Page 163 of Heat of the Everflame

“I... I think so.”

“Can you watch the people you love die?”

My chest tightened. “I already have.”

“Can you watch themalldie?”

“Surely that won’t—”

“Can you keep going when everyone you care for is lying in a grave?” Her gaze sharpened. “Can you be the one who puts them there?”

She crooked a finger under my chin, the sharp point of her nail digging into my flesh. “How far will you go? This world of peace and unity you think you can build—how much are you willing to give to see it come to life?”

“Everything.”

The word came out instantly, drug up by some innate certainty, out of my mouth before I’d consciously thought it through.

“Are you sure?” she snapped. “Becertain, child. Everything has a price, and the more precious the item, the more devastating the cost.” Her hand gripped painfully around my jaw and jerked me forward. Her mental claws scraped against the walls of my mind, and for reasons I couldn’t explain, this time I let her stay there.

“I’ll ask you one last time,” she snarled. “How much of your soul are you willing to set ablaze?”

“All of it,” I whispered.

Silence hovered, thick and deadly.

“Good.” She let go of my chin and gave me a light pat on my cheek. She turned and walked away, and her presence slithered out of my head. “I have something to show you.”

I swayed on my feet, unable to move. Her gryvern watched me with a probing gaze.

“Come along, dear. It’s rude to dawdle.”

I followed her out of the room and down the hall, my heart still hammering in my chest.

A few moments later she stopped in front of a stained-glass door depicting what looked to be a history of Emarion. On one panel, bloody bodies were scattered over a red-drenched battlefield. On another, nine Crown-wearing figures stood on a circular black platform.

But what rendered me speechless was the panel on top. A tree, its branches engulfed in flames, a red-haired man leaning against its base.

The Everflame.

“What is this place?” I asked breathlessly.

She swung the door open, revealing an enormous room. Each side was lined with fully stocked bookshelves, while tables with soft-hued lanterns dotted the center path.

“This is my library,” she explained. “I saw in Zalaric’s memories you have an affinity for books.”

I nodded, too overcome to speak.

She gestured to one side. “The mortal section is there. Peruse it to your heart’s content. The Descended books are on the other side.” She pointed to a small alcove walled off by an iron gate. “That’s the Kindred section. It has some of the rarest books in Emarion. Only the Sophos Crown’s library could hope to compete.”

My jaw dropped further. She pulled back her shoulders, smirking with no small amount of pride.

She slipped a key out of her corset and dangled it just above my hand. “I don’t even give my Centenaries this access. But you are not a Centenary.” The key fell into my palm. “And I think you will need this in the weeks to come.”

She promptly whirled around and began walking away. “I’ll see you tonight at dinner.”

I cringed. This was a gift, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Any other day, I would have walled myself into a fort of books and refused to ever come out.

But today, Luther needed me.

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