‘Blaze.Blaze. Come on, I’m kidding.’ Flint prizes my fingers apart.
I relent, reaching out and taking a cautious sip of mango juice, half expecting it to freeze and the cup to shatter into pieces.
‘What waswithyou last night?’ Flint demands. ‘Hiding from the emperor, speaking to Queen Hydra, dancing with theCrown Prince –’
My heart gives a sudden jolt at the memory of Prince Haldyn, of his raven eyes alight with curiosity, his cool hands pressed gently to the small of my back.
‘And why didn’t you tell me you could make ice?’ Flint persists. ‘Did you know?’
Renly sits up straight, interested. ‘What?’
Flint pulls Ren’s nightshirt over his head. I pull it back down again.
‘No, I didn’t know, and I don’t know how I did it.I just …’ I think of Ember’s cruel words, the cold fury that lanced through me. ‘I couldn’t control it.’
Flint huffs a laugh. ‘I’ll say.’
‘What happened afterwards?’ I ask.
‘After Grandmother frog-marched you away, you mean? I won’t lie, it was uncomfortable. No one seemed quite sure what to do.’ He leans back on his elbows. ‘I made the rounds for a bit, apologizing and things.’
I feel a dull ache of shame that my brother was forced to apologize for me.Aboutme. The shame doubles when I notice that there’s still some glass in his hair.
‘Then Grandmother reappeared and had the attendants clear the ballroom,’ Flint continues, as I pick out the shards one by one. ‘King Balen made some joke about Harglade women and said how Grandmother’s parties have always been eventful. You must have made quite the impression, by the way. He asked me to pass on his regards.’
A shiver runs through me. I hear the Ventalla King’s voice in my head, as soft as silk.
Such a beautiful little thing. Tell me, how does one so pure sing a song of such destruction?
I swallow, my throat tight. Only then do I realize that Flint is still wearing his doublet. I nudge him in the chest with my foot. ‘Have you even slept?’
He catches hold of my ankle. ‘Who needs sleep? It wouldn’t do for both honourees to abandon their guests, and besides, I live to entertain.’
‘You mean there’s still people here?’ I say incredulously. ‘But it’smorning.’
‘Trust me, this is nothing. At court, parties can last days,weeks even.’ My brother laughs at the expression on my face. ‘I know something that’ll cheer you up,’ he says, pulling a small, badly wrapped parcel out of his pocket. ‘Here, catch.’
My Name Day present. I tear off the paper, and a tiny pearl-encrusted box falls into my lap. When I open it up, music begins to play, sweet and lilting. Smiling, I lean over and plant a kiss on Flint’s cheek, which he pretends to wipe off in disgust.
Suddenly, without warning, the sky begins to darken. Shadows flood the city, swallowing the tinkling music. They climb up the sides of buildings, elongating themselves and merging together as they spread out across Valburn and beyond. Flint springs to his feet as though preparing for a fight. Bewildered, I follow his gaze upward, watching as the sun is obscured by the moon, partly at first, then completely, drenching us in gloom.
Silence sweeps over everything, ringing in my ears. My lungs feel compressed, smothered by the stillness.
An eclipse. It’s an eclipse. And that means only one thing. I take a deep breath, steadying myself as the realization hits me.
When the Gods send an eclipse, it’s a signal, a call for change, for the next emperor’s reign to begin and a new Crowned Council to govern each of the four Crown Courts.
A new Council, a new era, a new Choosing Rite. The promise of power and the preservation of youth. Emperor Alvar, King Balen and the three queens are all nearing middle age, after all. It was always going to happen sooner or later,just as it has time and time before. But watching history unfold feels very different from reading about it.
I reach out through the darkness for Ren, needing something to hold on to.
That’s when the world erupts.
The torches in the courtyard below spring to life. The wind begins to howl, whipping up our hair, our clothes. The earth trembles and quakes beneath us and I feel it in my bones. And I don’t have to see it to know that the usually glass-still surface of the Creek is churning.
Renly clutches me tightly, burying his face in my neck as the elements unleash themselves upon the world.
I don’t know how long it lasts. Minutes. Hours. I can’t be sure.
