Page 252 of Lady for Embers

“The Fae,” Cyrus breathed in fascination, taking a step closer to the cell.

“Yes,” she said with excitement. “Taika worked with Anala and Silas, Anahita and Sefarina. They created and brought to life the Elemental Fae. But Zinta?” The Sorceress paused, looking back at Cyrus over her shoulder, that manic delight back in her eyes. “Zinta was much more creative. She worked with others to create Fae that do more than control elements. These Fae could see into people’s minds, move things with a thought. They could amplify emotions or heal with a touch.”

The Sorceress stared at Cyrus expectantly. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“What did you think of my story?”

That was it? “It was very... interesting. Thank you for sharing it with me,” he replied. Then she straightened, pulling the cork from the vial. She dipped a long ?nger inside and began to draw a Mark on the wall of her cell with his blood. “What are you doing?”

“They created more than the Fae, you know,” she said, ?nger moving rapidly now.

“I know.” Inching closer to the cell, he repeated, “What are you doing?”

“They created so many beings, but none as powerful as their own children. We can do so much with blood and the right combination of lines on a wall. Did you know we can create new Marks and spells?”

Her speech was coming faster, growing more hysterical.

“It takes years, sometimes decades, to get it right,” she continued, fury lacing her words now. “We keep them all in our spell books.”

Well fuck.

The Sorceress’s arm slowly lowered to her side, the Mark she had drawn on the wall ?aring brightly for a second before she turned to face him. “Where does she keep my spell book?”

“I do not know.”

“No!” she cried, gripping the bars once more. “Tell me, Fae of Fire. Tell me where she hides it.”

“Even if I knew, what difference would it make?” Cyrus countered. “You are stuck in there. We are both stuck in here.”

The Sorceress went eerily still. “Have you ever been stuck in a nightmare?”

“I am fairly certain I am in one right now.”

Her lips curved up. “You are amusing. I think I enjoy your company.”

“You haven’t had any in decades, so I guess it’s not much to compare to, but thank you?”

She pressed her face to the bars. “I like you,” she whispered. “But I like your demons more.”

“Wh—”

But the word never ?nished crossing his lips because he found himself staring at a young kid, no more than eighteen. He was tall and lean, not muscled like Cyrus had been. His light brown hair fell forward over his brow and hung into his green eyes. He had high cheekbones and a square jaw, and when his mouth curved in a half-smile, a dimple appeared in his right cheek.

Merrik.

Cyrus stumbled back a step, the cry of a gull causing him to look up into the sky, the bright sun making him squint. He inhaled sharply, the smell of the sea assaulting his senses.

No.

No, no, no.

“No,” he gritted out.

When he turned back to look at Merrick again, he was gone. He was staring into violet eyes behind bars.

“What the fuck was that?” he demanded.

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