Page 7 of Jeweler to the Blessed
His mouth opened and closed twice, as if searching for words he couldn’t find. “I should go with you through the Oldwood, just in case.”
“You’ll be needed at the Selection Festival, Uncle. We discussed this.”
He nodded, his gaze distant, like he was deep in thought. “What if I could get someone else to escort you?”
“Someone you trust?” My mind immediately strayed to his visitor.
“Yes. Ember, it would make me feel better about this whole thing. Please.”
The trek through the Oldwood was the scariest part of my journey—more terrifying than leaving the only home I’d ever known. I had no reason to turn down the help. “Sure, Uncle. If you trust them, they can escort me through the Oldwood.”
We held each other’s gaze a beat longer than necessary. I hoped he understood everything I wasn’t saying:You’ve given me everything, and I am thankful. I’m not leaving you. I’m trying to protect us all.
Would I have said more if I’d known that was the last time I’d speak freely with Alaric—that our planned goodbye would never occur? The question would haunt my nightmares, even as nightmare and reality interwove, turning my world upside down.
3
Their magic is a bastardization. It wasn’t theirs to begin with, so they must take to sustain it.
— ALARIC SARE’S LETTERS TO ISABELLE ARKOVA
Lower Hill was more alive than I cared for, but this morning’s earthshake provided a distraction. Many had stopped to talk about the movement. As I quickly scanned the street, my gaze lingered on Forest’s Edge to the east. It was a bit distant but didn’t look like much from the outside. Dingy windows prevented passersby from seeing in. The large wooden door looked like it might prove heavy to open. Everything about the building seemed intent on turning away visitors, but I guessed that was its appeal.
Few wanted their vices paraded for all to see.
I took a deep breath, and the sweet scent of doknots hit mynose. The only part of the Selection Festival I enjoyed was fried dough covered with sugar and cinnamon. White banners were being hung from all the buildings in preparation for tomorrow.
With a final glance at the tavern, I slipped into the flow of people walking. I wouldn’t learn more about Alaric’s visitor by staring, and standing still only made me an easy target for the Blessed.
“Emberline! Wait up.” Jasmine, a friend from my apartment building, hurried down the street. Our friend Serena followed behind, looking tired and dazed. My pulse spiked as Jasmine’s long black hair swung with her enthusiasm to catch me. Having any emotions on display made me anxious on her behalf.
The Blessed out this early appeared occupied with festival preparations, but one was never sure when they would take.
Of course, the law required consent from the fed-upon party. It just rarely happened that way in Lower Hill. This area was so much the domain of the Blessed, it seemed any guards here looked the other way whenaccidentshappened.
The Blessed didn’t have a foolproof way to knowwhen someone was experiencing an emotion. Facial cues were often used. The tilt of Jasmine’s lips as she caught up told me she was excited, but the Blessed would see a smile and think happiness. They’d see tears and assume sadness. It was always best to keep your emotions from your face. Years of practice helped me mask mine. Sometimes, not even that mattered. Sometimes, they simply sampled—with a glide of their hand against exposed skin—hoping to collect the needed power. To a passerby, it could look as innocent as bumping into someone on the street, but we all knew better.
“What are you two doing here?” I asked as the girls fell into step with me.
Jasmine gestured to Serena. “I had to collect this one from Forest’s Edge.”
Serena’s smile was devious, but the dark circles beneath her eyes gave away her exhaustion.
Jasmine’s brown eyes danced with mischief. “I think you should give me a going away present.”
I wanted to laugh but held it in. “I’m the one leaving. Traditionally, you would gift me something for my journey.”
She waved me off. “I’m still not convinced you’ll do it. No one ever leaves Kavios. It’s not done.”
Her tone was playful, but it hinted at a truth I’d only suspected. Miners and traders were the only ones who left the city regularly. I didn’t know anyone else who had. It was partially why I planned to leave during tomorrow’s festival, when those selected were announced. I’d use the city-wide distraction to slip away unnoticed.
“Anyway,”—Jasmine innocently twisted a strand of hair around her finger—“I wanted to ask you if Matthew has been by the shop?”
A snort nearly escaped my lips. “You know I can’t tell you that.” I paused, tilting my head in thought. “Besides, would you really want to know if he had?”
Serena rolled her eyes. “Oh, she wants to know.”
Jasmine bounced again enthusiastically. The action accidentally disturbed the cream-colored sleeves of her dress, exposing her dark brown skin. Quickly, she pushed them back down. I wasn’t the only one who took precautions.
