Page 4 of Embers of Ruin

Exhaustion crashes into me the moment the healing ends. My knees buckle and a wave of dizziness washes over me. I steady myself against the edge of the cot and slowly stand, drawing in a deep breath. Healing the boy required more magic than I should have spent, and my body is protesting.

“The boy will live, and that’s what matters.” I pause, swaying against the sudden fatigue. “And the gods’ blessing…” my gaze drops to my trembling hands before lifting back to Mara. “It feels more like a curse when it has to be hidden.”

Before Mara can answer, a crash sounds outside causing the cottage to shutter. Shouts follow and my heart stops.

Mara turns toward the window, her face draining of color. I move before she can stop me, crossing the room and pulling the curtain back just enough to peer outside. I see men clad in silver armor dismounting their horses. I quickly drop the curtains and turn to face Mara.

“It’s them.” I’m sure my face mirrors the same horror etched on hers. For a heartbeat the blood roars in my ears.

Then Mara whispers the words I already know. “The king’s guards.”

My heart beats rapidly as my fight-or-flight instinct kicks in. I know that armor—everyone in Solaris knows that armor. Worse, I know who usually travels with the king's guards. Acolytes—the king's hunters. They hide among soldiers and travelers alike, quiet as shadows, ordinary as any other face in a crowd. But I’ve heard the stories, like every child in Solaris has.

They can sense magic.

A cold knot twists in my stomach. If an Acolyte is with them, it won't take long for them to find me.

My pulse pounds in my throat. “They couldn’t have felt it,” I whisper. “They weren’t close enough.”

Mara grabs my satchel from the floor and shoves it into my hands. “No, of course not, someone saw you come. Someone knew you would be here, Lyra.”

I shake my head, refusing to believe the truth. “No… Mara, no one knows why I’m here.”

But even as I say it, I know that is not true. People always know more than they should. They know that when I visit the homes of the sick, the people inside are often well by morning. They know Mara sends for me when her own remedies fail. Perhaps one of them has finally decided that my life is worth less than a pouch of silver.

“The guards don’t have to know for sure,” she cuts in sharply. “Suspicion is enough to warrant a visit from them. You have to go, and keep your magic hidden!”

Another shout rises outside, closer this time, and Mara grips my shoulders. “Go. Now! I’ll send word when the village is clear of them.”

“What about you? If they do know, you know the penalty for harboring⁠—”

She holds a hand up, effectively cutting me off. “I am an old woman with herbs and a dying patient who is no longer dying.” She gives me a stern look as she nods firmly. “We both know you are the one they came for. We knew this day might come, Lyra. But you are not here, and you have not been here for quite some time.” She gives me a knowing look, and we both understand what it means. Mara is going to lie to protect me, and if anyone ever discovers that she lied—the penalty will be death.

The boy stirs on the cot as his small face scrunches in confusion. “Who came?”

“No one,” I say gently, but my voice is shaking. “Rest.”

Mara pulls me into a fierce embrace. She smells of lavender, smoke, and the bitter herbs she keeps tucked in every pocket. I let myself lean into her for a few seconds before she releases me, inhaling her scent to commit to memory. There’s a strong possibility that it will be awhile before I’m able to see her again, and I want to remember the warmth of the woman who took me in and raised me after my parents died.

“Back door,” she whispers. “You have spent your whole life saving everyone else, Lyra.” Her voice cracks, and my heart aches watching tears fall down her cheeks. “Now let someone save you.”

My throat tightens as my vision blurs. “I’ll come back for you.”

“I know you will.” She presses a light kiss to my forehead before stepping back, gesturing to the door.

I nod, moving urgently to make my escape. I wouldn’t be surprised if one of the spiteful villagers sold me out to the guards, but I thought they would find my gifts valuable enough to keep their mouths sealed as a favor for healing their loved ones when they’re sick. Clearly, I’m wrong and should burn the entire village to ash. But I won’t, because I have made an oath to myself to do no harm with my magic unless my life depends on it.

I make my exit, fighting back the emotion threatening to drag me under as I leave my childhood home. The worst part? I don’t know if I’ll ever see it or Mara again.

CHAPTER 2

Frigid air hits me like a solid wall as I quicken my pace. I need to find somewhere safe before I’m caught by the guards and taken to King Thorin. Going home would be too obvious if someone has given up my residence, and I don’t know anyone besides Mara who would offer me shelter. It’s a shame, considering I’m the village healer, but when I need aid the most I know no one will offer it.

Gods, I want to stop. I want to stop running. I want to stop hiding. I want to stop pretending more than anything. I shove the thoughts aside. I need to be faster. Gods, Mara taught me better than this. She taught me how to be strong. How to use a blade and heal in equal measure. How to move quietly, hide my magic, and survive without being seen. Now, more than ever, I need to remember everything she taught me.

I shudder, knowing there’s a possibility I might have to sleep outside instead of returning to the warmth of my cottage. I also know the punishment for using magic would be unbearable if I were captured, and I have no intention of becoming a prisoner of the Shadow King.

I would rather die.