Page 87 of A City of Flames

“No, I don’t. I’m not sure I’ll ever see him again.” I frown, eyeing the candle. Seeing him means he’s a step closer to getting caught, especially after Noctura. As infuriating as it sounds, he’s right; I no longer want him captured. He helped my brothers. However, it doesn’t mean I’ve stopped my dislike for him—

I straighten on my chair as a thought materializes, and I peg Leira with a stare. “There was a shifter there, in the dungeons. He—he’d looked at me, and maybe—maybe he knows more than anyone.”

A slight crease forms on Leira’s brow, and her lips pucker to the side. “Why would she keep him in the dungeons? What purpose does that shifter serve for her?”

That’s what I’d questioned when I was down there.

“Because she’s likely to use him for one of the trials.” Freya’s voice cuts across the room, and Leira and I turn our heads to her. It’s the first she’s spoken since we left the barracks. She averts her gaze, nerves leaping out of her as she fiddles with the hook of her cloak. “I heard my father speaking to Soren—another venator of how the trials were to be set harder this time. With only less than a month for it, I’d imagine that could be why he’s there. Whenever they’ve caught shifters, they’ve usually always been sentenced to death. I imagine that would be the same if they caught the Golden Thief.”

“No,” I immediately say. I’m quick to recall what the queen mentioned at the dining table. “She thinks he can lead her to where most if not all shifters reside.” When I look at Leira, her eyes are on Freya, analyzing her just as I’d seen earlier. It is no judgment but still hard to read what she’s thinking.

“And I suppose you want to speak to the shifter down there,” she says pointedly, dragging her gaze from Freya.

“It’s a start.” It doesn’t take much to know that is my intention. However, Leira’s ability to read emotions likely helps with how much desperation is reeling off me.

“It’s also dangerous.”

“Anything can be dangerous, Leira.”

I’ve risked a lot by now. If talking to the shifter gains me access to whatever secrets lie beyond Emberwell and the queen, then I’m willing to do it.

Leira sighs heavily, and the chair creaks as she rests her back against it. She can see there’s no chance of convincing me not to go. I imagine that makes her think of my father as she looks at the table with a soft reminiscent smile. Out of my brothers and me, I am the one that takes after my father the most. It was never just the hair or specific features. We both always followed our curiosities until it got us in trouble, and we craved a fearless passion that drove us to adventures.

I want to mention him again, ask more of what he spoke about before his passing, but Leira, without a word, gets off the chair and walks to a shelf on the side, rifling through jars of all kinds.

Bracing my hands on the table, I rise, trying to gather what she’s doing. Her thick curls bounce as she tip-toes to reach something, and with a victorious hum, she turns towards me.

“Here.” Her voice sounds breathless as she passes a vial containing black dust. “It’s ash from the Helland volcanoes, if the shifter is in any pain, this will help, and in return, you can gain answers from him.”

I smile in appreciation, unable to get a thanks out as I look down at the vial. Once I’d ran out of here, not trusting what Leira had told me, yet circumstances have changed. And remembering that shifter, the eyes close to the color of this ash, I picture his tattoos, two spirals meaning an Umbrati. “Leira?” I run my thumb over the glass and glance up at her with a question I’ve been dying to ask. “What does it mean if a shifter bears no tattoos?”

I’m not sure what comes first, the jerk of her head or the rapid blinking. “That’s... that’s unusual.”

“Why?”

“Because it means twin witches performed magic to remove them.”

“Twin witches?” Freya suddenly exclaims with a frown but quickly steps back. Her reaction is exactly like mine. My extent of knowledge within witches isn’t as vast, but I’d not thought it could be that.

“We haven’t heard of any twins in a while.” Leira nibbles on her bottom lip. “It’s dangerous and forbidden as they are the strongest among us, only they can remove shifter tattoos, but it’s painful. And unless there is a particular reason for it, witches won’t just remove it willingly.”

My eyes narrow into a frown. What must have Darius’s reasons been to remove them? “So, it’s uncommon?”

“Extremely,” she says. “If a witch is even to give birth to twins now, one is likely to be taken away.”

I wince at the horrible truth before Aelle approaches us and rests her hand on Leira’s back. Her auburn locks are plaited with similar crystals to Leira gracing it as it drapes over her shoulder. “We should head back before it gets late,” she says to Leira and shoots me a warm smile.

Leira nods, affection glistening on her features as Aelle walks off, bidding us goodbye. I grip harder onto the vial and then put it away into my sheath once Leira looks at me. Her brows draw together, and it’s like she’s struggling whether to bring this up or not, but then she says softly, “Nara... do you remember the last time you were here, what I’d said before you left?”

An unknown force presses against my chest; I feel it with each heavy breath. The haunting lullaby she sang to me. I’ve not forgotten it since that day.

The sun blooms again, for she has found her moon,

Death reign and resurrection commence,

But he who shall bear thy wicked bite,

A beast no less, though a heart of gold...

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