Page 1 of The Ember and the Emerald

1

THE UNDOING

“Are you all right?” a voice called from the distance. My mother’s, filled with concern. “Do you need help?”

My heart slammed into my throat. She stood thirty feet away, visibly pregnant—with me—and I wondered if running away was cowardice or the bravest thing I’d ever done. Either way, I couldn’t stay here.

I clutched my companion’s hand and dragged him through sunshine, across a bustling parking lot spider-webbed with cracks and weeds. The more distance from Mom, the better. No telling what damage I was doing to the space-time continuum thingie.

A sedan screeched to a halt, barely avoiding us.

“Sorry!” I called, picking up speed, never losing my hold on Jasher.

The driver stuck his hand out the window and flipped us off.

Jasher kept glancing back, eyes wide. “A metal wagon,” he said, accent thicker than usual. “No horses.”

“That’s a car. Maybe we can take one for a spin.” Without him, I’d be dead. A joyride didn’t compare, but it was a good start. “Now, let’s go faster on foot,” I instructed.

“A spin. Yes. I would like that. But what does this mean?” He extended his free arm in my direction, his middle finger raised.

I groaned. “It’s how people here say I’m having a terrible day and now I want you to have one too.”

He didn’t protest as I shoved us both between two red brick buildings and flattened myself against the wall, catching my breath. Thick shadows filled the space, seeming to stare at me.

I frowned. Lack of sleep and too much adrenaline, probably.

“Did she follow us?” I peeked around the corner. Beyond the alley’s mouth, storefronts advertised electronics, discount tires, and a breakfast special. The parking lot shimmered in August heat. Mom stood inside the chapel entrance, rubbing her temples, looking toward where we’d been.

My throat closed. She was so young. Younger than I’d remembered, or maybe I’d just never had the luxury of noticing. Her hair was bound in rollers, the way she used to curl it every Sunday. She pressed one hand to her belly—to me—and disappeared inside. The door shut behind her.

The last time I’d seen her alive, I was eight years old. I’d spent twenty years trying to remember everything about her, and now I’d just let her go.

“You avoid your mother?” Jasher asked, confused. He leaned against the wall across from me, arms folded. Dried blood dotted his white tunic and ripped black leathers. Two axes crossed behind his shoulders. Weapons that hadn’t been there a moment ago.

But how…why…?

“Princess,” he intoned, reminding me of his question. “Moriah.”

The mini-spiral ground to a halt. Strange things happened in Hakeldama, his home. Of course strange things happened anywhere he traveled. Even another world.

I launched into a fast back-and-forth pace. Cicadas shrieked from distant trees, and country music leaked from an auto shop bay. “I don’t want to avoid her, but it’s for the best. None of this makes sense. We’re in the wrong time, without ID, money, or transportation. My dead mother is alive and pregnant with me. Suddenly, you’re armed.” Disaster incoming, guaranteed.

Not the least bit surprised by the appearance of his weapons, he shrugged. “An executioner is never without his tools.”

“Former executioner. There’ll be no beheadings here. None. I cannot stress that enough.” A manic laugh escaped. “How did this happen? Why did we land in the past?”

Time travel doesn’t exist. The past was supposed to be untouchable. Then the storms found me. Tornadoes that tore through worlds. One carried me to a fantastical horrorland I never wanted to see again. The other dropped me back home in Kansas twenty years too early. Why? How?

“How are you so composed?” I demanded. “You’re in a whole new world, Jasher.” As if he hadn’t realized that.

He hauled me against his chest and clasped my cheeks. “I’ve been in worse predicaments, Moriah. Far worse.”

For balance, I flattened my palms over his distractingly well-defined pecs. His heartbeat was slow, certain, and reassuring. “I hate this,” I murmured.

“At least you aren’t alone.” Those eerie shadows veiled the upper half of his face, giving him a menacing edge anyone but me should fear. His grip tightened a fraction. “Now breathe with me.”

I obeyed and received an instant reward. The scent of sandalwood and orchids brought a calming wind strong enough to push out tension. “You’re very good at soothing others,” I said and nuzzled closer.