Crown of Fire (Book 3 in the Crown Trilogy)

Thirty-One

I breathe past the emotion expanding in my chest and give Greer's arm a squeeze, hoping that the confidence she has transfers to me. Flashing Ashavee a pathetic excuse for a smile, I clench Ashavee's fingers for good measure. These women possess the type of fierce determination I need. If just an ounce of their strength rubs off on me, I can conquer anything.

My hands shake as I remove my cloak and drape it over Nortus' saddle. I run my hand along the soft hair on his neck and whisper, "Wish me luck."

He bristles in a way that makes me feel like he believes in me.

I pull the rogue hairs away from my face and secure them in my leather tie. After tucking my tunic into my breeches, I double-check that my sword is in place at my hip. My boots and jacket get a once over, and I remove my gloves. With nothing left to use as a stall tactic, I lift my chin and face the pillars of rock.

The bones crunch under my feet, a subtle warning that doom awaits. I ignore the sinking feeling in my gut and grip the rock. My first few steps up the stone are easy. I find good hand and foot holds that give me the leverage I need. My focus doesn't stray from what stands right in front of me—porous red rock with the occasional bush sprouting from the cracks. I contain my thoughts into a small box that doesn't expand any further than my reach. Not even the jagged edges of the rocks digging into my palms take my thoughts away from my next step. Each of my movements is purposeful... cautious.

A firm grip.

Climb.

A sloid foothold.

Climb.

The wind picks up, ripping my hair free of its tie. The strands whip around my face, tickling my nose. I dig my nails into the spire and squeeze my eyes shut. Like a temptress, they beckon me to let go and brush them away. I fight the urge, twitching my lips and grasping a stone above my head. It's only an annoyance, but it takes everything in me to ignore it.

I hoist myself up to a narrow ledge. My arms wrap around a boulder, and I hug it. Air fills my lungs and leaves just as quickly. I didn't realize that I was short of breath until I had a second to catch it. The burn in my muscles has me gritting my teeth. All the things my father taught me about surviving in the wilderness and never did he touch base on mountain climbing. I rest my cheek on the cold stone and brush my itching nose against my shoulder. The urge to look around is nonexistent. I don't care about how far I've come or what remains of my journey to the temple. The only things that matter are that I've made it this far and I've not reached the end.

When my heart slows and I feel somewhat normal, I stand on my tiptoes and stretch my fingers for a knot of rock. My boots slip from under me. Stone clacks against stone. The sharp edges cut across my chest, slicing through my tunic as I slide down. My fear leaves me in a scream, and I scramble to find purchase again. Shouts sound below, begging me to hang on. I grip a sparse bush with one hand. Its thorns bite into my fingers, but I don't dare let go. My body sways like a flag in the wind as I dangle from one arm. Tears blur my vision, but it does nothing to skew the sight far beneath me.

Greer and Ashavee are nothing but small blotches below—tiny insects whose cries are muffled by the wind.

I should turn around and concede to the red rock. If I can even find a way to climb back down. I wasn't made for this kind of activity. Perhaps those who attempted this climb before me felt the same way. Maybe it was easier to let go. Then again, I doubt any of them had an entire kingdom relying on them to harness the powers of the Imperium.

I fight back a sob and struggle to get my feet under me. My free hand searches for a better grip as the other grows slick with blood. Despite the pain, I squeeze the branch and pivot, swinging my body. It takes several attempts before my fingertips cling to something substantial. With quaking arms and legs, I begin my climb again.

The thoughts of how high I am scurry into the dark recesses of my mind. I fill the newly empty space with all the reasons Greer and Ashavee gave me to climb to the heavens. I picture Mama and Papa sharing evening meals with me and my siblings at our family home. Rowan, Salone, Ansley, and I sit at Papa's feet as he tells us stories of faraway kingdoms and adventures unlike anything found in this world. Mama smiles as she works on her needlepoint, shaking her head when we react to a particularly unbelievable moment in his wild tale. My mind flashes to Leif and I laying in the wheat fields at night. We stare up at the twinkling stars, exchanging the kind of secrets that best friends take to their graves. We go doe-eyed as we talk about the people we love and all the experiences we dream of having. I see my people free and striving toward a society where everyone is equally valued. But it is the last daydream that has my arms and legs moving a little faster.

Kyron.

My future with him waits at the end of this climb. I want to exchange vows before the Statera with our family and friends watching. Late night conversations and early morning chores, I want us to have a normal life. Crowns, thrones, and lavish palaces mean nothing to me. I want the blandest days and uneventful weeks, petty squabbles and uncontrollable laughter. Give me the mundane. I need to know the color of our children's eyes, to hear their laughter, and watch them grow and have babies of their own. There isn't anything I wouldn't do to watch as sliver weaves with the beautiful onyx of Kyron's hair or to notice lines taking up residence on his face. One stone stands between me and spending the rest of my life with the man I love.

The rugged rock turns cold and smooth, startling me out of my wistful thoughts. I lift my gaze to find the temple looming just above me. I made it to the top!

My excitement is quickly replaced with panic as I struggle to find something to grab onto. The white marble floor is impossible to grip. A whimper escapes me as my foot slips. I wait for the stomach-dropping feeling of falling, but it never comes. The rocks shift and the soles of my boots rest on solid ground... a marble platform, to be precise. It slides out from the rock spire on all sides, creating a track which circles it. The platform continues to move, taking me away from the stone that has ripped the skin off my palms. If I looked over the side, I would find that I'm now standing just above Ashavee and Greer Another circular slab of marble moves above the one I'm on and creates a step. One by one, slabs of marble ease into place until they form a staircase to the temple.

I run up the steps, almost tripping over my feet as the temple comes into full view. It reminds me of the outlook at the Omnis back home. It has no walls, giving a spiracular 360-degree view of the Sibyl landscape. Everything in the temple is white—which isn't a lot—the pillars holding the domed roof and the small altar with a marble basin on top. I walk to the center of the room and look inside the bowl, thinking I will find the Imperium resting at the bottom. Nothing.

The temple is what it is, no doors, no rooms off to the side. What I see is what I get. The Imperium isn't here.

I run my palms up my face and lock my fingers across the top of my head. A long puff of air fills my cheeks and slowly flows out of my lips. I pace the room, looking for any sign that proves I'm wrong. The missing stone was mine to find. I attempted to do what was prophesied, only to learn we were all misled. The Cruel King's Stone is what everyone thought it was... a myth.

"Fuck," I scream. The curse echoes in the empty temple, mocking me.

With a fury that heats my skin, I stomp my way down the stairs. I stop at the second to last step, and my head swims at the sight of the drop below. Nausea washes over me and I back away from the edge. There is no way to get down. The marble is too slippery to get a proper hold, and even if I could, the edge of the bottom step is too far from the spire. Realization knocks me off my feet and I drop to my ass. The bones below are not of people who fell during their climb; they are the remains of those who jumped from this very platform. There is only one way down and to take it would lead to my death.