In the palace, during my imprisonment, I learned that Maven had been made by his mother, formed into the monster he became. There is nothing on earth that can change him or what she did. But Cal was made too. All of us were made by someone else, and all of us have some thread of steel that nothing and no one can cut. I thought Cal was immune to the corruptive temptation of power. How wrong I was. He was born to be a king. It's what he was made for. It's what he was made to want.

What I would do, to myself or anyone else, for the chance to go back home? But no one is there. No one I care about. They're gone, protected, far away. Home is no longer the place we're from. Home is safe with them. I hope.

Only his eyes remain the same. Bronze, red-gold, like iron brought to blazing heat.

Cal stares ahead, as if his eyes alone can set the entire world on fire. I think he wants to. That would make this easier.

I know!" he growls back, his voice guttural. I wonder if all of his fire kind have eyes like his. Eyes that burn and smolder.