Page 31 of Of Blooming Embers
We sidled next to it, and Rhaegar stepped inside while nodding at Breena, who was pouting. “Just when things were getting fun.”
“Come on, you.” Rhaegar chuckled as she joined him.
Seryn’s eyes were wide, her hand still tight around the hilt of her dagger. “Bog bodies?!” she repeated, her voice rising at the end.
Breena shrugged. “Well, they normally don’t move. Being dead and all.”
“They bury their dead in the Bogs. It’s a sacred space. But alas, that fog.” He frowned, forehead scrunching. “That fog wasn’t normal. Likely another Void creature.” Rhaegar tapped his pointer finger on his chest with each word.
My brows fell. “No doubt. Neoma mentioned the dead scratching at their wards, but usually at dusk. Just what we need. More damned Void beasts stealing into the realm.” My blood boiled against my pulse points. “There was a sea monster in Lotus Loch as well.”
Rhaegar’s head dropped. “Shite. We need to meet with Yaya. Tell her what happened.”
Suddenly, Seryn shot up and flung her hand out. Her dark blade whizzed past the side of my neck, barely nicking my flesh. I winced, turning just in time to see the point of the wavy obsidian sink into a bog body’s eye socket with a squish. Its jaw went slack as it fell backward into the water.
The molten, rainbow-like mist in the pommel stilled, and I jerked to the side just as the weapon snapped past me and back toward Seryn’s glowing hand.
Her chest pressed against her tunic with every ragged breath, curling tendrils whipping against her rosy cheeks. As she gripped her dagger, warmth spread to my tailbone, my bottom lip dropping. I gulped, air sticking in my throat.
Ancients.
I wanted her hand wrapped around me.
She sheathed her blade, set her full mouth into a grim line, and dipped her chin as she claimed her seat. “Let’s go find Yaya.”
12
THE WINGS OF THE RAVENS
GAVREL
“Iwon’t deny your logic is sound,” Neoma admitted, one hand cupping her chin. “Void vermin are slipping in, and the full moon is when embers are most potent.”
We huddled around one of the many rickety tables strewn about the rowdy pub dubbedThe Boggy Grog. It wasn’t more than a large box with a bar along the back, and crisscrossing wooden poles nailed to the ceiling and walls.
With fingers flying over fiddle strings, a lively trio of musicians sang, their jaunty music bouncing off the walls. Throughout the space, candles flickered and shadows danced over the secrets and laughter being shared.
I leaned back in my chair, pushing my tongue against the back of one incisor. “We need to figure out what is weakening the veils between the realms.” I looked around the table. “I have my suspicions.”
“Go on then. We’re not getting any younger. Or sober-er.” Breena snorted, taking a long swallow of her brew.
Rhaegar covered his mouth with the lip of his pint glass, shoulders shaking. At least someone found her funny. I blinked slowly at her, and the damned woman smirked, tapping on the tabletop.
Beside me, Seryn’s eyebrows lifted, and she angled closer to me. “The dungeon?”
My fingers twitched, itching to pull her to my lap. Instead, I nodded, thinking of the mass of amber hidden within the obsidian cliff.
“Care to elaborate?” Marek scoffed as he approached, setting another round of drinks on the table.
Breena cocked her head. “The fecking dungeon,” she shot back at him, rolling her eyes as if he were an imbecile.
He scowled, jaw ticking while he took his seat.
For a moment, my lips pinched. I was certain she didn’t know about the underground chambers. She wouldn’t have remembered them, regardless.
“The cells beneath Morpheus’ palace,” Seryn explained with a bemused smile.
Breena’s eyebrows shot up, mouth forming an O. She smacked Seryn lightly on the arm. “Was I invited to traipse around the wee dun—?” She paused, collecting herself as Marek glared at her. “I mean, of course, the fecking dungeon.” And then the blasted woman winked at him. Marek’s eyes narrowed to slits.
