Page 36 of The Ember and the Emerald

“And you still plan to sit here, inviting violence?” I whisper-yelled, swiping up my chicken and marching to Jasher, ready to shake sense into him.

Wink. “Consider it my gift to you.”

What did that mean? “I don’t want anyone else to die.”

“Then I’ll let them live. But you had better stand back. They have something we need for our new quest, and I’m going to get it.” A growl rumbled in his chest, making Cluck Cluck peck at me until I released her.

Off she ran, disappearing in the trees, wings tucked back.

Probably for the best, thanks to Jasher. I prayed she’d be smart enough to keep running. Be safe, my Cluck Cluck.

I glared at Jasher, blaming him for my newest loss. “Stay here if you insist.” Battleground for the win. I would mitigate the damage. Somehow. “But I’m hiding nearby.”

A plan brewing, I darted past him, entering the foliage behind his tree to conceal my presence from the interlopers.

“You’re going to miss the best parts of my performance,” Jasher called, his disappointment clear.

I dropped the backpack in the shadows and crouched. As quietly as possible, I tugged at the zipper. It moved as though it had never been stuck a day in its life. No resistance. Like it had decided I was finally worthy to look inside

I riffled through the contents, intending to confiscate whatever weapons I’d packed for myself. Surely a few daggers. Maybe a gun. Except…

You’ve got to be kidding! I’d packed a dozen or more fist-size black stones, the pointy black hat I’d worn during my first trip, and a small mechanical toy with movable limbs. It was shaped like a squat action figure, about the length of my hand, but wrong in a way I couldn’t immediately name. Half of him was made from dull tin, with exposed gears visible beneath a ribbed metal chest plate. The rest of him was cheap molded plastic.

“Hi, I’m Kevin, your unemotional support companion.” The toy’s mouth opened and closed with soft clicking sounds, tiny gears whirring behind a painted smile that never quite reached his monotone voice. “Press my buttons for a giggle.”

Scowling, I returned him to the pack and dug for anything else. Wait. A note. I withdrew it, hoping for some sort of explanation.

Kangaroos invade lava libraries. Mangoes adopt lost kittens; oceans moo. Ostriches rehearse. Donuts invent eclipses.

What in the—what? That was my handwriting and utter nonsense.

Never mind that past me had gotten an impossible message to current me. She’d left me with more questions and zero answers.

I crumbled the paper but dropped it back in the bag rather than toss it. And what even was that toy? Those stones? They reminded me of eggs.

The mystery shells maybe? Shells meant…eggs?

Or they could be a joke. A woman once filled Jasher’s pack with rocks to tease him about working harder. But no. I’d packed the bag. I would never sabotage myself. Not on purpose.

What if the stones were some kind of weapon? Or used to make serpens-rosa?

Why hadn’t I told myself what this stuff was? Lava libraries? Mooing oceans? Really? It was like I was trying to fail.

My ears pricked, and I forced my gaze forward. Watched through foliage as a line of soldiers pushed into the refuge, armor clinking, horses of various colors stamping a dirt path.

The soldiers moved like men with experience in the trenches: steady and practiced. Overcoming them wouldn’t be easy.

One of them caught sight of Jasher lounging against the oak, at ease with his wings folded in that careless arrogance, and froze. A panicked shout split the air.

“Monstra!”

The tempo of everything changed in a hurry. Horses reared in fright. Soldiers snapped to attention, their hands sliding to sword hilts, bows finding shoulders. The sudden crack of a bowstring trembled through my bones.

My hand flew to my mouth to smother a shout. The men didn’t strike, not yet, giving me a chance to take stock. Thin faces etched with shock were visible beneath dented helmets streaked with soot. Their breastplates were battered—and bore the royal crest. Part of the royal army?

Okay, so, forget the weapons I didn’t have and screw the element of surprise. New plan: get between Jasher and trouble and distract the soldiers, giving my Tinman a chance to flee. If he would.

He wouldn’t.