Page 42 of Spark of the Everflame

“I must be mistaken,” I blurted. “It must be something else. I was just... confused.”

Her eyes shrunk to suspicious slits.

“What I need—it’s not that red.” I grappled for a plausible excuse, my brain still reeling from what Leona had just revealed. “Beetbark,” I finally eked out. “I’m looking for beetbark.”

The old woman darted off, disappearing behind a rack before emerging with a handful of jars of a deep magenta mixture dotted with clumps of chalky white stone. “Is this what you had in your stores?”

I nodded vehemently.

She shoved it close to my face, eyebrows a mile skyward. “Are you sure? You’re sure it was this?”

“Yes—yes, it was this. Pink, not red. I was confused.” I grabbed one of the jars and shoved it into my pack, offering a tense smile. “That’s the one.”

A heavy exhale escaped Leona’s mouth. She slid into a nearby chair, rubbing at the deep grooves that cut across her forehead.

I must have had a death wish at the words that came out of my mouth next, but I had to know.

“The red powder—why is it so regulated?”

Leona’s weary eyes turned up to me. Her lips pressed into a razor thin line. “It’s time for you to leave.” Her meaning was clear: the conversation was over. Not just for today—forever.

I offered a strained thank you and all but sprinted to the exit. I had almost crossed the threshold when I heard Leona call my name. When I turned back, her gaze had hardened, her features pulled taut.

“Merely knowing that powder exists is enough for the Crown to order your execution, girl. I don’t know what that mother of yours was up to down in Lumnos, but you need to stay far away from it.”

I walked away from the building as fast as my feet could carry me.

ChapterTen

That night, Henri secured a room at an inn above a local tavern to spare us the misery of camping on Fortos’s hard, rocky soil.

The tavern was warm and raucous, alive with boisterous voices that rang out with laughter, debate, and the occasional drinking song. In the middle of the room was a roaring fireplace that filled the air with the scent of smoke and pine.

I scanned the room, quietly grateful there wasn’t a Descended in sight. Though the villages of Fortos were not nearly as segregated as Lumnos, it seemed the mortals and the Descended wisely kept to their own where drinking was involved.

After ordering a hot dinner and pints of ale, Henri and I curled up at a small table near the fire. I did my best to smile and nod as he recounted the news he’d heard from around the realms, but my mind was on the other side of town, locked in a cage behind a warded padlock that apparently only the King of Fortos himself could unlatch.

The powder I’d seen in that cage was flameroot powder—mypowder. That much, I was certain of. That bottle, that consistency, that color—it was too distinct to be a coincidence.

But why would a medicine be so strictly controlled by the Crowns of Emarion? What could it do that the Descended were so afraid of? And how had my mother gotten her hands on bottle after bottle of it?

“And that’s how I decided to go to Faunos and ask them to turn me into a half-peacock, half-leopard. I really think it will spice up our sex life, you know?”

I blinked at Henri a few times. “Wait—what?”

He smirked. “Ah, youarelistening.”

My cheeks flushed, lashes lowering. “I’m sorry. Long day.”

“Anything you want to talk about?” He nudged my untouched plate and still-full pint in silent encouragement. “You’ve looked like a ghost all afternoon.”

I took a long swig of my drink. Stalling.

“Just a lot of memories of my mother, that’s all.”

He reached across the table, his fingers brushing against my own. “Did anything happen?”

The truth clung to my lips, nearly spilling off my tongue. Instead, I shook my head and pushed my fork around my plate.

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