Vaelor POV
"The Fire Goddess's Heart?" I stare at Morgana in disbelief. "That's a myth. It doesn't exist."
Morgana laughs, blood bubbling from her lips. "Oh, it exists. Hidden in Thornvale for three hundred years. Right under everyone's noses."
Seris grabs the witch by her burned collar. "What is it? What does it do?"
"It's the source of all Flamebinder power," Morgana gasps. "When the Fire Goddess died, her heart crystallized into pure flame. Whoever possesses it can control EVERY Flamebinder who ever lived, ever will live. Including you, little girl."
My blood runs cold. If Corwin gets that artifact, he'll be able to control Seris completely. Force her to do whatever he wants.
"Where in Thornvale?" I demand. "WHERE IS IT HIDDEN?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Morgana smiles through broken teeth. "But I'll give you a hint—it's somewhere only the dead can reach."
Before I can press her further, her eyes roll back. Foam bubbles from her mouth—black, poisonous foam.
"NO!" I shake her. "Don't you dare die! WHERE IS IT?"
But she's already gone. Dead by her own poison pill, just like the assassin before her.
"Damn it!" I drop her body. "Kael! How long until we can pursue Corwin?"
Kael appears, breathing hard. "The battle's over. They're retreating. But Your Majesty, half our warriors are wounded. We'd be riding with maybe two hundred able fighters."
"Then we ride with two hundred." I turn to Seris. "Can you travel? I need you at full strength."
Her face is pale but determined. "I can make it. But Vaelor, I don't understand. What's in Thornvale that's so important? It's just a small pack—"
"That's ruled over ancient burial grounds," I interrupt. The pieces are clicking together in my mind. "The catacombs under Thornvale territory—they date back thousands of years. If the Fire Goddess's Heart is 'somewhere only the dead can reach,' it must be down there."
"The catacombs?" Seris shakes her head. "Nobody goes down there. They're forbidden. Elder Casta said they're cursed—"
She stops. Her eyes go wide.
"Elder Casta," she whispers. "My grandmother. She's the only one with keys to the catacombs. She's the keeper of the dead."
"She's the keeper of the Heart," I correct. "And she's kept that secret for how long?"
"My whole life." Seris looks sick. "She always said our family was chosen by the Moon Goddess to guard Thornvale's dead. To protect their rest. But she wasn't protecting the dead. She was protecting the Heart."
"And now Corwin is going to force her to give it up," Kael says grimly.
"Or kill her and take it anyway," I add. "Either way, we need to move. Now. Seris, can you ride?"
"Yes, but—" She hesitates. "Vaelor, these are the people who burned me. Who wanted me dead. Why should I save them?"
It's a fair question. A question I would've asked at her age.
"Because you're better than they are," I say simply. "And because if Corwin gets that Heart, he won't just control you. He'll be able to create an army of Flamebinders. Imagine what he could do with that power."
Seris's jaw sets. "Then let's stop him."
We ride hard for Thornvale. Two hundred warriors, all pushing our horses to the limit. The journey that took three days when I found Seris now takes eight hours of brutal riding.
The sun is setting when we reach Thornvale's borders.
Smoke rises in the distance.
"No," Seris whispers beside me. "No, no, no..."
We push harder. When we crest the final hill, the full horror hits us.
Thornvale is burning.
Not the silver flames of Seris's power. Regular fire, spreading from building to building. Wolves run in panic. Bodies lie in the streets.
Corwin's army stands in the center of town, weapons drawn. And in the middle of them all, on her knees with her hands bound, is Elder Casta.
Corwin stands over her, a sword at her throat.
"WHERE IS IT?" he roars. "Tell me where the Heart is, or I'll kill every wolf in this pack one by one!"
"I'll never tell you!" Casta spits at his feet. "I'd rather die than give you that power!"
Corwin's face twists with rage. He raises his sword—
"STOP!" Seris's voice rings out across the burning town.
Every head turns. Corwin's sword freezes mid-swing.
Seris dismounts and walks forward slowly. Flames dance along her arms, lighting up the twilight. She looks like a goddess of fire, terrifying and beautiful.
"You want the Flamebinder?" she calls. "Here I am, Corwin. Let the pack go. This is between you and me."
Corwin stares at her like he's seeing a ghost. "Seris... you came back."
"Not for you." Her voice is ice. "For them. Let them go."
"I can't do that." Corwin's grip tightens on his sword. "Not until I have what I came for. Tell me where the Fire Goddess's Heart is, or I start killing people."
"I don't know where it is!"
"Then ask your grandmother!" Corwin presses the blade against Casta's throat. A line of blood appears. "She knows. She's always known. Haven't you, Elder?"
Casta's eyes meet Seris's across the distance. For the first time since the pyre, I see real emotion on the old woman's face. Regret. Pain. Love.
"I'm sorry," Casta whispers. "For everything. For not protecting you. For letting them burn you. For being too much of a coward to stand up for my own granddaughter."
"Save it," Seris says coldly. "Just tell him where the Heart is so he'll leave these people alone."
"I can't." Tears stream down Casta's weathered face. "Because if he gets it, he won't just control you. He'll awaken HER."
"Her?" I step forward. "Who are you talking about?"
Casta's eyes are haunted. "The First Flamebinder. The Fire Goddess's daughter. She's been sleeping in the catacombs for three thousand years, waiting for someone powerful enough to wake her. If Corwin gets the Heart and brings it to her resting place, she'll rise. And when she does, she'll burn the entire world to ash."
Silence falls over the burning town.
"You're lying," Corwin says, but his voice wavers.
"I wish I was." Casta looks at Seris. "Your mother knew. That's why she left you with me. To protect you from the truth. You're not just any Flamebinder, Seris. You're the last living descendant of the Fire Goddess herself. And the First Flamebinder is your ancestor. Your great-great-great-grandmother, going back three thousand years."
My world tilts. Seris isn't just a Flamebinder. She's divine bloodline. Direct descendant of a goddess.
"That's impossible," Seris whispers.
"Is it?" Casta gestures at the flames dancing on Seris's arms. "You survived a pyre that should have killed you. You absorbed fire itself. You're stronger than any Flamebinder in recorded history. Why do you think that is?"
Before anyone can respond, the ground beneath Thornvale begins to shake.
Not an earthquake. Something else. Something ancient stirring.
From the center of town, where the old temple stands—the temple built over the entrance to the catacombs—a crack appears. Then another. The stone foundation splits apart.
And from the darkness below, a voice echoes. Female. Ancient. Furious.
"WHO DARES DISTURB MY SLEEP?"
Silver fire erupts from the crack, shooting into the sky like a pillar of light.
Everyone backs away in terror. Even Corwin drops his sword.
The voice speaks again, and this time, it's directed at Seris.
"Granddaughter. I've been waiting for you."