Kingdom of Ash

That voice. She hated that voice above all
others. Crooning and cold.
He wore a warrior’s garb, but no warrior’s
weapons hung from the belt at his slim waist.
Cairn noted where her eyes fell and patted
the heavy hammer dangling from his hip. “So
eager for more.”
There was no flame to rally to her. Not an
ember.
He stalked to the small pile of logs by one
brazier and fed a few to the dying fire. It
swirled and crackled, leaping upon the wood
with hungry fingers.
Her magic didn’t so much as flicker in
answer. Everything she ate and drank through
the small slot in the mask’s mouth was laced
with iron.
She’d refused it at first. Had tasted the iron
and spat it out.
She’d gone to the brink of dying from lack