Free Fire by Kristin Cashore Page B

them.’
    Roen smiled into her soup. ‘Once about every three years, Nax did have a good idea.’ She changed the subject abruptly. ‘This visit will be a bit of a balancing act. Perhaps tomorrow we can sit down with my people to discuss the events on your lands. After the Third comes and goes, we’ll have more time.’
    She was avoiding specific mention of the thing that was on all their minds. Archer spoke plainly. ‘Will the king or the prince be a danger to Fire?’
    Roen didn’t pretend not to understand. ‘I will speak to Nash and Brigan, and I’ll introduce her to them myself.’
    Archer was not soothed. ‘Will they be a danger to her?’
    Roen regarded him for a moment in silence, and then turned her eyes to Fire. Fire saw sympathy there, possibly even apology. ‘I know my sons,’ she said, ‘and I know Fire. Brigan will not like her, and Nash will like her overly. But neither of them will be too much for her to handle.’
    Archer caught his breath and clapped his fork onto the table. He sat back, his mouth tight. Fire knew that the presence of a lady queen was the only reason he wasn’t saying what she could read in his eyes: she should not have come.
    A small determination flamed inside her breast. She decided to adopt Roen’s attitude.
    Neither the king nor the commander would be too much for her.
     
    OF COURSE, CIRCUMSTANCES don’t always align themselves with human intention, and Roen could not be everywhere at once. Fire was crossing the main courtyard with Archer after dinner, on her way to the sleeping quarters, when it happened. In the same instant that she sensed minds approaching, the gates flew open. Two men on horses clattered inside, overwhelming the space with their noise and their presence, backlit by a bonfire blazing outside the gates. Archer and everyone else in the courtyard dropped to one knee, except for Fire, who stood paralysed, shocked. The man on the first horse looked like every painting she’d ever seen of King Nax, and the man on the second horse was her father.
    Her mind was on fire. Cansrel. In the light of the flames his hair flashed silver and blue, his eyes blue and beautiful. She stared into those eyes and saw them staring back at her with hatred, anger, because it was Cansrel come back from death and there was no hiding herself from him.
    ‘Kneel,’ Archer said beside her, but it was unnecessary, for she fell to both knees.
    And then the gates swung shut. The white blaze of the bonfire receded, and all was yellow in the light of the courtyard torches. And still the man on the horse stared at her with hatred, but as the shadows settled it was no longer Cansrel’s hatred. His hair was dark, his eyes were pale, and she saw that this was nothing but an ordinary man.
    She was shaking, cold on the ground. And now of course she recognised his black mare, and his handsome brother, and his handsome brother’s roan. Not Nax and Cansrel, but Nash and Brigan. They swung down from their saddles and stood arguing beside their horses. Shaking as she was, their words came to her slowly. Brigan said something about throwing someone to the raptors. Nash said that he was king, and it was his decision, and he wasn’t throwing a woman who looked like that to any raptors.
    Archer was crouched over Fire, repeating her name, his hand gripping her face. He said something firmly to the arguing brothers. He lifted Fire into his arms and carried her out of the courtyard.
     
    THIS WAS SOMETHING Fire knew about herself: her mind made mistakes sometimes, but the real traitor was her body.
    Archer lowered her onto her bed and sat beside her. He took her cold hands and rubbed them. Slowly, her shivering subsided.
    She heard the echo of his voice in her mind. Gradually she pieced together the thing Archer had said to the king and the prince before picking her up and carrying her away: ‘If you’re going to throw her to the raptors you’ll have to throw me as well.’
    She caught his hands,