Page 62 of A War of Embers

Instead, the Cliff of Embers in Rowan’s map shows a depiction of portal or void. A long sentry stands guard in front of it, his face smeared by charcoal. Behind the portal lay mountains full of burning embers on the grounds, laying in a peace so powerfully drawn it’s almost tangible. My fingernails scrape along the edge of the mountains, longing filling my body as I stare in amazement and wonder at the beautifully shown resting place.

This must be what the room wanted me to see. The fact it’s approving of my end goal is hope-filling as it helps me to achieve it. Gently I run my thumb over the embers, their red glossy paint sparking a fire in my soul before I step away from the table in a silent goodbye.

Finally, the plan can begin to take motion.

“Thank you,” I tell the room, the notion of gratitude feeling odd in my body. Having said the words multiple times before, they carry little meaning. Simply a way to express a blanket of appreciation without much emotion behind it. Now I can feel the emotion swelling in my chest, raising my heartbeat.

Exiting the room with a soft click of the door, I stare into the ordinary hallway in a blank state. Adrenaline begins to slowly seep into my veins as I walk away, back towards the library to see Alyvia and the progress she’s made. Battle ready energy is climbing higher and higher, eliciting a warmth in my blood I haven’t felt in a very long time.

As I make my way back towards the library, no one stops me as we pass. For a moment, I almost expect someone to know I have jewels hidden on me and demand I hand them over, but no one does. The servants continue to ignore my existence much like they have since I arrived here in Aïdes. Nox also seems to have disappeared entirely. Although with how determined I am, it’s possible I’ve missed him lurking around a corner as I keep an eye out for anyone who might stop me.

Thankfully I make it back in peace. The woman at the desk is still flipping through a magazine, completely oblivious to her surroundings. Maybe she doesn’t get too many people in here so she simply doesn’t care about her job.

Alyvia is standing over the table, two neat piles of red and green books situated on top. She’s flipping through one of the green books still as I approach. When I get to her side, I realize she’s not looking at the witches who might be alive in whatever family she’s researching, but at their ancestors.

“Do you think a grandmother is going to help us?” I ask her.

She doesn’t startle, but shakes her head in response. “No, I don’t. I recognized a name in another book and wanted to make the connection.” She points to a picture of a no-nonsense looking elderly woman in a polka-dotted dress. “This is Madame Lucille Bonfonte. She’s a witch who can also shapeshift. Not uncommon in the Wraithlands for species to cross over, but the gift itself can be wild and unpredictable on who it ends up with. When I was looking for someone to fit our narrowed career field, I noted a newly wedded couple, and recognized her surname. Her granddaughter was born with the same gift.”

“Would the granddaughter be of any help?”

“She might be a lead. She’s been known to be able to procure just about anything,” Alyvia murmurs. “Some of its rare artifacts, some of its illegal substances. She has connections, so if nothing else pans out then she can be our next plan.”

“Great.”

“How was your trip?” She flicks her eyes quickly towards the librarian before raising her brows at me.

“Successful.” Hopefully the jewels are worth something. I’ll have Alyvia check when we go to leave and are out of the realm of prying eyes. “Are we finished here?”

She bends down and holds out a piece of paper with the names of people from the books. “Yes. I need to put these all back and then we can head out after dinner. I need to make sure we’re appropriately backed for the journey. It can be grueling for those of us who aren’t immortal.”

Smiling, I shake my head quickly before grabbing the books to help her place them back in order on the bookcases. “I forget sometimes how mortals have needs that I no longer require. Sustenance and sleep are few and far between for me. I can eat a meal and last several weeks without another bite. Sleep is beneficial, but I’ve operated without sleep for long stretches of time. I’m a lot more angry during those times, though.”

“You mean you have times when you’re not angry?” Alyvia teases, her lips quirking. “You’ve actually been quite mellow since you arrived here. I always thought immortals were constantly fighting and devouring people’s souls.” When I flick an eyebrow up at her last comment, she explains. “Not literally. When you take a soul after a kill, what happens to it? Does it wink out of existence and show up at the Cliff of Embers or does it float off in the wind? I’ve never seen anyone die before to know what occurs.”

“Sometimes both,” I answer honestly. “Sometimes, if you’re fast enough, you snuff it out of existence entirely.”

Alyvia abruptly halts her movements. Her mouth tumbles open in a state of shock. “You snuff out souls? Is it possible for immortals to do that?”

“It’s possible to do it to lesser beings. I, and other immortals, can only do it to mortal souls. I believe Lords and Ladies can do it to any being, however. That’s what I wanted Rowan to try, but he’s too busy with the Haze to spare me five minutes.”

“Well,” Alyvia says after slotting the last book in place. She comes over to link her arm through mine as she guides me out of the library, “It’s a good thing you have someone like me to help you when men aren’t willing to do it.”

Smiling wryly at her enthusiasm for helping me die, I nod in agreement. “Yes, lucky me.”

Squinting at the forest ahead, I shift on the back of the horse beneath me and try to figure out what invisible barrier is stopping the steed in its tracks.

Alyvia comes up beside me, her mare halting as well. Frowning, she reaches forward, past her horse’s head, and waves her hand through the air with no issues.

“Do you think it’s meant to keep the animals from entering the city limits?” I ask. After nearly six hours on horseback in the middle of the night, I thought we’d be riding through the Bone City’s gates or under an archway or however you get inside.

From this distance, we’re still miles away on foot. There’s light streaming off the golden roofs at the base of the mountain even in the dead of darkness. Apparently this city doesn’t sleep unlike the Blood City.

“We’re going to have to hike the rest of the way there,” I inform her.

Alyvia makes a disgruntled noise in the back of her throat. “Maybe Lord Rowan placed a distance on his horses so people wouldn’t steal them.”

That would’ve been nice to know before we snuck into the stables and procured the tamest horses we could find. “How long from the Bone City is it into the Wraithlands before we meet with the dragon?”

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