Page 43 of Jeweler to the Blessed
“Shall we go?” I said as cooly as I could, turning on my foot to leave the shop.
“Do you know what to expect?”
My gaze snapped to his. The question surprised me as much as that voice unnerved me. I hoped he never learned how it made me feel.
“I can handle it.” I turned again to leave.
“That’s not what I asked.” He stood in my path. “I have no doubt you could handle anything you put your mind to, Chaos. What I asked was, do you know what to expect?”
Anger flared along with my nostrils. If he knew what to expect, it could only be because Alaric told him—another piece of information Alaric had shared with him and not me.
“We don’t have time to waste. I don’t want to be in the Oldwood after dark,” I said.
We stared at each other for a long moment. In no world was I going to admit to him that I had no idea what I was doing. He had too much information already.
He let out a heavy sigh and stepped out of my way.
I wasn’t exactly afraid of the Oldwood—I respected it. Before Mother’s accident, we would meet Alaric when he returned from the mines. We would wait outside the Eastern Gate, on the outskirts. Playing hide and seek in the trees and bushes had been one of my favorite ways to pass the time. I was young, but I know I scared Mother the last time we played.
“I’ll find you, Emberline,” she’d called around a tree.
I was tucked into a hollowed-out log fallen just off the path. She’d never find me here. I was sure of it.
Nestling into the dirt and brush felt … comfortable. I could stay here all day. Mother searched, and time passed. I burrowed in deeper. The fallen leaves and hard-packed soil were warm. I wanted to sink into them. I pressed the side of my face down, letting the feeling—the heat—surround me.
“Emberline.”
Someone whispered my name. The tone was opposite Mother’s screech as she continued her search.
“Emberline. Wake up.”
It was so comfortable here. The Oldwood was more freeing than Kavios. I wanted to climb onto it and let it fly me away from the trappings of the city. Maybe I had. A distantpart of my mind registered that Mother’s search became more frantic, that another familiar voice was added to it. That the sun’s light was quickly dwindling.
I didn’t want to leave yet. The Oldwood was important. It meant something to me.
“Emberline!”The voice was a roar in my head—fierce and fiery. The warmth of the ground now scorched my skin.
My eyes shot open. My head popped up from inside the hollowed-out tree in which I hid.
“Emberline.”
“Emberline.”
Mother’s voice blended with the ferocious tenor. I wasn’t sure that both had ever existed.
Something in the present pulled me from the memory: another time, another blending of two voices.
“Emberline.”
“Emberline.” Hart’s voice demanded my attention. The side of my face was pressed against a tree on the edge of the path to the Oldwood Mine. My glove removed, I’d knelt, rustling the leaves and soil to sink my fingers into it.
What was I doing? Had I heard the voice again?
“I guess this is why Alaric thought you required an escort.” Hart stood on the forest path. His fingers twitched around the handle of his sword—more than ready to pull the blade from its sheath once he identified the danger. “Everything alright?”
The danger might be only in my head.
That day, I remembered, was the last time Mother had brought me into the Oldwood. When Alaric found me that day, he said I’d been hiding in the woods for hours. Mother had been frantic. Father had been called. No one could find me. They almost went to the guards. That told you how desperate they were—asking the Blessed for help.
