Page 116 of A Sun Scorched Bloom

"I’ve found a way to help us. At least, I think I have." Emma untucked the hair from behind her ear, hiding her face behind it.

"Will you tell me more?" Thomas’s voice was gentle, a soothing balm against the anxious buzzing that always made her fingers need to fidget or her toes to tap.

"Well. It started as a way to control my magic. I don’t want to always see…" Emma didn’t even want to say the words.

"I understand." Thomas laid a hand on her back, and her skin instantly heated. "Did you learn something that can help with that?"

"Not about how to stop it. But something happened in the Wicked Wood. I watched one of the dead try to strike at a nabis and join in the battle. He wanted to help, but couldn’t, and it made me wonder. Their spirits are still here. They can interact with me. What if there was a way for them to fight with us?"

"You mean join the rebellion?" Thomas sat up straighter.

Emma forced herself to make eye contact, her palms growing sweaty. "I mean soldiers who can kill without being killed again."

Something unrecognizable danced in Thomas’s eyes, and it unsettled her. She was used to being able to sense people’s feelings. So why couldn’t she now?

"An army of the dead," he said, his words laced with awe. "Our army is half the size of the Black King’s, if that. Emma, this could change everything! Could it save them, too?"

Emma shook her head. "No. Their soul would still be severed from their body. Once that happens, there's no way to connect it again." A lump formed in Emma's throat, and she swallowed. "I don’t like to think about it too much. It almost feels cruel, asking so much of someone who just lost their life. But we have to ask them, right? Because if every soldier that falls is willing to keep fighting, it gives us a chance."

Thomas scooted closer, pressing himself against her shoulder to look at the page, and Emma’s heart skipped. "I promise you, any soldier who was willing to risk leaving their home to come fight with us knows the likelihood of their death. I’m not doing this for a better life for me. I joined the rebellion for a better life for every single person living in Desia, for my family. If I could continue to fight after I died, I would do it without hesitation."

Emma closed her eyes and sucked in a breath as she rubbed her chest. The thought of Thomas dying in the battle was physically painful. "I know that, rationally. I do. It just feels like such a big thing to ask of someone."

"And it’s a sacrifice we would all make," Thomas said firmly. "How did you figure this out? It’s… It’s nothing short of brilliant." There was that look in his eye again… The one that she couldn’t quite identify.

"When I was in Calir, King Tanad let me use his library. Well… You knew that already." Emma felt a blush creeping up her neck. "It was very kind of him. He didn’t have to do that." She began tapping her feet together. "Or allow his head librarian to spend all his time helping me. He was so kind. I don’t think I would have been able to get through all this information without him. I’d like to visit him again. Once the war is over, of course." Emma gestured to the many books laid out around her, and Thomas stiffened.

"Sorry, I’m rambling again, aren’t I?"

"No. You’re perfect." He tilted his head, pressing his lips together as he hid a smirk. "Go on."

"When we were in the Wicked Wood and I saw the dead, the soldiers had the things that they’d carried with them when they were killed. I saw swords and arrows and shields, rope and cloaks. I thought that maybe since I could communicate with them, there could be a way for them to interact with the physicalworld as well..."

Reaching toward the head of the bed, Emma picked up a small leather-bound text. It was red, and completely inconspicuous. "This book has a story of someone else who had my same power. They discovered a way to let the dead connect with the world. Cora—that was her name—used the power for more noble reasons than what I’m trying to do." That familiar feeling of guilt that had followed her ever since she had the idea of the army of the dead gnawed at Emma’s insides. "She used it to allow loved ones to interact with those who had passed. They couldn’t speak, but they could touch them, hug them. Hold them one more time. And I wondered, if they could do all that, maybe they could do evenmore."

Thomas stared at her with an open mouth, his eyes shining with complete awe. "You’re amazing, Emma."

Emma shook her head, trying to push down the bubbles of nervous energy working their way up her throat, wholly uncomfortable with his praise. "This power of mine, it feels like a curse. Not a gift at all. But, maybe it could be if I could use it for good? Maybe…" Emma trailed off.

"It would make it worth it," Thomas finished for her.

"Yes. It might make it easier to deal with the bad if something useful can come of it. At least I hope that it will." She planned on using her gift to allow people to get closure, and would offer that service to the families of soldiers after the war. It was entirely possible she wouldn’t be strong enough to witness that much pain, but Emma hoped that the closure those mothers and brothers would get would be enough to get her through the hard days.

"Have you told Gray?"

"Not yet. I’ve been reading about how to do it, but Thomas, can I be honest with you?"

"Of course." He opened his arms, and Emma wondered if he was offering her an embrace or just being sincere with her.

"It scares me, opening myself up like that. What if I am a coward? What if I can’t do it?" A drop of blood appeared where Emma picked at the side of her fingernail.

Thomas’s jaw dropped. "First, you are stronger than you know, Emma. Youcando it. I've never been more certain of anything. Second, you will see the dead either way." He trailed his knuckles down her cheek, turning her to face him, and her stomach tightened. "Won't it be a little easier if seeing them does something more than just torture you?" His stare made her heart thump erratically, and suddenly she was almost choking on the need to change the subject.

"Anyway. That’s what I’ve been working on." She forced a smile. "You wanted to go get something to eat?" Thomas had been busy making weapons for the rebellion, working most nights until sunup, and then resting during the day. Muffins weren’t nearly enough to sustain him with all the power he was using. Plus, she’d hardly seen him since they’d arrived. Not that she blamed him, of course. They all had a role to play in this war—all had sacrifices they’d have to make.

"Yes, well, I really just wanted to talk to you." Thomas seemed nervous, ducking his head and running his hand through his now-short hair. "I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately," he confessed, finally meeting Emma’s eyes.

"Why would you do that?" Emma asked, her nerves making the words sound harsh and the butterflies in her stomach turning into massive birds whose wings were so big it felt like they were trying to crack her ribs. She tapped her fingers against her leg, desperate to get some of the anxious energy out of her body.

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