Page 46 of A Spell of Bones and Madness
“My father is a vile man and my brother is spineless. Those are both things we can agree on. I helped them rescue Ander, I helped distract Kohl. For gods’ sakes, I knocked out my own brother, potentially killed him! Is that enough proof for you? I am not on their side and I never will be.”
Ember walked toward the door. She needed to be out of this traitor's sight, even if it meant leaving her own room. “It is not enough proof for me! I trusted Kohl, Katrin trusted Kohl, and look where that got us! Staying here in Nexos, of all places. I lost my home, my position, a man who was like a father to me—all because of your family!”
Farah slammed her fist into an opposing wall, stone cracking beneath. “I lost someone too! Did you ever think to ask that?” Blackness crept through Farah’s veins as she seethed across the room. Ember had never seen such a thing before. Her heart began to pound in her chest, thethump thump thumpingechoing in her ears.
“What is going on in here?” Ajax burst through the door, sweat lacing his brows, sword in hand. The commander rushed over to Farah, stroking her hair, clasping his palm over her own. “Shhh. Just breathe.”
“Of course you run to her first,” Ember spat, spinning on her heels and heading for the door, and although she said the words, she could not blame Ajax for his reaction. The way he reacted did not appear to be out of lust, but rather akin to the relationship the crew ofThe Nostosshowed each other. A familial sort of love.
Had she not provoked the princess into whatever spiral caused the blackness now beneath Farah’s skin? It wasn’t as if she ever asked Farah to explain why she turned on her family—why she became a spy for Nexos. Gods, how many times had men in Alentus questioned her resolve or her position without asking if becoming Prytan was what she really wanted, if she thought she could uphold the honor. Was what she was doing to Farah—this oversight and immediate judgement—not the same?
“Ember, stop—” Ajax’s voice hung thick in the air, but she didn’t stop. Couldn’t. She needed to get out of this castle. Needed to be alone. Needed some quiet to decide ifshewas the one who had been wrong all this time.
And most of all, she needed to hit something.
Ember had traipsed down the winding hall, still brushing dirt from her clothes. In her bout of fury and frustration, she had foundLeighton at the training gymnasium and welcomed the sparring partner. The nauarch, in between handing her her ass multiple times, had proved to be an empathic listener and a wise advisor.You can punch me, he had told her,I always find the best way to calm my—how do I put this kindly—antics is to punch something or someone. Preferably not the someone I seem to be angered about.She had laughed, momentarily easing that hot-headed rage. Going blow for blow with her, Leighton never asked why exactly she stormed into the room in a frenzy, who had made her feel this way.
He was always so level headed and that was exactly what she needed in the moment. Someone to explain that she was not crazy, but also that she should give the southern princess a bit of grace. Apparently, several times she could have outed their mission to rescue Ander and each one she instead proved her loyalty beyond a doubt. Perhaps an apology was in order—eventually.
At the end of the hall, a floor-to-ceiling painting stopped her in her tracks. There was no mistaking the lush green trees of the Nexian Wood painted on the mural before her. Its robust greenery and intricate red flowers, Ember did not recognize, their petals short and curling in at the tips. But it was not the delicate flowers that had her tracing each line on the wall. It was the humming in her ears, a melody she barely remembered, and the woman who knelt in the painting, braid cascading over her shoulder, picking the flowers from the clearing in the wood. In the corner, a wolf stalked her from behind the brush, its eyes darkened the color of tree bark around it, lip ticked up in a snarl.
Each stroke of the scene seemed familiar. A dream she’d had? A replication of a painting in Alentus? It was dizzying, scouring her mind to try to find where she knew this from. Stars beganto twinkle in her eyes, a pounding in her temple making Ember collapse to her knees.
“Please make sure to head back home before the sun begins to set,” her mother’s voice rang from the archway to the courtyard. Olive vines twirled up each side of the arch, meeting in the middle with a white flower, crimson dust, filtering out from its center.
“I won’t!” the girl yelled back, picking up her flowing blue dress and racing out through the gates toward the forest beyond, basket in hand.
It was her favorite part of the day, roaming through the darkened wood, breathing in the crisp pine air around her. Weaving in and out through the dirt trails all the way to the lake at the center of the forest. She would spend time there, picking flowers to take home to build crowns and bouquets for the servants in the castle. They deserved the same level of beauty that the royal family was gifted. It was not of their own doing that they were born into lower families than her.
Today was no different. The summer air caressed her skin as she wandered around the lake, picking each flower and inspecting it to make sure it was perfect for today’s crafts. As she approached her favorite clearing, blood-red peonies scattered about at her feet, she knelt in the midst of them, bringing one to her nose and inhaling its scent into her very lungs. The pollen from the center tickled.
The healers would be grateful when she brought back a whole basketful of the delicate flower—and she would be grateful for the herbal concoction they brewed with it. Their tea was the only thing that seemed to ease her sister’s nightmares, which had grown worse and worse over the last month. Maybe, if she collected enough, they would finally allow her sister to leave her room and come out toexplore the woods alongside her. It had been so long since she was allowed past the barred windows and doors, for fear of what she might do to herself—to those around her.
Rustling leaves in the brush had the girl scanning the perimeter. Usually she was the only one who ventured this deep into the forest. A shadowed figure lay crouched behind a wall of stones, lurking just beyond, following her every movement. The predator’s golden brown eyes glistened, even in the daytime, and its white canines flashed equally as bright as it let out a low growl.
Deep green trees scraped against the girl as she ran into the thicket. She was fast, but not fast enough that she could out run him. Her strawberry locks glistened in the sunlight, flowing backward in a loose braid. Her mother never made her tie it back like her father suggested. Yes, it would be easier to not have her hair in her face, but she loved the way it whipped around her with the flow of the breeze.
Pounding steps and snapping twigs came from behind. It would only be moments now, before he caught her. Before their game would end. She had reached the end of the woods, the lake laying in front of her. Should she wade in? Would he follow? Turning to face him, the wolf stared back at her, but this time, bow and arrow in hand, she was ready for him. She pulled the arrow back and let it fly straight at the wolf’s heart.
Ember fell backward, her hand breaking contact from the mural on the wall. The pounding in her head began to reside, her vision and breathing regulating. What kind of magic laced these halls? It had seemed so real, the visions around her, though now she could not remember exactly what they were. Standing, Ember turned back toward the hall to her room, but the only thing that remained in her head was that humming melody.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Ajax
This was all Ajax needed—a heightened sorceress and a pissed off, well, Ajax wasn’t sure what to call her. Prytan was too formal, but lover seemed strange when all they’d shared was a few longing touches and a kiss. But gods—that kiss was everything. It made his very bones feel like they might melt into a sea of nothingness, that his soul needed hers more than the stars needed the darkness of the night sky, and now she had stormed out on himonce more.
“You’re a gods-damned idiot, Jax, you know that, right?” Between labored inhales, Farah rolled her eyes so hard it made Ajax’s gut clench.
“Because I chose to help you? Look at you, Farah—you’re being reckless. You might not have the powers of a Grechi, but you can burn out just the same.” It wasn’t really a choice for him when he stormed into the room with the two women at each other’s throats. Ember was high strung and deeply set in her ways, especially when it came to the princess, but Farah was dangerous. The splintered stone falling from the wall was proof of that. If he hadn’t intervened to try to calm Farah down, who knows what would have happened.
Ajax considered the state of the princess before him. Deep ruby coated her knuckles, trickling down to her finger tips. Blue and green skin already formed along the point of impact. Snaking black veins slowly retreated back to their olive hue, and despite her sarcastic tone, tremors laced her whole body.
“I might have let my emotions get the best of me, but you don’t let yours impact you enough. Do you not see what you are doing to that girl? She already has the laws against her and you do nothing to show her she should think any differently,” Farah responded after a bout of coughs.
Ajax plopped down on the chaise in the living chambers with a huff. “I kissed her—should that not be enough to show her how I feel?”
Farah joined him on the seat, resting her unbloodied hand on his thigh. “How many women have you kissed before, Jax? How many has Ember seen you kiss? Why should that mean anything to her?”
