Page 11 of The Obsidian Curse

Niara, I am in your debt for releasing me. You have my deepest thanks.I reach my hand forward until it barely grazes the edge of the water cage. She blinks rapidly, staring at it, before reaching her arm through the barrier and grasping my forearm.

Her skin is cool, mine is warm. Where we touch, a tiny, sizzling column of steam rises. She sucks in a breath. The draw I feel toward her is so intense it frightens me, scares me. I cannot tell her everything I know, but...

The sound of footsteps approaching causes the guard nearby to jolt to wakefulness.You must go now. Someone is coming.

Her gaze darts around, and she releases my hand. My fingers shiver at the loss of contact.

What will you do now?she asks.

As she stands, I concentrate on the heat within me and ripple, transforming back into the beast. Without the magic of the collar, I have control. I can stay in human form for short periods, but being away from the volcano is slowly draining me. I don't tell Niara this. I grasp the collar, which is now just an inert piece of jewelry, and replace it around my neck.

At her confused expression I smile, knowing the display of sharp teeth is frightening in this form but that she will not be afraid.I will bide my time until I know who summoned me and why.

She retreats, walking backward into the shadows.Will you come back tomorrow night?I ask her.

The darkness swallows her before she responds. Her simpleYescauses my heart to beat faster. I will be waiting.

10

niara

The fifth dayof the Holy Convergence dawned with twin halos around the mother and daughter suns, a rare and unexpected phenomenon that the Order would no doubt interpret as an auspicious sign. For me, it felt like a warning—bright rings of fire watching me from above.

I’d barely slept after returning from my encounter with Keeran. An Ember Fae prince. First cursed as a young man and then summoned by Water Mages against his will. That meant one ofuswanted him captured. Someone knew exactly who and what he was. But who could it be?

Only a priest or priestess would have the ability to channel enough power in order to summon an Ember Fae. As much as I wanted to entrust High Priestess Valya with this information, part of me was afraid. Could it have been her? Shewasthe most powerful Mage. And if she wasn’t the culprit, as I desperately hoped, would she believe me?

I decided that I needed to speak with Amal again. As the High Warden, he was tasked with our protection and security. While he was a martial arts expert, his magecraft was not such that he could have summoned Keeran. The threat the traitor posed to the Mages was great, and he would certainly have better ideas on how to flush this person out.

As the camp was being struck, I moved purposefully through the flotilla. The vessels were anchored close together, connected by floating walkways that bobbed gently with the waves. When we departed, they would be retracted, but they aided in loading and offloading all the camp supplies.

The wardens usually kept to a predictable schedule, doing training and drills in the hour after breaking their fast. I spotted Safina going through the forms of Fluidhand, her lithe body making the martial art look like a dance. I gave her a wave and scanned the soldiers for the High Warden, but he was nowhere to be found.

Safina, probably sensing my distress and urgency, left her row to meet me on the floating bridge.

“Have you seen Amal?” I asked her.

“He and Priestess Ylena were heading toward the curator skiffs earlier. Why?”

“It’s, umm...” I wanted to tell her everything, but I spotted the Second Warden glaring in our direction. I couldn’t get my best friend into trouble right now. “We’ll talk later. I’ve got something big to tell you, but I need to speak with Amal first.”

She nodded, still concerned, and squeezed my shoulder before returning to the deck of the galleon.

The three curator skiffs normally surrounded the HighCurator’s massive schooner and, as far as I knew, contained mainly offices and study rooms. It seemed an odd place for Ylena and Amal to have a meeting. Two of the vessels were in their normal location, while the last had been moored at the edge of the flotilla, away from the bustle of the main ships. Something about that felt odd to me, so I decided to check there first.

I approached slowly on the floating walkway, noticing the lack of activity. The other ships were being loaded with equipment, but this one was suspiciously quiet. So quiet that I could hear voices rising from an interior room. I circled to the port side, where a porthole’s rusty latch had come a loose, cracking it open a sliver.

“If you can’t get this done—” Amal was saying.

“If you weren’t changing things every other day, we wouldn’t have to—” That was Ylena, sounding irritated as usual.

“Do you need me to speak slower? Because I will.” Amal’s tone was mocking. “It’s an ancient text. Written in verse. In an arcane language. The meanings of some passages are open for interpretation. The Second Curator said?—”

“You brought the Second Curator into this?” Ylena hissed.

“I asked her an abstract question, framing it as a thought experiment. She said our original interpretation was too modern. The translation of ‘Solareth vheren’kai trehal drahal’ as ‘Fire is captured before the ultimate end’ more likely refers to the night before the final day instead of the final day. So we need to act on the second to last night of the Holy Convergence.”

I pressed closer to the ship’s hull, heart hammering against my ribs. What were they planning for the second to last day?

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