Page 112 of The Ember and the Emerald

I flew over him and verified the emerald tattoo. Real. This was real.

He grinned, and I moved. We clashed. He fought. Of course he did. His hands found my armor, my wings, anything to grip to try and slow me. I sensed the desperation in his strikes, the first honest thing I’d ever felt from him. He just wasn’t strong enough.

In the end, I cleaved his head from his body. The sound it made was not the thunderclap I’d imagined across hundreds of deaths. It was quiet. Final. Like a door closing. But that door didn’t latch. And I just felt…empty.

That made no sense. I’d done it. I’d killed Ian. So why wasn’t I bubbling over with my victory?

The quiet stretched. I hovered there, above what remained of him, waiting to feel something enormous. Triumph. Release. The lifting of a yoke I’d worn for longer than I could name.

What came instead was simpler. A small whisper. You’re not done yet.

I didn’t understand. As my wings faded, I slowly lowered to the ground. And there was Jasher. He landed beside me, unharmed.

“You didn’t kill me with the others,” he said, as stunned as I was.

“This makes no sense,” I muttered. “Ian is dead, the tie broken. But you’re alive.”

“Maybe the tie…isn’t broken? I still feel him.” He rubbed his chest and frowned. “I still feel others, too.”

I gnashed my molars. Had I killed another decoy? Just a better one?

The royal chickens pecked at the remains, with my Cluck Cluck among them. I’d deal with the Ian and Jasher surprises later. Now, I headed for the spot my father had fallen.

Cluck Cluck might have smiled as I passed her. “Bwok, bwok.”

I thought I translated it: Soon, soon.

There was more to her than I’d realized. Definitely. Another puzzle for later.

A jewel gleamed from Ahav’s ashes. Heart thudding, I bent down to discover what it was. My mother’s ring. The one I’d worn on my inaugural journey.

Tears wanted to well, but they never formed. Maybe they couldn’t. I closed my fingers around the jewelry. “Just one more thing I don’t understand,” I croaked to Ahav, though he couldn’t hear me. Not anymore.

Jasher approached my side, regret etched into every line of his face. “Ahav wanted you to know,” he began softly. “The ring is his emblem, and with it, you will never be without his protection.”

Not good enough. “I was supposed to save him.” My hands trembled as I slid the ring over my finger. “I failed.” Failed him, failed the kingdom itself. Failed my mother. My sister. Everyone.

“You didn’t. You gave him what he’s wanted for you all along. A future without the monstra,” he said fiercely. “I will help give that to you, Moriah.”

“We’ll see,” I said. Though I admit, I was glad I hadn’t harmed him, even in my rage. But trust him? No.

A little prickle against my nape. Hmm. What was that?

The prickle continued, growing stronger. I frowned and straightened. Jasher must have sensed it, too. He reacted in the same manner. We looked around and pressed back to back, preparing for another fight.

No monstra in sight. No Malkom or Sin, either. Hmm. What⁠—

The air split, a shaft of inky darkness cleaving the battlefield in two. A jagged seam ripped open reality itself, a massive shadow hand reaching through to snatch Jasher.

He flew backward.

“No!” I reached for him as a second shadowy hand shot out, grabbing me. The world folded inward, color draining until darkness swallowed me whole…

A shrill alarm dragged me screaming back into existence. My eyes flew open, and I frowned. White. Too white.

The ceiling glared down at me, lights buzzing, flickering, stuttering. The air reeked of antiseptic and metal, sharp enough to burn my lungs. A monitor beeped beside me—fast, frantic, wrong.

I tried to move, but leather bit into my wrists. Shackles and a wrist tag with the number 1000 stitched in green thread. Panic detonated in my chest, and I thrashed. The weight of my water wings, the echo of power along my spine—gone. I wore only a paper gown, thin as a lie, my skin exposed, stripped, and cold.