Page 29 of Hearts on Fire

He was determined to leave, whether the king excused him or not. But he was relieved when the king waved at him with the dripping bread in his hand.

“Go. I need you well for your trip with the High General next week. A dragon isn’t of much use either at a party or at war if he isn’t feeling his best.”

That obviously didn’t apply to women as the king slapped his arm around the middle of thesalamandrain his lap. She released a sharp breath, bending over. Her burned side couldn’t have fully healed yet.

“Oh, you’ll be fine.” The king rubbed her back.

The woman giggled softly, clearly trying to please him.

Elex turned around and stormed out of the room, his jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

He’d never been to thesalamandras’bedroom before, but he knew its position by the window he’d been watching from the outside. He also knew that it was on the same level as the kitchen, which he had visited to make the breakfast delivery arrangements for Amber and thesalamandras.

He jogged down the winding staircase, past the window Amber had pushed him out of. It’d been a long and lonely night on the wall that he’d spent stewing in frustration. Now, he would’ve gladly let Amber push him out again, if only to make sure that she was well and alive.

Once he arrived at the floor with the kitchen, he grabbed the first servant he saw.

“Where is the room of thesalamandrasfrom the Sanctuary?”

“That way, off the side corridor.” The servant gestured with some reluctance. “Only no one is allowed to go in there, my lord, not without the king’s permission.”

“I have permission,” he lied.

The corridor was dark and narrow. The door was cracked and creaky. He had to duck his head when entering, to avoid bumping it into the low door frame.

“Lord Elex?” A woman rose from a perch she was sitting on. By the pendant with the Sanctuary symbol around her neck, he recognized her as the Mother of theSalamandraSanctuary.

Her hood was down, exposing her face. She was old, he realized, visibly old, which meant she had less than a few decades to live in this world, maybe just a few years. A pattern of thin fissures, like cracks in the desert floor, had crinkled the skin around her eyes and already edged her face around the hairline. Sooner or later, it would take over her body completely, her own fire burning through it and breaking it apart from within.

Dropping her gaze under his scrutiny, she promptly lifted her hood over her head, then lowered the lace in front of her face.

“Are you here on the king’s orders, my lord?” she inquired.

“Where is Amber?”

“She’s unwell. I’ve let the king know. She was excused…” The woman sounded nervous, babbling away.

He moved along the narrow room, picking out the signs of a lifestyle he had never known before and never expected to see in a royal castle, the place of abundance and opulence.

Bare perches were hardly wide enough for a person to sit on. A pair of boots was tucked under each, most had holes gaping in the worn leather. Small baskets with women’s belongings stood nearby. Linen shirts with faded embroidery and scratchy woolen dresses of washed-out colors were folded neatly on each perch. The fine silk and bright jacquard were obviously reserved for the king’s parties only.

“My lord?” Mother followed him. “May I ask what you’re looking for?”

A pile of blankets on one of the perches drew his attention. He mistook it for some spare bedding at first, but the sound of labored breathing came from under them. Looking closely, he noticed the pile move.

“Amber?” He kneeled, lifting the covers on one side.

Her eyes were closed, and she breathed heavily. The cloth on her head had shifted, leaving some of the red, wavy strands visible. Soaking wet, her hair was plastered around her face. Her head cloth was drenched, too, as was the plain linen shirt she was wearing.

“Why is she wet?” he demanded from Mother.

“It’s not our doing, my lord.” The woman’s voice shook with fear. “She’s excreting the moisture from her skin, it seems.” She added hesitantly, “Amber is…um, not a gargoyle.”

“I know.” He leaned closer to the shivering woman under the covers. “Amber, can you hear me? Say something, my spark?” His voice cracked. His heart seemed to crack as well when she didn’t answer.

She didn’t move. Didn’t acknowledge him in any way. But her body was rocking with violent shivers.

“She’s cold, my lord.” Mother took the blankets from him and tucked them all around Amber’s thin frame. “She is always cold.”