We turn to find Cole walking towards us. I say walking, but perhapsstaggeringwould be more accurate, for he is clearly incredibly drunk. He sways to a stop, a cruel smile spreading across his face as he sinks unsteadily into a low, mocking bow.
‘The Heirs,’ he says, his voice slurred. ‘What an honour it is to stand in your presence.’
Elaith’s shoulders curve inwards, and I move to stand beside her.
‘Cole.’ Flint nods coolly. ‘Been a while.’
‘Flint Flameborn,’ says Cole slowly. ‘The pride of his House. Nephew to the Fire Queen. How very …convenientfor you.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Spinner’s eyeing Cole as though he were something unpleasant she’d scraped off the bottom of her sparkly gold heels.
‘Let’s just go, all right?’ Elaith says quietly.
Cole turns to her, reaching out and tilting her chin up so that she has no choice but to look at him. ‘What’s the matter, Elaith? I must say, I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you following me around like a dog looking for scraps.’
Elaith’s face crumples.
The words are out before I can yank them back. ‘Leave her alone.’
‘There she is,’ Cole says, letting go of Elaith and turning to me. ‘Ostacre’s favourite little freak.’
‘That’s enough,’ snaps Flint. ‘Get lost, Cole.’
But Cole pays him no heed, stepping closer still until I cansmell the soured spirits on his breath. ‘I’ve often wondered, Blaze,’ he says, ‘how does it feel to always be the mostloathsomeperson in the room?’
I look at Cole, and I can hear Ember in his voice. I find Fjord in the curl of his lip. I see a pair of blood-red eyes lurking just beneath the surface of his own, waiting for a sign of weakness. His words land with all the force he intended, but this time, I don’t flinch.
‘You tell me,’ I say. ‘It seems I may have been bumped to second place on this occasion. So congratulations, Cole. You’ve finally managed to win at something.’
Spinner snorts. Even Elaith bites her lip.
‘You have no idea who you’re dealing with,’ Cole hisses.
I raise an eyebrow. ‘Don’t I? Well, why don’t you enlighten me?’
Cole opens his mouth to respond, but no words are forthcoming, only gargled, choking sounds. He clutches at his neck, bleary eyes widening in shock as he realizes what I’ve done. As he realizes that his tongue is now frozen to the roof of his mouth.
He tries to speak, to scream. But he can’t.
Many of the Etheri have turned to watch, sniggering as Cole claws at his tongue, attempting to pull it free.
I thought it would be appalling, hurting someone like this. It ought to be. But if anything, it feelspowerful.Almost intoxicating. There’s a sense of justice to it – tormenting the tormentor. Watching him suffer the consequences.
With one last murderous look at me, Cole turns and stumbles from the room. Through the sea of drunken revellers, a pair of eyes finds mine.
The Earth Cleaver is grinning. There is no surprise written across his features, only amusement. Amusement and satisfaction and something else, something like …pride.
All triumph drains out of me.
In my head I see Fjord, humiliated, strung up by vines. I see Fox standing below him, smiling as a crowd watches on, horrified, transfixed.
I can hear his voice, clinging to the corners of my mind.
Where others look, I see. And I see you, Storm Weaver. I see all of you.
I kept wondering what it was he saw when he looked at me.
Now I think I have my answer.
