Page 46 of Spark of the Everflame

My eyes raked across the other men. There again—on a calf, protruding from the hem of cropped breeches. Another on a chest, edging out from an unbuttoned tunic. The bicep of another, midnight ink barely visible through a white linen sleeve. One more, hidden beneath tied-up hair.

Each of the men bore the symbol on their flesh, a permanent mark of some chain that connected them.

Henri had lied to me. I’d asked him directly about the tattoo’s meaning, and he’dliedto me.

To honor the Old Gods, he’d said.

Honor the Old Gods, my ass.

I gritted my teeth and stalked out of the shadows across the tavern. Chairs screeched as I shoved them out of my path. The men startled at the sound, several tugging at their sleeves and collars to conceal the tattoos they’d so brazenly exposed moments earlier.

Henri jumped to his feet. “Diem!”

His guilty wince only stoked my irritation. Whatever he’d been doing, he obviously hadn’t wanted me to know about it.

“These are my friends.” He gestured to the table. “Everyone, this is Diem, the girl I was telling you about.”

The men offered a chorus of nods and grunts in greeting but studiously refused to meet my glare.

“I thought you were asleep,” Henri said. It sounded like a confession.

“I woke up,” I snapped. “A word, please.”

The other men glanced at each other and at Henri, the corners of their lips quivering with the effort not to laugh at the domestic doom their comrade had landed himself in. All except for Brecke, who was grinning outright.

I turned and marched back up the stairs to our room, spinning on him as the door closed behind him.

“I’m sorry,” he started, “I didn’t realize how late—”

“I don’t care that you were out late. I’m not your wife.” Henri flinched. “What does the tattoo really mean, and why do all of you have it?”

He opened his mouth and paused, hunting for an answer—and failing, judging by his silence.

“‘For the Old Gods’, was it?” My glare was scathing. “I can’t believe you liedto me.”

“It wasn’t a lie, exactly...” He scratched the back of his neck, still avoiding my eyes.

“Are you all fools?” I smacked my palm lightly against his shoulder, and he staggered several steps back, eyes wide with surprise. “Do you understand how much trouble you could get in if anyone saw that?”

“We’re careful. We don’t let anyone see them.”

“Like you didn’t letmesee them?”

He rubbed at his shoulder. “That’s different. I wasn’t trying to hide it from you. There’s no Descended anywhere near here.”

“Have you gone mad?” My voice was hoarse with the effort of not screaming at him, mindful of the thin walls and dangerous topics. “By the Flames, Henri, we’re inFortos. The army painted this whole cursed continent red the last time a group of mortals got together under that symbol.”

His expression shifted, the lines of his face hardening in a way that made him seem older and weathered. “I am well aware of that, Diem.”

“Tell me what’s going on.” I crossed my arms, one brow raised expectantly.

His voice went quiet. “Like you’ve told me what’s going on with you?”

A long silence passed between us.

My conscience scolded me that he was right. I’d been pulling away from him for weeks, and his secrets, whatever they were, surely paled in comparison to the turmoil I was so carefully concealing from him.

But there was another voice. A louder voice.

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