Page 80 of Ruby & Onyx

The conco at the head of the pack charges forward with hunger flaring in his nostrils. Fire arcs into the air in a spray of light, landing directly on the massive, bony creature. Its cries turn from predatory to pained as it shrieks and rolls over to extinguish the fur on its back. The concos emerging behind it come to a skittering halt at the sight.

A wall of fire begins to form between us. It’s dancing high and wide, starting from Guylita’s cottage and running through the clearing. I strain to keep it from consuming her home, using all of my mental energy to do so, but the flames envelop it within a matter of seconds.

“Let’s go!” Gemma cries.

I hop on the horse, careful not to let go of that connection. And only once we’re both riding, do let go of my focus. I refuse to look back to see what happens next. We keep our speed at full throttle until no signs of concos remain – no thudding paws, no vicious barks, no cries of burning pain.

Gemma’s face is terror-stricken and tear-stained when we approach the path that leads back to the palace. “How did you do that?” She asks through panting breaths.

“I have no idea.” Sir Magis taught me to conjure flames once, but never in a million years did I think that I would use it to escape a conco attack. I thought maybe I’d light a candle once or something. “Come on, let’s head back to the palace before anything else decides to attack.”

How did I do that?

All I wanted was to protect my friend, and the flames seemed to find me.

But Guylita’s cottage… oh, gods. What have I done?

I am a monster through and through.

After everything, after all of these sacrifices, I still failed. Guylita wasn’t even there. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t move when we first heard the concos. I was too broken, shattered by extinguished hope. Maybe I am so broken inside that death doesn’t feel quite so scary. I lost all connections to my past the moment I left Carcera. Or, quite frankly, the moment my mother died. And, without Guylita’s answers, I lost hope for the future, too.

I’m stuck between past and future, hope and despair. I am numb to the fate that awaits me.

“Gemma?” I ask when we’re nearly in sight of the palace walls.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t tell anyone about the concos, please.”

Despite the confusion written on her face, she nods.

I don’t want anyone to know what I’m capable of. For once, I want to be the one that holds a secret.

Chapter 35

“You two look worse than I do” was all Viola said when we returned. Gemma and I came up with a lie about needing fresh air. Viola didn’t seem to buy it but didn’t press the issue any further, probably gathering that whatever the hell happened out there didn’t include rainbows and sunshine.

I regret ever having gone there. For ever having the nerve to think that life might bend to my wishes. I hate myself for involving Gemma in a fool’s errand that put her life in danger. Who knows whether or not Guylita knew anything about the prophecy? Would it have been worse to get there only to find out that she knew nothing? I spent the rest of the evening pondering that question, digging myself further and further into a miserable hole.

My lesson the following day might have been the least productive of them all. With Olly still at the border and the shadow of mystery still shrouding my future, I couldn’t clear enough mind space to produce even the simplest magic. So instead of allowing Sir Magis to humiliate me with incompetence, I ended our lesson early and began looking for a quiet place to escape.

I wandered through the winding hallways counting the statues and studying paintings until I stumbled upon the tiny room with the tiny figurines placed atop a not so tiny map. I squeeze in front of one of the six tall-backed chairs to lean over the table and study the configuration. Ten figurines are still outside the border like before, but now there are two figurines on the Mendacian side of the border, north of Carcera, and one very close to Somne. The lone figurine is right along the coast, just south of Somne’s city center. If I’m not mistaken, it might be near the palace.

What exactly does that mean? I know that Olly is at the border dealing with some skirmish there, so the figurines near the border probably represent the action there. Could it be one figurine for each person? Each hundred? Each thousand? It’s a little disconcerting to see that two appear to have crossed the border. Could an Umbrian troop have broken past the barrier that Liliana described? Or perhaps they were already here? My chest tightens as my eyes fall back on the lone figurine.

Does that mean that our enemy has breached the palace? I have neither the energy nor the will to fight a war.

The overwhelming sense of dread bubbling up in my gut lurches when muffled male voices pierce through the tapestry-covered wall. Part of me wants to walk away and pretend that I never heard, but the other part of me wants to listen just in case they let some vital piece of information slip about the prophecy or the impending war.

My curiosity gets the better of me once again, and I pull back the thick fabric from the wall and press my ear against it.

“She’s detained,” the cold, hissing voice makes me shiver.

“Good. That’s good. And you’re sure that she never got a chance to speak with Radya?”

My name.

I go so still that my breathing nearly halts.

---