Antimony didn't have much to do. She couldn't spend time with Hans because Johannes had returned to guard him, and since neither Annelise nor Nora had found a husband at the ball – which their father was rather disappointed in, though he either didn't care or hadn't notice that Antimony had also failed to find a husband – there were no royal weddings to prepare for. There was probably some court function which would happen soon, but Antimony had long since grown tired of sitting around and listening to that sort of gossip. She spent her time exploring the castle and grounds, but since she already knew those better than her own name, she ended up reading.

Once she started, she wondered why she had stopped. It must have been because she hadn't found the right books; the last time she had spent so long in the library was when she was still being tutored, and then she needed to learn about what everyone expected her to learn rather than what she wanted. Now that her tutors no longer cared to teach her, she could read from any books she pleased for as long as she wanted without having to worry about wasting time. She soon spent hours in the library, tucked behind stacks of books, moving only to follow the light or when she noticed that she hadn't eaten for half the day. Even then, she would promise herself that she would move when she reached the end of the page, but then one page became two, then six, and then it was dark and she was nearly faint from hunger, but her mind was so full of knowledge that she didn't mind.

At first, she read whatever she could find. There were books on history that made all the wars and rebellions seem so much more interesting than her tutors had said they were, and great literature – both of the Southern Isles and translated into their language – that would fill her mind with dreams and imaginings for the whole night afterward, and poetry that she would murmur to herself just to hear the way the words felt on her tongue. For a day, she considered becoming a poet, but no matter how often she looked out at the sea or pondered true love, she simply couldn't find the right words to make everything fit the way other poets did. Besides, there was still so much to learn.

The history books didn't only cover the history of the Southern Isles. Antimony learned about the history of far-off countries, from Jugser in the south to Arendelle in the north. It was surprisingly easy to keep track of the various cultures and peoples now that she wasn't forced to memorize them, and she wondered idly if there was anything she could do with that knowledge. The thought didn't last long; her father and eldest brother likely wouldn't want to deal with a girl trying to handle foreign policy, and there were still so many books to read.

After a few days, she centered her interest on mythology. After reading a history book that started mentioning elemental spirits, she realized that, more than anything, she wanted to learn about her mother. She found whatever information on fire elementals that she could and stayed up late, taking notes until her candles had run down.

There was precious little information on fire elementals, and it seemed they weren't native to the Southern Isles. Where they were native to, she couldn't tell, but she did find two other sorts of fiery animals that might be related to them. In the Peloponnesian Archipelago, there were birds that would die in their own funeral pyres only to be reborn from the ashes. In Russkaya, where her mother had come from, there was a being called a firebird, whose feathers glowed as though ablaze. In the pictures she could find of it, it looked rather like a peafowl, but in one tale the firebird was half-bird and half-woman. Perhaps that was where she and her mother had come from.

As to the elementals themselves, it seemed they had incredible powers, most of which seemed to be lighting themselves or other things on fire. They also had a stronger connection to spirits than humans did and could communicate to creatures otherwise known as mythical.

Could that be why Hanna chose me? she wondered one evening as she got ready for bed. She said it was because we were kin, but perhaps she would have chosen me anyway.

If she had seen her cousin after that day, she would have asked that, and would also have asked how she could control her powers. The thought that she might have something inside her that would become an inferno was terrifying, though she never let it show. It wasn't through fear of her own fear; though she had read reports that any sort of emotion could cause a fire elemental to ignite, she had been experiencing emotions her whole life and didn't think it possible that her powers would spring up only after she learned about them.

Learning about them did help her notice things. She had always seen flickers of movement in the halls and in the garden, but whenever she turned to look, there was nothing there. Now she was more cautious when she saw the movements, and one afternoon, she managed to catch sight of one of the creatures. It was a young man, but with two heads, seven hands, three legs, and red skin. His hair and eyes were the blackest Antimony had ever seen, and seven rays of light shone from his body, bright as fire. He sat in a chariot with parrots at the front, and when he saw that she had noticed him, he smiled.

"Greetings, Antimony daughter of Surma," he said, bowing his head in greeting.

Antimony wasn't at all sure how to respond. He looked kind yet frightening, and she had never seen a man quite so alien. After a moment, she bowed in return. "Greetings," she said, and was glad that her voice didn't shake. "I'm afraid I do not know who you are."

"My name is Agni," the man said. "I am a psychopomp, one who brings the dead from this world to the next."

Antimony's breath caught in her throat. She couldn't be doomed to die now. "What do you want with me?" I'm only sixteen, she wanted to say, or, I've only just fallen in love.

The light around Agni seemed to soften, as though dimming from a wildfire to a gentle blaze. "I am not here to take you, Antimony," he said. "I am only here to pay you greetings as one fire spirit to another. It is an honor to be the first psychopomp to meet you."

"The honor is mine," Antimony said, recovering enough to remember the manners instilled in her. She wasn't sure what rank a psychopomp would be, but she would do her best to be as courteous as to a foreign king. "The first? How many more are there?"

"Many more than you could count," Agni said. "I am not of this land and have only ever come to your garden for the same reason I would come to the gardens of other spirits: to say hello."

It felt strange to hear that, as though she might sit down to tea across from a man with two heads and seven hands. "It's a pleasure to meet you, then. Have there been many other psychopomps in my garden?" It would explain the flickers of movement.

"There have. You are in no danger from them; they mean only to observe. Most are friendly enough, though they may frighten you at first." Agni rose and took the reins of his parrots. "I am afraid I must go, but I look forward to meeting you again, Antimony. We are kin, in a way, as we are both beings of fire."

She wanted to ask if he had known her mother, or if it was possible that she really was descended from a firebird, but there was a look in Agni's eyes that said he would not be detained, so instead she bowed her head and said, "Farewell, and happy journeys until we meet again."

Agni smiled, and there seemed to be flames dancing in his eyes. "Before I go, I would like to give you a gift. Give me your hand."

Antimony held out her hand, wondering what sort of gift this might be, and if she would always end up receiving gifts from mystical creatures with some connection to her. As Agni took her hand, she realized that his skin was hot, hotter than anything she had ever felt, but it did not burn her. It didn't even hurt, though she jumped when their hands caught fire and hers continued to blaze but without burning when Agni released her.

"A parting gift," Agni said, "and a promise of friendship." Before Antimony could find any words to say, he was gone, flying into the sky on parrot wings and fire.

Antimony saw no other psychopomps that day. She was too busy watching the fire in her hand. It felt right for it to be there, as though it was a part of her. It seemed it was as much a part of her as her own hand, for it rose and fell with her thoughts, just as easily as she could open and close her other hand. She didn't allow it to rise up her arms for fear it would smolder her gown – and there would surely be someone who would notice that, if only the laundresses when it was washed – but she did allow it to jump from one hand to the other, and even hover between them, though that was harder to control.

She was a fire elemental, she realized with a thrill. She was truly her mother's daughter, and Agni had given her the birthright that came with that.

When she returned inside, she was late for dinner but accepted her father's scolding silently. She had lost herself in playing with the flame, and it had been irresponsible, though she was sure she would do it again. She ate in silence and, as soon as the meal was finished, raced to the library to see if she could find a royal genealogy.

There wasn't one that would give her any details on her mother, and all she had was the family tree written into one of the books. On one page was contained her mother.

Surma, daughter of Avgust of Russkaya, wed to Hjalmar of the Southern Isles, mother of Antimony, died of childbirth complications.

There were a few dates attached to the words, but that was all. Queen Surma was known only through her father, husband, daughter, and death. There was no mention of her fire, nor of the sort of woman she had been. Antimony read the words over and over, but they told her nothing new. She wanted to know what her mother's laugh had sounded like, what sort of fruits she had loved, how she felt when she was sent off to marry King Hjalmar. She wanted to know whether her hair had been as bright red as her husband's and daughter's and whether she had known what would happen.

She wanted her own life to be more than just her connections to three people.

With a sigh, she closed the book and put it away. As she walked through the halls, she took a candle with her and made the flame grow and shrink. The simple action made her smile, but when she reached the hall that led to Hans's cell, her smile faded until it vanished, and the flame dwindled.

Johannes was still there.

Making the candle light again, Antimony walked slowly to her room, pausing only to look out a window to the sea.