The Fire Queen (The Hundredth Queen Series Book 2) by Emily R. King

Author:Emily R. King [King, Emily R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781611097498
Publisher: Skyscape
Published: 2017-09-25T16:00:00+00:00

15

KALINDA

Darkness smothers me. The air is thinner and enclosed inside the ruins. I lie on my back and stare into nothing. I cannot see my hand in front of my face.

My hand.

I push my powers into my fingers. They cast a pale glow, uncovering walls strangled by vines and an uneven rocky floor buckled with tree roots. After getting up, I wrench a dry root free. I cup the top of the wood and shove my powers into it. A small flame sparks. I blow on the flame, and my breath caresses the new embers into a blaze.

The torchlight brightens the caved-in entry. The rock pile is too high and packed thick, well within the doorframe. I have to find another way out.

Extending the torch in front of me, I hazard my way into the ruins. The floor slopes, leading me into the trenches. Every few steps I pause and listen for sounds above my thumping heart. Water drips nearby, but the rowdy jungle noises are absent. The corridor breaks off into dark doorways. I choose the path in front of me over and over again, maintaining a line. I lose track of time, but at least an hour, maybe two, passes before I enter a large room.

Torchlight opens up the area, which has not seen sunlight in a long while. Moss blankets the floor, and fungus sprouts from rotten branches. The ceiling is so high I cannot see it beyond the circle of light.

The hairs on my bare arms bristle as I cross the cold room to a wall mural. The land-goddess stares out at me. A gigantic dragon cobra swathes her strong shoulders. Ki is magnificent, nearly the whole height of the great chamber.

The mural continues, transitioning from thriving jungle foliage to a scene at a mountaintop. Jagged peaks with snowy tips and gray rock fill my sight. The depiction of the Alpanas—home—chokes me with longing. On the top of the summit, perched like a bird of prey, is a blue-black snakelike monster. Below it, legions of warriors shoot arrows at the beast. The great serpent blows fire into their ranks, burning them to ashy silhouettes. The mural is lifelike, and as an artist I admire the painted detail. I close in on the sinister serpent, the First-Ever Dragon. The demon Kur is rarely depicted in portraits, but I remember once seeing a sketch of his blue-black scaly form.

Deep breathing rings out behind me.

I spin around. “Who’s there?”

The echo of my voice answers, and then silence, broken only by my drumming pulse.

Turning my back to the wall, I cross carefully to the center of the room. Four stairs lead me up a dais. The circle of my torchlight brushes against the base of a throne. I approach the old stone chair, bringing the light nearer. The back of the seat is fashioned into the head of a dragon with its jaw open, poised to devour its occupant. The rest of the dragon’s serpentine body winds around the heavy feet.

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