Page 114 of Embrace the Serpent

She glared at me, and I braced—there was a sword in her hand, she was definitely going to hit me—but slowly, she cracked a tiny smile. “A very long time.” She hesitated, then said, “You’re the only one who remembers me from back then, who knows who I was.”

“It’s the same for me.” We weren’t friends, but we were witness to each other’s childhoods. Keepers of each other’s memories.

We made it out into the sunshine, past another few guards—Mirandel pulled me behind her and deflected a blow. She thwacked a guard on the side of the head, and their helmet rang like a bell—and we ran, leaving a trail of sleeping people in our wake.

Mirandel laughed, giddy with having the lamp in our hands. She turned to me. “You’re truly doing all this for the Serpent King?”

I raised a brow back at her. “You’re doing this for Lady Incarnadine?”

“I’m loyal.”

I shrugged. “I’m in love.”

She rubbed her nose. “No one says that out loud.”

We made it to Incarnadine’s tent, and Mirandel held the flap open for me. She slipped in behind me and told Incarnadine of our success, but my focus was on the lamp.

I knelt by a light and tinkered with it. The little brass lid popped off, and heat caressed my skin. A flame flickered inside, sultry, smokeless. The flames did not move with the wind but seemed to dance in a pattern of their own making. It was a heart that suited Incarnadine.

Inset inside the body of the lamp, studded into the gold and brass, were several jewels arranged in a geometric design. This was what trapped her, what bound her to the lamp and to whoever possessed it.

She wouldn’t be free until it was undone.

In an odd way, itwassimilar to the jewelsmithing that made Grimney. Grimney’s was a series of stones that felt to me like they told the story of who he was. A design of creation, of holding him together, one that he was free to alter. This was a series of stones that said,Thisbeing’s free will belongs to—a ruby? No. A glass piece, made of blood. The Emperor’s blood.

I met Grimney’s gaze, and a jolt of inspiration zipped down my spine.

I didn’t have to destroy it.

If I replaced that stone, I could alter the lamp into an amulet that would protect Incarnadine from ever being trapped in the same way. I dug through my bag and brought out the tools I needed.

I got to work, letting jewelsmithing cast a trance over me. There was no fear in me; I knew I could do this. Rane had given me the giftof being able to see myself though his eyes, and that had changed me. They could take Rane from me, but they couldn’t take that.

Mirandel came to my side, saying something about time and people waking up, but her words faded into a distant murmur.

As I reworked Darvald’s design, I imagined the ghost of him watching over me. Maybe the man he had become in his old age, the one who had built the border enchantments to protect the divine peoples from his legacy, would approve of what I did.

One last twist, and it was done.

Incarnadine inhaled sharply. All the air in the tent drew toward her, and then she exhaled and grew. The air trembled around her, and a gust of desert wind shook the tent, tearing the cords and sending the roof flapping. The sunlight fell on her, dividing her into light and shadow.

Her face was shadow but for the pinpricks of fire in her eyes.

She drew me into her arms and kissed me, and it felt like sticking my head in a furnace. The peach fuzz on my face might have melted away, and I could only hope I still had my eyebrows.

“Will you keep your word?” I asked.

She beckoned, and Mirandel brought her a beautifully engraved lead-lined box. With one gold-tipped finger, Incarnadine unlatched the box and lifted the lid.

The heartstone gleamed from a bed of velvet. I clutched it to my chest, feeling the sweet warmth of it wash over me. Rane’s curiosity, his protectiveness, his joy.

I met Incarnadine’s gaze, and understanding passed between us.

As I left, I heard Mirandel ask, “My lady, what now?”

Incarnadine answered in a voice that crackled like woodfire, “You are free. As am I.”

I glanced back, as Incarnadine rose into the air. Mirandel seemed small and forlorn.