Page 26 of A Heart of Crimson Flames
I paged through the linen-bound tome in my hands, searching for music notes or words like “song” or “magic.” My eyes snagged on a word and my flipping paused.
“Please for the love of all the Gods, tell me you found something of note.”
I chuckled, glancing at Asha sideways. “I think you’re spending too much time with me, tiny one,” I teased. “Give it another week and you’ll be throwing daggers just like me.”
“If you teach me how,” she said, intrigued.
“Deal.”
She leaned over to look at the book. I tapped on the Valtan word for “power.” “Fire magic,” I read, scanning through the lines of scrawling text again. “What is fire magic?”
Asha studied the page for a second before she shrugged. “There are some old Rikeshi songs that talk about fire wielders,” she said. “There’s a song called ‘Afa Adauri’—the healing flame.”
“That’s just a love song.”
She eyed me sideways. “All this time with us and you still think it’s just a song.” She let out a derisive exhalation. “Such a Wolf way of thinking.”
I wanted to tease her with my bared teeth but that would only further prove her point. I wasmostlyused to the jibes by now.They would never let me forget for long that I was the only Wolf amongst them.
“How does one wield fire?” I asked, grateful for the reprieve in our hunt for information.
“All types of magic are formed from others, like a transference of power, one morphing into another over time.” She stretched her neck from side to side. “I suppose it’s an old kind of magic that has since disappeared.”
“Disappeared?” My brain was muddled from so many hours of staring at nonsensical words on faded pages. “But where did it originate?”
“All magic is born out of need,” she said. “Out of desperation. Dying wishes, songs, even the Wolves. Something was needed so badly it was created.”
“I desperately need a drink right now,” I muttered. “And yet one doesn’t magically appear in my hand.”
“I think the Gods might debate the merit of that request.” Her chuckle was so high-pitched, she sounded half mouse, half fairy. “I imagine there will be many more types of magic in the future, just as many current ones will disappear.”
“Like the Wolves,” I said, rubbing my tired eyes. “There’re so few of us left.”
“Us, too,” Asha added. “The Songkeeper magic was almost lost in the annals of time. And that was before your king started killing us off.”
“Nero is not my king,” I corrected. “I am a member of the Golden Court.”
It was a strained sentiment, one I wished I felt more confident in. Calla was my Queen, of that I was certain, but Olmdere? I remembered idling there as the Queen’s guard, bored out of my wits, before I was whisked away on an adventure with Navin. I didn’t think I could return to that humdrum life, but to travel in Galen den’ Mora forever? Crammed into a wagon with an ever-changing rotation of musical strangers? I didn’t know if I could stomach that, either.
So what, then? Where did I belong?
I was saved from dwelling on that unanswerable question by a shout and then a mild cheer coming from down the stacks.
“You found it?” Asha called, dropping the book in her hands and running down the long row of old tomes.
Navin appeared, scroll held aloft in triumph. “We found it!”
I returned the book in my hands, swinging my arms back and forth to stretch the tight muscles between my shoulder blades. “Time for a celebratory drink, then?” I asked hopefully.
“Aye,” Timon agreed, giving me a wink.
“One,” Navin cut in, holding up a long finger. Kian tried to pluck the scroll from Navin’s hand and Navin swatted his brother away. “We’ll need our wits about us for what comes next.”
“What comes next?” Asha asked.
Navin’s smile widened. “Now it’s time to find some monsters to test them on.”
Asha took an instinctive step into me, and I slung my arm around her shoulder. “Perfect time to learn to wield a dagger.”
