I guess there’s no point indenying it.
“I am.”
Kaiba raises his gaze to mine as he says, “I understand how important she is, but we need you here, Maxim.”
My scowl is instant. “You need me far away from the living.”
“Not true.” Kaiba shakes his head emphatically. “The Iron Fae we captured… His name is Riven. He delivered alarming news.”
I didn’t know the prisoner’s name until this moment, but I gave Antony my word I’d keep him safe and unharmed.
“What news?”
“Riven told us that right before the darkness hit the tower he was guarding, an Iron Fae assassin arrived. One of his own people. Riven came upon him murdering one of his comrades, for which Riven took quick revenge.”
The back of my neck prickles. I witnessed a similar murder on my way through the bloodlands.
“Before the assassin died, he gleefully volunteered that he was sent by Antony’s youngest brother, Hadrian.”
I nod. “Hadrian controls iron dust.”
Kaiba jolts. “You knew?”
“Only since last night.” I scratch my chin in thought. “So Hadrian is taking out as many of his brother’s loyal soldiers as he can.”
No doubt sending assassins to each of the Iron Towers.
“I may not give a fuck about Iron Fae,” Kaiba says, his voice becoming a snarl, “but if iron dust were to get into the sand, we’d never get it out. It would swirl in the hot breezes. It would spread across Ember. You may have a chance of burning any iron that might enter your lungs, but we don’t. Our people would choke on it, Maxim. They’d bleed from the inside out. Our land would run with blood.”
He’s on his feet now, his impassioned speech hitting mehard, but not only because of the horrific possibilities he’s describing.
Iron dust and blood.
Four days ago, Thyra told me to wait.
She instructed me when to come for her. At the time, I didn’t understand the events she was describing, but one part of her command was clear: I was to come for her then and not before.
“Fuck.” I jolt as the memory of her voice echoes back to me.
Come for me when the sun turns bitterly cold, and the sand bleeds iron. Come for me only then. Not before.
She wasn’t stalling.
She was warning me.
Four days ago.
I’ve had four fucking days to figure out the riddle in her words, and instead, I spent that time defying her. Chasing after her. Obsessed with taking control of her.
When the sand bleeds iron.
“Every granule would become toxic.” I can’t stop the dangerous surge of my fierce fire, triggered by my fury that a horror like that could become possible.
Hadrian could attack at any point along the wide border between Iron and Ember. He could attack many points at once.
I don’t know what Thyra meant when she spoke of the sun turning cold. That would seem an impossibility in the Ember Kingdom. But the second part of her warning is now very fucking clear to me.
I can’t abandon my people. Not if my fire could be the defense they need.
