Flooded Flames

Part Two of Six

A cold sensation against Asher’s head cut through the blackness as he noticed the sound of flowing water. The back of his head throbbed. Shifting his arms, the bindings around his wrist tightened.

Damn it, he was still alive.

Forcing his eyes open, he lifted his head out of the half-centimeter of water that covered the floor. Before him, his eyes focused on a frame of ice that had bedding on it.

There was a perfectly good bed, and they dumped him on his side in the water? How rude! He could’ve drowned! They’re terrible hosts. Though he supposed that if he expected better treatment, he shouldn’t have tried to kill their queen.

He stared at the water as the fog in his vision cleared. It wasn’t deep enough to drown in sadly. He had failed, but since he was still alive, he had also failed at failing.

He let out a sigh, pushing himself up to a sit.

Get ahold of yourself, Asher, he told himself. There’s still hope. There’s no way they’d keep you alive after that.

He took a breath as he took in his cell. The water he sat in, the surrounding cell, a mixture of bars and almost transparent waterfalls, all designed to confine someone with his power. He glanced up at the earthen roof above him. If the rumors were true, then if he managed to blast through it, he’d find a moat or lake waiting above. The shallow pool his cell was submerged in was in the middle of a large room. Surrounding the bars, a narrow, shallow moat fed the water he stood in. The cells he was once held in the Fire Kingdom were similar, but with flames and lava discouraging your departure. Like those cells, there were no windows, and only a door served as the only entrance to the large dungeon room.

He realized escape wasn’t an option. Not that running ever was. There were only two ways this had to end, with the queen, or him, dead. He guessed that getting killed as he escaped after killing her would’ve been an option as well. Since he failed to kill the queen, he could only pray his execution would come quick, and be public.

His thoughts traveled back to the queen. He had been so close to completing his mission. His knife pierced her throat, but he stopped. Why did he stop?

The sound of the dungeon door creaking open tore him from his thoughts. A pair of guards walked in.

“Inform the queen he’s awake!” the guard locking eyes with him ordered the younger guard with him, who quickly ran off, leaving the door open.

Good, we can get to my execution quickly, Asher thought. It made sense she wanted to be present for it—he had tried to kill her.

The guard that remained stepped up to the moat.

“How long have I been knocked out?” Asher asked.

Not answering, the guard’s eyes, filled with spite, narrowed on him.

So much for making new friends, Asher thought as he looked away.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

He went over the failed assassination attempt in his mind. Everything had been going as planned. He had reached the bedroom in the tower he was told was hers with no issues. Creeping up to her in bed, he sensed her power and knew it was her despite no one ever laying eyes on her. He was above her, pushing the knife into her throat, and then…he stopped. One look at her porcelain skin, red lips, framed by her icy blue hair, glowing in the moonlight, and he couldn’t do it. He didn’t know why.

His ears twitched as he heard footsteps in the distance. Holding his breath, he focused intently on the sound. Each step provided valuable information: the delicate swish of a dress mixed with the urgency in her pace. Judging from the change in the footsteps, she had descended a set of stairs and was now advancing down the hall. He counted down.

3…

2…

1…

The porcelain-skinned queen burst through the door into the dungeon, her golden eyes locking onto Asher immediately. There was a flicker of surprise in her gaze, but it quickly turned to rage. Something in him made him look away from her eyes. His gaze drifted down. He noticed her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. He was thankful the gold-trimmed, dark blue gown she was wearing covered more of her form than her night dress did.

“Your Highness! I believe I have you to thank for the incredible hospitality of your kingdom. You’ll forgive me if I don’t stand and curtsy.” He raised his bound wrists. “I’m a little tied up.”

“Are you trying to be funny?” the queen spat back.

“Apparently not,” he muttered.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Forgive me for not introducing myself when we first met in your bedroom.” He jumped up onto his feet and lowered his head in a mocking bow. “My name is Asher.”

Her eyes narrowed at him. The water he stood in splashed up and froze around his feet. He might’ve gone a little too far. His eyes met hers and the chill in his feet shot through him.

“How did you make it into my tower?” she sneered at him.

His lips felt dry as the chill reached them. When he licked them, they felt cold against his tongue. Was she freezing the water inside him?

“Did I impress you with my stealth? By chance, I happen to have some free time. I could give you some training if you’d like. First tip, rethink the shoes. I heard you coming down the stairs down the hall.”

The chill throughout his body pierced him like needles. How fast could he push her to kill him?

“Were you sent here on orders?” she asked.

Asher just clicked his tongue and looked away from her.

She raised her hand. The water from the pool around him gathered and encased him.

“I don’t enjoy repeating myself,” she drawled. “So, I will only say it again once and very slowly so I know you understand me.”

His body started to panic as it realized the air it wanted wouldn’t come. Just a little longer and his wish for it to end would be granted.

“Did someone send you, or did you come on some personal vendetta?” she repeated.

His body convulsed, demanding air, and taking control over from his brain. As death’s shadows drew in for him, he crashed into the ground. The water rushed back to the pool in the cell.

“Answer!” she screamed at him as he pushed himself back up.

“Does it matter?” Asher croaked, gasping for air.

“W-what?” she stuttered, caught off guard

“Does it matter why I’m here? Under the king’s order or because you killed someone I knew. Does it matter? You’re going to have me killed anyway.”

She smiled, amused. “On that point, you’re correct. It doesn’t matter in terms of if you live or die. However, it matters to me if you’re a lone assassin, or the first here on orders.”

“So, you want to know if you can feel safe sleeping again?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She understandably glared at him, but there was a fear hidden behind the rage. He had struck something deeply hidden within her.

“Sleep tight. I’ll most likely have you killed in the morning,” she sneered as she turned to leave the dungeon.

“That’s what I’m hoping for…” Asher muttered, sitting on the bed.

The queen paused at the door, looking back at him. “You want to die?”

“I don’t think anyone truly wants to die,” he replied, looking into her golden eyes. He caught the quick twitch of her eye. He filed that away in his memory before continuing, “I see no point in putting off the inevitable.”

“So, you were the first?”

He let out a frustrated sigh. “How do you figure that?”

“Someone with a vendetta would want to stay alive until it was achieved,” she replied. “Vengeance for daddy and all that.”

He nodded slightly. “Sound logic, but not the entire truth in this case.”

Her eyes filled with amusement. “The sooner you give me the information I want, the sooner you die.”

“We’ve known each other for such a short time, but you already know how to mold me to your will. A promising start to our friendship.” He smiled at her.

She blinked, entertained by him. “Sleep well,” she says before finally walking out of the dungeon.