Page 68 of Spark of the Everflame

The man roared in pain and jerked away. He yanked the dagger from his leg and hurled it in my direction, but it was more anger than aim, and the knife skittered harmlessly across the ground in front of me.

I grabbed it and glared up at him. “Go now, or I’ll aim for your face next.”

His nostrils flared. I saw in the jerky movement of his eyes that he was committing my face to memory, filing me away to deal with later. He gave a final glance to the boy that nearly had me acting on my threat, then fled across the opposite end of the alley.

Murmuring and grumbles arose from the crowd.

“What’s going on?”

“Where’s the fire?”

“She fuckin’ tricked us.”

I scrambled to where the boy still lay curled into a tiny ball. “You’re safe,” I whispered, gently tugging at his arms. “He’s gone. No one’s going to hurt you now.”

His hand pulled away too easily. There was no strength in his grip, no resistance when I released his arm and watched it thump back to his side.

No.

I forced the child onto his back. His clothing was punctured in too many places to count, his entire front covered in the dark ruby stain of blood. His lips had gone blue, his eyes...

Open. Lifeless.

“No!” I screamed, reaching for his neck.

No pulse.

Think, Diem, I hissed at myself.Force air back into his lungs, pound on his chest, jerk his heart back into rhythm, pack the wound with gauze and give him meadswart to speed the clotting. But with so much blood gone...

It was too late.

Iwas too late.

I drew him into my arms and wept as anguish poured from my lips.

If I’d come by sooner. If I hadn’t hesitated to attack. If I’d remembered Brecke’s blade earlier.

I dropped my forehead to his chest, silently begging his forgiveness for my failures as my hot tears mixed with the still-warm blood pooled on his fragile body.

A hand grazed my arm. “I’m so sorry about your son,” a voice said softly.

I couldn’t stand to look away, could barely force myself to breathe in between my gasping sobs.

“He’s not mine,” I choked out. “His mother—she’s over there, by the wall.”

“Gods... may the Everflame receive them. Did you know them?”

I shook my head, unable to speak.

An older man with thinning grey hair and a curling, peppered beard crouched at my side and touched the boy’s ashen face.

“That foolish girl, getting wrapped up with one ofthem,” he said, clicking his tongue. “She should have known better than to lay with the kind of creature that would kill their own young.”

A rage born of injustice rooted inside me, as dark and deadly as the thorned vine of the Descended’s shadowy magic.

“So it was her fault?” I snapped. “Look at this boy—she protected him for years. She loved him. She was willing todieto save him.”

He gave me a sharp look. “And what kind of life was he to have, with a death sentence hanging over his head for the rest of his days? Today might have been the first time he ever left his home.”

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