Page 179 of Of Empires and Dust

Fane Mortem opened his eyes and strolled through the canvas of corpses, a frown on his face as he surveyed the yard, the High Tower still burning and smoking behind him. He stopped barely two feet in front of Garramon, shaking his head as he looked back. The emperor inhaled slowly through his nose, then sighed and turned his attention to those before him.

“We’re fighting too many wars at once, old friend,” he said to Garramon. “It’s time to burn the rats from the hole.”

Chapter 40

In the Blood

15thDay of the Blood Moon

Níthianelle – Winter, Year 3081 After Doom

The worldaround Ella drifted in clouds of white, ever-shifting. Shapes appeared before her in shades of grey: a fence, a door, a house. But every time she reached out and touched them, they dissipated as though made of smoke.

This place was not Níthianelle. It was a world of dreams, one she had visited a number of times since finding herself in the Sea of Spirits. Not every night, but some. It was different to dreaming in the waking world, a dream within a dream, both real and ethereal. And just as she had each time she had walked this place, she heard her mother’s voice calling to her.

“Ella.”Freis’s voice echoed as though she called through a long tunnel.“Could you fetch me a wooden spoon?”

The world swirled and spun, smoke twisting and filling with colour. Within seconds, Ella stood in a room composed of stoutlogs, the fireplace roaring behind her. It was her home. She knew it like she knew the lines of Rhett’s face, like she knew the amber flecks of Faenir’s eyes. This was her home as sure as the grass was green and the sky was blue.

“A wooden spoon?” The words left Ella’s mouth without her consent, her lips moving of their own volition. They were the words she’d spoken that night, some five years ago. The night her dad had come back from The Gilded Dragon with a wound in his side. It was a memory she’d long forgotten, one she’d pushed to the back of her mind, one with more questions than answers.

“To beat your father around the head with,”Freis answered. Ella could hear her mam’s voice but couldn’t see her. She was alone in the home that no longer was.

The house around her evaporated into plumes of smoke, spiralling then reforming.

“Can you tell us the story of Cassian Tal?”A young Calen ladled stew into a bowl and rushed past her. He was so innocent then, so pure. He’d needed her.

Ella’s heart stopped as the smoky figure of her dad took shape, his arm tucked tight to his side, his breaths far steadier than they should have been, as though he were trying too hard to keep them that way.

That night flooded back. Vars had said he’d slipped on the way back from The Gilded Dragon, but he’d lied. She’d always known when he’d been lying.

Once more the world shifted, smoke twisting around her as though blowing in a storm. When the smoke resettled, she was once again in her home, but not the kitchen. She stood outside her parents’ room, candlelight glowing from within, the door open just a crack.

Her mam and dad both sat on the bed, but Vars wore no shirt and a vicious gash adorned his side, blood trickling down his ribs. The wound was not anything that could have beensustained by a fall, and it had been sewn with all the skill of a five-year-old donkey. The sharp scent of Brimlock sap clung to the air. She’d smelled it the moment her dad had walked in the door and kissed her on the head, she’d just not pieced it together at first.

She watched as her mam removed the catgut and re-sewed the wound with a delicate hand, applying a thick salve. The entire time, her dad didn’t so much as flinch. He just watched Freis, his hand resting on her knee, his breathing steady. Even when the needle pierced the skin, he gave not so much as a hiss or a twitch. She had always seen her dad as a tough man, a man hardened by work in the forge, a man of iron and steel. But that night, as she watched from behind the door, as her mam sewed the wound in his side, she saw a man she barely knew. He was still her dad, still had that same caring look in his eyes, but he was also someone else entirely, someone colder. She knew there was more they weren’t telling her and her brothers. She just never knew what it was.

“Ella!” Freis’s voice thundered, shaking the air, and the world blurred and warped.

Ella’s skin goosefleshed, and she snapped her gaze to her mam. Freis no longer sat on the bed. Now she stood before Ella, her eyes pure white from edge to edge. Her body was no longer smoke. It was solid, real, but her eyes glowed with a white light.

Freis extended her hand and opened her fingers. “My girl.”

Ella reached out, her hand shaking, every hair on her body on end. Her jaw trembled, teeth chattering. And then her hand touched her mother’s, warmth spreading from fingertips to fingertips, and the air fled Ella’s lungs. “It’s… it’s you… you’re not…”

Freis leaned forwards and brushed Ella’s cheek, and Ella all but melted into her.

“I thought I’d lost you,” she said between sobs.

“My girl,” her mam said again, running her hand through Ella’s hair. “I’m so sorry.”

Ella leaned back, tears blurring her eyes. “For what?”

“For keeping everything from you.” Freis brushed the tears from Ella’s cheek. “For not telling you who you are. We were trying to protect you, to keep you from the darkness. We thought we had more time.” Her voice caught in her throat and she repeated herself, whispering and pulling Ella close. “We thought we had more time. She saved me, but?—”

A third voice erupted from all around, so loud the world shook and broke into smoke once more. “Ella!”

Ella panicked, grabbing her mam’s wrist with all her strength. “Don’t you dare leave me.”

---