The Warrior King (Inferno Rising #3) - Abigail Owen Page 0,39

we going to do with it while we track down Pytheios?”

That stubborn chin popped in the air. “Find it a home.”

Samael ran a hand over his face. Why was he not surprised? “At least put it on the floor out of sight while we do this thing.”

She pursed her lips but moved to stand beside him and settled the mite at their feet. For its part, the kitten stayed right where she set it. Out of fear or the recognition of a savior, Samael wasn’t sure.

At least I’m not the only one who does her bidding so easily.

Standing up, Meira looked at him. “Okay. Ready now?”

This was a horrible idea, but Samael honestly couldn’t see any other way. Meira was right. Secrets were Pytheios’s weapon. The only way to combat secrets and rumors was with the truth, even if it meant screaming into the storm.

“Are you sure you can do this?” he asked.

Appearing in every mirror in Ararat, a mountain she’d yet to set foot in, to deliver their message would stretch anyone with this rare ability, it seemed to Samael. Young dragons didn’t attempt to blow fire for the first year or two after they learned to shift. Meira had only been a phoenix for two years. Not even. And most of those were spent cooped up with gargoyles.

“We should stick to the plan. My calculations showed a high probability of success if we have more help.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He was talking about her powers, and she knew that.

Meira grimaced. “I’ve never tried something this big. We might have to do it in phases.”

That wouldn’t be as effective as Pytheios’s display. Still, it would prove she had power to those starting to doubt. What kind of power was a different story. Likely she’d be called a witch by the naysayers of the clan. Or, as Samael privately thought of them, the bitchers and complainers who apparently had nothing better to do in life than drag others down and see everything in a negative light. Humans weren’t the only breed with skeptics.

“No turning back now.” Meira closed her eyes, and the flames he was becoming intimately familiar with flowed from her skin in rivers of gold and red until she stood ablaze before the mirror.

Chapter Eight

I can’t do this.

The plan was to reach every mirror in Ararat to address as many of the Black Clan dragons as she could in one shot. Pytheios’s floating flame trick at her mating ceremony had given her the idea.

But this was… After the first ten or so, with each mirror she reached, a shard of pain split through her mind, as though the mirrors were splitting her with each new reflection. Like she had to donate a part of her soul to gain that reflection. Was this what Kasia had gone through with her own migraines with each vision before she’d mated?

“Meira?” Samael’s voice came at her from a hundred different directions.

She slapped her hands over her ears, closing her eyes, even as she tried not to lose the connections she’d already made.

“Talk to me, Meira. What’s happening?” Urgency underlined the dark tones of his voice and hovered around her own emotions. As well as command, the captain of a king’s guard showing through.

“It’s…too much,” she said.

“Stop.”

Vaguely she was conscious of the squeak of the kitten as he swung in front of her, trying to force her to open her eyes and look at him, hands on her arms, steadying and compelling at the same time.

“Stop, Mir.” If she hadn’t been fixated on the pain and the power, she might’ve paid more attention to his use of her childhood nickname her sisters sometimes still used and the slight tinge of panic brushing against her emotions.

Samael didn’t panic. She knew him well enough to know that for certain.

“No,” she mumbled. “I can do this.”

Silence greeted that. Had he heard?

“What do you need?” he finally asked in a voice gone dragon.

Her mind managed to break away from the pain enough to latch on to that question. What did she need? More of herself? No, that didn’t make sense given how she’d done this on a smaller scale. She wasn’t splitting her soul to teleport the way she did, no matter what this felt like.

So, what was she doing?

“Fire.” She wasn’t sure if she said the word aloud. Didn’t matter. She needed more fire. More power. Maybe if she could get to her sisters—

Suddenly the searing agony in her mind eased under an unexpected onslaught