Page 16 of Of Blooming Embers
A short stub of a man wearing dingy robes in a patchwork of blue velvet wobbled down the stairs. His pudgy cheeks puffed as he sputtered, “What were you doing in the back of my?—”
My brows shot up, and then a mask of contrition spilled over my face as I interrupted him with a mumbled apology and hurried outside after Gavrel.
Gavrel marched across a footbridge and down another alley, checking each corner before progressing. His gaze continually swept over me as if I were the twilight about to slip away into the morning sun.
Finally, as we left another backstreet, we reached the edge of the city. Relief washed over me at the sight of the lynstone bridge and marshy land whence we had arrived.
We darted toward the exit, but before we could set foot on it, ayoung man in Draumr uniform appeared from between two shops. With a yelp, I crashed into him, knocking us both onto our backsides.
The rasp of Gavrel’s sword being drawn had me scrambling away from the guard while reaching for my dagger. The Draumr slowly got to his feet, his palms held out in front of him. “Commander Larkin?” he asked, his eyes wide and curious.
Gavrel squinted at him, taking an ominous step forward, blade blinking in the sunlight.
“Wait. Wait, please,” the guard entreated as he righted his overcoat and lifted his chin. Standing, I leaned in just a fraction and rested my hand on Gavrel’s left biceps. The man continued, “It won’t be long until my companion finds us. Please, listen.”
Gavrel’s blade dropped a fraction. “Speak.”
“Your second-in-command sends a missive.” A quick breath of air filled my lungs, my eyebrows lifting. The guard looked down the alley he’d shot out of and then back at us. Gavrel lowered his weapon further, and the young man leaned in, speaking furtively. “Rhaegar sent word through ournetwork. Said that mortals were better messengers than”—he curled the first two fingers of each hand in the air near his cheeks—“blasted harbinger starlings.”
He glanced behind nervously. “He’ll find you in the Bogs post haste, but asked that you leave word with Neoma Skiya of your final destination once you arrive in Helos.”
Gavrel sheathed his sword and patted the young warrior on the shoulder before walking toward the bridge once more.
The guard nodded to me and turned to leave the way he’d arrived. “May the wings of the Raven carry you.”
“Uh, thank you,” I muttered as I moved past him, falling into step with Gavrel. “Do you think it’s a trap?”
“No, that message was surely sent by Hale. The man loathes birds.”
I chuckled, the feel of it odd in my throat. “He seems to have issues with most small, winged creatures.” Rhaegar didn’t enjoy pixies either.
His dimple flashed before he shifted his rucksack and pushed ahead.
Hastily, we moved through the marshland, mud sucking at ourboots and wispy, tan reeds stroking against our bodies. Briny wind tossed loose strands about my cheeks.
Bending, I plucked a thin, broken stalk from under my foot. I ran the grain through the pressed pads of my thumb and middle finger. “How long do you think it’ll take for Xeni to reach Letti?” I murmured.
“She’ll make haste. I’d say a few days.”
My chin dipped. “I wish I’d gotten to know her better. I’ll remedy that once we return home.”
“You’ll get the chance.” He slowed, the corners of his mouth tipping. “Xeni is a woman of few words, but she’ll do what she must in order to protect Letti.”
“I’ve no doubt.” I tossed the reed to the ground. “What are we going to do about my father?”
Gavrel’s jaw ticked. “I don’t know yet. When we find Kaden, I fear that he’ll take the decision from us regardless.”
A grimace settled over my features. He was right. Kaden would likely lose the precarious command he had over his temper.
And it bothered me that the thought didn’t pain me as much as it should. Did I care about Father? Yes, but he’d been so distant and uncaring my whole life that the weight of his demise didn’t sit heavy upon my shoulders.
With a deep exhale, my eyes roamed over the wide expanse before us. Far in the distance, the Ourea Peaks poked at the sky.
“Are those huts?” I asked, focusing on a spattering of slanted, grass-roofed structures along the horizon to our left.
“Likely abandoned long ago. Haadra used to be filled with marsh dwellers, but the Withering made it nearly impossible to survive out here. Citizens either fled to the city or starved.” His voice rumbled, ire lacing his words.
I breathed in, a sodden gloom coating me. The only sounds that accompanied us for the next several hours were those of the salted air pushing through the reeds and the squish of our boots as they trekked through endless puddles.
