Kate ignored the hum of voices as she pondered the rest of her plan. Coming
to this little 'party' had not been on her schedule, and so she'd had to
revise it.
The first opportunity that presented itself, Kate was going to take. And
it looked like her chance was coming sooner than she thought . . .
Pyrte stood up, and banged his pewter goblet upon the table. Silence
descended almost immediately, and Kate got the impression that if it wasn't
out of respect, these people fell silent due to stark fear of the
consequences if they should happen to disturb the peace.
"I," he said rather huskily, the sweet wine having gone to his head after
the third glass, "Have an announcement to make."
But Kate didn't wait to hear the rest of his impromptu speech. She closed her eyes, cleared her thoughts, and brought back memories of all of the terrible things her father had ever done to her.
Anger was what controlled the fire, it was what fueled it and gave it life. Anger, like tinder for a fire, that fed the flames and wrought havoc on those they encountered.
She began with the most recent, and delicately fingered the bruises at her neck. In her Mind's Eye, a spark lighted itself within the darkness . . .
Next came an act that happened a mere fortnight ago - now Kate touched the wound just below her right eye, put there by the dulled blade of a dagger. Now the spark was a glowing ember, an emblem in the darkness of her mind that yearned to break free of the constraints.
But this was taking too long. If Kate continued at this pace, she'd never get another chance like the one she'd gotten tonight. She decided to go for the most horrible thing she could think of, and a lump formed in her throat as she recalled the fateful eve. 'Come here, Katie. Daddy wants to show you something.' Back then, Kate had thought that perhaps her dear Da had a gift for her. She'd been too innocent to even suspect . . .
Rape.
White-hot anger flared up in her soul like a wildfire to dry tinder, and suddenly the meager ember became a dragon, and as it grew, larger and larger upon the hatred that fed it - it Ihissed/I.
Kate shot from her chair as though she'd been seated upon a tack, and screamed her rage into the startled silence of the Great Hall, and hell's fury seemed to spout from her fingertips.
The blaze funneled toward Pyrte, catching both he, and his bodyguards, unawares. They blasted against him, consuming everything in sight with an audible roar, growling and slinking as though of its own accord.
Kate continued to use that horrid memory - a scared little Princess of no more than five years old. In nothing but her smallclothes, beneath the quilts that lay atop her father's bed. Her anger rose, and she screamed uncontrollably at him, the flames burning her Iown/I hands in the process. But she paid the pain no heed . . .
Pyrte had barely begun his speech when a strange sound caught his attention and - A raging torrent of flame bore down on him.
He flung up the weakest shield he had mere seconds before the attack hit; the blow knocked him from his feet and sent him sliding to the wall behind the High Table. He uttered a shout of anger and struggled to his feet, adding barricade upon magical barricade to his defense as the seemingly unending wall of flame tore away at his shields. Who could have done this? His first thought was of an assassin. Someone, somehow, had managed to enter the castle unnoticed and made his way into the Great Hall to complete his deadly plan.
But then he heard the cursing behind the flame, and knew instantly who it was. Kate.
But Kate didn't wait to hear the rest of his impromptu speech. She closed her eyes, cleared her thoughts, and brought back memories of all of the terrible things her father had ever done to her.
Anger was what controlled the fire, it was what fueled it and gave it life. Anger, like tinder for a fire, that fed the flames and wrought havoc on those they encountered.
She began with the most recent, and delicately fingered the bruises at her neck. In her Mind's Eye, a spark lighted itself within the darkness . . .
Next came an act that happened a mere fortnight ago - now Kate touched the wound just below her right eye, put there by the dulled blade of a dagger. Now the spark was a glowing ember, an emblem in the darkness of her mind that yearned to break free of the constraints.
But this was taking too long. If Kate continued at this pace, she'd never get another chance like the one she'd gotten tonight. She decided to go for the most horrible thing she could think of, and a lump formed in her throat as she recalled the fateful eve. 'Come here, Katie. Daddy wants to show you something.' Back then, Kate had thought that perhaps her dear Da had a gift for her. She'd been too innocent to even suspect . . .
Rape.
White-hot anger flared up in her soul like a wildfire to dry tinder, and suddenly the meager ember became a dragon, and as it grew, larger and larger upon the hatred that fed it - it Ihissed/I.
Kate shot from her chair as though she'd been seated upon a tack, and screamed her rage into the startled silence of the Great Hall, and hell's fury seemed to spout from her fingertips.
The blaze funneled toward Pyrte, catching both he, and his bodyguards, unawares. They blasted against him, consuming everything in sight with an audible roar, growling and slinking as though of its own accord.
Kate continued to use that horrid memory - a scared little Princess of no more than five years old. In nothing but her smallclothes, beneath the quilts that lay atop her father's bed. Her anger rose, and she screamed uncontrollably at him, the flames burning her Iown/I hands in the process. But she paid the pain no heed . . .
Pyrte had barely begun his speech when a strange sound caught his attention and - A raging torrent of flame bore down on him.
He flung up the weakest shield he had mere seconds before the attack hit; the blow knocked him from his feet and sent him sliding to the wall behind the High Table. He uttered a shout of anger and struggled to his feet, adding barricade upon magical barricade to his defense as the seemingly unending wall of flame tore away at his shields. Who could have done this? His first thought was of an assassin. Someone, somehow, had managed to enter the castle unnoticed and made his way into the Great Hall to complete his deadly plan.
But then he heard the cursing behind the flame, and knew instantly who it was. Kate.