Page 59 of Embers of Midnight
Inside, my room is the same steady temperature as always. The ward lines sit quiet. I set the sugar packet Vex gave me on the nightstand like a charm and drop the thermos by the door to return tomorrow because it feels important to finish that ritual.
I lie on my bed and let the day replay. My stomach still flips when I think about how close Ash’s mouth was to mine before the bell got jealous. Butterflies and stones, still cohabitating. I can carry both. For once, it doesn’t feel like a lie.
I turn off the light. The room holds steady. My body unclenches one inch at a time. I fall asleep quickly for the first time sinceAlaska, with a roof in my chest and four separate gravities tugging at the same center, and the ridiculous, stubborn thought that keeps surviving: this might be home, and I might be allowed to want it.
Ironbridge
Seraphina
Movie afternoon was supposed to be harmless. Ronan picked something with swords and wigs that lost a fight with humidity. Ash supplied commentary at a rate that should require a permit. Caelum corrected every sigil on screen under his breath. Darian pretended to read while his thumb traced slow circles over the back of my hand like he was timing my pulse on purpose.
I sat between Ronan and Darian and let myself take up space. Ronan’s shoulder supported my weight without asking questions. Darian’s palm fit against mine like it had trained for the job.Morrowdecided my lap was better than the rug and lowered his chin across my thighs with the gravity of a practiced move. His breath warmed through denim. I scratched the spot behind his ear that makes the rumble start. It traveled into my knees and took a slice of the day’s static with it.
On the armrest,Vexinched toward the popcorn with criminal patience. He looked at the ceiling when he stole a kernel, as ifpretending innocence counted as a legal defense.Silkslooped around Ash’s wrist like a living bracelet, tongue tasting the air every few seconds, scales cool against his skin whenever he stroked her without noticing.
Yesterday had been all games and trash talk and a walk that ended with snow down Ash’s collar because I am not above revenge. The light feeling from it lingered in my chest like a new muscle that wanted exercise.
The house ping cut through the credits. One low tone, clean and even. Heads turned to the hallway. Ronan paused the movie. Morrow’s ears lifted. Vex froze with a kernel in his beak like a thief at a spotlight. Silks lifted her head and held still.
Ash stood in one motion, grin dimming into focus. “Job.”
My lap emptied. I stood too. My stomach kicked, then settled. “I’m coming.”
No one argued. Ronan searched my face, not to deny me, to check stability. I let him see the part that was steady. He nodded once.
We moved to the war room. The table threw up a map of an industrial block with a long building in the center and a line of bells down its spine. Prime — Ironbridge Foundry.Data scrolled: heat spikes, reports of smoke, low-frequency noise, patrols logged two streets over.
Darian’s voice smoothed into briefing mode without turning into drill sergeant. “Target reads as a Cinder wyrmling. Young. Two to three meters. Basalt plates. Resonance-sensitive. Short melt bursts when startled.”
Caelum dragged schematics into place with quick fingers. “Bell line is a trigger. One chain taps, the resonance spikes. It will ride the note until it cooks itself or drops a beam.”
Ash touched Silks with his knuckle. She lifted her head, tongue fast, then settled. “Hunters have been circling that district all week. We have a window, not a blanket.”
I planted my hands on the table to stop them from floating. “I need to be there. Heat-drunk and hungry is my lane. I can lead it without torching the place. Slow pulses, steady path, no injuries.”
Ronan held my gaze. “Conditions.” His voice was steady, not soft. “You stay within arm’s reach of one of us. If I say out, you go. If Darian says down, you drop. You lead the creature; we manage the room.”
“I agree,” I said. I meant it.
Caelum tipped his head. “I’ll run counter-resonance. If it spikes, I flatten it. You keep your rhythm even.”
Darian tapped two fingers against his own wrist. “Cues. One tap means I am anchoring you. Two taps means step left. Three taps means abort. No debate.”
“Understood.”
Ash swept a hand at the model bells. “I can mute clappers with shadow, but only so far.Vexscouts chain lines and rails.Silkspins any clapper that looks like a liability.Morrowstays with Ronan and blocks if anything spits.”
Vex cawed once like he had invented safety. Morrow thumped his tail against the doorframe, the sound low and solid. Silks slid a loop tighter and stilled.
Ronan handed me a bottle of water and waited until I drank. “Food when we get back,” he said. He was not asking. It eased something anyway.
We geared up light. No hero kits. Darian pocketed a thin suppressor ring. Caelum tucked chalk and a small vial of rune ink behind his ear. Ash checked anchors like a man checking knots. Ronan pulled fingerless gloves on and looked at me, not the door. “Breathe,” he said.
I did.
We stepped through.
Prime was wet air and old metal. The foundry sat long and squared, with a central hall, catwalks along the sides, and the bell line hanging like a spine. The smell was oil, dust, and the kind of damp that sneaks under collars. Sound bounced. I could feel the echo on my skin.
