Page 24 of Sons of Sorrow
As I raced forward, prepared to throw myself bodily into the stained glass, I heard Luna muttering to her sister. “Your friend is so weird.”
Pah. She had no idea.
My body collided with the Oriel of Fire. It exploded soundlessly, sending out a harmless shower of glittering fragments, every meticulously painted segment of glass separating from the frame, making way for our passage.
The membrane between the Wispwood and the oriel was as warm and cozy as ever, like sinking into a vat of soft, breathable goo. Like a mud bath, like melting through a marshmallow. My feet struck solid ground as I arrived in the Oriel of Fire.
This wasn’t warm. This wasn’t warm at all. And neither was it cozy. Even adorned with enough autumn baubles to make me look like a costume jewelry display stand, the heat still penetrated my clothing.
And what was up with all this steam? Or was it smoke? I couldn’t make out a single thing. It smelled like burning wood, and faintly of smoldering incense. Yet it didn’t strike me as toxic or choking at all. In fact, the odor was fragrant — almost pleasant.
“Oh, gods,” I said, fanning myself with my hand. “Is anyone sweating already?”
Sylvain’s voice spoke from somewhere to my left. “Now you understand why I go naked every opportunity I can, little human.” Funny, considering how he was completely smothered in layers of leaves, anyway.
The weight on my shoulder disappeared as Satchel flew up, the buzz of his wings close to my ear. “Locke, clear out some of this air, would you? Use the medallion. If we’re going to get eaten by a dragon, I’d like to see what it looks like, first.”
Right, my medallion. I touched a finger to one of the gemstones, the Breath of the Wind, infusing it with enough of my essence to conjure a modest gust. Air rushed from behind us, blowing away the persistent cloud of smoke.
It was a wonder we could breathe at all, this odd, sweetly scented smoke. As hostile as the Oriel of Fire could be, perhaps its magics still made allowances for its residents that needed to breathe to stay alive. I pushed a final measure of essence into the gemstone, casting away the last of the smoke. I gasped.
Based on everything Dr. Euclidea Fang had warned me about, I’d completely expected the Oriel of Fire to be an infernal, ever-burning wasteland that would rival the horrors of the prime hells. Yes, most everything was on fire, and there certainly were rivers of flame and flowing lava.
What I hadn’t expected was the great brass city sprawled out before us, its towers and minarets reaching for the darkened sky, issuing curling wisps of smoke. Instead of leaves, the forests surrounding the strange city were covered in eldritch fire, the trees never truly burning, the heat releasing that same aroma of woodsmoke that had welcomed us.
By all accounts, this oriel was the only one of the four that had demonstrated any semblance of civilization. Sure, some of the others had been home to creatures with their own social structures. The Oriel of Air’s nomadic pixies, for example, or the Oriel of Water’s mermaids.
Even those asshole bush babies from the Oriel of Earth had a loose sense of community, at least in how they were united for purposes of ransacking and murder. But an actual city?
Of course, we hadn’t met any of the brass city’s denizens for ourselves yet. They could still turn out to be hostile.
And speaking of hostile, a familiar set of footsteps sounded from behind us, another new arrival from the Wispwood. The expensive soles hitting the ground with every measured step, the soft, musical tittering? I knew these noises because they’d sent my hackles rising many a time over my years in the academy.
There was no mistake. I didn’t need eyes on the back of my head to understand that we’d been joined by a demonic presence. I clenched my fists, my fingernails digging into my skin.
“Evander Skink,” I said through gritted teeth.
I turned on my heel to stare into the face of evil. Evil stared back, smirking, waggling his fingers at me — and then at Luna Hernandez.
“Oh, him?” Luna winked at me, then flicked a lock of hair away from her face. “I invited him along. We met over lunch the other day, and we just hit it off like we were always meant to be the best of friends. Honestly, Evander would fit right in at the Iron College.”
I imagined the pair of them forming the core of a preppy mean-girl death squad, terrorizing the halls of the Iron College, criticizing what everyone else was wearing, bullying everything with a pulse. Queen and King Bee firing stinging remarks in every direction, coating their barbs with venom and honey.
“And I knew you wouldn’t mind,” Luna continued, her lips twisted into a taunting sneer. “Seeing as you and Evander are such good friends and all. Isn’t that right, Locke? Evander told me so.”
My face answered for me. Evander and Luna shot each other conspiratorial glances, giggling and tittering. Spending time with Evander in the Oriel of Water had almost softened me on him. And then he showed his true colors, mocking the fourth unicorn who turned out to be a magical narwhal, making a fuss when he didn’t get what he wanted.
Bruna gave me a helpless shrug, which I returned with a halfhearted smile. It wasn’t her fault. She wasn’t in charge of her sister’s whims. Satchel flitted close to my ear and whispered, sensing my annoyance.
“Listen. I think Evander’s a prick, too, and this Luna chick isn’t any better. But more mages can’t be a bad thing for an excursion as dangerous as this one.”
I nodded and whispered back. “Right. You’re absolutely right.”
Satchel’s words were an echo of my thoughts. It was really cool knowing that we were on the same page, moving in sync, the bond between mage and familiar growing stronger by the day. That made me feel better, at least.
“Ah, but look,” Sylvain said, thrusting his finger at the smoky sky. “What a beauteous sight.”
From somewhere deep within the brass city, motes of fire had begun whistling into the sky, exploding and crackling among the clouds into glorious shapes. Flaming flowers, starbursts, and pinwheels.
