Page 91 of A City of Flames

Too quick does my heart recognize how that was the start of what one day would be the venators. She’d formed them from the beginning.

“After that, the treaty was formed, the war stopped, and we all had to bow down to the new leader of Emberwell.” The shifter waves a hand, but the bitterness in his scoff is clear. “You know the rest.”

I do, at least I think I do. Huffing, I ask, “How did she craft that weapon?”

He snorts in remembrance. “We called it the Northern blade. But before that, when Aurum killed Sybil, Sarilyn spent a long time in Terranos, right before the screaming forests were formed by Dusan, the Elven king.”

I straighten at the mention of the Elven king, and the shifter notices, parting his lips and wetting the corner of them. “You’ve heard of the stories about the Isle of Elements, haven’t you?” He speaks.

I don’t answer, but my expression conveys that I have. It’s where the festivities for Noctura come from, the release of its magic. Without it, who knows what our lands would be like now.

The shifter makes his way towards the bars, adding, “How it contains the power of Solaris and Crello. Grants what you desire... and more.” His head now tilts, getting a better look at me. “The only ones who have access to it are the Elves. So, whatever happened during that time she spent there; the Isle of Elements played a part.” He waits for any reaction out of me before shrugging. “And according to others that’s how she lost her powers, obtaining that very sword before the supposed Elven king cut all ties with kingdoms, creating the—”

“You don’t know what might have caused the Elven king to do that? Did the queen—”

“Possibly,” he says, knowing where my question was heading. “But no one wants to go through that forest, you’re just as good as dead, and once you cross the threshold between Emberwell and the Screaming Forests, shifters, witches, and whomever else become powerless.”

Powerless? I’ve always assumed the creatures that lie within the forest are what makes it so dangerous. But for a shifter or a witch, unable to use their magic is just as perilous.

“Besides, many times, we almost went to wars against other kingdoms just because of Aurum—because he wanted more power than he already had. He wanted to reign over every land.” He sighs, wrapping his fingers on the handles.

“But where is the sword now?” I don’t even really know why I’m asking, but if she has it, there might be more to it that even the shifters do not know.

“Last I heard was that twenty years ago, Sarilyn had someone destroy it.”

I frown at the number. Why did it take her that long before she decided to destroy it? I want to ask the shifter exactly that, but a screech of gates opening and closing come from a different direction of the dungeons. Assuming it’s venators, I know I can’t stay down here anymore. I look back at the shifter, handing him the vial of ash. “Here, it will last you until I come up with a way to get you out.”

He glances at it as I wait for him to grab, snatch, pry it off me in some way, but he just smirks. “What if I tell you I want something more?”

“That wasn’t part of the deal,” I say to him, shaking the ash for him to take it. Annoyance colors my voice as I stare at where I’d come from, hoping no venator appears. Instead, panic rolls over me as his fingers close around my wrist and jerk me forward.

“I’ve been in hiding for centuries, and when they finally captured me, I’d not cared for what they might do to me, but—” He drops his head to my arm, inhaling “—strangely, you draw me in. I don’t know what it is.”

I focus my glare on him. “And you never will, so let go.”

He doesn’t. He laughs as I pull at my arm and struggle through the bars. For a shifter that should be weakened from the chains, he still possesses an unnatural strength.

I tell him to let go again. He ignores it, pressing his nails into my skin. I wince and drop the ash. He’s a lunatic; he must be. From what he’s seen throughout centuries to being locked up, what else has he got to lose?

I use my other hand to grab my blade from the sheath, but I’m limited in movement. With my knuckles crushing against the cool steel and alarm pulsing through me, I find the hilt and tear it free.

It’s a blur of seconds where I’m unaware of what’s happening as the force knocks me back and I trip. I never hit the ground as hands catch me around my waist, and I watch my crescent flip in the air and fall. Something else then crashes onto the floor. All I see are shards and fluorescent red splattered everywhere before the shifter yelps like an animal just having been struck by a weapon.

My ears ring, baffled as I stare at him, whimpering and clinging onto his arm in agony. When I look at the trail of red liquid leading up to the shifter, I also realize I’m still in someone’s arms.

I raise my head, and it hits the chest of Lorcan. He’s here. He’s staring down at me with confusion and possibly anger tormenting his features. I don’t see Freya nearby and wonder if he’s come from a different part of the dungeons.

“Lorcan—” I start when he moves past me, and I swivel with narrowing brows, watching him bend down.

Once he stands and slowly turns, my heart beats sporadically. He’s holding my crescent as he walks back to me. I’m breathing so hard I’ll soon fall unconscious if I keep going. His eyes never leave the crescent as he flips it over and notices the engraving of the letter R. A sharp breath leaves him, shocked, confused, everything I can imagine as his thumb glides the markings.

I reach out to it gently, and he still doesn’t take his eyes off it as I drag it away from him. I repeat his name, but a low groan from the shifter’s cell finally snaps Lorcan out of his trance.

We both look at the shifter, coiled up on the floor, panting and wincing in pain. His hand squeezes his other arm so tight that veins bulge underneath his skin.

“What did you do to him?” Lorcan rasps, treading carefully to the blood painted everywhere. I follow behind, shaking my head because I hadn’t done anything. My eyes scan the shards and then stop at the label stuck to the floor.

Faerie blood.

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