Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Unwilling to let this moment end just yet, I probed deeper. “Anything else you can tell me will only help our quest. Details about your time before Ahav. Memories of Ian, his father, the renovation of the catacombs. Tidbits about the Ember, King Morris, or Andrea.”
Her nose crinkled. “I’ve tried to remember my life before Ahav. Nothing has helped. He believes I come from the otherworld, and maybe I do. But I’m a citizen of Hakeldama now. I told you everything I know about Ian. His father and the renovation unearthed only a handful of murals Ahav’s father destroyed. Talk of the Ember, King Morris, and Andrea has always made me uneasy, so we do not discuss them often.”
A new question to add to my growing list. Why had my grandfather destroyed the murals?
“Just…promise me you’ll guard my Ahav,” she beseeched. “Besides my baby, he’s all I have. My only family.”
Pangs threatened to rip me in two. “I promise, I’ll do everything in my power to keep him safe.” I hoped the truth of my words gave her comfort. Honestly, I would die before I allowed harm to come to him, and thereby my mother.
“Thank you.” She squeezed my hands. “He’s precious to me.” Love glowed in her eyes when she smiled and rasped, “I cannot lose him as I lost—” She frowned, shook her head. “Someone. Who?”
Was she starting to remember?
Before she could stop me, I hugged her, clinging to the mother I loved and missed.
She’d told me the last time we were together, I’d confessed the king would die if we failed to find the Ember. This time, I swallowed the warning. Nothing would stop me from finding it, so, there was no reason to worry her.
Instead I simply whispered, “Be well, Sandrine.”
After a short hesitation, she hugged me back. Clinging as if she knew who I was, deep inside. “You, too, Oracle.”
When I could stand the emotion of it all no longer, I fled into my room. Maybe nothing had changed. Maybe everything had. But I had a purpose now, my goal clearer than ever. Fix everything or die trying.
19
GIVE ME BRAINS
Jasher, alive and well—check.
Kevin—lying down, as if resting.
The rocks—some in pieces.
The journal—in the executioner’s hands, open as he read, and oh, my stars, had I ever encountered a sexier sight? The beautiful monster-man leaned against the wall, in his usual position: one leg extended, the other bent at the knee. He was completely absorbed as he used a claw to gently turn a page.
“Tinman,” I whispered, not wishing to startle him.
He glanced up, a brief flash of relief shining across his face. “We both survived the day.” Perusing me from top to bottom with mounting heat, he flicked the tip of his tongue against an incisor. “No bruises, no Ring. Did Ian gloat when you recanted?”
The searing visual caress kindled a fresh outbreak of goosebumps. His specialty. “Ian abandoned ship. And Ahav has agreed to keep him alive. But, um, how did you get the journal?” I followed the link of chain that secured him to the wall. Not broken, and not enough slack to let him roam through the room and find the tome, wherever it had decided to store itself.
He shrugged. “It appeared to me. I took advantage.”
So the journal was no longer following just me; it was choosing when and to whom it revealed itself. That felt deliberate. And dangerous. But why him and not Ahav, the one who’d written it? Unless it was “marked” to Jasher, like his blades?
“And the stones?” I waved to the rock crumbles.
“An experiment.” He closed the book with a snap. “I thought they might have a treasure inside. They don’t. But this is a surprisingly decent read. The beginning is a little slow. Family history blah, blah, blah. The middle picks up the pace, with battles and swordfights driving us toward the shocking conclusion that the Ember is a woman.”
My brows furrowed. “What makes you so sure?” I mean, I’d wondered but had found no proof.
His brows furrowed, too. “You wrote it.”
“No, I didn’t.”
Motions still gentle, he opened the cover, flipped to a specific page near the end and extended the book in my direction. I accepted and scanned the text, reeling. Sure enough. Scribbled in the margins of my notes were those exact words.
Stop missing the obvious. Andrea doesn’t just carry the Ember. She is the Ember.
Breath rushed in, unsteady and loud. Yep. My handwriting. The certainty of the note rocked my universe. No question mark. No waffling.
“I don’t remember when or how I concretely realized this,” I admitted. Didn’t know if I was the one who’d written it or a past Moriah was responsible.
“It says she is the Ember. But maybe it should say was. What if you are the Ember now?” Jasher asked with the same inflection he might use to inquire about a cranberry orange muffin for breakfast.