He glared darkly at her, red-faced, nostrils flared.
“You’re afraid,” she repeated. “Just as you were afraid of every single person whose blood is on your hands. You were afraid of my mother. Even now, you’re afraid of Rhona and how she might take back Dalrath. And you’re afraid of me.”
“I do not fear the dead,” he said, raising his hand.
His expression was the same as when he’d been about to kill her mother. Kaetha shivered as his magic swirled around her like a blizzard. Cold bit her fingers and toes which prickled and went numb. It felt like she was being buried in snow. Stabbing pain shot through her limbs and her head hung heavy and tired as her heartbeat slowed. Perhaps his magic works easily for him because he’s not touched by an iron fetter . How else . . . Her thoughts slowed but she knew what he was doing. As with King Alran and her mother, he was freezing her blood. Soon her heart would be still and cold as ice.
She drew a ragged breath. “You might convince yourself that it was all for Dalrath,” she said, only managing a whisper, her words jagged as icicles, “but I know what you felt. I saw you and I know. There was nothing kingly in your face when you killed your father. It was your bitterness, the sick, callous greed for power, the rank, rotting soul of a common murderer that I saw in your eyes. Whatever you wear upon your head, that is all you really are, all you will ever—”
“Enough.”
“You were right to see me as a threat,” she said through chattering teeth. “You were right to fear me.” She paused, taking in gasps of air as cold crushed her chest like an iron band. “You hoped I would die as a result of your laws against magic. You wanted to have me captured. You tried to have me killed first in Neul Carraig then at Longmachlag.”
She searched for the Fire magic within her. It was weak, like a pitiful, cowering creature. But confronted with death, she gave that creature inside her what strength she could and, with teeth and claws bared, it faced the icy threat of Svelrik’s power and began to push through the resistance of the iron. She smiled as warmth pulsed through her with each heartbeat.
Her voice steadied. “You feared that my magic would be a threat to your own. But even if you kill me, you should still fear me. I will not be the last to stand against you. I’ll be the spark that will light an inferno and death will be your only escape.”
With a great effort, she let her Fire magic blaze within her until there was no trace of Svelrik’s Ice. He staggered backwards, knocking against the iron bars of the cell, alarm contorting his face.
He straightened up in an attempt to regain his composure. “Your words mean nothing,” he said as he left the cell and locked it. “You want an inferno? That is what you will get. Tomorrow morning, Kaetha, you will burn at the stake for treason.”
Her stomach squirmed and she tried to pull herself to the corner of the cell. She didn’t get far. It hurt too much to move and swiftly came the clamminess, the trembling, her body arched forwards and she was sick. Hours passed in which she lay curled up, shaking and exhausted, the darkness around her filled with the echo of Svelrik’s words – you will burn.
She didn’t eat. She couldn’t. Neither could she sleep. With slow, pained movements, she shuffled across the floor to the cup and drank, though she couldn’t quench her thirst. Time must have passed but whether minutes or hours went by, she could not tell.
Thinking once again of her promise to Mairi not to come here, the promise she had broken, a lump rose up her throat and her body was gripped by sobs. She couldn’t stop the flow of tears but she tried to keep still to prevent the pain of her wounds from worsening. She thought of Mairi and the losses she will be about to face. She remembered the feelings of resentment she used to feel towards her. She’d been so against Mairi becoming like a mother to her, yet she was kind and caring, a good person whom her father loved dearly. Despite this, she had felt anger towards her. Now she questioned why. It was as if she had locked the answer in a dark corner of her mind where she wouldn’t be able to see it but then, like a cloud passing and unveiling the sun, the truth emerged in her mind.
It was not Mairi I was angry with, she thought. I was angry at my mother. She may have loved me but she did not claim me as her own. She rejected me because I brought her shame. Pain welled up inside her, making her cry again, but it was a pain that brought her closer to herself and closer to Mairi. I buried this pain and it came out as anger towards Mairi. But Mairi accepted me, despite her fear of magic, she’s been a mother to me. She released a long breath, feeling as though chains that had bound her were now broken.
Night was ever present in the shadows that clung to the walls so she had no way to know if dawn had arrived until, eventually, two guards came to take her.
Would the king call it Kaetha’s old cell now, instead of Darrow’s? she wondered as the guards released her from
