Page 71 of The Ember and the Emerald

“Exactly.” Step by step, he walked backward. “Remember my promise. If you aren’t careful, our separation won’t last long.”

My insides lurched.

“This is my favorite part,” Kevin said from his pocket.

“The note of nonsense,” Jasher added, snapping now. His words didn’t flow easily, but they did flow, as if he’d overcome whatever force held them in. “You didn’t send it to yourself…but to me. You trusted me to help you. It’s a code the monstra use. Look at the first letter of each word.” Then Jasher pivoted on his heels.

Just like that, he vanished in the foliage, the space he left behind louder than his presence had ever been. I stood rooted, shaking, ragged. He’d really done it. He’d chosen Ian, a vicious killer. He’d left.

But he’d also helped me. Kangaroos invade lava libraries. Mangoes adopt lost kittens; oceans moo. Ostriches rehearse. Donuts invent eclipses.

KILL MALKOM OR DIE.

Malkom, the enemy Elowen had mentioned. The one who ran with Sin.

Once, Jasher had compared the note to the poem we’d read in the forest. Foxes in need dream. Hills eat rain.

FIND HER.

Her, meaning me? Tears I refused to shed burned my eyes.

“I’m sorry, Oracle. For your sake, I’d hoped your Tinman would be different than Ian.”

The king’s voice startled me from my brewing spiral, and I spun. He stood in a beam of moonlight, leaning a shoulder against a tree trunk, both at ease and on guard.

I shoved the messages to the back of my mind and squared my shoulders. “So did I.” So Jasher had left me. It hurt. It hurt bad, but I would heal. I always did. Never mind that things were breaking inside me. Right now, I had a mission.

Nothing I could do about this Malkom guy. But Ian? He was going down.

“Tinman is your responsibility,” Ahav said. “Any damage he causes will be laid at your door. You will bear the consequences.”

Unfair. “His actions are his, mine are mine, and yours are yours.”

“Yes, and you let him go. What he does now is on you.” He dropped his chin, gaze pinned on me. “Did anyone tell you it’s dangerous to argue with a king?”

My shoulders rolled in. Sighing, he plucked a leaf from a tree and strode over.

Side by side, we looked out at the water, a momentary reprieve from heartbreak.

“The vision you had yesterday,” he said. “You called Ian evil. Explain what you saw. Please.”

Very well. “Perhaps it was the same attack I saw today. A village burned with monstra fire, as people ran screaming. Then the scene morphed, and Ian laughed. He held a large, glowing emerald. Then he stabbed me.” The sensation of being cut followed my words, and I winced. To ground myself in reality, I removed my boots and socks and sat, easing my feet into the cool flow of water. Yes, much better.

“So now we hunt an Ember, who is a woman, as well as an emerald that glows?” He sat beside me, though he kept his boots on and away from the river.

“Maybe the emerald contains the Ember’s power.” By fair means or foul.

“That would mean her power is transferable.” He massaged his nape. “An interesting concept.”

Yes. I had an idea. “What if the emerald is marked to her—or Ian—and hides itself from everyone else? Like my journal always hides from you.”

“Marked?” His brows drew together. “Oh, you mean galemarked.”

I hadn’t, but now I wondered. “Explain the difference.”

“Galemarking,” he said slowly, “binds an object so completely, it can never truly leave its owner. Despite distance. Despite time.”

“Okay, yes, I meant galemarked. Ian has or will have the emerald. We find him, we should find the Ember.”