Page 39 of The Ember and the Emerald

A spy. Rainbow birds reported to Ian. The monstra—Jasher—understood their chirps too. But speak up? No. Our guards were jittery enough. They might use the bird as an excuse to attack Jasher. Also, I wasn’t at my best. My wound throbbed. I was operating on empty and soon to face my parents. But use my serpens-rosa? No. This wasn’t life or death.

“Why did the monstra do this?” I motioned to the wasteland. Before, they’d left the forest alone. “What does the poem mean?”

Captain Rourke frowned at me, all where have you been?

“Living in the future,” I reminded him.

Hope reignited, a light shining across his features. “The poem is, we think, some kind of code. It’s painted in numerous places.”

The note I’d written myself. Kangaroos blah, blah, blah. Could it be some kind of code, too?

“Upon erupting from the mountains, the hordes—” he continued.

Curses rose among the others, many men glowering at Jasher, as if he’d been there.

The winged executioner kept pace at my side, unbothered by the accusations.

“—came in a storm, unleashing destruction before seeming to vanish into thin air,” Captain Rourke continued. “Anytime we rebuild, they reappear en masse. Small groups resurface periodically to remind us of their presence. Mostly when it rains, sometimes when it doesn’t.” He paused, as if measuring his next words. “If you tell us how to destroy them, we can save the kingdom.”

“I’ll speak of what I saw only to the king.” Safer that way. No telling who secretly aligned with Ian.

The captain opened his mouth, perhaps to protest or press, but thunder boomed. Tension intensified throughout the group. A storm brewed.

Were the monstra soon to attack?

Captain Rourke opened his mouth again, but Jasher’s axes reappeared on his back. Everyone noticed. Protests rang out.

“Do not do this again, Oracle.” The captain confiscated the blades—and Jasher let him.

“Me?” I sputtered. “I did nothing!”

We continued on, the storm building, tensions still amplifying. Even within me. I wasn’t battle-ready.

“Are the monstra coming?” I asked Jasher at low volume. “Will you morph further or turn to metal?”

Another crack of thunder. Lightning split the sky. The soldiers prepared their blades.

Jasher kept his focus straight ahead. “We’ll find out together about the metal. But the monstra aren’t a threat right now. It’s the lions and flying monkeys you should fear.”

Ugh. I remembered them. I’d never seen the creatures in action, and I didn’t want to. The lions were the size of housecats, and the monkeys were comparable to Tinkerbell, but they had inspired dread in all Hakeldamians.

Finally, the storm broke, pelting us with showers of icy rain. Our group sped up, racing across fields.

My teeth should’ve chattered, but the wet chill didn’t bother me. I actually loved the droplets. Loved how they tapped against my skin, quickly absorbing.

Jasher wasn’t so adaptable. He scowled as droplets slapped at his cheeks.

I dug my pointy black hat from the pack and planted it on his head. The rim protected his face and shoulders.

He didn’t glance my way. “You should tend to yourself, princess.”

“Hi, I’m Kevin, your unemotional support companion.” The toy’s muffled, monotone voice beat me to a response. “Press my buttons for a giggle.”

Groaning, I lifted the little horror from the confines of the bag. Raindrops splashed over it. Was his smile more unhinged? “Why would I give this to myself? He doesn’t even have buttons.”

“I’m proud of you. And that surprises me,” Kevin announced, still monotone. “Ha ha ha. Ha ha ha. Kevin made a funny.”

Jasher snickered, the storm forgotten. “Kevin is a treasure, that’s why.”