Page 60 of The Spark that Ignites
Cloaked within the fog, serpents screeched at the demise of their companion and slithered alongside her, impossible to decipher how many loomed on the edge of her vision. Emmery grasped her dagger in one hand; flames contained in the other.
She needed to find Vesper and get the fuck out of here.
From the mist, a serpent advanced and she slashed its side. Rancid blood splattered her face. Emmery clasped its neck, golden flame erupting from its eyes and mouth, engulfing its body, leaving not a speck of life untouched. She tossed it aside like a piece of rubbish.
The mist thinned, revealing a path to freedom and Emmery stared longingly into the beckoning light, biting her cheek until she tasted blood. It was so close she could escape and leave Vesper to fend for himself. It would be easy. The cowardly monster inside her ran its talons down her cheek, whispering temptations in her ear and Emmery stumbled toward the light.
“Emmery!” Vesper’s panicked yell sliced through her trance. “Emmery! Where are you?”
Her head snapped towards his voice and her legs responded, running before she could convince herself not to. Feet slipping on the damp moss, her heart thundered in her ears. Her lungs burned, thoughts racing as creatures surged at her, snaking limbs stretching for her ankles, but she pushed harder.
It was Vesper’s voice that guided her through the shroud of fog.
Aera caught a serpent and snapped its necks with a jerk. The bloodthirsty fox bounded alongside, face slick with blood and a grin vicious enough to make even the gods cower.
When Vesper came into view, centered in a branch of sunlight, Emmery’s heart sank. At least two dozen serpents surrounded him, his sword clutched in hand, the other commanding three beasts with brutal slices up their bellies. He was outnumbered. His creatures flopped, thrashing their barbed tails as the other serpents hissed in unison and easily immobilizing them.
There was no way he could fight them all off. He didn’t stand a chance on his own and Emmery couldn’t get there fast enough let alone through the throng of enemies.
Vesper caught her eye and relief flooded his face.
“Watch out!” she called but it was too late.
A serpent knocked the wind from his lungs as his back struck the ground. His sword skidded from his grasp, resembling the image of the fallen soldier—his sword too just out of reach. The serpent coiled his arms and neck, Vesper’s choked curses wheezing through. And despite his valiant struggle, it held tight, snapping at his face, its mouth pried open with his hands. If not for his gloves, its teeth would’ve shredded them.
Strands of inky drool lolled onto his cheeks, and he roared, snapping the creature's jaw with a sharp crack. He tossed it aside but another advanced, not leaving a moment of reprieve.
But before the serpent could connect, the air whirled as Vesper’s aura grew, expanding, stretching its ethereal reach. Aera brushed Emmery’s leg, her flesh blazing like a vicious sunburn from the serpent’s bite.
Her world tilted, spun, and she couldn't move. What was happening? Her knees buckled and she slumped to the ground.
Vesper yelled, back arching, as a shadow crawled from inside his chest, a terrifying darkness larger than a ship, a thing of nightmares engulfing the misty meadow. The shadow creature licked its lips.
That was—that was a fuckingdragon.
The dragon’s pale eyes glowed hungrily as it whipped its thick, thorny tail, sending the serpents flying. It tittered, like a husky laugh, and reared its head, its shadowy, onyx scales shifting as it submerged the serpents in a billow of black fire.
Smoky air scorched Emmery’s lungs, thick with the stench of burnt flesh. Consciousness slipped like a thread between her fingers as her burning veins faded to an icy numbness.
Aera yipped as light eclipsed from Emmery’s darkening world.
She let the icy hand steal her, whisking her away into the void.
And then there was nothing at all.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Emmery dreamed of pain and heat, a scorching fire crawling into her chest—burning, raging, and feasting on her soul. Of gaping wounds, stumbling into her mother’s cottage, guts spilling from her belly like memories.
Her heart carved in two.
She dreamed of knives and teeth and blood. So much blood, her trembling hands forever stained, and water always running red despite how vigorously she washed them.
She dreamed of golden fire and black ice—opposite forces mingling in a mist of ash and lust. Perhaps even love. Darkness and light, one unable to breathe without the other, yet they could not simultaneously exist.
A wolf watching with orange glowing eyes.
She dreamed of her pocket watch, that strange flicker of power winking back at her with each steady tick.
