Page 42 of Of Blooming Embers
The fireflies were back. Bumping into my guts and trying to light me up from the inside. I clamped my molars together, willing the creatures away.
I could barely handle the next minute. So, Gavrel would have to wait an Ancient-damned second while I pieced myself back together and worked through my yesterdays.
Breathe.
16
THE VIOLET WRAITH
SERYN
The sun dipped, its luminous hues spilling phosphorescent ink over the vista. Like dark stains, the silhouettes of sleepy doombarks crosshatched along the horizon.
A cleansing inhale swirled into my lungs, and my eyelashes fluttered against my skin. The hum of crickets, toads, and lapping water drifted over me. All day, I’d been wandering around the city, the sway of its bridges and the chatter of its citizens comforting.
Here and there, I’d let my ability peek out, and I was in awe of the vibrant display of ember sprinkled throughout the city. Living things—trees and creatures and refugees—were communing, their multicolored energies frolicking, lustrous, and smoldering. Despite the lack of resources, like everywhere else, its people were bound. They were driven by their sense of belonging and the desire to bring the oligarchy crashing to its knees.
This place was burrowing into my soul, nestling beside my devotion to Evergryn. Something here tugged at my marrow, as if my very essence knew my roots came from the mire.
With a sigh, I pushed off the rope railing and made my way back to our lodging. It’d been a couple of days since theconfrontation. Thankfully, Gavrel had given me space and hadn’t mentioned what had happened between us. The words would have to be put into the universe eventually … but not yet.
Breaking into my distraction, the planks several lengths ahead creaked and then abruptly silenced. I dragged my attention toward the sound, and the female before me hesitated, her slender fingers tucking waves the color of burnished wheat behind her ear. A flicker of violet danced over her form before sinking back within her and her long, flowy steel-colored dress. Her fingers fidgeted with the belt around her waist, jostling the slim blade hanging from it.
Caelora.
I sipped in the humid air, letting it cling to my lungs before releasing it. Shame bubbled in my stomach as she tilted her head and slowly stepped forward. I flinched at the memory of her splintering into ash in the Winnowing arena.
My curls brushed against my flushed cheeks as I squeezed my eyes tight and turned toward the swamp, gripping the rope once more. My breath caught as she neared.
“Excuse me. Seryn, is it?” She settled beside me. The scent of lilacs mixed with something warm and comforting, like freshly baked goods. My eyes flicked open, glancing at her from the side of my vision, uncertainly.
Her chin dipped as she faced me, one hand clamped around the railing, mirroring my stance. Gulping, I turned to her, eyes skimming over her pretty, oval face.
At first, I thought her eyes were a deep brown, but as she turned to look over the horizon, the lingering sunbeams illuminated the rich, dark purple of her irises, which were mottled with specks of indigo. It was like gazing at a sunken bit of amethyst beneath a shadowy wave. I’d never seen such an eye color before and wondered if it was a side effect of her blended lineage.
She pressed her mouth together, gripping the rope tighter, waiting for my response. I tugged on the hem of my tunic. “Ah, yes, sorry. Iam. And you are?” I thought it best to pretend I didn’t know her until I gathered my wits.
“I think you know who I am,” she replied, releasing the rope. “Just as I remember who you are.”
Void.
I admired her frankness, but it was disconcerting all the same. My heart rammed into the muscles and bones restraining it. My scar prickled on my nape.
She raised her left hand, giving me a pointed look and then nodding toward the unblemished space between her thumb and forefinger.
I hesitated, the line between my eyebrows deepening before I let my gift take a peek. The small rune on her pale skin glimmered into view. The dainty lines of the now-visible tattoo glinting in the shape of two interlocking decagons. My bottom lip dropped, unspoken words escaping me.
Did she win the rune promised by the Elders? What does that mean for Kaden?
She pushed her fingers into her palms, lowering her arm to her side. My heels dug into the bridge as I cleared my throat. “How?”
Mouth pursing, her cheeks hollowed as she turned sideways and leaned her elbows on the railing. “I’m not entirely sure. As you know … I wasn’t the victor.” She lifted one eyebrow at me, and I sighed, shoulders slumping. “There isn’t a turn’s supply of rations to be found. But I woke up in my pod, with this rune glowing. And I … I remembered. At least through this last Dormancy.” Her humorless laugh fell into the water.
“Damn me to the murk,” I muttered and then grimaced at my choice of words. That’sexactlywhere I had sent her after draining her.
The corners of her rosy lips dipped, the small V in the center of her top lip stretching. “You don’t have to apologize for what happened in the arena. What is done in times of necessity—times of battle—well, there’s no shame in doing what you need to.”
I exhaled slowly through my nose and rested my forearms beside hers. “Nevertheless, I am sorry for it, Caelora.”
