Page 24 of Of Blooming Embers
“The Fates are in their cups again, I see,” Marek scoffed.
My hands clenched, fighting the urge to punch him in the teeth. “The only guidance we need is information about my brother, Kaden. Kaden Larkin. Have you had any recent visitors?”
“My dear, you can deny the truth all you want, but the reality remains: each of you is marked for … something greater. Despite your sour faces, your memoriesarean asset—a treasure we safeguard from the grasp of the Dormancy. Many of us risk evading it just to preserve them, unless we need eyes on the Elders. After all, information is a force that can shift even the currents of the Insomnis Sea.” She clicked her tongue.
My eyebrows were surely glued to my hairline, and Seryn’s mouth hung open.
The older woman chuckled. “Nevertheless, no. No, there haven’t been any run-ins with strangers as of late. There rarely is.”
I pushed my empty cup away and rested my elbows on the table. “Then why the embered illusion surrounding the city? I don’t recall that being in place when I visited a few turns ago.” My jaw tipped up, and I cupped it, resting my elbow on my crossed forearm. “Or the city having as many inhabitants, for that matter.”
“Times have changed—” she started.
“I can see that. What with youevadingthe Dormancy. That is quite the feat.”
Neoma continued, ignoring my words, “—but, also, we only showed you what we wanted you to see.” Her chin lifted higher than mine. “There have been more and more reports of creatures, not of this realm, attacking our people once the dusk sets in. Rumors of the dead scratching at the barrier.” Seryn and I glanced at each other, mirrored concern etching into our features. My thumb brushed against the stubble lining my jaw.
Neoma went on, “Not to mention, the Elders’ sycophants and Akridais are getting bolder. Less formality and questioning. More impulsive violence.” She shook her head, eyes hardening. “Why not make it as challenging as possible for hunters to find Helos, whether they be beast or mortal?” She glanced at Marek.
My mouth stiffened, and my heartbeat hammered behind my ribs. There was no way they knew what I’d done—granted, what I would no longer do—for Melina. I’d likely be dead if they did. I settled back in my seat, wishing my sword were nearby.
Marek nodded. “We’ve no use for Elder Laws here. Their only interest in our people is to seek potential Scions or raid our rations.”
Slowly, he cracked his knuckles, deep in thought, and then blinked a few times, clearing whatever ran through his mind.
“How forthright of you. And so openly exposing your gifts to us earlier, which are quite impressive, I must admit. How do you know we aren’t their sycophants?” Seryn cocked her head, fluttering her lashes mockingly at him.
I shifted my jaw to the side, trying to rid myself of the tic pulsing in it.Didn’t this bastard own any bloody tunics?
Marek chuffed humorlessly. Neoma rolled her eyes, her fingernails tapping rhythmically atop the table. “The Augur has never led us astray. Nor has Rhaegar.” She smiled brightly around my second’s name, and my forehead lifted higher.
“Hale is quite valuable to the Korax’s cause,” Marek stated, a note of respect lining his words.
“Ah, so the rebel cause is alive and well.” I’d suspected as much, especially after this conversation, but Rhaegar and I had danced around it over the turns, preferring to hold tight to plausible deniability and our friendship.
I had no desire to quell such a rebellion, but I’d spent so long cultivating my position in the Order. Playing my part to protect those I cared for and the realm in the best way I knew how.
In the shadows.
Melina’s dutifulpet.
Or so she thought. The seam of my lips curled.
Though I couldn’t always resist Melina’s cruel demands, I had appeased her vanity and downplayed the unrest boiling among Midst Fall, trusting the rebels would evolve. Each time I’d heard whispers of the Korax, the coals of hope smoldered brighter within me.
“May the wings of the raven carry you,” Seryn murmured, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her tunic.
Neoma sipped her tea, a knowing smile dancing on her lips as she swallowed. Seryn glanced from the woman to me. “The Draumr in Ceto. That’s what he said before we left.”
“And they shall carry you.” Neoma stood, scooping up our empty cups and putting them in the washbasin. “Gather your things. Marek will show you to your accommodation. You’ll have a day or so to acclimate before seeking the Augur.”
“And why would we seek her out?” Seryn asked, her tone laced with genuine curiosity.
“Because, my dear, she’s likely your only option if you want to find your friend. Off you go.” With finality, Neoma rolled up her sleeves, unveiling an intricate black raven wing tattoo that ran down the inside of her right forearm from elbow to wrist. The firelight caught on its subtle, multicolored sheen as she moved. She nodded to the door, turned, and then began washing the cups, her silver hair glittering in the firelight.
We collected our things and followed Marek down the coiling stairs. The overcast sky was even gloomier as we approached the platform below. The air had cooled, but it still clung to my skin like a damp caress.
Marek paused at the base, locking arms with a man passing by. It was unsettling to see his lips curve upward. They shared a few friendly words before the man went about his business, and we continued on our way.
