Crown of Fire (Book 3 in the Crown Trilogy)

Forty-One

I dart across the square, shoving animals and people out of my way. My boots slip through the blood staining the ground. It's a struggle to remain upright, steadying myself on buildings and lampposts, but I refuse to let the hawk out of my sight. My lungs burn as I weave through the streets, and I ignore the aching muscles in my legs. Minutes of pain are nothing compared to the lifetime of suffering Zek will inflict upon us if he isn't stopped.

Zek flies in circles like he is scavenging for his next meal. Nothing is left of our city. He has ordered the destruction of our markets and our riches will do nothing to feed his people. The only item of value, other than our lives, is the Imperium, and even that is only priceless to us in the hands of our ruler. Our ruler...

Statera help me, I'm not the only one hunting down a king. If he kills Kyron, we become a kingdom without a sovereign. I may have made my amends with the Statera, and it may acknowledge Kyron's desire for me to be his queen, but we have not gone through the pomp and circumstance of the anointment. The Sybils are a people who thrive on tradition and structure. They will demand that the right have been conducted in order for me to take the crown. The debate that will ensue could leave our land ripe for the taking until it is resolved.

I pick up speed and keep my face to the sky. The streets narrow and family homes line either side. This would be the quieter part of the city, where children play in the yards and families gather at the end of the day. The other forty percent of the population who didn't make it to the sanctuary could be hiding behind these walls. Little do they know; they are no safer here than they are in the city square.

The hawk lands, perching on the shingled roof of a guard tower. It looks back at me, and I swear the corners of its hooked beak tip up in a smirk. I don't need to wonder what he's doing; it's clear. He has found Kyron and is waiting for me. The sadistic asshole will only be content if I witness the death of my parah.

I sprint around the corner and gasp at the sight before me. Shifters surround a schoolhouse with teeth bared and hackles raised. On the front steps, Kyron holds most of the animals back with a wall of fire, but a couple have slipped through his defenses. Greer battles with a large red fox. It avoids her blade with nimble moves, cackling as it does. The chimpanzee in a faceoff with Terro looms over him. It curls its large hands into fits and swings, punching Terro in the chest and knocking him off his feet.

The soldiers' fighting is so seamless—a mixture of skilled swordsmanship and their gifts—fire, water, and earth. They don't hesitate to attack, don't second guess their maneuvering. It's like a viciously beautiful dance. I would stand back and admire them if it weren't for the round, curious eyes peering over the edge of windows. Children watch from the safety of their classrooms.

I run out into the battle, slicing my blade through the necks of the two wolves waiting their turns at the back. Their heads roll at my feet, fading from vicious beasts to people. I remain at the back between Kyron and Zek. My attention divided between those attacking me and the calculating hawk.

When only a handful of Allaji are left standing, an ear-piercing squawk blasts through the air. No sooner do the animals step back, and Zek sweeps in with wings wide and talons at the forefront.

I bolt up the steps, determined to be the blockade Zek must overcome to get to Kyron. As if I am nothing more than an annoyance, he sweeps me off my feet with a flick of his wing as he flies by. The fall knocks the breath out of me, but I scurry upright again.

Kyron doesn't so much as flinch when the bird lands before him. The massive creature is a head taller, and its body double his size. Greer and Terro flank him, swords and gifts at the ready. Kyron slides his hands into his pockets, looking bored as the hawk closes in. "You could try reasoning with me. It never had to come to this," he says, tilting his chin at the dead bodies around us.

Zek cocks his head to the side, and his beady blue eyes blink with no response. He doesn't see the loss or care that his people gave their lives for nothing. Zek's vision doesn't extend far beyond him. He believes he is the greatest king, the ultimate warrior, the most feared advisory. Why would he ever come to the table to negotiate a truce? It doesn't fully benefit him.

This war will only end with one of them dead, and I know which king it will be.

I clench my hands at my side. The hatred I have for Zek runs cold in my veins. It consumes me in a way that hardens until I'm nothing more than fierce, brutal ice...silent and deadly. My contempt for the Allaji king urges me forward with light, steady steps. It manifests at my knuckles in the form of long, sharp icicles. I creep closer and closer, prepared to put an end to all of this.

Kyron's attention darts to me with wide-eyed shock. The hawk pivots its head, putting us face to face. It lifts its hooked beak as if to impale me through the head with it. I jam my ice-spiked fist into its side.

Zek shrieks and kicks back with his taloned feet before I get in another blow. I crash to the ground, my bloody icicles shattering with the impact. Terro and Greer bombard the bird, and Kyron hurries to my side.

"Are you all right?" he asks, pulling me to my feet.

"Yes." I brush off my bruised ego and set my focus on my unfinished task.

Terro and Greer spar with Zek. Blood drips from the four puncture wounds at his side, but it doesn't seem to hinder him. He pecks and claws, using his wings to keep them at bay. It's only when Terro gets an opening and slices off several wing feathers that Zek backs down. He bounces back on his slender legs, assessing the damage. Slowly, he turns back to Terro, burning rage in his electric blue eyes. The lack of feathers has grounded him.

I can't contain the wicked smile that lifts my lips. We have him. And I refuse to allow him to surrender. He will atone for the lives he stole from our kingdom with his blood.

We will be victor—

My thoughts come to a crashing halt. Zek whips his head back and a flash of lime green arches before him. He catches the triangular stone in his mouth, the gold chain securing it to his neck swaying at either side of his beak. My hand shoots to my neck and I grip the Imperium. I'm not the only one with a Sacred Gift.

The Theria glows with a blinding light that envelopes Zek. Striped feathers flutter to the ground, like plucked butterfly wings. The silhouette of the enormous bird distorts into something unrecognizable. Not bird or wild cat. Not a wolf or bear. What emerges from the blast of unadulterated power is the most terrifying creature I've ever encountered.