Page 8 of Of Blooming Embers
“The region does better than most as long as the fish-harvesters can bring in a plentiful bounty. But the fish have been dwindling steadily over the turns.”
My belly grumbled at the interruption, and I continued eating slowly, grateful for the hot meal. A festering ire bubbled within me at the thought of people starving elsewhere.
Of citizens disappearing during the Dormancy, possibly trapped in the Stygian Murk. While the Elders—Melina, Lucan, and Ryboas—were safe in Surrelia, we barely survived. They imposed their laws on the mortal realm for their own benefit.
I could sense Gavrel studying me in silence, but I refused to meet his gaze. The broth slid down my throat, warming me. Heat bloomed in my cheeks under his unwavering perusal.
After several moments, I set my utensil in my half-empty bowl, brushing the pad of my thumb over my lips, the taste of the spices still clinging to them. Both satiated and agitated, I sighed and finally met his eyes. “What?”
He ran the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip, then grazed it with his top teeth. After setting his bowl aside, he picked up the key. “Your face is practically shouting. Anything you want to share?” One eyebrow lifted.
“Pass,” I mumbled.
“No remarks about needing to share a room?”
Unhurriedly, I pushed to my feet. “Why bother?” I moved past himtoward the steps leading to the second level, tossing my words over my shoulder. “I’m sure you won’t mind sleeping on the floor.”
A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Not at all.”
I rolled my eyes and stomped up the stairs, shoulders stiff with irritation. As we came to our room, Gavrel stepped in front of me, the key clanging against the lock. The sound clinked within my ears, and I ground my molars together.
Thoughts banged around my head, and frustration bubbled in my gut. My skin felt tight around my muscles, itching to lash out and find relief from my resurrected memories—from the stifling need to scream into the void until my throat was raw.
From the heartache festering in my chest each time I looked at Gavrel.
Each time I thought of Kaden being missing, and of our time together in Surrelia.
Rubbing the space over my heart, my forehead creased as I studied the modest room with its narrow bed and extra blankets neatly folded at the end.
I removed my muddy boots and put them next to Gavrel’s by the door. The music and chatter from below wafted up through the floorboards.
After removing my belt and dagger, I rummaged through the attached satchel, tucking the etched protection talisman within my palm.
I was fairly certain Mama had the rune stone implanted in my nape at an early age. I couldn’t remember a time when I didn’t have the star-shaped scar on the back of my neck.
If her ember was as mighty as my memories alluded, she must have feared the Elders would harm me, assuming I had an equally powerful gift. And she wasn’t wrong. My skin vibrated, and I clamped my eyes shut, disgust lining my tongue.
My mother must have been terrified that Melina would think I was the next Scion. The rest of my face crumpled, and my heart stuttered. The rune had likely been the only way Mama had known to protect me—or at least, that was what she’d believed.
With a sigh, I opened my eyes and set my belongings on the lone dresser in the corner. I moved to the window overlooking the canal. A few people strolled along the boardwalks without a care in the world. With the talisman tightly gripped in my hand, the tiny prickle of the rune’s energy comforted me.
When I sat on the bed, it squeaked under my weight, but it was clean and comfy. After tucking the stone into my pocket, I curled on my side and closed my eyes as Gavrel used the extra blankets to make a makeshift bed on the floor at the foot of the bed.
His clothes rustled as he blew out the candle, his large frame shifting as he lay down. He was a protective blockade between me and the door.
Through the muffled sounds of the tavern below, I could hear Gavrel breathing. His deep and even rhythm lulled me to sleep, sinking into the chaotic shadows of my mind.
I woke with a start,sweaty strands of hair clinging to my neck. A broken, garbled cry fell from my lips. My ember pounded under the skin of my nape.
Gavrel was beside me in an instant, his weight dipping onto the mattress. “You’re safe. Breathe.” His hand found mine and rested on top of it, anchoring me to reality.
My fingers curled into the sheets as I breathed in and out, pushing away the smoky images of Kaden screaming, his muscles tense and writhing within a murky abyss.
As my eyes adjusted to the dimness, slices of moonlight trickled in from the window, painting the ceiling in a delicate glow. Gavrel’s warmth seeped into my skin as my pulse steadied.
I pulled my hand away from his and then turned away from him and lay back down. When he rose, my heart skipped a beat. A raspy plea flew from me. “Stay.”
He stilled; the silence blanketed with our breaths and the babbling waterway outside.
