Page 37 of The Spark that Ignites
Emmery stared up at the star filled sky. Did it look the same beyond the gate? The air seemed different here. Easier. Each breath invigorated her body rather than merely satiated and with each inhale she consumed the magic. Her entire being craved it.
Curled up in her lap fast asleep, the fox snored softly. Earlier, it tried to spread its wings and retracted the injured one with a whine. It hurt Emmery’s heart. She’d have to figure out how to mend it, maybe pick up some supplies if there was a town nearby.
“I’m going to name her Aera.” Emmery stroked a gentle finger down her dainty nose and wounded wing, receiving a satisfied sigh in response.
Vesper smiled, a twinkle in his pale eyes. “That’s pretty. Far too pretty for the little demon, if you ask me.” He shot the fox a look and she cracked an eyelid, replying with a quick flash of her fangs. “Why Aera?”
“Because,” Emmery drew out, “she has the strength and bravery of a lion and a heart of gold.”
Vesper gave a little snort. “If you say so. I distinctly rememberyousavingher, not the other way around. Not exactly brave.”
Stroking Aera’s pillowy fur, Emmery ignored him. From the tug in her chest, the connection deep in her core, it was as if they already knew one another. She would die for her a million times over. It was the first time she’d allowed herself to feel anything in so long and fear crept up her spine now that she had something to lose. Maybe the foxwastruly saving her.
Emmery chewed her lip as images of those creatures flashed through her mind and the magic Vesper wielded to fend them off. She searched for the right question.
“You look like you want to ask me something.” Vesper’s arm wrapped around the leg pulled to his chest, the other cradled in the sling. His chin rested on his propped knee as he blinked slowly.
“Why would you say that?”
“You’re getting that little crease again.” He ran a finger between his brows. “Right there.”
She frowned. Good to know she had a tell. “Your magic...” Emmery fumbled for the words. “You can raise the dead?”
Vesper ran a gloved hand through his hair, leaving it dishevelled. “Not quite. I can’t breathe life into them, but I can reanimate bodies. It’s like puppeteering. I can hold them up withmy strings. Command them. But if I let go, they fall back down.” Releasing a heavy breath, his expression strained like he was anticipating a poor reaction. “Did it scare you?”
Emmery shook her head. “I want you to teach me.”
He grinned, a wistful relief in it. “Unfortunately, magic can’t be taught. Only the gods decide what’s given.” The joy slid from his face. “I don’t know anyone with magic like mine. I heard rumours of the burden of mimicry in the north, but who knows if they’re even alive anymore. So much of our magic has gone extinct and died along with our people.” He shifted his weight, his face scrunching. “Like your sparks, wisps of our power manifest before we’re beckoned to our trial. Usually as children. It gives us an inkling of what our magic will be. Mine started with my father finding me having conversations with empty air.” Vesper gave a humourless laugh. “He thought I was disturbed, but I was just talking to spirits. When he found out, he didn’t exactly take it well. Didn’t know what to do with me.”
The rawness of his story took her aback. Emmery’s heart twisted, imagining Vesper as a boy, alone, confiding in spirits, misunderstood, and confused. She too had been left to deal with her powers on her own. They shared that but she couldn’t dwell on it. “So, you can hear spirits, animate corpses, and manipulate air?”
“In short, yes.” He palmed hiscavae, almost absentmindedly. “The mimicry is my Hollow magic. The air manipulation is Fallen.”
It dawned on her. Thekhaosflame was only one power.
Two scars.
Two magics.
She would havetwoonce she passed her trial. Two unruly burdens. Emmery chewed her lip. “How will I know what my second is?”
“It’ll come naturally. Everyone has different threads from their magical line. Some more, some less. I didn’t know what to expect. Speaking to the dead was one thing, but reanimating bodies—” Vesper fidgeted with the clasp of his gloves. “The first time was a bit of a shock.”
Emmery raised a brow. “Oh?”
“It was a few days after my sister, and I passed our trial. I think we were around fifteen. We were out for a walk and found a deer. Its guts were sprayed across the ground from an animal attack, but it was still breathing and, of course, Izora begged me to help. I was inspecting its wounds when its heart gave out and—” Lines creased his forehead. “Well, I felt it die.”
The blood drained from her cheeks. He’d only been aboy. No child should have to deal with that. Emmery whispered, “What did it feel like?”
He was quiet for a tense moment. “Cold and ... numb,” Vesper murmured. “Like leaving the embrace of sunlight for a snowy mist. It’s the same every time.”
Emmery’s breath snagged. Those months after wandering the woods, when she feared her injuries may take her, she faced the same cold brush of Death. But Death had come to collect her, where with Vesper, it merely recognized him as an equal—someone to hold it without fear.
Vesper flexed his fingers. “Izzy was crying, and I wanted to comfort her. To fix it somehow. I didn’t mean to do it. I just reached and it was like stretching for a force out of my grasp. Fumbling in empty air. Until it just ... connected. Those tendrils flew out of my hands and into the deer. And it stood.” He returned his gaze to Emmery. “I’m not sure if Iz was more scared, or me.”
Emmery offered a sympathetic smile. “It must have been tough to deal with that alone.”
“I never did. I always had Izzy,” he said, his voice low, pain laced in the words.
