Page 140 of Jeweler to the Blessed
“Don’t rush her,” Charon growled. “And yes. The Cursed is the reason I’m here, though Alaric tells me he’s not wholly unredeemable, hence his ability to still draw breath.”
He glared at Hart, and that time, I knew he spoke to Hart as well.
“You look like shit, Charon. Whatever Alaric tried didn’t work.”
I glared at Hart. He knew this was where Alaric was headed.
“Why did he need to do anything? What’s wrong?” I asked.
“He needs Chaos’s magic,” Hart said.
The dragon—Charon, Hart had called him—growled again, flashing teeth at Hart. “If there is anything you want to say to me you’d rather not say before the Cursed, just think it.”
It was another reminder that everyone had known who Hart was but me. Charon must be able to control when he spoke only to me versus when he spoke to both of us.
“Think of what you want me to know, and I’ll hear it,”he said.
I didn’t need to hide things from Hart. He already knew everything, and if Alaric had been here, trying to save Charon, he deserved to know.
My head hung as I spoke the words. “Alaric is gone.”
Charon’s head hung with mine, even as he flashed his teeth at Hart.
“Where do we stand with the Cursed?”
Hart snorted, so I assumed that went to both of us.
I felt Hart’s gaze on me, though I couldn’t bring myself to meet it. “I don’t know.”
To cut off the conversation, I let quick steps take me across the cavern. Charon lowered his snout as I moved. It wasn’t the pull of moth to flame, like what I experienced with Hart. But something drew me closer, a string taut between us. It was the same feeling I had when I entered the Oldwood before I submitted to its call.
“It’s your magic, not the Oldwood’s,” I said.
The rigid scales of his snout were within reach. It dipped in assent to my question. His nostrils flared at my approach, his lip curling, exposing teeth the length of my arm.
I pulled my glove from my hand and pressed it against him before fear overtook me.
“You’ve been calling to me for years.”
It was more of a statement, not a question. Charon seemed to understand. I thought of Mother’s replies when I spoke of my friend in the forest. It was just another way everyone in my life had kept things from me.
Under the guise of giving me a choice.
Heat consumed me when I made contact with Charon.
It was the heat of the adamas stone, the heat I’d dug for in the cold, hard ground of the Oldwood. It connected us even as it burned through us. I fell to my knees as emotion rushed through me. His, mine, I couldn’t tell one from the other. I gave him everything I had—everything I’d taken from Hart when we’d opened the door.
A scene from this cavern filled my vision. Alaric here, with Charon. A vial, very similar but much larger than what he prepared for Mother.
“He tested the youngleaf on you?”I asked through the connection.
“He tested a great many things.”Charon’s words were silenced as the image of Alaric being hauled away by guards sketched out between us.
Tears filled my eyes as the image moved to the one playing in my mind on repeat, even as I worked to suppress it: Alaric’s body crashing against the wall, Themis’s arms outstretched …
“What are we doing about it, Champion?” Charon’s voice was gravelly and filled with disgust at the sight of Themis.
“Ember, we need to get Charon out of here. We won’t have another chance.”
