All That Burns by Ryan Graudin Read Free Book Online

“There’s no need to worry the king with this. Not until we know more. It could be that this prisoner just wants to be free. That it will disappear altogether.”
    Wind licks the cliffside, stealing the last of Titania’s words and tossing them into the waters like they’re nothing. They are. Nothing. All of us felt the stains of anger on those prison walls. The kind of rage which never fades away. The kind of rage which demands revenge.
    The Labyrinth’s black shadows have spilled into the world, calling for blood. Both Alistair and Kieran are staring at the vastness of the sea. It’s almost as if they can see the doom on the other shore. Pieces of it dance behind their eyes.
    Kieran finally tears his gaze away. It lands straight on me. My stomach tightens and my skin prickles. He has the darkness of the Labyrinth behind each and every word when he speaks.
    “I wouldn’t count on it.”

Four
    E very muscle in my body is cramped from those hours on the Kelpie. Even without heels on, my feet wobble like dangerously placed dominos. I’ve been in this mortal form for two months, yet it still amazes me that only forty sleepless hours can weaken me so completely.
    I shuffle into the sitting room and Richard is there: curled on a settee, asleep. His cheek is smudged against its embroidered cushion, hands bunched in front of his face. He’s still wearing his tuxedo—wrinkled black and stark white. He must have stayed up all night. Waiting for me.
    The coffee table supports my theory. Its surface is cluttered with signs of Richard’s sleepless night. His laptop is perched there, covered with papers and illegible ink notes. A tray of tea and untouched biscuits sits beside it. And next to that is a newspaper, splayed wide. There are the usual headlines: UNDERGROUND TRAINS MALFUNCTIONING ON THE CIRCLE LINE and THE SECOND LIGHTS - DOWN : ARE YOU READY ?
    And then there’s me.
    I’m all over the front page. Pictured mid-leap. Loose hair flares like fire around my shoulders. The flowers and frills of my dress parachute, showing a good deal of leg.
    Probably not what Anabelle meant when she told me to impress the press.
    Richard’s face is on the edge of the photograph, its expression made of agony. His hand grasps at empty space. Reaching for someone already gone.
    T URMOIL ON THE T HAMES
    One of the year’s most anticipated social events was crashed by an unwelcome guest on Friday evening. Lord and Lady Winfred’s guests were being wined and dined to perfection when a monster appeared in the water.
    “It was shiny and black!” said one eyewitness, Doris Hapsley, a waitress at the Winfreds’ gala. “It kept ramming into the boat, trying to sink us. I thought for sure I was going to die.”
    The most notable attendees of the evening—King Richard and his escort, Lady Emrys Léoflic—were predictably in the middle of the fray. Britain’s fledgling king and the former Fae were spotted in a heated argument just moments before the redhead threw herself over the side.
    “It was very clear they were upset with each other,” ElaineForsythe, the new wife of rising-star politician Julian Forsythe, told us. “He grabbed her arm and she tore away.”
    Both Lady Emrys and the creature disappeared moments after. No sign of Lady Emrys has been seen since.
    Officer Eric Black of the king’s Protection Command also reports that the gala’s table centerpieces were composed of the poisonous flower birdsfoot trefoil. One of these deadly bouquets was placed at the center of King Richard’s table. Whether an assassination attempt or a bungling florist, Black and the other officers have declined to comment.
    Both incidents are ill-timed for the king and his pro-Fae supporters, who will be celebrating their second Lights-down this weekend. They call into question the safety of immortal integration, as well as the general public’s support. For some, including M.A.F. leader Julian Forsythe, even the holy grail of self-sustaining