Page 64 of A War of Embers

Shrugging, I heft the sack on my shoulder to redistribute the weight. “Sereia using her talons didn’t have any effect on me. Because this isn’t someone actively touching me, where my body acts as a cell to the souls, it might help to kill the body first and then the souls can rest.” Although it’s only a theory as to how to get past the magical element protecting the souls in my chest, I feel it should work. Magic clearly can affect my body based on the way I reacted within the Haze. So why shouldn’t magically enhanced fire be able to kill me?

Alyvia hums. “And if the dragon’s fire does nothing, the witch also doesn’t have to touch you to remove your souls.”

“Precisely. The vessel of my body has a tendency to enact strongly when threatened. This way there’s no actual harm.”

Alyvia nods in understanding. “Did you bring the jewels? I never got to see what you purloined from Lord Rowan’s private study.”

Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the bag and withdraw the small string keeping it sealed. Inside, I point them towards her, though the darkness makes them almost look black inside the white cloth. “I figured only taking these would make it appear less likely that other spots had been rifled through. If we end up needing more down the line, I know where to go.”

“Even though it was my idea, I still am in awe of your abilities to enter his private study when hardly anyone else is ever granted access but you’ve been in there three times now.”

“Yeah, the house enjoys fucking with me when it grants access,” I mumble, still loud enough for her to hear. Alyvia raises her brow at me, silently telling me to continue. “Originally when the door appeared, it didn’t lead me into Rowan’s study. It led me into his bedchamber.”

“You’re joking,” Alyvia gasps. “I don’t think anyone is permitted to enter there. None of the cleaning staff even know where his room is.” She looks off towards the eerie trees with a thoughtful expression. “The estate must sense you aren’t a danger to him.”

A danger? No. The estate seems to be implying something far more salacious with its trickery. Killing Rowan was never in the game plan. Although it suited me fine when I arrived here from Tellus, killing any Lord or Lady as a vessel to Lady Gwenyth should have been fine. Yet I still place value in innocents, regardless of my past. “Funny how the terrors you’re told as a child grow up to be the least cruel beings in existence,” I murmur. Monsters are no longer simple stories, they are true beings with families and names. The true villains became those who sought to rule mortals and lesser beings of their kind, those like Lady Gwenyth.

We continue in silence for miles, our legs growing weary against the dirt path. Eventually we walk under a lone stone archway acting as a gate. No wall to keep ruffians out, no guards walking the perimeter. I know from Meredith and Deena that guards do come here to patrol, but being further inland seems to mean less crime occurs. Then again, with the Bone City butting up against a well populated area of the Wraithlands, perhaps it's not this trail that takes the guards focus.

Upon entering the grounds, the road splits off. Straight ahead the towering buildings are visible, only a few trees scattered between us. To the right, the path continues into the thicket of the forest, heading for where the map claims one of the few villages for creatures are. We set off on the right side, making sure to keep a leisurely stroll instead of coming off as though we’re marching into a battle.

Within the trees, the world seems to darken dramatically. Pure magic pulses in the air, igniting a cool breeze to ruffle our hair as we continue on. Footsteps can be heard up ahead along with raised voices. Another few hundred yards in and we come to a brick pathway where guards patrol on, an archway standing alone against one side. Beyond it, the ground crumbles away. The trees, grass, and darkness abruptly stop on the brick edge. An ashy soot covers the ground on the other side, lit with a glowing red mist from pyres seen miles away.

“You can’t be here,” a guard, stiff in voice and shoulders says as he walks towards us. He’s heavyset, buckled in armor too small, and a beard barely worthy of being attached to his face with the way it looks to only be chunks of hair on his cheeks and jawline.

“We can be wherever we please, thank you,” Alyvia’s prim and proper tone pulls a smile from me. Ever the host, ready to stare down her nose at someone until they remember their place and whom they’re speaking to. “We have matters that allow us to enter the Wraithlands.”

“It’s the second day of the Haze,” the man scoffs.

Alyvia sets her bag on the ground, unlatching the buckle, and producing two blue scarves for the guard to see. “We won’t be subject to the Haze mist.”

Again, my inner voice taunts. I mentally scold it while glaring at the guard keeping us from moving along. “If you don’t mind, this is time sensitive.” It’s a lie, but he doesn’t need to be any wiser to our dealings.

The man turns to look at me, really soaking in my features for the first time. I know the minute his gaze lands on the mark on my cheek because his already stiff composure wilts, face paling as he quickly backs up a step. “I d-didn’t realize,” he stutters.

“Well, now you do,” Alyvia chirpily says. “Now, if you don’t mind, we have places to be.” She hands me a scarf, quickly looping her own around her neck before pulling it up over her nose.

Grunting in dismissal at the guard, I turn away from him and mimic Alyvia’s movements until the scarf she gave me sits firmly on my face. Without preamble, we step through the archway into the Wraithlands.

Immediately the world begins to heat up. Even though I can’t smell the spicy aroma as I did before, something still tingles down my spine as if the world here is saying I remember you. Thankfully this time, although I can feel the heat, it’s not as debilitating as it was prior. This time, it’s almost like being out in the sun on the pier of Cinnabar during the warmer months. Tolerable, but still hot.

Once we’re too far away for the guards to overhear our conversation, Alyvia shivers turns towards me. “I honestly thought he was going to detain us if we didn’t listen to him.”

Furrowing my brow, I stare at her to see if she’s joking or not. “He barely said anything to us. He didn’t even come off like an enemy. If anything he’s just a bit rude in greeting people. Why would you think he would detain us?”

“I think my nerves are just making me hyperaware of everything right now. I never seek out trouble. I thought that was where we would get caught if we did.”

“Really?” I muse, chuckling. “I thought we would get found out here by some of the scouts.”

“Lord Rowan doesn’t monitor this part of the Wraithlands with people from the estate. The people who run his home here in Bone City take care of it.”

“I see.” Therefore no one would know who I am. The blue scarf tucked around my face at least hides the mark I’m becoming rather well known for. I can’t decide if it’s better or worse than being the immortal.

“Just let me do the talking when we arrive,” Alyvia dictates. “They won’t question me on why we’re looking for someone in particular. For all they know Lord Rowan wishes me to pass along a message to them. This wouldn’t be the first time I've been tasked with doing something like this.”

“Even though you’re from the Blood City?”

“But I was raised here in the Bone City. Technically I qualify as one of them when it suits me,” Alyvia says with a little laugh. “Sometimes it’s beneficial having moved around the way I have to climb the estate’s proverbial ladder until I’m as close to the top as someone like me can get.”

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