Page 4 of Of Ash and Iron (Flame Cursed Fae #3)

Chapter 4

Maddy

W hen I enter Sarra's workshop, I'm relieved she isn't there. I am going to tell her everything that's happened—with the exclusion of any intimate details—but I'm so tired now that I wouldn't get the words right. Fatigue crashes through me, and I almost miss the note she left for me on the furs as I flop down onto them.

Merit didn't come back from the Oskorela , and there's a lot of whispering and chatter going through the thralls about the Valkyrie being angry about something. I'm hoping you haven't done anything stupid, but I'll be down early tomorrow.

My stomach twists. Merit… She was a strong rook. Is she dead? Or out there in the canopy somewhere? No doubt Staffan will have the story to tell at breakfast. I reread the last line. I did do something stupid, but there's no way the Valkyrie know I broke into the Gryphon's Nest, or they would be here right now.

Swallowing trepidation, I retrieve Freydis' mirror and settle on the furs with it.

I want to see her face so badly. I need to see that she's okay, that she's safe.

But the mirror remains lifeless.

I need to rid myself of the image in the wolf, though. I'll see her face in the gallery, in a memory I can stomach.

Maybe, if I revisit the memories of her since I came here, I can find something else in them that I missed the first time? Some sort of proof the sister who practically raised me wouldn't turn her back on me?

I know it seems desperate, but I'm willing to try. What do I have to lose?

A little reluctantly, I head to the gallery and visit the statue I made of the strength display. The last time I saw her.

"Hello, sister," she says to me, eyes empty, voice cold.

I try to remember any other time Freydis has spoken to anybody like that. I can't recall one. She has shouted at people, short, sharp, and regal. And she has threatened people, low and serious.

But I've never seen her like this.

I watch the memory, heart constricting as I reach for her hand, and she steps back and shakes her head. "We are here at the invitation of the Valkyrie to watch the strength display. You need not tell me what I am about to see for myself."

Is there something in that? Some hidden proof that she still cares? Maybe she can't touch me because her resolve to hate me will crumble?

Is hating me all she has, and now she's stuck at the palace alone, her dreams stolen from under her?

I blow out a long, pained sigh.

The image of the dagger sinking into her chest burns in my mind.

I still love her. I will always love her. I don't believe she doesn't love me. I can't.

The memory plays on.

"I believe my sister would make a magnificent Valkyrie," I say to Brynhild loudly, before looking at Freydis. "I think you should reconsider her for training here."

There is definitely a flicker of something in her eyes. And now I look again, I'm not sure it is a gratitude. It might be sadness.

"We are grateful for this invitation," she tells Brynhild formally, ignoring my statement.

I get one last blink from her before she follows my mother from the hall. I scan her face, her expression, her body language. But I see nothing.

Normally my churning thoughts would have kept my mind turning over all night, but the toll of the day is stronger, and I'm asleep almost the instant my head hits the pillows.

Sarra, true to her word, wakes me well before I'm ready to rise.

"I have coffee."

I roll over, blinking. An incomprehensible noise mumbles from my mouth.

"Please tell me you didn't do something stupid yesterday."

"Oh, I did. More than one thing, actually." I haul myself into a sitting position, and Sarra plonks down beside me on the furs.

"Oh gods. Is it you the Valkyrie are angry about?"

"No. I stole some information from the Gryphon's Nest and got into the vault. They definitely don't know about it."

Sarra's mouth drops open. "Maddy… how?"

"I had help," I admit, and reach for the coffee.

"Tell me everything."

I tell her almost everything. I admit the physical tension between Kain and me, because I can't stop my face flaming at parts of the story, but I don't tell her how I acted on it. It's too personal. And it doesn't only belong to me. There were very much two of us involved. I have to force my thoughts along, but by the time I tell her what I saw when the wolf statue melted, I'm no longer thinking about the pulsing heat between my legs.

Sarra is as confused as I am. It's not a memory, and I can't see the future, so it must be a manifestation of fear, is her agreed conclusion.

I give her a short version of my conversation with Thyrvi, again not feeling like all of the words are for sharing. But I push the point that I need to find a way to keep her in this world, rather than wherever she goes when she's not here.

"So, more training with Brynhild, then?"

"Yeah. But she says I have to concentrate on my val-tivar to call her. Thyrvi says she comes when she feels strong emotion from me. I don't think that's the same thing."

"Can you force yourself to feel strong emotion all the time, though?" Sarra looks doubtful. "That's not a great way to live."

She's right. It's not a long-term solution, even if it's sort of working now. With nothing helpful to offer, I change the subject. "So, what happened to Merit?"

"There are a bunch of rumors. I was hoping you'd find out today." She sets down her drink, and a tiny bit of the hot liquid sloshes over the side.

She gives a hiss of pain, and then her eyes flash with something, so fast I can't make it out. Green, perhaps?

"You okay?"

She looks at me and holds up her finger. "Burned myself. It'll be fine."

"Your eyes…"

She frowns. "My eyes? They weren't near the coffee."

"No, they did something."

She raises her brows slowly. " Did something?"

I stare at her a minute, recognition dawning. "Have you been working on Aldrich's staff again?"

She drops her eyes from mine, guilty as a child caught stealing.

"Sarra! You promised! There's something wrong with that thing. Honestly, if you'd seen yourself, your fingers all black, and now your eyes going weird—it's dangerous." The words tumble out, fear making them sharp.

She looks up again, and her expression is hard. "You're not one to lecture me about doing dangerous things. I have a connection to that staff, and if I can uncover its magic, I'm sure I can do something with it. Something important. Something new, even."

I swallow back my retort. It's absolutely true that I have no right to lecture her. And if the connection she feels to that staff is anything like the connection I feel to Thyrvi, or Kain, then giving her grief won't stop her pushing to find out more. Some pulls run deeper than reason.

"You think you can use the magic in it?" I ask quietly. No human can wield magic in Yggdrasil . If she could, this could be huge. It could change everything we think we know about the boundaries between human and fae.

"No, probably not. But there's something in there. Something connected to the Earth Court, to the magic I weave into the earth-fae staffs, but… more, somehow." Her hands move as she speaks, tracing patterns in the air like she's trying to grasp something just beyond her reach. "I don't know how to explain it in words—it's a feeling, a flow of something inside me. I have to know what it is, Maddy."

The intensity in her voice sends a chill down my spine. Not because I'm afraid of her, but because I recognize that hunger. It's the same desperation that drives me toward Kain despite my knowing better, that makes me want to unleash Thyrvi's full power regardless of the consequences.

"I don't want to stop you. Just make sure you only do it when I'm with you. Just in case." I reach out and squeeze her arm, feeling the slight tremor in her muscles.

She nods at me, but her eyes won't hold mine. I'm fairly sure she's going to do it anyway. But as she said, who am I to argue? I'm not exactly celebrated for my self-restraint.

"So, you want me to get the gossip at breakfast?" I say, letting go of her and forcing a cheerful smile onto my face.

"Yes." She seems relieved by the change of subject, but I notice her fingers still tracing patterns on her leg.

"I'm on it."

As I head out to face another day at Featherblade, I make a pact with myself. I will keep a close eye on Sarra and watch for anything worrying. Just as she hasn't been able to make me heed her warnings, she's still helped me by pointing out what might go wrong.

If you're going to play with fire, you need someone to watch for the moment it starts to burn out of control.

That used to be my sister for me, though the heat was never so fierce. The thought makes me think of the lifeless mirror, and sadness burns through me.

I force my thoughts back to Sarra. Freydis doesn't want to help me, but my friend does, and I'll support and protect her however I can. I can't stop her, but if she's right, I shouldn't try.

Some boundaries are meant to be broken, and I'll be there if she breaks anything else trying.