Page 41 of The Spark that Ignites
But Emmery exhaled her anger. It wasn’t worth it.
“I just—I don’t understand you, Emmery. But I’m trying.” He gave her a sheepish look with such pity saturating it, she had to look away. There was nothing she hated more than pity. “I really am sorry. I shouldn’t have read that.”
“It’s not your job to understand me.” Emmery rubbed her eyes until she saw stars. They’d known each other for what ... a few days? Where was this even coming from? Ready to be done with this conversation, she added, “I forgive you. But don’t go through my things again.”
Emmery studied her feet to find the skin newly mended. Wiggling her toes, she marvelled at the painlessness of the movement. She supposed she had Vesper to thank for that.
And his shoulder appeared to be back to full mobility. Wow, he healed fast. She’d always healed quickly but not like that. Maybe she would after she got her magic. Which would be today. It felt unendingly ...surrealand nerves wriggled in her gut.
“I already have the trial to worry about,” she stated. “I really don’t need anything else.”
He sighed like he didn’t believe it for a second. “Are we alright then?”
“Yes, yes,” she dismissed, tugging on a spare pair of stockings and her boots. “So, where are we going today? Not another forest I hope.”
Vesper thrust a cuff into her hands. “For the record, this is what I was looking for.”
The band, only two fingers thick, was wide enough to sit on her upper arm. It was a beautiful dainty thing, with ferns and wings etched into it. “What’s this?”
“Another gift.”
“You should stop spoiling me. I’m getting accustomed.” She admired the cuff and stood from her bedroll.
He laughed softly. “I like spoiling you. Tap it three times.”
With a skeptical look, she said, “If it’s a trick, Vesper, I swear—”
“Trick? Me?” A mischievous grin. “Never.”
With a tired sigh, Emmery tapped a finger to the cuff and Vesper simultaneously did the same on the band circling his bicep. The wind whipped, loosening her messy braid, as white and black specks materialized and collided, drawn by a magnetic magical force. Spectral steeds appeared, stomping and throwing their heads back in soft whinnies.
Emmery stumbled back, tripping over a rock and falling on her ass. Vesper threw his head back and howled a laugh to the sky. Her responding glare shut him up and he turned to the steed, clamping his lips shut though his eyes watered like it pained him.
Vesper quieted the stunning ivory one by holding its face and whispering something in its ear. His other hand absently stroked the onyx shadowed one’s muzzle. It regarded him with icy glowing eyes overflowing with affection. Recognition. Like they shared a long history, one that could fill copious pages of a book with countless tales of his reckless adventures.
Emmery’s experiences with horses were limited to a few rides over long stretches between the provinces. All the horses were tamed to the point only a broken look remained in their eyes. These horses didn’t give the same impression with their palpable wild energy. Even if they weren’t exactlyhorsesper se. Or alive at all? She was beginning to sense a trend with Vesper and dead things. Should she be concerned?
He led them over and wisping colour trailed their playfully flicking tails.
Emmery sheepishly got to her feet, gathering her dignity.
“This is Balthasar,” Vesper said, stroking the black horse's muzzle. The horse pushed greedily against his hand. “And this”—a gesture to the ivory horse—“is Juno.” He stroked her nose, and the steed closed her eyes, her skin rippling. “She’s yours.”
Aera clawed incessantly at Emmery’s leg until she scooped her up onto her shoulders. Emmery stared at Juno, her hands clenching and releasing. “You can’t ... give me a horse.”
“I just did. You can pet her, Emmery. She’s friendly.”
Worried it would bite her, Emmery cautiously extended her hand, half expecting it to pass through, but Juno eagerly stepped forward and met her touch with her soft muzzle. The tension fled her body, and Emmery released a long breath.
Juno’s violet eyes met hers and sparked a memory, wrestling it from deep within her. “When I was a child, I had a stuffed unicorn named Juno. It was white too,” she said, almost to herself. “I lost it a long time ago. Dropped it in the market one day, I think.”
It brought a curl to her lips followed by a pang of sadness. There were so many holes in her memories after wandering those woods for two months and yet, it was pieces of her childhood like these that she remembered—useless bits holding no consequence, unlike those months she wandered with her belly slit open, chest agape, and lifeblood spilling out. Perhaps her mind suppressed it to protect her.
Her attention snapped back to Vesper. He pet Balthasar thoughtfully, his face unreadable.
Emmery ran her thumb over the strange etchings on the cuff, tilting it in the sunlight. The foreign language sang to her. “What does it say?”
“It says:a rider is chosen,in Sellidic. At least that’s what the woman who laced the souls to the cuffs said. It’s used for enchantments. Some northerners speak it fluently but it’s morecommon for idioms. Sort of a dying language except for those with the blessing of charm.”
