Page 112 of The Spark that Ignites
A sob rose in her throat she had no capacity to deal with. Surrounded by fiery debris, sweat stung her eyes and smoke strangled her lungs. She doubled over.
Oh gods, she couldn’t breathe.
Her world swayed and she stumbled into the street, seeking clean air.
That’s when she heard it.
Distant and obscured in the thick smog, someone called her name, and it floated to her as if it could follow no other path. She strained her ears, her name following a second time in the same deep timbre.
And she knew that voice from somewhere. It tugged at a memory deep within her.
Emmery searched for the voice, and lost her breath, ice flooding her veins.
Black as a starless sky, Hollow hounds—all spindly limbs, patchy flesh, and sinewy bones—prowled through the village. They emitted the same rumbling growl and chill from theWaking Wood. Those things had shredded Callias. And now they would do the same to her. A dozen of them drooled blood from their lipless mouths and exposed teeth.
Trailing them, two terrifying women stalked through the flames. One, taller than Vesper, her eyes wholly black to match her lips, smiled but it was hardly friendly. Her hair in contrast mirrored the snow. A hound nuzzled her blackened fingertips and Emmery blanched as the woman licked the blood from her fingers like a rare delicacy.
She was undoubtedly the sixth sister from the stained glass.
Serafelle.
The other woman was a head shorter, her stick straight brown hair floating on a breeze, and skin a deep, luscious tan. Beautiful and deadly. Darkness cloaked her in its embrace, her shadowy wings wisping as she strolled through the fiery night.
Emmery knew her but not like this. Not as thisthing.
This was Melantha—the once human queen.
But like Emmery, she hadn’t aged a day.
And now, she was a monster.
Her sapphire eyes met Emmery’s, and the world slowed. Stopped. Careened off course.
Emmery’s heart leapt into her throat at the malicious intent in the woman’s eyes. She turned and fled, not caring where as long as it was far away.
Her gut clenched as her hands caught her fall and thrusted her back to her feet. Her frantic breath clouded her face, her lungs threatening to collapse. A vast expanse of snow and flat land replaced the sheltering trees. Exposed her.
There was nowhere to hide.
Footsteps chased her but she didn’t dare turn around.
So, she ran.
Until her lungs burned.
Until her legs numbed.
Until the ground cracked.
Until it collapsed.
Emmery crashed through the ice. Her chest spasmed, bubbles cascading from her mouth as the frigid water punched the air from her chest. She stretched for the surface, kicking and flailing, but there was only solid ice. She pounded on it, scraping her fingers until they bled.
A silent scream clawed from her throat as she searched the dark for any cracks or openings—for a way out. Shock locked her limbs, and her eyes burned. She was blind, lost in the blackness. And suddenly impossibly tired.
This wasn’t like drowning in that river. This was colder. Darker.
And Fionn wasn’t here to save her.
