Page 12 of A Kiss of Flame

‘Why do you want to catch flies?’ Wren had replied and Elodie had laughed.

Great light, she missed that sound. It hadn’t been that common an occurrence. But it had been sweet.

The grille in the door slid back and a sour-faced woman peered out at her.

Speaking of vinegar, Wren thought, and kept that thought very carefully unsaid.

‘No,’ said the maiden and slammed the grille shut again. The same way she had every other day Wren had tried this, leaving her to turn around and traipse back to the palace, in full view of everyone.

But not today. She was not putting up with this any longer. She rang the bell again, more insistently this time.

For a moment she wondered if they would ignore her entirely, but the grille opened again.

‘Were you always this obstinate?’ the maiden asked.

Wren tilted her head to one side and smiled as sweetly as she could muster. ‘Maybe you should ask Elodie.’

The maiden snorted out a huff of air. ‘No one by that name in here to ask.’

And she slammed the grille closed again.

‘Maybe we should go back,’ said Carlotta softly, already trying to cajole her and persuade her.

Wren’s temper got the better of her. She couldn’t help it. She had been trying to be nice about it, and all she wanted to do was talk to Elodie. Even for a few minutes. She had begged, wept, asked politely, everything. The woman was impossible. Before she knew what she was doing, she lashed out, not with her body but with her mind. Shadows recoiled from the bell and light burst from it. Behind her Carlotta gave a shriek of alarm.

The bell didn’t so much ring as explode, leaving a pool of molten metal on the dusty ground underneath it.

CHAPTER 6

WREN

Wren stared at the puddle of molten metal, hiding the rising horror inside her, and then dragged her gaze up to the grille which was now open again.

‘Well,’ said the maiden. It wasn’t the same woman this time. Wren recognised the familiar blue eyes of Sister Maryn, the maiden from the garden. ‘I suppose Elodie might have some questions to answer after all. I’ve been wondering how long it would take.’

The grille closed again and Wren stood there, feeling utterly wretched and defeated.

But this time the door opened and two maidens in white stood behind it.

‘Inside, both of you,’ the gatekeeper snapped. ‘You’ll be paying for that bell, your highness.’

Wren was so relieved, she didn’t even argue about the title. Or the sarcastic way it was delivered.

‘With what?’ she asked and the maiden gave a snort of laughter as she closed the door behind them. Carlotta stared, wide-eyed, and knotted her hands together in front of her neat apron. She was Wren’s own age, perhaps selected to give her someone to confide in.

Right now, she was clearly terrified.

Wren took her hand and squeezed gently, which almost made her jump out of her skin.

‘My lady… I mean, your highness… I mean…’

‘Just Wren, Carlotta, please.’

Her eyes went even wider. ‘We shouldn’t be in here, Wren,’ she whispered, far too loudly. ‘I’ve heard the stories. Like the one about the three sisters. The maidens locked them away but they escaped into the wild. We don’t have that kind of power. I mean… you might but…’ She trailed off, horrified. As the maiden secured the door and turned away, Wren saw a smile quirk her lips. Oh she was loving every minute of this.

‘Well, we are. I won’t tell if you don’t.’

‘What did you do to the bell?’