was last seen. Tilly, short for Tileatha, vanished here in these snowy mountains where she camped a few weeks back. Leaving my father and me questioning if her heart is still beating, but this force is pulling me towards where she left us, as if she might still be alive.
She has to still be alive.
“No service still.” Alice stands up, holding her phone high in our tent. Her finger continuously taps on the screen as if that will change anything. We haven’t had service for a few days now, and I worry this happened to Tilly as well.
“I know. Let’s hope my father isn’t too concerned.” I gather up our maps and gear, dragging my wavy, midnight hair behind my ears.
“Your father is not worried about you. You areSerene Quinnell. Nothing ever gets in your way.” Alice walks over to me, putting her hands on my shoulders. “We got this. We will find her. If anyone can, it’s you.”
I sigh at her optimism and feel a sense of irritation run rapidly through my core.
My mind doesn’t work like Alice’s. It never has. We have always been complete opposites. She sees the light at the end of the tunnel, but I know that sometimes pure darkness lives in this world—not everything has a happy ending.
Light flurries fall this dawn, with the hope of clearer views for the trail that awaits us. Most mornings, the snow felt as if it were pouring rain, the trees blocking the rays of the sun, making each step we take a risk to slip. Honestly, I’m unsure how we have even survived this trip so far. My body tenses, knowing something is brewing in the clouds above as I watch them roll like waves, transitioning from a soft, white hue to a dark, midnight black. A storm is coming. Just as it does every morning on this journey. We must get on the trail as soon as possible.
The wind starts to whistle outside. No birds sing this morning.
My palms push against the stiff ground beneath me, and I take a deep breath as I push my waist-length messy hair out of my face by throwing it up into a high bun with my cream, silk headband. Some of my midnight strands wave around my face as I prepare myself emotionally for the outcome I fear awaits us.
I cannot see her dead. I won’t make it.
Hewon’t make it. We’ve always been the Quinnell trio: Father, Tilly, and I. Alice is a bonus sister we gained once her father passed away when she was twelve. But she always felt like a sister far before that. I knew we were meant to be friends the day we met. She pushed down the boy who kicked sand in my face. I would have done it, but she beat me to it.
From then on, it was the three of us.
ALICE AND TILLY ARE SHOULDER to shoulder, snuggling with a thick, cream-knitted blanket while the fire flickers in the middle. Tonight is much colder than expected.
