Page 38 of The Spark that Ignites
Emmery could practicallyfeelin her own chest how much he missed his sister. How much he cared for her. And she didn’t like what it was doing to her. How it was warping her view of him so easily.
After a silence bloated with emotion, he added, “She was lucky. Her and my father shared the burden of mind. Their magic could control people, make them see things. Plant ideas in their heads. As you can imagine, she always got whatever she wanted with persuasion at her fingertips. When it manifested, my father couldn’t have been prouder.” A slight bitterness lingered in the admission, though he gazed ahead, his eyes full of memories.
After shaking his head like he could free those thoughts, Vesper said, “She showed early signs for her blessing of water.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he hid a smile underneath. “She used to waterboard me when I was being, her words exactly, a ‘loud-mouthed, dung-brained, colossal prick’.”
Emmery laughed, biting her lip as she untangled a stubborn knot in Aera’s fur. “And I suppose you did nothing to earn that name?”
“I didn’t say she was wrong.”
They shared a vulnerable look, and Emmery was the first to pull away. She cleared her throat, eager to steer the conversation from the battling emotions in her chest. “We didn’t discuss the trial much. What do I have to do? You said it's dangerous and some people—” She swallowed against her dry throat, nerves swarming her stomach like bees. “Die.”
“You’ll be fine.” Vesper waved her worry away. “Tomorrow we’ll go to the Whispering Spring. It's a simple ceremony. You drink out of a chalice, perform the trial in your mind, and the gods test you. If you pass, they give you your power. If youfail, you never wake up or they allow you to live without magic. For some, that’s worse than death. It’s unknown if it’s a moral decision or a test of strength. Only the gods know.”
An acidic taste flooded her mouth.
He continued, “I can’t tell you exactly what the trial will be. It’s different for everyone. The gods pit your weaknesses against you. We can discuss them, but I have a feeling you won’t. Am I right?”
Emmery gave a brisk nod, staring at her bandaged toes. It would involve water, no doubt about that. And gods knew what else. She was weak in so many ways. Her stomach knotted as she wrestled with that fear.
“Right now, your magic is only a kernel. After you pass, your power will amaze you.”
Ifshe passed. Why was he so sure she would? Emmery wrapped her arms around herself. “I’m not sure I can handle more power.”
“You can.” Vesper reached for her like he wanted to show her but dropped his hand. “Your magic was overwhelming because you never understood it. You couldn’t safely release it and were made to fear it. Not exactly a recipe for success.”
A cold breeze swept in, dimming the fire. Emmery snapped her fingers, sending sparks onto the simmering logs. The wood hissed happily.
“See? You’re already doing it. Magic is tied to our emotions as much as it is our blood. Our adrenaline. It’s a natural instinct and evolutionary trait for our protection so we can summon it when we’re in danger. If you were scared or angry, it would flare your magic, making it difficult to control. Impossible to suppress. Yetyoudid it.”
“So, my state of being for the last hundred years,” she muttered, a sad smile pulling at her mouth. “It’s pathetic, really.”
“It’s not.” Vesper’s stare softened. “It takes admirable strength to endure what you did.”
Emmery flushed at the compliment, examining the forest floor. No one had ever said she was strong aside from Maela, but she was only a child. To children, all adults were spectacularly veiled by an illusion of bravery up until they were grown.
The glowing fire scattered shadows down Vesper’s face. His lips parted, as if he wanted to say more, but couldn’t.
Emmery bit into her cheek, eager to change the subject. “Why did you never go to the north? To look for people with magic like yours?”
“It was too dangerous.” He shrugged. “Also, the same reason you never crossed the gate. The north passage is sealed and there’s no other way. The waters are too treacherous to travel though we’ve tried. So, the north remains out of reach.”
Emmery offered him a wisp of a smile. “Maybe one day you can.”
“Maybe.” He closed his eyes, his dark lashes brushing his cheeks. With a sigh, he lay back against his bedroll. “We should sleep.”
Emmery lay awake long after Vesper drifted off, listening to his long, even breaths and Aera’s soft snores in her ear. After whispering her nightly prayers to Deimos and Kahlia, hoping these new gods might take pity on her, she downed the rest of her canteen.
The day’s weight and looming trial bore down on her but, more so, their conversation. She couldn’t ignore that this was the first time Vesper had opened up and shared a scrap of himself that wasn’t a fiendish grin or smart remark. Why did he do that? It stirred complicated feelings inside her she didn’t know how to process.
She dragged her hand down her face with a groan. Perhaps her plan to keep her distance would prove more difficult than she thought.
Chapter Thirteen
Shade lay stretched out beside Emmery, his ankles crossed, fingers drumming his chest to a tune only he could hear. “I don’t remember what it’s like to dream,” he mused.
Emmery studied his strong, nimble fingers. At least from what she could see through the damn distorting mist. Gods, he seemed familiar, but she remembered nothing about his dark, phantom-like appearance. Was this truly not the first time they had met? Deep down, somehow, she believed it to be true. Either way, laying here with him certainly beat drowning in that river.
Tonight, too exhausted to imagine anything, Emmery opted for the nothingness of the Divide. The silent darkness was like a mirror of death—the peace of absence.
