Page 24 of War Of Fire and Fortune
Suddenly, my body jerked, and I gasped in a long breath as I sat up. I was looking through my eyes but had no control over my actions. I tried to scream again, but the darkness in my head only drank my terror, savoring every drop.
And in that endless void, with nothing left to lose and no hope of anyone rescuing the cruel daughter of Valos, I realized my father had lied. I would never be free.
I belonged to him. Forever.
Chapter Twelve
Kade
The book slammed shut, dust billowing from its yellowed pages as I rubbed my bleary eyes. Weeks of research and still no solid answers on how to break whatever hold or enchantment someone might have used on Emelyn's mind. I had shuffled through every book in here and had come up empty-handed. And if it was that woman in the throne room that day, my shadows had searched high and low for her and hadn’t been able to find her. I needed to dig deeper. My father had a war meeting that afternoon, so I decided to take the opportunity to sneak into his office and check for anything in there. I doubted I’d find anything, but it was worth a shot. He had that room enchanted so no one could wield in there, but I was sure I could get in without being noticed. I’d spent my whole life sneaking throughthis palace. My chair scraped against the floor as I got to my feet to head that direction.
Slipping through the corridors, I let the darkness embrace me. Guards stood vigilant by my father's door. A slight nudge against a candelabra down the hall sent it toppling, the clatter diverting their attention long enough for me to glide past, unseen. Once I was inside, I gently closed the door with the softest click.
My gaze swept across the room, over every meticulously placed object. I rifled through the drawers, finding nothing but mundane records and trinkets. Cursing under my breath, I sat in his chair, rubbing my palms over my eyes. I was so fucking tired of dead ends. I grabbed his desk to get to my feet when I felt something. A false bottom against my fingers, revealing a slender drawer nested beneath the top of his desk.
My heart pounded in my ears, but I opened it quickly and withdrew the contents: a handful of books and a map, the latter depicting a ship crowned with a strange orb floating above it. Its purpose eluded me, and I needed to know why he wanted Emelyn alive. I set it aside, my focus narrowing on the texts—one on soul sacrifices. I’d never heard of such a thing. The other was on Celestial Fae.
Flipping through the first, I absorbed the words with urgency because I didn't have much time. The book offered little I did not already know. A Celestial Fae could indeed warp your mind, bending them as easily as one might fold a sheet of parchment. Yet why would such a being aid my father? My mother, Rhet, and I shared their lineage, noticeable due to our affinity for shadows, but very few people knew where she was and our power had been diluted by our father’s bloodline.
Sure, Valla, with her fire that she’d eventually honed into lightning, possessed power to rival many, but the subtler arts of darkness were ours alone. What could my father possibly have to command a Celestial's obedience?
The question wormed its way into my thoughts, gnawing at the certainty I held about my father's impenetrable mind. How had he erected such defenses that not even our kind could breach them?
I barely noticed the soft thud as a map slid from between the pages of the book. It was intricately marked, lines converging and diverging, but one path had been traced with an urgent, jagged insistence. It led to a solitary point in the northern reaches of the Ember Mountains—a remote place. My eyes lingered on that deliberate mark, my mind racing. What compelled my father to send his men into such empty terrain? Could he have found some Celestial Fae to do his bidding? Was he protected from them as he was from my abilities? My mind circled back to that woman in the throne room again. I had never seen her before and I hadn’t seen her since. Everything about that night had been wrong. She’d had something to do with this. I just knew it.
With a sense of dread tightening around my heart, I turned my attention to the next book. The leather cover was old, the binding cracked. I skimmed through the pages, the words searing themselves into my understanding with sickening clarity.
A soul could be offered, not to some god or otherworldly power, but as a shield for oneself. It was a ritual most profane—linking another's soul to an object of one's own, thereby rendering the victim a husk, devoid of will, enslaved to the whims of their murderer. The pieces of this puzzle began to click into place, each revelation more horrifying than the last.
Could it be that my father had done the unthinkable? Had he sacrificed a Celestial to render himself untouchable, even to us, his own kin? To protect his mind against my mother or to guard against any future betrayal from me? It was a strategy as cunning as it was abhorrent. But in doing so, he would nullifyone of our greatest strengths and would be on a more even playing field by only being able to use weapons and elemental bending. That had to be why my shadows couldn’t do anything to him.
The text suggested that the more powerful the soul, the stronger the enchantment. It would make sense for him to want a Celestial, but was his plan to do this to Emelyn as well? She was the most powerful. Did he want her alive to sacrifice her and then bind to his will so she lost all sense of herself and he could use her against his enemies? Rage coursed under my skin at the thought. If that were the case, it meant my father would be able to wield the power of the Peacebringer. Fuck. I wouldn’t let him get Emelyn. I kept reading until I found my next answer to my next question: how could we stop it?
Pages fluttered in my haste, and then there it was: to sever the enchantment, we had to destroy the vessel or object that housed the tethered soul. My pulse hammered against my temples, my mind a mess of dread and determination. If my father had done this, he wouldn’t just leave the object lying around. He wasn’t stupid. He would probably have it on his person at all times. A ring or a weapon maybe?
My fingers trembled at the thought of trying to destroy something of his that he kept on him, but there was no time for hesitation. If it was keeping him safe from our powers, then I must find a way and then kill him quickly. Maybe I could end this before he invaded.
I glanced through the window and noticed the dying light. The day had slipped between my fingers like sand. Ace—shit, I was late. I needed to check on him today and bring him dinner. Maybe we could come up with a plan together.
I shuffled the books back into their hidden drawer, my movements precise, leaving no trace of my intrusion. With one last, sweeping glace to ensure everything appeared untouched, Islipped from my father’s office. Ace needed me, but then, maybe I’d be able to end this and get him out of there. My feet carried me swiftly through the winding corridors. Valla could have visited while I was away, inflicting who knew what torments on him. The thought made me blow out a breath. I was tired of watching him go through this, of seeing him in pain because of her, but week after week, he assured me he didn’t want to go until I figured out why my father wanted Emelyn alive. Now that I thought I’d finally had something, I was a little hopeful for the first time in a long while.
I burst into my chambers, memories of Emelyn flooding back. Her laughter when my shadows would play with her, our time together at the light festival, how I would catch the way her eyes would sparkle when she admired me from a distance. If only I could hold her, love her freely without this damned war tearing us apart.
I shook myself, going into the bathroom and reaching for the medical kit I always kept prepared. My shadows writhed around me, feeding on my eagerness to get to the dungeon. The familiar peace of my Hollow enveloped me as I stepped through. Moments later, I emerged in the dank cell where Ace was kept. My shadows probed the darkness, confirming we were alone before retreating completely.
The stench hit me first. Blood, charred flesh, and something far worse. As my eyes adjusted, bile rose in my throat at the sight before me.
"Ace," I choked out, rushing over to him and dropping to my knees beside his broken form. "No . . . ," I murmured, my voice cracking with emotion. "No, no, no."
His body was crumpled, the worse I’d ever seen it, blood and burns littered about. Every inch of exposed skin was blackened and bruised, but that wasn't the worst of it. My gaze traveled to his back, and I felt my world tilt.
Where his wings had stretched, there were now only gaping wounds. The acrid smell of ash assaulted my nostrils, and my eyes fell upon a small, dark pile on the stone floor. The remnants of his wings, reduced to nothing.
I choked on a sob, my hands hovering uncertainly over Ace's battered body. But I didn’t have time to let my emotions swallow me. I had to save him. I needed to touch him, tend to his wounds the best I could, but fuck, I feared I’d only cause him more pain.
"Ace," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Can you hear me?"
No response. My heart hammered in my chest as I gently pressed my fingers to his neck, searching for a pulse. It was there, but weak, too weak.
