Page 73 of The Spark that Ignites
“Pretty well. She’s like a wolf pup on bone ash.”
Emmery blinked at him, her brows pinching. “I don’t know what that is, but I’ll take your word for it.”
“They’ll grow on you.” Vesper bumped her shoulder and strolled after them, leaving her standing alone in the foyer, her heart a tangle of knots.
She wondered what it would be like to have friends like that. After eighty years, it was like a beat hadn’t passed. But she would never be lucky enough to find out. Not with her plans. The sinking feeling in her stomach grew as she searched for Aera and retreated to her room.
“I DON’T LIKE IT,” BRIARhissed. “It’s ...wrong, Ves.”
Emmery squeezed her eyes shut. She knew she shouldn’t eavesdrop but the heated conversation on the other side of Vesper's door had frozen her legs.
Were they talking about bringing Izora back? Emmery had the same reservations and, frankly, she still wasn’t sure it was morally right. And she did realize that it made her a hypocrite with her own plans.
Vesper’s voice was vehement, yet unnervingly calm. “Bri, I’m sorry to put you in this situation, I really am, but I have to. Please, please,pleasedo this for me.”
They were both quiet for a long moment and Emmery stood there, fidgeting in the hallway, her back pressed to the wall as if she could sink into it.
“Fine. But you owe me. And not like ‘buy me jewellery’ owe me. More like ‘do my laundry for a century and be my footstool’ owe me.”
“Footstool? Really, Bri? That’s a bit extreme.”
“Those are my terms. Take it or leave it.” From Vesper’s long exhale, Emmery assumed it was accompanied by a nod. Briar’s voice softened as she asked, “How are you, Ves? How are you dealing with ... all this?”
Another impossibly drawn-out sigh. “Honestly?”
“Yes. Lay it on me.”
“I—” A groan. “Fuck ... I miss her, Bri. So much it ... hurts to breathe sometimes. It’s hard to pretend. I’m trying to keep it together but—” His voice cracked, words severed. “It’s like she’s still there. I see her. Glimmers of her sometimes. Like she never left—” He let the sentence fall.
Emmery’s heart ached for Vesper as images of her childhood cottage invaded her mind. Being home must be a unique kind of torment. Seeing his sister everywhere and the memories the castle walls must hold.
“I know how much you love her.” Fabric rustled from their embrace and Briar’s voice muffled. “It’ll be alright. We’ll fix this.”
Emmery scurried to her room, her stomach twisting from the private conversation she had intruded upon. Vesper was always so ... composed, sloughing off everything with nonchalance, but deep down he was really hurting. Maybe as much as she was with Maela.
When she found him later that day, after taking a long walk to clear her head, he stood lakeside skipping rocks off the water.Plink,plink,plink, they skidded off the glossy surface, his face withdrawn as he watched them like he wished he too could escape and sink into the water, never to emerge again. Emmery leaned against a nearby tree as Vesper sent another flying with the flick of his wrist and didn’t acknowledge her presence.
“Maela and I used to skip rocks together,” she said softly.
The lake shimmered with each ripple as Vesper continued, only turning to look at her when she stood at his side.
He placed a smooth and flat stone into her palm, a generous offer for a long cast. “Izzy and I did too. I used to let her win every time.”
“Are you sure youlether win, Ves?” Emmery skipped the rock with ease, crouching to retrieve more. “Sounds like an excuse.”
“My pride is already fatally bruised, can you at least let me have this?” Vesper gave her a small smile, but his eyes were sad.
She looked up to find him studying her. “Can I ask you another question?” Partly out of curiosity and because it seemed like something a friend would do.
“As long as you’ll answer one for me.”
Emmery sighed. “I’m not ready to talk about—”
“Your sister, I know. It’s not about what happened to her. I just want one question. The rest are all yours. Ask away.”
With a roll of her neck, she threw a rock with unnecessary force and the water scattering angrily. “Fine, yes,” she muttered and selected another from the ground, wishing her soul’s edges weren’t jagged and torn but smooth as this stone. She cleared her throat and asked, “What happened to your parents? You said your father died, but ... you didn’t mention your mother. And she wasn’t in that portrait.”
Hesitance bracketed his shoulders, a tremble to his voice as he replied, “My father’s death was sudden. One night his heart stopped, and he never woke up. We had his body examined and they found no trauma or poison but—I think it was planned.” A heavy breath inflated his chest. “My mother died in childbirth. Izzy came first and when I followed ... They couldn’t stop the bleeding.” He exhaled, long and slow, his eyes falling shut. “I tell myself it’s easier because I never knew her but sometimes, I’m not sure.” He lobbed a rock into the water with no intention of skipping, maybe relieving some weight off his shoulders. “I was stillborn. It was like I was never meant to live. But I took my first breath when she took her last. I swear she gave her life for me, and I never got to thank her.” He huffed a sad laugh. “It sounds ridiculous.”
