Page 84 of What Blooms from Death

“With some help from the more sentient wraiths that I can guide with my magic.”

A chilling prospect occurred to me. “What happens when you’re gone, if you’re the last living Keeper of Erebos? What becomes of the flames—and the ones they give sentience to—if there’s no one left to tend them?”

He didn’t answer.

“Why are you keeping them to begin with?”

Again—no answer. The silence stretched into a heavy, crushing thing, settling over us and slowing our steps.

Finally, he said, “The explanation for that isn’t covered on this introductory tour, I’m afraid.”

The dismissive reply sent a rush of indignant heat through me. My magic stirred dangerously in response. I considered letting it loose, using my shadows to intimidate him into giving me anactualanswer.

But then I glanced around at all the hooded eyes watching us pass by—all the wraiths that he apparently controlled in some way.

The numbers were not in my favor.

I held my tongue.

I continued trying to sort through all the other questions in my head as we walked on, eventually coming to a center square. Here, a series of metal bowls stood like a strange art display,each one tipped at a different angle. The centermost bowl was enormous, yet the flame within it was puny in comparison.

Had fire filled the entire thing at some point?

There were seven other bowls scattered around the large one; nothing burned within them, now, but I had a feeling that hadn’t always been the case.

Curiosity getting the better of me, I ran my fingertips over the rim of the one closest to me.

As expected, my woven-diamond bracelet twitched as soon as I touched the cold metal, and a blinding vision of blue flames struck through my mind—a vision of the past, when such flames burned brightly.

Blinking, I stumbled back, bumping into Kaelen.

He hardly seemed to notice me; he was too busy staring into the largest bowl, his eyes haunted and distant as they reflected what remained of the fire.

“The people of Erebos are survivors,” he told me, his voice low, as if he didn’t want any of those people to overhear. “But the magic—the fire—that once protected them fades more and more by the day. Many other cities like ours have already fallen. And their citizens have been…erased.”

“Survivors?”

“The word is unexpected to you?”

“I expected nothing but death in this realm. I waspreparedto face death. Not…this.”

His expression was grim. “And for the most part, death is what you will find if you continue to journey outside of the safety of our fair city.”

“But that’s not what’s here.”

“Not yet.”

I hugged my arms around myself, overtaken by a sudden surge of cold. “Can the flames be rekindled?”

The silence grew heavy once more. Burdened—like the kind that came before bad news. A buzz of warning skittered through me as I recalled my conversation with Zayn from earlier.

I fixed Kaelen with a hard stare. “Why did you truly bring me into this city?”

He didn’t take his eyes off the dwindling fire as he said, “To give you a tour of it, as I told you earlier. To help you understand it.”

“Is that really all?”

“Is that not the hospitable thing to do? They do such things in the living world you call home, too, if I’m not mistaken.”

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