Page 39 of Spark of the Everflame

If any man finds himself facing my Diem on a battlefield, the best end he can hope for is that she makes it quick, he had joked.

I smiled at the memory.

“That’s not true,” Henri argued. “Most of the army’s spies are women.”

“Spies?” My eyebrows flew upward. “If I’d known that, maybe I would have enlisted.”

I was only half joking.

Henri grabbed my braid, tickling my nose with the end of it. “Something tells me the only girl in Emarion with bright white hair and grey eyes might have a few problems sneaking around unrecognized.”

I swatted him away and laughed, but a twinge of sadness lodged in my ribs. He had a point. My distinctive appearance meant I might never be able to leave the safety of Mortal City, where enough townsfolk knew my mortal heritage that being mistaken for a Descended was never more than a passing risk.

In a world where mortals survived by blending in and avoiding attention, I was a walking red flag.

“Where did you hear that—about the army spies?”

Henri’s posture shifted almost indiscernibly. “I used to know one. I delivered messages for her.” He frowned at me. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

The question took me by surprise, and I realized I’d been absently rubbing at my still-aching skin. I gave one last glance behind me to the abrupt edge of the forest’s growth. I’d passed over the Lumnos-Fortos border countless times in my life, but never had I felt anything like that.

“I’m fine. Just a fluke, I suppose.”

We shared a look, neither of us quite convinced. With no other answers to give, we continued on in silence toward the mighty capital of Fortos.

* * *

A few hours later,I found myself in a nondescript concrete box of a warehouse, humming as I browsed shelf after shelf of glass jars containing every item under the sun. The army stocked medicinal ingredients native to all nine realms, and Maura had sent a list of supplies that needed refilling back at the center.

“Thank you for letting us do this,” I called out from behind a row of fluffy dried mosses and curling strips of ashen tree bark. “It’s become so hard for mortals to get these things lately.”

“Anything for Auralie,” a robust but kindly voice rebounded in response. “I owe her more debts than I can count. The least I can do is let her daughter rob me blind now and then.”

“Wehavetried to pay you, Leona. Many times.”

“Oh, please. Bellator money is no good in these parts. If I tried to take it, Blessed Fortos himself might show up and strike me dead.”

I tried to picture the fearsome Kindred warrior-god raising a finger to defend a mortal, even ones as honored as my parents. The thought was so inconceivable I nearly laughed.

“How are things in Lumnos?” Leona asked. “Rumor says your King is not long for this world.”

“Oh really?” I mused, feigning ignorance. Though I’d discovered the King’s illness from Teller and Henri, I had still taken a sacred vow to keep the status of my center’s patients confidential.

“The Descended healers think we should see a change in the Crown any day now. Haven’t seen that in my lifetime.”

I didn’t respond.

“I understand the King of Fortos is preparing to send soldiers your way if things get bloody in the transition.”

I didn’t like the sound of that at all. The last thing Mortal City needed was soldiers marching into Lumnos to take control in the wake of King Ulther’s death. I wondered, with a shiver of dread, what they might do to the mortal healers who hadn’t done enough to keep him alive.

“Bloody?” I walked out from behind the shelves to find Leona scribbling an inventory of the multicolored powders that lay in precariously stacked heaps around her. “Why would it get bloody? I thought their magic picked an heir and everyone accepted it.”

“That’s how it’s supposed to go, but you know how folks can get when there’s power up for grabs.”

I snorted softly. Another thing I had no real knowledge of. I’d never had anything resembling power in my life.

“Do your realm’s Descended know who the heir will be yet?” she asked.

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