Chapter 12 - Fire in the Drowned Anchor
"You walked right into the parlor, little taster," Bryce sneered, sliding a heavy iron stiletto from his sleeve.
Clara did not flinch. She felt the ancient crown pulse against her brow, sending a cold, electric current racing down her spine and into her fingertips. She looked past Bryce to the barred doors of the tavern, where Tomas was already raising his crossbow, backed by the sudden, crashing entry of Jared and the royal guards through the side windows.
"You assume I came here to negotiate," Clara said softly.
She slammed her hand down onto the wooden table.
A shockwave of pure, golden kinetic energy erupted outward from her palm. The massive oak table shattered into a thousand harmless splinters, throwing Bryce backward across the room into a stack of empty ale barrels.
The entire tavern convulsed as the ancient power of Edrin surged through the floorboards. The blue-tinted flames of the wall sconces flared violently, casting long, writhing shadows that seemed to disarm the cutthroats before they could even strike.
"Guard the exits!" Jared roared, his broadsword flashing in the blue firelight as he intercepted three charging smugglers with a single, practiced sweep.
Tomas fired his crossbow, pinning the sleeve of a fleeing thug to the timber wall with pinpoint accuracy. "Yield or bleed!" the boy shouted, his voice cracking with a fierce, authoritative ring that echoed his sister’s command.
Bryce scrambled out from the broken barrels, clutching a bleeding shoulder, his eyes wide with absolute terror as he stared at the silver-haired queen standing untouched amidst the chaos. He lunged toward a hidden floor hatch behind the bar, desperate to escape into the sea tunnels below.
Clara moved faster. With a single leap, she crossed the room, her hand catching Bryce by the velvet collar of his coat and lifting him effortlessly off his feet before slamming him against the damp stone wall.
"The registry, Bryce," Clara commanded, her silver eyes burning with a terrifying, unearthly light. "Where is the master list of your spies?"
Bryce choked, his hands clawing uselessly at her iron grip. "Burn... burn in hell..." he gasps out.
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"I already lived through hell in Malrec’s kitchens," Clara whispered coldly. "A damp cellar in Oakhaven won't scare me."
With a flick of her wrist, she hurled him onto the floor at Jared’s feet. "Tie him up. Every name in his registry will be audited by dawn."
