Page 43 of The Spark that Ignites
Of course they didn’t take silver. Cursing softly, Emmery’s fingers wrapped possessively around the chain. Her stomach clenched at the idea of parting with it. “No, thank you.”
The man countered but she hurried away and told herself she didn’t need the drink.
While she politely greeted some stand owners, Emmery mostly kept to herself, but her eyes wandered to the visible scars. She couldn’t help it. Seeing them exposed with such pride was surreal after all her time hiding.
Those with pink scars only had either acavaeor azvezda. Not a single person she spotted had both, like her and Vesper, other than those with dark scars—somewhere between black and maroon. The children all had both, their black marks stirring an uneasy feeling in Emmery’s belly. None of those with the dark scars had a vestige either, though they were all young. Disappointment twisted her gut as she searched but found no one like her.
The Fallen, proudly displaying theirzvezda, were well groomed, swathed in tailored clothes, and walked with a swagger only money and prestige could buy. Most Hollow, their shirts parted to reveal acavae, were noticeably thinner, wearing simple rags—some sitting roadside begging for slate. Whatever that was.
Studying a table of jewellery, Emmery’s attention snagged as Aera darted into the throng of people. Emmery cried out but the fox merely threw her a wink before disappearing amongst the thundering feet. Though worry gathered in her chest, Emmery exhaled it. The fox had been on her own before and clearly lived here longer than her. She could take care of herself for a few hours. But even as Emmery tried to return to her browsing, that sensation drew her eyes to the crowd like a moth to a flame. She squinted against the sharp sunlight, unable to see what clawed at her chest, unravelling her. Was it the same thing that drew Aera?
It was afeelingshe couldn’t name. Like someone was watching her.
A black shadow brushed her path and bumped her, sending Emmery stumbling back. A stunted gasp burst from her as she realized what that thing was.
It wasn’t a shadow. Shadows didn’t have fur. Was that awolf?
Emmery rubbed her eyes, but the crowd engulfed the beast, and she lost it in moments. This day was getting stranger by the second.
As she sauntered through the market, keeping an eye out for Aera, Emmery rubbed her throbbing scars again. At least once this damned trial was over, they would finally cease. Then she would only have to tame her magic. Find someone to help her. But how she would even start looking, she didn’t know.
Emmery’s head spun with all the moving parts.
A rainbow of books sprawled across a table made her pause. The woman gave her a gap-toothed smile, and with great effort, Emmery returned it. Trained to hide behind her hood, sneak around markets, and sever brief interactions, this was proving to be a painful learning curve. But here, maybe she could relax. Maybe.
Regardless, she kept her hood drawn as a last barrier against this strange new world.
Emmery studied a navy-blue novel with a splash of gold lettering.Tales of the Wildby Rhessa Morrow. She glanced up to find the woman watching her. Clearing her throat, Emmery asked, “Did you write these?”
“You bet.” The woman, blanketed in a blue-grey vestige, tossed her chestnut-brown hair over her shoulder. “What a gorgeous cloak. Stunning colour.”
Emmery’s heart squeezed and she set the book down. The compliment, so easily exchanged, startled her and she searched for reciprocation. She traced a finger down the gold etchings. “Your covers—the details are beautiful.”
“You’re too kind. I paint and bind them myself.” She offered her hand. “I’m Rhessa.”
“Emmery.” She took the woman’s hand and squeezed. Her skin was warm and soft, azvezdapeeking out from her low-cut, yellow dress. Was it too forward to ask what magic Rhessa had? For fear of overstepping, Emmery swallowed the question. Instead, she stared longingly at the novel. “I’d love to buy your book, Rhessa, but I’m afraid I don’t have any money.”
Rhessa flipped through the pages of a leather covered novel, her other hand punctuating her words. “Are you a romance lover?”
A flush crept up Emmery’s neck and she huffed a laugh. “How can you tell?”
“Instinct.” Rhessa winked. She abandoned the first book and picked up another. “I myself am weak for legends and folklore but I enjoy a good romance novel too.”
Emmery admired the shiny, red cover in Rhessa’s hand. “What sort of legends?”
“All kinds.Kennalegends are particularly interesting.” Emmery, distracted by Rhessa’s broad hand gestures brimmingwith enthusiasm, barely heard the words. She extended the book. “Here. A gift from me to you.”
Eyeing the novel like it grew fangs and bit her, Emmery shook her head. “I can’t pay you. It wouldn’t be fair.” Not to mention nothing was given without a cost, whether it was expressed or not. “I’ll come back.”
Rhessa pressed the book into Emmery’s hands. Her breath caught but Emmery didn’t pull away. “Please. I want someone to finally read my work.” A sad laugh. “I hope it brings you joy.”
Unable to hold Rhessa’s blue-eyed gaze, Emmery focussed on the book. The title read:Tethered to the Stars. On instinct, due to the gift or the woman’s wholesome smile, Emmery took the chance.
Leaning toward Rhessa, like they were sharing some dangerous secret, she asked in a hushed voice, “Do you know where I can get this transcribed?” She pulled the pocket watch from beneath her tunic and flashed the text.
Rhessa tilted her head, her brows scrunching. “Ah, Sellidic. I can’t read it but someone with the blessing of charm would be able to.”
Emmery glanced suspiciously over her shoulder. Maybe it was Vesper’s acute interest in the watch or her habit to tackle things alone, but, either way, this felt like a secret between her and her mother. “Where could I find someone like that?” she asked.
