Arcemis's Arc

Chapter 7 of 16

Arcemis's arm still ached from the hounds' claws when the message came. A rider left a folded note at the forge and vanished before anyone could stop him. Arcemis broke the seal. The words were Amira's hand. She begged him to meet her at an old farmhouse near the border. She wrote that she had fled Rhademus and needed him. Arcemis's chest tightened. Amira had asked him to return alive once. He would not leave her alone now. He rode through the night and found the cottage at dawn. Thatch drooped over stone walls. Amira stood in the doorway in her red dress, green eyes bright. She ran to him and pressed close. "You came," she whispered. Her hands slid to his chest. "I was so afraid. Stay with me. Forget the guardians for one night." Her voice turned soft and warm. She pulled his face down toward hers. Arcemis almost yielded. Then he felt her hands shake. He looked at her eyes. They were wet, and they would not meet his. "Amira," he said. "What's wrong?" She broke. "He made me," she sobbed. "He said if I lured you here, he would spare the others. I'm sorry. I couldn't—" She shoved him hard. "Run!" Green light bled through the windows. The far wall cracked. King Rhademus stepped through the broken stone. His black robes trailed dust. Red eyes burned in his pale face. Behind him, the sky darkened toward a distant black citadel crowned with green flame. "Well done, daughter," he said. His voice was low and slow, like an old man savoring wine. "Though your heart betrays you at the end. As I feared." "Let her go," Arcemis said. He drew his sword. No gold light answered. The blade was only steel. Rhademus smiled. "You wounded my demon. You freed my prisoners' minds. So I took the one thing that would bring you to me freely." He raised a hand. Dark threads coiled around Amira's wrists and yanked her back. "She is mine. Adopted, yes. But mine." Arcemis charged. Rhademus flicked his fingers. An unseen force threw Arcemis into the stone hearth. His ribs cracked against it. He tasted blood. Rhademus walked closer, unhurried. "You are strong for a mortal. But you are still mortal." Arcemis looked at Amira, straining against the threads, still reaching for him. He could not win here. So he seized a burning log from the hearth and hurled it at the thatch roof. Fire climbed fast. Smoke filled the cottage. Rhademus hissed and shielded his eyes. The threads on Amira loosened. "Come!" Arcemis grabbed her hand and pulled her through the burning doorway. They stumbled into the cold morning. Behind them, the roof collapsed in flame. Amira clung to him, weeping. "He will never stop now." Arcemis held her. He had saved her. But he had stolen Rhademus's daughter, and the king had shown his face at last. The war was no longer hidden. It was his.