Page 32 of Heat of the Everflame

She brushed back the edge of her overcoat, revealing the glittering blade of a godstone dagger. A subtle threat—but, judging from her silence, not enough to change her mind about helping me.

I handed back the empty flask, then walked over to the boat and climbed inside. Next to the weapons was a pack of food and a water gourd, as well as a heavy hooded cloak.

I looked back up. “Why are you helping me, Cordellia?”

She considered me for a moment. “What you said the other day about there being good people among the Descended—it reminded me of Auralie.”

I frowned, confused. Never in my life had I heard my mother speak kindly about the Descended. All she would ever tell me is that they were dangerous, and I had to stay far away.

“She had similar ideas about trying to work with them,” she continued. “It frequently caused issues with Vance. He was always pushing for more bloodshed. She and I spoke often about the difficulties we faced leading people like him.”

My heart ached to hear her describe my mother in a way that was so foreign. She and I had always been close, spending most of every day together, either at home or the healer’s center. Though I’d known she had her secrets, I thought I knew her better than anyone, even my father—but the Auralie that Cordellia was describing might as well be a stranger.

“Beyond her desire for peace,” Cordellia went on, “your mother was strategic. If she had planned that attack on the armory, she would have done it quietly, with no bombs and little bloodshed, and she would have framed a Descended to leave them fighting each other for blame. Vance’s approach was reckless. It put a target on all the mortals, and it nearly ruined the mission on Coeurîle that we’ve been planning for years.

“Vance is a loyal Guardian, I don’t deny that, but if your mother had known she would be gone for this long, I don’t believe she would have left him in control of the Lumnos cell. He plans to return to Lumnos tomorrow, and I admit, I share your concern at what he might do. I would feel better if you were there to temper him. Perhaps you can find a way to target his hatred on the people who deserve it.”

I nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

She smiled, the first genuine one she’d ever offered me. “I suppose we’re allies now, so you might as well call me Dell.”

She beckoned to Brecke and they stepped forward to the water’s edge, shoving the boat off the sand. Brecke gave me a final salute and turned back to the forest, but Cordellia lingered.

“There’s a large camp in Montios,” she called out. “Your mother knows where it is. If you’re able to free her, get her there, and she’ll be safe. So will your brother.”

“But not me?”

She gave me a sympathetic look, but didn’t bother to deny it.

I swallowed. “Thank you, Dell. I’m truly sorry for your people that died. If I could, I would prevent even a drop of mortal blood from spilling.”

“I believe that you mean that, Diem, and I believe you have a good heart. But I fear you’ve not yet come to terms with the sacrifices this war will require before it’s over—from everyone involved.”

I had no answer to offer her, only an ominous suspicion her words might prove even truer than I could imagine.

I took the oars in my hands and began my long journey home.

“I’m trusting you,” Cordellia shouted with a quick wave. “Don’t make me regret it.”

Chapter

Eight

As the Arboros shore faded, I relished in the peacefulness of the midnight darkness. The water was a mirror beneath the watchful moon, reflecting a smattering of bright, twinkling stars.

An eerie quiet hovered in the air. I expected to hear the high-pitched orchestra of chirping insects or the caw of nocturnal seabirds, but the only break in the silence was the soft, rhythmic lapping of my oars.

I hadn’t been this alone since becoming Queen. The Crown had brought with it a torrent of vigilant guards, sycophantic Corbois courtiers, meetings with pompous House leaders, and the companionship of my new Descended friends. Even in the rare moments without company, Sorae had been a constant presence through our bond.

But here, adrift in the sea with the flameroot severing my link to the magical world, I was well and truly on my own.

Though the solitude was a welcome respite, I was also overwhelmed by a desire to behome. What happened at the coronation—and everything I’d learned since—had rattled me. I needed to wrap my brother up in my arms and finally tell him the truth about our mother, and then I needed to be wrapped upin Luther’s arms and hear his stoic assurance that no matter how bleak things seemed, we would face it, and defeat it, together.

I gazed out toward home, my chest warming as I imagined the relief those reunions would bring.

But they would not come soon. The distance to Lumnos was significant, and I could only row so fast on my own. I would need a strong wind to come along to catch my sail. Even then, I would have to risk pulling my boat to shore to rest and sleep.

That would be the most dangerous part of my trip. A visit by a Crown without invitation was a severe act of aggression. Setting even a foot onto the soil of another realm could earn my execution.

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