Queen of Poison & Fire by Tiffany Parker

Author:Tiffany Parker [Parker, Tiffany]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-11-13T16:00:00+00:00

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Along with magic, one of the first things to be forbidden in Cimran two and a half decades prior was travel to the Isle of the Old Gods. Legends said that deep in the heart of the island, magic was born along with the first sunrise. It stood to reason that King Helmar would prefer to cut off at the source the very thing he sought to put an end to. I’d been told very little about the isle and what I had learned scared me. Stories of monsters that lurked in the shadows, that swam beneath the crystal clear waters. They were said to kill a man before he could muster a scream in his throat - a throat that would be sliced cleanly from ear to ear. Memories of Malik’s milk-clouded eyes as his head lolled at a sickening angle played in my mind. The thought of that happening to me… My fingernails dug painfully into my palms, leaving crescent moons behind.

It was no surprise that I found myself apprehensive about travelling to the Isle of the Old Gods. Whilst my life as of late had been somewhat unbearable, I didn’t exactly wish to die.

I had to wonder exactly what would draw Thorn to such a forsaken place. He was tight-lipped on the tradition he was so hell-bent on honouring. Saying only that it was important to him.

Each day passed in a blur. The further south we sailed, the warmer the weather grew until eventually, I didn’t need furs when I sat on the deck, watching waves crash against the bow of the ship. We passed through something the sailors called the Eternal Strait. Here, the waters were crystal clear, giving a perfect view of that which we sailed over. Littering the seabed were ships. Some recent, only minor erosion to the body. Others were so old, I struggled to place what wood belonged to what part of the ship. In amongst the wreckage were clumps of coral, fish darting about.

“It covers the remains,” Denard explained, pointing to bulbous coral the colour of sunset. “Most have faded away by now but their armour remains as an anchor of sorts for the sea life.”

“Who were they?” My eyes locked on the remains of one ship I knew to be Cimranean, the sails bearing Helmar’s emblem. Judging by the condition of the ship, it had gone down some time in the last few months whilst I’d been under Dearmond.

“Soldiers, sailors, slavers,” Denard replied, no inflection in his voice. “Those who angered the gods.”

“Do you believe in the wrath of the gods, captain?”

Denard threw me a sideways glance, lifting one shoulder in a half shrug. “Here, I believe in the wrath of the sea and nothing more. On land, it is the wrath of man. A cruel wrath. Worse than the gods, for the gods do not know what it is to be one of us, to suffer and scrape by day to day. Our fellow man does. Anyone who would wilfully inflict that pain on another is nothing short of cruel.

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