The Beginning of Everything Read online Kristen Ashley (The Rising #1)

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Rising Series by Kristen Ashley
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Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 137958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
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I forced myself to nod.

He gave me a squeeze with his arm and for the first time since he knew me, his voice held humor. “But your magic is appreciated.”

That was endearing.

As much as I wanted to think of my husband as endearing, I could not.

The Wall of Fire of Firenze was getting closer.

So I made myself nod again.

Aramus gave me another squeeze before I felt his lips leave my ear.

I found I was correct.

As we grew even closer, the Wall of Fire stretched across the horizon and rose three stories into the air. One could see it was made of great logs coated in glistening black beneath the red-hot flames.

And when we were but one hundred yards from the gates, with a mighty shriek, they started to open, still aflame.

I put even more effort into keeping my breath modulated as my husband held my back tucked tight to his hefty front and our steed did not falter as we rode through.

Once through, I saw it was unnecessary, as nothing could get over that wall, but it was there: ten-foot wide pits filled with bubbling tar abutted the wall on the inside. And if a being could jump that wall (which they could not, unless they had magic, or a catapult), they would not at first sink in that tar. The pits were covered with stanchions, the peaks of which were honed to lethal points.

So if you did not burn to death, or sink through the tar, you impaled yourself.

These fortifications told true the tales of this warring nation and its efforts to keep the citizens of this city safe.

I was so enthralled by all of this, I didn’t notice at first.

And I might not have noticed it then if my husband’s hand spanning my side did not grip my flesh in what felt like a reflexive gesture.

It was then I saw the people. People I had seen on occasion during our journey, nomads and much more populace around the many rivers, brooks and streams that snaked green with vegetation through the vast austere plains and dunes of sand.

Black hair, brown skin, tall, the adults pierced profusely, even the children had piercings in ears and nostrils.

And they were running toward us.

My body tensed head to toe.

And then the petals flew.

The cheer went up.

Some threw coins at our feet.

And men arrived with bows fit with arrows which made me gather my magic again, the small of my back tingling, only for their women to light parcels affixed to the tips and for the men to aim the flaming arrows in the air and let fly. Arrows that then exploded in mid-air with a small pop! before their shafts fell harmless to the ground.

“Salu, Prottetori dei Mari!” they shouted.

“Salu, La Grande Bellaza del Mar!” the cheered.

“Do you know what they’re saying?” I whispered as I saw a young boy bend low and toss coins in our path as a girl at his side smiled brightly up at us as she threw crimson flower petals into the air.

“Hail, Protector of the Seas. Hail, The Greatest Beauty of the Sea,” Aramus translated.

Clapping, cheering, coin and petal throwing and arrow releasing as more and more Firenz raced to line the road winding through the Fire City to watch the King and Queen of Mar-el ride through.

“They’re celebrating us,” my husband said, sounding even more surprised than I was at our reception.

“Yes,” I breathed, smiling down at a small girl child who’d thrown a paltry amount of petals which was all she could hold in her little hand.

They barely lifted inches in front of her before they flew back in her face.

But she caught my smile, her face froze in wonder, then she whirled and shouted, “Mama! Lei mi ha sorriso! La Grande Bellaza mi ha sorriso!”

“She smiled at me,” Aramus told me. “The Greatest Beauty smiled at me.”

“I don’t think we need my magic anymore,” I muttered.

And then I heard what I had heard often during our voyage, but when I’d heard it, it was not something I had earned.

My husband’s deep, silken chuckling.

I had liked it when it was unearned by me.

I liked it so much more when it was mine.

Oh, but I’d made a blunder.

I released my magic and we rode through Fire City, a phalanx that was testimony to the strength of our nation, and we did it on a path glinting with gold, silver and pewter, through air drifting profusely with crimson petals, to Catrame Palace.

I saw the palace was situated on a rise that was not far from the base of a high mountain that started dusty and beige, grew to lush and green, and spiked into the sky black with rivers cut through it of snow white.

As we approached it, riding through lush foliage to do so, I caught my breath.


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