Page 127 of Heat of the Everflame

“In that case... I have a request. I was hoping you might be willing to tell me about yourself.”

“Don’t you already know how Luther and I are acquainted?”

“I do. I’m not asking about him—I want to know about you.Yourstory. I so rarely get to meet people like you back in Lumnos. I’d love to know what your life has been like here—if you’re comfortable sharing.”

He eyed me with a hint of skepticism, then turned me toward a staircase that led to a walkway around the perimeter of the market where the crowds were thinner.

“I was born in Lumnos,” he began, “in Mortal City, in a neighborhood called Paradise Row. You’ve probably never even heard of it.”

I bit down hard and didn’t respond.

“For seven years, I lived in hiding while my mother worked in a tavern. It wasn’t the safest place, but she did the best she could, and we were happy enough—until one day, she didn’t come home. I never discovered why.”

I squeezed his arm. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Zalaric.”

His jaw flexed. “It was long ago. I barely remember her now.”

“You were so young. What did you do?”

“At first, I was too scared to leave. I’d never left our home before that day. Eventually I got hungry and left to wander the streets and beg. It didn’t take long for someone to see my eyes and hand me off to the Royal Guard to get the very large reward for turning in half-breeds.”

I scowled. “That’s awful. Those bounties are a vicious practice.”

“Don’t tell Luther that. They were his idea.”

I couldn’t hide my shock. “They were?”

Zalaric nodded. “Once he put the bounty in place, people stopped executing the half-mortals themselves and started delivering the children to him alive to collect it. That’s how he was able to save so many.”

I stared forward as my world reoriented. I’d long despised the Crown’s system of trading rewards for information, believing it immeasurably cruel for turning neighbor against neighbor. What if it had all been Luther’s way of ensuring he could intervene for those who deserved saving?

“Oh, Luther,” I murmured, my heart skipping several beats.

“If only I’d known then that I could trust him. When they took me to him, I thought I was going to be killed, so I tried to escape. One of the guards caught me and slashed my throat.” He lowered the high neck of his robes to reveal the scar across his neck. “Luther managed to stop the bleeding enough to get me here to Umbros. To Miss Margie.”

His eyes took on a faraway look as he smiled fondly. “She was a hell of a woman. Smart and resourceful. Fiery, too. She could reduce you to ash with just a few words, but only if you deserved it. And she was loving. Generous to a fault. She helped Luther find homes for the orphans she could, and the rest, she kept herself. She treated me like a son, and I loved her like a mother.”

“She sounds like a wonderful person.”

“She was. She was beautiful, too.” He gazed out over the market, his expression hardening. “She made a good living selling her body in the skin market, but she was a mortal. Her body aged, the money dried up, and we fell into poverty.” He sighed. “She never stopped taking in the orphans. Even when she had nothing to give them, she found a way.”

Zalaric and I walked in silence for a while, his sadness palpable in the air. I slipped my hand in his. He gave me a tight smile, his throat working.

“One day Margie got sick, and she couldn’t afford a healer. I begged her to ask for money from Luther or the families she’d placed children with. She refused, of course. She didn’t want to scare them off from working with her.” His voice turned pithy. “She told me ‘Zal, money should never get in the way of doing the right thing.’”

“I get the sense you disagree,” I said gently.

“You can’t do the right thing if you’re dead.”

I couldn’t argue that.

His shoulders rolled back. “After she died, I decided I would never be poor again. I started as a pickpocket, keeping the gold and reselling whatever else I stole. Then I moved to the blood market—that’s what they call the fighting rings. I couldn’t afford to pay my tithe to the Queen, but fighters get their magic back while in the ring. It was the first time in my life I’d ever used it—that’s when I realized I was stronger than most.”

I laughed. “That’s putting it mildly. Other than Luther, no one I’ve met in Lumnos even comes close.”

“Except the Queen, of course.”

“Oh, um... right, yes. Except her, of course.”

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