Phoenix Flame - Sara Holland Page 0,89

the fireball flies over, close enough to singe the fur on her spine.

“Enough!” Nahteran cries. He sprints toward the Silver Prince, all the pieces of the counterfeit armor now in his hands. “Take it!”

But just as the Silver Prince is about to claim his prize, Nahteran stops, withdrawing the armor.

Nahteran backs up. “Promise me that no harm will come to them,” he says, gesturing at Taya and Mom and me.

“I will make no such promise,” the Silver Prince snarls.

He lifts his hands at his sides, flames flickering between his fingers. A plume of fire rises from his palm, a slender, threatening column like a flaming sword, and lashes out at Nahteran.

Nahteran leaps back, but not fast enough; the fire catches him across the chest and he falls, swearing. I clap a hand over my mouth to hold in a scream. The counterfeit armor almost slides through the floor into Oasis before Nahteran rolls over and grabs it, jumping back to his feet.

“Haven’t you learned that all the worlds belong to the strong?” The Silver Prince advances on Nahteran, who scrambles to his feet and backs away, the front of his shirt scorched from shoulder to shoulder. “It is impossible that we should have our new world without injury. It is them or us. Haven’t I taught you that already?”

The flames lash out again. Nahteran throws up an arm to protect his face and cries out. The flames pull back and coil between the Silver Prince’s hands. Nahteran stumbles, dropping the counterfeit armor to clutch his arm, and I see an angry burn mark running the length of his forearm.

I’m moving before I can think about it, running to pick up the armor. Holding the breastplate in one hand and the gauntlets in another to make it look more real, I advance on the Silver Prince, slow and deliberate, belying the terror battering at the inside of my chest. I realize now it was stupid to expect the Silver Prince would hold up his end of the bargain, to give Mom back without a fight if we gave him the phoenix flame armor. I have to get him out of here before he kills us all and burns Havenfall to the ground.

“Marcus has soldiers,” I lie, keeping my eyes locked on the Silver Prince. “They’re just on the other side of the ballroom door. If you want to live, take the phoenix flame armor and go.”

The Silver Prince grins at me, reaching one graceful arm out toward the armor. “Changed your mind, Innkeeper? Aren’t you afraid of what will happen when I have this?”

“I’m not the Innkeeper anymore,” I growl. “My uncle is alive, no thanks to you. And no, I’m not afraid.” They’re my first words to him that aren’t a lie.

And somewhere, in the background, I can hear pounding. Shouts. Like maybe Marcus is at the door. But all my senses are running together, adrenaline warping my perception. I can’t tell if I really hear it or if it’s just wishful thinking.

“You will be,” the Silver Prince says, and snatches the armor from me.

I freeze, holding my breath, as his grin stretches wider. He lifts the breastplate up and drops it over his head, letting it settle on his shoulders.

Now.

I don’t think anymore, my body taking over. I lunge for the Silver Prince and grab the breastplate, working my fingers through the gaps in the metal. I squeeze my eyes shut and call forth all the fire and poison magic in this metal, directing it inward at the Silver Prince’s heart.

The Silver Prince screams, a terrible, agonized howl that drills into my ears, overtakes my world, and drowns out everything else. His hands wrap around my throat, closing my windpipe.

Panic, a pure animal panic that I’ve never felt before, obliterates me. I batter at the Silver Prince’s chest, his face, keeping my left hand on the armor to continue pouring our deadly magic into him. But he won’t release his grip on me. My eyes flutter, my vision going strange and watery, and then dark at the edges—

Then I’m free. I crash to the ground, gagging, and crawl instinctively away, looking over my shoulder to see Taya crouched in a face-off with the Silver Prince. He has one hand to his chest, and his face looks bruised. Red blood gathers at the corners of his mouth. As I watch, he staggers and falls back, spinning like a drunk.

My heart speeds. The magic is working.

The Silver Prince falls to his