Page 83 of Spark of the Everflame

I glanced over my shoulder into the darkness of a nearby alley. My eyes squinted as I peered closer, scouring the shadows.

“Father,” the third man said, drawing my focus back to the men, “I have to agree with my Brother. She’s a Bellator. She shouldn’t be here. It will cause too many problems when...” He stopped himself, but he tipped his head to me with a loaded frown.

The man in the center—the man I now realized was thisFatherthey kept referring to—glanced back at the guard I’d socked. “And you, Brother—what do you think? Is she more trouble than she’s worth?”

His lips spread into an enormous grin. “Oh, it’s up tome, is it?”

I almost groaned.

He sauntered over until he was standing so close, the folds of my cloak brushed against the dark curls that sprang free from his half-bared chest. I wanted to choke on the smug arrogance on his face, but I forced myself to fix my chin high.

His hand rose to my face as if to grab it once again. I jerked back and raised a clenched fist in warning. Even if I’d already lost, I sure as hell would go down swinging.

He laughed and dropped his arm. “You got fight in you, girl. We need more of your kind around here.” He turned back to the man in the center. “I say let her in.”

“Then it’s decided,” the Father said. A dark smile curved his lips. “Welcome to the Guardians of the Everflame.”

ChapterNineteen

From what I’d seen of Henri’s rebel friends in Fortos, I had expected the Guardians to be an assortment of brusque, overbuilt soldier types, the kind of men that usually swarmed around my father like bees on freshly bloomed mint.

And although plenty of men of fighting age clumped together, slapping each other’s shoulders and laughing raucously as they talked, it was everyone else milling about in the crowded meeting room that caught me by surprise.

Women—and lots of them—of various ages, many of whom I recognized. A seamstress who knew my mother well, a few sex workers I recognized from the Garden, a former classmate chatting with our old teacher. Children, too—some not even old enough to have finished school, their faces still round with youth and pocked with teenage blemishes. And a number of elderly, too old to fight, but perhaps still willing to put their lives on the line in other ways.

There was even one of my own trainees from the healers’ center. Lana, the girl who had accompanied Maura and me to the palace on my first visit, rushed over to Henri and began chatting animatedly with him before her eyes caught on me hovering in the background.

Her face drained of color. Mine might well have done the same.

The instinct rose in me to judge her—to march over and scold her for putting her future as a healer on the line. It was harder than I wanted to admit to remember I no longer had any moral high ground to stand on.

I didn’t dare make too much eye contact with anyone. My presence here still felt like an unwelcome intrusion, a violation of something deeply intimate and fiercely guarded. They, on the other hand, watched me like predators on the prowl. I wilted beneath the burn of countless eyes as I slumped into a seat near the exit and stared at my open palms.

A door in the front opened, and the man they called the Father strolled in, flanked by the same two men. The room went quiet, and everyone hurriedly made their way into the scattered chairs. Henri slid into the seat beside me and lazily reclined back, his arm draped across my shoulders.

“Who are those three men?” I whispered.

“The one in the center, the man who let you in—his name is Vance. We call him the Father because he leads the Lumnos cell of the Guardians. The one on the left is Brant, the one on the right is Francis. They’re Vance’s second- and third-in-command.”

“You told me the Guardians were run by a woman.”

“She’s in another realm on a mission. Vance is leading us now.”

I frowned, my heart drooping. A small part of my drive to join the Guardians had been to meet whatever mystery woman had carved out such a unique position of power.

“What was the mission?” I asked.

“I’m not sure. Vance doesn’t share specific details on missions until they’re over. It limits the damage if anyone betrays us.”

I bit back my response. Frankly, if anyone betrayed them, everyone in this room would be dead soon anyway.

“Welcome, everyone,” Vance announced loudly. “Blessed is the Everflame.”

“Emarion soil, we shall reclaim,” the room chanted in unison.

I nudged Henri. “You didn’t mention there were secret passwords.”

“You’ll learn them after the blood rite.”

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