Page 10 of Ash and Feather

But some of the Marr still preferred the feel of actual books, and Dravyn was one of them. He’d once told me of the painstaking lengths he’d gone to in order to create this room, which was apparently a near-perfect replica of a space he’d loved in the mortal-realm palace he’d grown up in.

He didn’t usually receive visitors in this cherished place—which seemed like further evidence that Halar must have blown in like some wild, unexpected storm.

One of the shelves to my left had evidence of his wildness: several jagged marks had been burned into the wood, as though the god had flung a handful of sparks into it. The damage was fresh—I could still sense the humming current of magic underneath. There were several books on the floor, as well, and papers scattered about.

My nerves clenched tighter. I forced myself to look past the shelves, and then past Halar himself, willing my eyes not to linger on the faint threats of electricity sparking in the air around the god.

I needed to keep my fear—and my own temper and magic—in check.

Beyond Halar, Dravyn was draped in the chair closest to the fireplace, massaging his temples. The chair was large, almost comically so in the snug room, but he still spilled out of it. Even in this easy pose he radiated poise and power, the edges of him seeming to glow with more than just the fire’s light. I’d always found him imposing, but he appeared different to my ascended vision; looking at him was like opening tired eyes to the sight of a brilliant sunrise—my breath caught at the sight every time.

Halar, too, looked different. The sparking magic surrounding him was bolder. The human-like body he had shaped himself into seemed to ripple and bulge with his power, like a more terrible, more true form might burst out of his dark skin at any moment.

It had been easier to approachbothof them when I was a clueless mortal with weaker eyes, blind to their true nature…there was something to be said for blissful ignorance.

I shuffled my weight from one foot to the other and took another deep, bracing breath before stepping forward.

The God of Storms spun to face me. “Speak of the demon herself.”

“Mind your tongue if you’d like to keep it,” Dravyn warned.

Halar ignored him and smiled at me, all sharp teeth and malice. “Were your ears burning, elf? Did you rush back to hear what I’ve said about you? You needn’t have; I’m happy to repeat it for your benefit.”

I lifted my chin, refusing to cower. “By all means,” I replied, the cool smoothness of the words betraying none of the fire or fear I felt inside. “If you’ve something to say about me, I’d love to hear it.”

The slight challenge in my tone was all the provocation the ill-tempered god needed; in the span of a breath he was inches from my face, his lightning leaping the small space between us and striking a tingling path along my skin.

I held my ground even as the buzzing power rattled my teeth and made me itch all over.

“Go on, then,” I snapped.

“Answer a question for me first.” He pressed even closer.

I took a single step back, caught myself, and lifted my gaze to challenge his once more. “Ask it.”

“How does one live among the Velkyn for as long as you did without realizing the extent of their ambitions, their weapons,theirtreachery?” he asked, still smiling his sharp smile. “Did your eyes not work before coming here?”

The question stung. I’d asked myself the same thing countless times over the past weeks, trying to come to terms with all the mistakes I’d made. All the things I’d missed. I’d yet to make peace with any of it—perhaps I never would—but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

I swallowed hard. “My eyes work fine. But the mind sees what it wants to, sometimes.” Plucking courage from somewhere in the depths of my aching chest, I added, “Your eyes are much the same while looking at me, I’m afraid. They remain blind and stupid, refusing to see me for what I truly am, despite all the evidence I’ve given.”

“Evidence…” His smile twisted. His hand lifted—

Sudden movement behind him.

And thenheat.The room was engulfed in it, such an explosive rush that I nearly dropped to my knees, fighting the urge to shield my face, though it wasn’t burning my skin.

Dravyn’s fire had never burned me, even when I was fully mortal.

I couldn’t see much past the large and looming, terrible figure that was Halar, but it was clear the God of Fire had risen to his feet. The flames in the fireplace leapt higher as well, popping and crackling, casting long shadows over the room.

“This meeting is over,” came Dravyn’s voice, darker than any of those shadows. The room seemed to be growing even smaller, all of the light and oxygen pulling toward Dravyn.

When he spoke again, the single word was like a door slamming in a deathly quiet night.

“Leave.”

More heat washed through the room. I felt my own magic rising in response, saw the patterns of fiery light like visible veins in my skin, bright amongst the shadows that had settledover me. I tried not to think about how little control I’d managed over those fires thus far. Books would catch much quicker than anything in the garden had…

---