Page 14 of Heat of the Everflame

Four

Life at the rebel camp—for me, at least—meant long hours of waiting, wondering, and imagining the worst-case scenarios that my loved ones might be enduring.

Though I rarely saw the mortals emerge from the circle of trees, I knew their camp must be close. I had expected to face interrogations—some effort to wrench from me what little information I had been given. Instead, I was left alone to simmer in my gloomy thoughts.

Each day brought a delivery of a flameroot-infused meal that I ignored until sunset, then carefully disposed of under cover of darkness.

I knew from my training as a healer that I could survive for weeks without food, but the lack of access to water was a fast-growing concern. Though my Descended healing was slowing the process, my dry, cracked lips and pounding headache warned me that the consequences were setting in. I was locked in a race between my magic and my death, wondering which one would catch up to me first.

Growing up, my mother had claimed that missing even a single day’s dose of flameroot might bring my “visions” roaring back. I was learning the hard way that her warnings had beengrossly exaggerated. After several days, I was still unable to summon a single spark.

I could feelsomething, though. As dawn rose over a brisk winter morning, dragging me from sleep into a woozy fog of thirst, hunger, and exhaustion, the hollow void in my chest tingled with a whisper of energy.

I didn’t dare test it. Being chained to the lone tree in a meadow bathed in sunlight left me far too exposed, especially in my weakened state. I would have to wait until sundown, when I could more safely call on the shadows under cover of darkness.

I had nearly dozed off under the midday sun when a group of men, led by Vance, emerged from the foliage and headed my direction. Each of them carried glittering black blades and crossbows notched with black-tipped arrows that had my spine straightening.

“Up,” one of the men barked. “You’re coming with us.”

I eyed them warily. “Coming where?”

He flashed me an acidic smirk. “Don’t you want to relieve yourself in private?”

This was... unusual.

The onlyreliefthey’d been willing to give me thus far was a dirty bucket that my short chains forced me to keep only a foot or two away—a choice that I suspected was humiliating by design.

“Up,” he snapped again. He reached down and grabbed my wrist, hauling me to my feet.

I swallowed down a yelp of pain as my stiff joints screamed at the harsh movement. After days without food or water and little opportunity to stretch my muscles, it was all I could do to stay upright.

Two men went to work unlatching my shackles from the chains. The others raised their weapons, their brown eyes loaded with trepidation.

I should probably have been more scared, but lightheadedness had the world tilting and turning. My legs were one strong breeze from collapsing, and the effects of dehydration made me feel like I’d drunk a barrel of wine. I woozily giggled at how absurdlyunintimidated of me these men should really be.

From the nervy glances they threw each other and the way their hands tightened on their weapons, my laughter seemed to be having the opposite effect.

My chains unlocked and dropped to the ground. Vance leaned in with a glare. “No running from me this time. Try anything, and you’re dead.”

I didn’t give him the satisfaction of an acknowledgment—mostly because I was struggling to focus my dizzied vision on his face—and he didn’t bother waiting for it. He grabbed my shackles and began tugging me toward the forest.

I staggered behind him, nearly tripping over my soiled gown in an effort to keep up. Ten Guardians accompanied him—all of them male, several tall and laden with muscles. Each carried a godstone weapon and watched me like I was the incarnation of evil itself.

This was not the kind of group you sent for a simple escort to the latrine.

I dug my heels into the ground, trying to force Vance to a stop, but my energy was too drained. One quick yank from him sent me tumbling down to my knees.

“Get up,” he ordered.

“Where are you really taking me?” I croaked through a bone-dry throat.

He smiled. “I guess you’ll have to wait and find out.”

A chuckle rippled through the group of men, setting alarm bells ringing in my head.

I was fairly sure Cordellia didn’t want me dead—not yet, anyway. But if Vance got me alone and claimed that I’d lashedout and attacked him, that he’d had no choice but to put me down to save himself...

Deep inside my soul, the godhood stirred from its forced slumber.

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