Page 56 of Embers of Ruin

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By the time we climb back toward the palace after a long day of wandering the city, night has settled over Andell. Floating lanterns bob gently through the air, bathing the black stone of the palace in warm golden light.

My feet ache. My head aches. My thoughts are tangled so badly I am tempted to blame it on the sugar from the honey cake, though that feels unfair to the honey cake.

The palace gates open before Onyx says a word. I pause beneath the archway and look back at Andell one last time. The city glows below, lanterns flickering to life one by one.

Onyx stops beside me, searching my eyes. Whatever he finds there makes his brows draw together.

“You’re angry,” he says. “Your face is remarkably expressive, Lyra.”

“Yes, Captain Obvious. I’m a little upset.”

“With me? I thought you had a nice time today. At least… I had hoped you would.”

“I did! No, Onyx, I’m not angry with you. Never you.”

His brows furrow. “Ah, I see. The king?”

“Always. I am always angry with him. But this time it’s not exactly him. Well—in a way, yes, it is him.”

Onyx looks genuinely confused, looking back at the city before his eyes find mine.

“It’s the city, isn’t it?”

He always has a way of knowing what’s going on in my head. It annoys me to no end, but it’s nice to know that I don’t have to spell out every thought I am having. He reads me well. That’s what makes our friendship—if we’re calling it that—so genuine. He actually cares.

I look down at the streets, at the bridges, at the tiny moving shapes of people going home for the evening.

“Yes,” I say quietly. “That’s the problem.”

Onyx says nothing.

We walk the remaining distance in silence until we reach the corridor outside my chamber. Riven quietly peels away, leaving us alone beneath the blue glow of the wall sconces.

I turn before Onyx can leave.

“What happens to magical people in Andell? Why aren’t they killed?”

His expression hardens. “Lyra.”

“If you tell me later, I may actually scream.”

A faint smile pulls at his mouth before disappearing. He looks tired. Not physically. Physically he looks… amazing. His exhaustion comes from something deeper. Something I have seen on Thorin too, though I hate that I recognize the similarity.

“I cannot answer that without telling you things that are not mine to tell.”

“Then tell me something that is yours to tell. Do you know how it feels to know nothing, every minute of every day?”

His gaze holds mine and for a moment, I think he will retreat behind silence again.

Then he says, “Not everyone taken by the Shadow Guard dies.”

The words strike so hard that I forget to breathe and my mouth hangs open. Gods. What did he just say to me? I stare at him, blinking rapidly. Maybe I heard him wrong. I had to have heard him wrong. Because if I heard him right, it would dismantle everything I thought I knew about the Shadow King. And I reject that.

He looks away first, turning to walk away. “Goodnight, Lyra.”

I step in front of him before he can take another step. “No, Onyx. For once, someone in this godsdamned palace needs to tell me something!” I can feel the desperation creeping into my expression before I can hide it.