Page 13 of The Ember and the Emerald

So far, I’ve found little about it. But I do recall the ancients whispering its name in my dreams long, long ago, with heroic tales about the man who discovered it. Our ancestor, King Morris Ori’Emet, used the Ember to stop the first rise of monstra and undo the myriad of wrongs perpetrated against our kingdom and its people. Then he made everything right again.

Morris was but a humble miner when he defeated the monstra. For his feats of strength and bravery, he was given the king’s daughter to wed. For the remainder of his life, he believed the monstra would come again. That we must be ready.

In the ensuing centuries, the monstra remained at bay and memories of their invasion faded. Legends became lullabies, the truth concealed in myth. Now, the darkness has indeed returned. Though I have scoured kingdoms and ruins for the Ember, I’ve not found it. Yet.

If you are reading this, I’ve given my life for my task. My only regret is leaving you and your mother.

I love you with all that I am.

I leave you with this request. Find the Ember. Then, and only then, can all be made right.

My heart forever goes with you.

Your father, King Ahav

My mind spun out. These were the first words my biological father had ever spoken to me, and I had thoughts. So, so, so many thoughts.

He loved me. After reading his words, I believed I might love him right back.

Save him? Absolutely.

But there were…inconsistencies to his story. The monstra were clones of Guardian Ian, and yet they had appeared hundreds of years before Ian’s birth. Impossible. Unless… One) Time travel. Or two) the original batch weren’t clones.

Ian could have remade them in his own image Jurassic Park style. Did he have the technology? The power?

How had this so-called sacred Ember of Everlight defeated the hordes?

Whatever the answer, I needed to find it. If it righted every wrong, I could use it to save my mother, the kingdom, and Ahav. To hopefully end this loop and spare Jasher’s life, while still neutralizing Ian. The two were mythically bound. When Ian died, his clones died with him.

Except, if I saved Ahav, Mom wouldn’t come to Kansas. She wouldn’t meet Daniel Shaker. I wouldn’t meet Daniel Shaker.

Punch. Breath exploded from my lungs.

Then a thought came, and I rode my roller coaster of emotions straight back to the top. I knew Daniel. That was what mattered. Our connection couldn’t be taken from me—only the version of me still growing in my mother’s belly. But even that could be remedied.

If—when—we all lived on, I could introduce Daniel and the younger Moriah. Weirder things had happened.

But how was I supposed to save a king?

And down the roller coaster I sailed. I was just a farm girl. A college dropout at that. Now I was supposedly a queen foretold, destined to save an entire world from a hostile takeover of winged monsters led by a ruthless madman. To fail meant condemning everyone I loved to death.

Hunting comfort, I looked to Jasher. Afternoon sunlight still glinted off the metal. The executioner still stood completely frozen.

Disappointment surged anew, but I told him, “The second you’re free, I need to feel your arms around me.”

The barn door opened, and Daddy entered. He’d changed into a faded shirt, the sleeves rolled to his forearms, and newish jeans tucked into cowboy boots. A black backpack I recognized hung at his side, stuffed to the brim.

My vision tunneled. In twenty years, Jasher would carry that bag while we ventured through Lawless Forest.

So we took it with us…and gave it to his younger self?

Dad’s expression broadcast familiar, unshakable resolve, and dread pricked me. Whatever he’d come to say, he was decided, and nothing would change his mind. There was no man more stubborn than Daniel Shaker.

“This is the pack Sandra mentioned,” he said, placing it at my feet.

“Thank you.” I closed the journal. “And I’m the one who gave it to her?” I asked. “What’s in it?”

“According to her, yes, you did. We’ve tried to open it, but we’ve been unsuccessful.”