‘Blaze,’ Spinner whispers. ‘You’re cutting off my circulation.’
‘Sorry,’ I say, letting go of her.
A moment later Flint’s tunic catches fire, but no sooner have I clutched hold of Spinner again than he has extinguished it, sending a flame back at Ember, which singes a lock of her hair clean off. I watch as her smile falters, and then drops.
That was it, I realize. That is all it took for Ember to snap.
Suddenly Flint is surrounded by a wall of fire. Yet I barely have time to scream before he breaks through, sending the blazing tongues of flame rushing full force back towards Ember. But she’s ready for them and flicks her wrist.
The heads of the spectators jerk up to watch the flames take to the sky, burning hotter and brighter than ever before – and then come raining down as fire bombs.
Shrieks fill the air as they hit the ground, scorching the grass, bursting outwards and engulfing one another until the entire amphitheatre seems to be devoured by flame.
‘Flint!’
Spinner claps a hand over my mouth, her eyes wide and frightened as she takes in the scene. Then she points. ‘There!’
He’s standing in a small clearing, the flames around him dying down, receding at his will. But with every fire he puts out, another springs up in its place, and I can tell just bylooking at his face that it’s exhausting him. Sweat beads on his forehead as Ember advances, flames flickering at her fingertips, mouth curved in a triumphant smile.
I think about her rigorous training schedule. Her hatred of being overshadowed. Her compulsive need to come out on top. And I think about my brother, staying out all night, doing as he pleased, so confident in his own power as to underestimate hers. It was all just one big party to him, the Choosing Rite. He never saw Ember as a threat.
‘Flint!’ I scream again, but he can’t hear me over the noise of the crowd.
Then Ember claps her hands together, the sound echoing around the stands. At once the flames are extinguished. All that remains is the smoking, blackened ground, and my brother, who falls to his knees upon it, his body wracked with coughs. The tears from his streaming eyes cut vertical tracks through the soot on his face. My heart clenches.
Ember skips towards him and Flint struggles to his feet, bracing himself for attack. The crowd falls silent, waiting. She’s so close to him now and so tiny in comparison. It’s easy to forget sometimes that she’s only fifteen years old.
Ember reaches out and lays a hand on Flint’s arm. ‘Worry not, cousin. I accept your surrender just as I will accept your fealty.’
Flint stares down at her, his shoulders heaving as he pants.
‘Though it is a pity,’ Ember says with a sigh. ‘It seems you’re just as pathetic as your sister.’
Flint’s expression changes in a split second, his eyes blazing with rage as Ember smirks, turns and walks awayfrom him. A ball of flame forms in his outstretched palm and he hurls it with all his might at her retreating back.
I watch, helpless, horrified, as Ember spins round with impossible speed and catches the fire, as she flings it back at Flint, as it soars gracefully through the air.
And hits him in the face.
45
Apair of hands drags me through the frenzied crowd.
I’m half screaming, half sobbing, trying frantically to break free, to push my way through the sea of bodies and reach my brother. But instead I’m pulled away and shoved inside a golden tent, landing on a pile of red-silk cushions.
Moments later a team of physicians bursts in. They carry a stretcher between them, but there’s so many people obstructing my view that I can’t see Flint properly, only an arm here, a leg there, a shock of dark curls. The physicians rifle through leather bags for supplies, soaking bandages, and shouting instructions at one another as they crowd round the limp figure on the stretcher. I dart forward, but then Grandmother and River are there, holding me back.
That’s when Sheen appears beside me, his violet eyes wild. ‘Is … is he …’
Spinner takes his hand. ‘He’ll be all right. He’ll be all right, won’t he?’ She glances around, but nobody answers her.
I try again to get to Flint, but a physician blocks my way. ‘Everybodyout,’ he demands.
Grandmother turns on him, tapping her stick angrily.‘You forget who you’re speaking to, young man. I am the mother of the Fire Queen and that ismygrands–’
Then I hear it, announced loud and clear above the din. My name.
Every bone seems to crumble to dust inside my body. I wonder at how I’m still standing and realize that River is holding me up.
