Chapter 34 · Let the Blood Burn

The crown mark on Arlen's palm wouldn't stop bleeding.

He pressed it against the cold iron housing of the ninth lamp, and the whole machine shuddered. Blood ran down the metal in thin lines, pooling in the sand grooves carved into the base. The other eight lamps were already dark. He'd smashed their cores one by one, listening to the voices inside scream and go quiet. But this one—the last one—it needed more than breaking.

It needed royal blood. And he was the last living proof that the Ashmar crown had survived.

"Alto."

Lira's voice came from behind him. Close. Too close. He didn't turn.

"Go back to the camp," he said.

She didn't move. He heard her boots scrape sand, stepping forward instead.

"I'm not leaving you here."

"You don't know what this is."

"Then tell me."

Arlen exhaled through his teeth. His hand was still pressed to the lamp, and the machine was drinking. He could feel it pulling at the mark, trying to read the old command code written into his bloodline. The Ashmar kings had built this thing three generations back, before the federation even existed.