Page 32 of A War of Embers

My indigent tone seems to amuse him. Now it’s Lord Rowan who crosses his arms over his chest. “Really?” he slowly draws out with a flick of his eyebrow. “I didn’t invade another person’s realm with the sole purpose of being murdered by someone there.”

Phrasing it like that makes me sound like a psychopath. “Technically I didn’t invade your realm, your mother sent me here.”

Lord Rowan lifts his shoulder casually. “In my eyes, that’s invading.” He tilts his chin towards the doorway I came through. “You may leave now.”

Ire begins to fill my veins as I glare at him. Why is he making this so difficult? There has to be something else to it. Anyone else in his position wouldn’t bother with dragging this out. Making me suffer. Maybe he’s not so different from Lady Gwenyth after all. The mere thought of them colluding somehow, of being the same despicable being on the inside causes a tightening sensation in my chest to grow by the second until all I can feel is a gripping rage around my heart. “Can we not have a rational conversation about this?” Even as I speak, I hear the unbridled fury in my voice.

Lord Rowan moves swiftly, straight for me. He grips my chin in his hand, forcing my hips to slam into the table as my eyes twist to meet his unwavering gaze. His body crowds mine, like his proximity is going to force the fury building inside of me to extinguish on his sheer will alone. Our heaving breaths begin to mix together at our proximity. Out of my peripheral vision, I can make out the burning neon blue of his veins as he cups my chin, demanding my full attention and refusing to settle for anything but.

Reaching up, I curl my hands around his single arm holding me. For a brief moment I wonder if he’ll yank his arm away now that we’re touching, but he doesn’t. Desperately, I tug on his immovable wrist, rasping, “Help me.”

Something akin to pain lances through his eyes before the forest green seems to darken to almost black, refusing to let in any light or emotion. “This isn’t about you, Keres.”

“The hell it’s not,” I argue, trying and failing to wrench my chin out of his grasp. The movement only causes him to tighten his hold so we remain staring at one another. One monster to another. “You’re purposely making me prove myself over something that shouldn’t require this much devotion. I’ve been around for centuries, Rowan.”

Screw it, if he isn’t going to help me, then he doesn’t deserve to be addressed by his title. I’m not one of his subjects. If anything, I’ve become his new captive.

“Do you understand? I don’t want to be here anymore. I jumped into the fucking Blood Sea to escape my life, praying the Blood Witch would let me cross or some monster would rip me apart. It didn’t happen. I was sent here because you were supposed to be able to do what no one else has been able to. Don’t you understand? Your mother tried to pry my souls out. She was willing to help me. If you can’t do it, just say that and I’ll find someone who can. But don’t tell me this isn’t about me, because that’s a lie.” By the time I finish, my breathing is labored and a flush has worked its way up my neck and cheeks.

“You’re going to release some of that magic I told you to keep a grip on,” he growls without addressing anything I just said. “Contain it.”

I huff angrily. “It’s not like it’s a homing beacon for Lady Gwenyth,” I snap, even though I have no idea if that’s true or not. “And I can’t even do magic, so there’s no worry about that.”

“Remember when I told you to hide your veins?” Rowan bellows in a tight voice. “Because blue veins are a link to those with godlike souls inside of them, which is what you are housing. Very few Lords and Ladies have souls as powerful enough to contain magic, causing their veins to glow. Therefore it makes them extremely difficult to remove. My guess, the four souls you have crowding the fifth are keeping its power locked down, but the more your emotions rule you, the easier it is for the soul to utilize it as a funnel for magic to be released into this world.”

Every word chips away at the anger inside of me, leaving ashes in their wake. The memory of Sereia trying yet failing to remove the souls in my body immediately comes to mind. Is this why Lady Gwenyth was never going to offer me freedom? Because I was housing some sort of godlike power as a weapon she could one day utilize? Who’s to say she hasn’t already done so by activating one of the souls? Maybe one of them has access to the one they’re all protecting. “You can have it,” I blurt out, trying to tear my chin away from Rowan’s clasp again but he holds on. Looking up at him with pleading eyes, I continue, “I don’t want this godlike soul. You can have it. Do whatever you want with it. But get it out of me.”

He’s quiet for a long moment. The tension around his mouth eases the longer he stares at me. “You know what, Keres? I actually believe you.” He releases my chin and steps away, taking the warmth in my bones with him. “You’ve never encountered another person with blue veins, have you? We’re rare, but not that much so. I would imagine Tellus would protect their immortal host better than you clearly were.”

Protect? There’s no such word in Tellus. “I was used to dispense whatever justice or punishment Lady Gwenyth dictated.”

He takes a few steps away and leans back onto the same table he was previously against. “I remember her from the Province Wars. She was one of the more determined warriors who wanted to create the Districts. More people were power hungry, similar to her, so their drive all collected together to place them on the same side. But what I foresaw was Districts at war with one another once they were established. When boundary lines were created, soon they would be challenged. Then wars upon wars would commence in their own realm.” Rowan raises an eyebrow at me like he’s waiting for my confirmation on everything he just said to be gospel.

Quietly, I turn my head to glance towards the door and try to dislodge the lethargy now taking over my body. “It’s not like that there. Between the Districts are open lands claimed by no one. A few mercenaries or gangs live in them, but they don’t belong to a specific District.”

Tilting his head to the side, he studies me. “You really don’t wish to return.”

I’m already shaking my head before he finishes his statement. “No, I don’t. I don’t understand why this is so difficult for you to understand about me. I’m an open book when it comes to anything you need to know, the price has been the same since I fled from Tellus.”

Ignoring my comment, he asks, “What else have you done for Lady Gwenyth these past few centuries you’ve been around? How well did your family adjust to your new job?”

If I had one thing knotting up my insides, ready to unravel me at the slightest touch, it was the mention of a long forgotten world where love, affection, and family seemed just out of reach. Watching mortal families became a secret hobby of mine the last few decades, trying to recall what my life was like without truly knowing. Rowan, unbeknownst to him, just frayed a string in my heart. “I don’t know.”

An incredulous look crosses his face as he mockingly repeats my words back to me, “You don’t know?”

“I don’t remember them. The Anderson family,” I clarify when he narrows his eyes into slits. “Sometimes there’s brief flashes, but I don’t recall what my life was like. I spent so much time under the thrall of one of the souls, it seems like my memory vanished. Who I was as a person slipped away and with it so did everything else in my life.” I straighten my spine as my voice hardens. “I dream about it sometimes, what the souls do when they take over. I don’t recall which one it is, but I remember the pain and suffering every one of my victims went through when they were killed. You may think I want to someday return, but Lady Gwenyth used me to murder my entire family until there was no one left, no one to crawl back to. No one to miss me while she used me as her weapon. I made the impulse choice to escape, but hear me now, Rowan, I had been looking for an out far longer than you believe.”

Still, the knowledge of being without a family doesn’t stop his inquisition. “You have no recollection from childhood?”

“No, I don’t.” I let out a weary sigh. “Anything else you want to pry from me? I’m afraid I’m limited to my knowledge of being used as a mercenary and how your mother’s temperament affects the weather in Tellus,” I say with an air of boredom.

Rowan frowns. “I beg your pardon?”

“Your mother’s moods. The constant rain in Cinnabar is because the Blood Witch didn’t want anyone building cities on her ports. Lady Gwenyth didn’t partially adhere to that. So it rains constantly. Lately, the bitter cold that comes with the storms has also been affecting the land. It appears as though it’s decaying.”

For several long beats, he doesn’t react. He seems to barely breathe as he soaks in my words. Was this something he's unaware of? Perhaps his mother’s magic is far greater than he knows. But then, a slow smirk crosses his lips, and I realize he knows exactly what I’m speaking about. “You gave away more now than you have since you arrived.”

I roll my eyes. “Isn’t that the point of your asinine test?”

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