Of Blades and Wings (Flame Cursed Fae, #1)

by Eliza Raine

My life will exist only inside these walls, alone until the sickness in my brain finally wins.

They just… gave up trying to save me once they realized that the very thing killing me is possibly the most valuable asset the Ice Court has.

For all the talk of valor and honor in our world, the truth is: secrets always win. Those who hold knowledge over others can do as they please.

"There has been a change in our plans," he booms. "We are collecting the remaining Featherblade recruits tonight." His words make my muscles freeze, and my skin tighten. Tonight? They are taking Freydis tonight.

"I am honored," she says as she drops to one knee in a massively overexaggerated curtsy.

Freydis takes the leather strap, and something changes in all the Valkyrie's expressions. Well, all of them except the fire-fae, who is still inexplicably staring at me. Harald snaps his attention over his shoulder at Erik, clearly communicating silently. "Something is not right," says Brynhild, and every face turns to hers.

Every member of my family is doing their best not to look at me, and my heart is beating so fast I think I might be sick. My brain is desperately listing what-ifs. What if they're here for you? What if you could become a Valkyrie? What if you could actually leave the Ice Court?

Now tell me, Queen of the Ice Court, why do you hide a daughter?" My heart hammers in my chest. I can't breathe at all.

"Hold this," the huge man barks. I barely reach his chest. He opens his hand and drops the thong with the stones on it. Instinctively, I catch it. Light explodes in my eyes, making my head hurt. I suppress a cry but don't manage to contain my flinch. One of the pebbles lights up, a brief blue glow. I hear Freydis gasp. Brynhild's eyes narrow in sudden concern, and Harald smiles. "We have found our rook," he says. I blink, repeatedly. "No," I say. "No, you've got it wrong. You want my sister, not me." "You are challenging the gods?" asks Harald, his eyes darkening, his voice dropping, and that dangerous magic around him thickening. "Of course not." I shake my head. My stomach lurches.

"Stand up." I startle as the voice enters my head. I have never heard it before in my life. I look at Harald, but he's focused on my sister now. I look at Erik, who is still intently watching me. "Stand up. The gods do not make mistakes. You are to attend Featherblade. Stand up and prove it."

"I can sense the power in this one," he says, gesturing at my sister. "This one has little." Brynhild nods. "Correct." "Then why would the gods have chosen her?" They are talking about me like I'm not standing right in front of them. I open my mouth to say something, to defend myself, to pitch myself, even, but nothing comes out. They're right—I have hardly any magic at all. "Tell them why the gods chose you." That voice enters my mind again, and I snap my eyes to Erik. He is still staring at me. I don't know why the gods chose me. I'm not even sure the gods did choose me. What in Yggdrasil could I have that the gods would want in a Valkyrie?

His voice is deep and gravelly, as though he's out of practice using it. Recognition sparks instantly, though. "You… Did you…" My words stall. It couldn't have been him who told me to stand up. Could it?

The second his ash-filled, intense eyes enter my mind, the corridor whooshes under my feet. When it stops, my mouth falls open. The statue it has deposited before me is one of the original three that were here the very first time I discovered the gallery inside my head. It's the wolf statue, and usually it's just a solid, lifeless, icy blue, but today it's glowing—with a color not dissimilar to that of a flame.

You're nothing but a chubby, muscle-less mess! You didn't use your staff on the boat at all. Do you even have any magic? Where are your braids? Have you really never earned a single braid?" Somehow, my cheeks get hotter. "She saved your life on the boat. Sit the fuck down and eat your fucking food." It's the last voice I expected to come to my aid.

With his eyes still fixed on me, he continues to speak. "It doesn't matter how big, small, strong, or weak you are; you are able to defend yourself." Defend myself, maybe, I think, but do any actual damage? Or win? Not a chance.

"Food is important for a warrior. As is sleep," Harald says, then squints at me. "You're pale." "I'm an ice-fae. I'm supposed to be pale."

There's a wild-eyed look on Branka's face, but my gaze settles on Inga. She's the only fire-fae here—who else could set my hair on fire from across the room? Why, though? Why would she try to hurt me? A voice enters my head. "Maybe you should pay better attention to your surroundings." It's Orgid's voice, and it makes me flinch.

"Brynhild said to find a bear or a wolf." I look pointedly at him. "Will you help me?" Why the fates am I asking him for help? To have been given such a severe punishment, he probably is a murderer. He stares at me. "What do I get in return?" I scowl. "It's your duty to teach us. The gods bid you⁠—" "The gods can get fucked," he snarls. "I'm a warrior, not a fucking teacher."

"You have no idea what I'm capable of, Orgid. Now, I don't know why you're so obsessed with me, but I'm not interested. Leave me alone." I get a moment's satisfaction when his smile slips, but then shadows flow from his staff, and images begin to creep into my head. Images of fire, bodies thrashing amongst the flames. "Obsessed with you?" he hisses. "A powerless, pathetic⁠—" A fist collides with his face, out of nowhere. The shadows, and the images, dissipate as blood spurts from his nose, and he cries out in shock.

"She said leave her the fuck alone. You want to fight a fae with no magic? Fight me."

Orgid glares at me, one hand pressed to his still-bleeding nose. "I don't know how you got that unhinged fucking guard dog on your side, but you'll be alone soon," his voice sounds in my head.

I knew Harald's cheery indifference to the fight was forced. They don't want the rooks knowing that Kain is a liability; it makes them look like they're not in control. He's an outcast here, not one of the hersir.

Because when I tried to look up information on Kain in the gallery, I was taken to the wolf statue. The one that has been inside my brain since I was a small child.

I step cautiously toward the back of the room, wondering for the first time if there is any chance somebody other than Kain is in here. "So, the powerless princess can pick locks."

"I didn't pick the lock—it was open." Although I am pretty good at lock picking. "Then Featherblade wants you in here. With me." A dangerous flash gleams in his ash eyes.

Fuck, I am playing with fire, literally. "Why did you tell me to stand up?" "Because you looked pathetic, and I think your father is a prick."

"So, you're carrying out your task, but with me instead of Freydis?" I swallow. "I hate to tell you this, but I doubt my parents will pay a high price for my safety." "Your 'terminal affliction'?" he says quietly. He was there in the Ice Court courtyard, and those were the exact words that were used. I nod. "Decreases a princess's value, I'm afraid." The casual indifference isn't as convincing when I say it out loud as it is in my head. I get no pitying look from him, though. His gaze is unwavering. "There's something about you. Something… different. You're here instead of your sister for a reason, princess, and I intend to find out why."

Beyond these walls lies the sacred Vault of the Valkyrie, Filled with treasures, it will reward your entrance lavishly, But to pass this first door you must prove that your knowledge is sound, List every Guardian and the beast to which they were bound. Make one mistake and it will be your last, The door will ensure you exist only in the past.

"Your friend is an arsehole," he says quietly, glaring out at the now-empty hall as I stand up. "Not my friend," I mumble, rubbing my arms. Kain gives me a long look. "You need to start hitting people," he says, then turns and strides away through the hall.

I dream of Kain. It starts with me soaring over the canopy of Yggdrasil, high in the sky, at one with the mists. I have huge wings, the color of my sister's hair, and a pale blue snake is coiled around my neck, its long body wrapped around my shoulders, comforting and solid. But then the tree below me changes, and my wings falter. The world is burning. Everything beneath me is on fire. A wolf the size of Odin's High Hall, made of huge, lethal, blazing flames, is incinerating everything in its path. It moves through the canopy, through the courts, and nothing is left in its wake but ash-covered desolation. On the beast's back, a maniacal look in his eyes, his arms outstretched and colossal wings made from fire erupting from his shoulders, is Kain the Ruinous.

Is she saying we are all overreacting? That Branka was not really a threat? "Kain's actions were unnecessary, bordering on a loss of control of his own wolf." Indignation swells in me at the untruth. I'm not convinced he had to kill her, but I have no doubt he was in control.