“What if I reverted you all?” I suggest. “You could get to know yourself and your children. Sure, it wouldn’t guarantee they’d listen to you, but the consequences wouldn’t need to be so severe when they don’t.” Severe like death. Yikes.

“Yes, and what if the sky opened up to rain unicorns? We could all ride around on rainbows, eating lollipops and never getting cavities.”

“What’s so ridiculous about all of you embracing humanity?”

“You think me single sighted, and for the most part I am,” he admits. “I make no apologies for my science or the things I do for the cause, but this has become so much bigger.”

“You genuinely lack the leader flair. Nothing you’ve done has anything to do with the greater good. It’s all been about making a greater you.”

“That’s fair, but if I’m to sit on the throne, I still have to protect my seat, lest someone take it for themselves. These two.” He points to Cathain and Alexandria. “They’re dim-witted enough to believe they deserve to sit at my side. When the Tribunal is defeated, we’ll be in the position we need to be. You’ll see to that, and these two won’t be kicking around to do something foolish enough to make my subjects doubt my rightful position. They’re a liability termination will prevent.”

“I’m not fighting the Tribunal.”

“Isn’t that the point of these experiments?” he counters. “Isn’t that why you agreed to my provisions in the first place? You want the departure stones.”

“To get my mother back,” I clarify. “It has nothing to do with fighting the Tribunal. I’m not one of your Rebels. I’m not supporting your cause.”

“How will you get her back?”

Point to Tayte. I’m not quite there in the plan parade. Step one is getting the departure stones. Step two is regaining control of my fire fuel from Tayte. I’m stuck on step one, which is ethically problematic. So long as Tayte’s making me heel, I’m not getting those stones in a way my conscience can accept.

“Not your problem,” I deflect.

“Everything’s my problem in one way or another, and I always deal with my problems.”

I look toward Cathain and Alexandria. “You’re not dealing with them. You’re trying to force me to do your dirty work.”

“I didn’t say I always deal with my problems directly. I said I always deal with my problems.”

“You’d probably find it a lot more satisfying to handle your own business,” I point out.

“You may find it equally satisfying to accept the things others want to give you,” he offers. “For instance, I’m giving you this glorious gift. All you need do is choose.”

I snort derisively. “Not interested.”

“Is it that you want both? Is that the trouble? You’re a greedy child?”

“I want neither.”

“Then you’re a rude child. Unpleasant. Not accepting gifts. Children these days incessantly disappoint their parents. You know what it’ll take to keep from disappointing your father, don’t you? You’ll need to get your mother back. You can’t do that without the stones, Sheyla. You won’t get them unless I get what I want.”

More points to Tayte. I’ve repeatedly disappointed my father and mother. The hope of them finally having a happily ever after keeps me going while everything falls apart around me. Somehow, they need to end up together. I’ve endured so much to get Mom back. Not the half-baked cake version, either. She’s fully back and totally out of my reach without those stones. The issue is, they wouldn’t forgive me if being together came at the cost of choosing their happiness over someone’s life, even if that someone was Alexandria or Cathain. “I’m not choosing,” I assert.

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“You get to choose who to revert,” he reiterates, “but you don’t get to choose whether you do it. I’m sorry if I wasn’t clear on that point.”

“Well, I’m sorry if I wasn’t clear on my point. Hard no on both.”

“You’re forgetting the provisions associated with our arrangement.”

I’m well aware he holds my power. He’s waved that leash in front of my face several times. He thinks he controls me, but no one can truly control my fire. Not even me. “I’m not forgetting.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes to see this through to the end,” he informs me. “I’ll see the mighty Tribunal fall and the empire collapse. I’ll see it all erupt in the flames you create. Then, I’ll watch it burn from the throne I’ve secured.”

House fire accosts my nostrils when his speech should’ve elicited a waft of charcoal BBQ. He’s not proud. He’s scared. What’s he scared of? Letting me off leash? That’s exactly it. He’s scared to die. That’s his key weakness. That’s why he’ll lose. Tayte wants to live more than he wants to win. Worse than being forever forced to wear the mask of someone else is wearing no mask at all. He’s suckered me into playing a game with him, after all.

At the end of the day, it all boils down to him. He won’t risk endangering himself. He’s threatened me with my power. He’s even given me a tiny taste of what it has the potential to do, but he won’t let it consume me. Why? Because in consuming me, it’ll consume everyone around me, including him. He’ll be in the line of fire, and that simply won’t do. Dude is bluffing like nobody’s business. I’m sure of it. I’d bet my life—and his—on it.

“Do it,” I encourage him. “If that’s what it comes down to, do it.”

Like him, I’ll do whatever it takes. Maybe I can’t make it work, but I absolutely won’t stop trying. The throne doesn’t hold my interest. Nor does the Tribunal. The only thing I care about is my family. That desire is infinitely stronger than his desire for power since I’m not fighting for me, and I’m not fighting alone.

I’m ready for it. His intent is to warn me what he’s capable of, but even though he holds my power, he’s forgetting how powerful I am with it. When it roars into me, I let it freely wander, constrained only in the release. It’s a give and take he didn’t predict. Something he can’t understand. Acceptance and compromise. Those are foreign concepts to him.

I fixate on the point of release. He meant only to give me a taste and yoink it once he scared me into submission. He thought he’d be in control of the retraction. Wrong. When I push it back, I push with all my might right through the barn door he’s carelessly left open. Fire flies are all up in his business now. He overestimated his strength…or underestimated mine. Either. Or. Same outcome. Dead wrong.

My fire fuel ignites him in an instant. His skin erupts in flames before he’s even opened his mouth to scream out in pain. The smell? Flesh fire. So gross. In seconds, all that’s left of him is a billowing pile of ash and a departure stone in the center of it.

I don’t say a word as I untie Cathain. She makes quick work of freeing her sister. I’m not expecting a thank you, but I figure they’ll at least be happy to live and breathe another day. Yeah, no. No fireplace here. Only bonfire, as their hatred overcomes their sadness, and they blame me for Daddy’s demise. I’m hardly in a position to change their minds. They saw the whole thing with their own eyes. Best to let them defer to their grief stages. They skipped the first two. I’d say they’re processing well.

“You’ll burn for this,” Alexandria seethes.

“You better run. I’m just getting warmed up.”

They run. Of course they run.

I pick up the notebook from the desk, where Tayte dutifully wrote down all his research notes. I skim it. There are so many answers to questions I hadn’t even thought to ask, all scattered throughout the beautifully handwritten pages. I light it on fire, tossing it in the metal wastebasket like the trash it is.

I pick up the departure stone, closing my hand around it. How could touching it make me feel worse? How could avenging the unnecessary deaths of Flint and Gundy make me feel worse? While indirect, their deaths were a direct result of my actions. The same is true for Brody. Yet, it is worse. Directly killing someone is immeasurably worse. Even someone like Tayte.

Alexandria didn’t scare me with her threat. She’s right. I deserve to burn. The blood on my hands won’t wash away. Nothing is more terrifying than what I’ve become. I’m a murderer. There’s no coming back from that.

Saving myself isn’t an option anymore, if it ever was. All my focus needs to be on saving humanity from the insatiable hunger indiscriminately consuming everything in its wake. My fire demands release, and I’ve nearly expended all available resources in keeping it contained.

Everything I try to do keeps working in reverse. Everything I think is pulling me toward what I’m meant to do is just driving me further from my goal. I wanted to improve things, to beat impossible odds using the curse of my birthright as more than a means to destroy. That isn’t happening. I deserve my fiery fate. I’ll burn for what I did. The trick will be making sure no one else burns with me.