Page 21 of The Spark that Ignites (Shattered Soul #1)

T he weathered sign reading Bellamere , held up by a few loose nails and a kickstand that had seen better days, marked a town surrounded by lush farmland and countless rows of homes. Yet, despite its size, it held a cozy, close-knit feel, swelling warmth through Emmery’s chest.

Dozens of workers tended the fields, their bronze vestiges pulsing as they magically grew assorted vegetation.

Blades in hand, their wounds dribbling blood onto the soil, and plants erupted to consume their offering.

Workers with ice-blue vestiges levitated water and sprinkled it over the newly emerged greenery, seamlessly working in tandem.

Emmery gawked over her shoulder as Juno carried her into town. She’d never seen anything like it.

Vesper swung his leg and slid from Balthasar’s back, his cloak billowing behind him as he landed gracefully. After tapping the cuff, Balthasar’s body merely ... Emmery didn’t know how else to describe it—the horse evaporated into thin air.

Her eyes widened and Vesper winked, strutting over to her.

Would she ever get used to the casual use of magic? How long would she be captured by this wonder? A small part of her never wanted to lose it and trade it for familiarity.

Emmery tapped her cuff three times and Juno’s body did the same, hiding away, returning wherever it had appeared from. Emmery studied the cuff in bewilderment. What else could be enchanted like this? There were surely laws against these things. Limitations.

With a soft groan, Emmery braced her hands on her hips and stretched her aching back.

Luckily, the ride with Juno wasn’t entirely unpleasant other than the steed’s obvious size, and they’d found a mutual rhythm, though Emmery’s thighs chafed and her muscles smarted. A good stretch and walk would help.

Aera shimmied down her body to walk alongside while Emmery’s attention darted everywhere.

There was too much to see. Too much to take in.

The village market, similar to those in the human lands, had stands full of trinkets, vibrant clothing, dangerous weapons, and luxurious fabrics. They avoided those and stuffed their packs full of produce.

Vesper conversed wordlessly with the young woman at the stand, sharing a series of hand gestures Emmery didn't recognize. All she could decipher was the woman’s refusal of payment, mostly by the vigorous shake of her head.

When Vesper happily leaned across the counter, answering the woman’s pink lipped smiles with far too much eye contact and hand brushing, Emmery rolled her eyes and wandered off. Poor girl.

Aera toddled alongside, wings tucked tight and pointed ears swivelling.

Occasionally, she squinted up at Emmery and gave a toothy grin.

Emmery assumed she would be able to find a stand with medical supplies, but as she glanced around, she had no such luck.

She had passed a healer’s quarters, but people were lined up out the door, mostly parents with sickly children.

It was a heartbreaking sight, and Emmery didn’t bother to wait, figuring their attention was priority. She would tend to Aera’s wing herself.

The quaint houses, like most other towns, were built of stone or wooden planks reminiscent of her cottage.

Simple. Small. Perfect. Multi-coloured flowers lined the front yards, butting the dirt road.

Perhaps she could settle here after everything and start her life.

But would Maela be safe here? Would Emmery even survive today? There were too many unknowns.

Drawing herself from that far away dream, Emmery’s mouth grew parched as tall bottles of liquor caught her eye, calling with their siren song. A slender man with a hooked nose drummed his fingers on the stand, watching her sceptically as she fished a coin from her pouch.

“We don’t take that,” he said, eyeing the silver. “But we could trade. A bottle for that pretty watch?” He gave a grin of yellowed teeth.

Of course they didn’t take silver. Cursing softly, Emmery’s fingers wrapped possessively around the chain. Her stomach clenched at the idea of parting with it. “No, thank you.”

The man countered but she hurried away and told herself she didn’t need the drink.

While she politely greeted some stand owners, Emmery mostly kept to herself, but her eyes wandered to the visible scars. She couldn’t help it. Seeing them exposed with such pride was surreal after all her time hiding.

Those with pink scars only had either a cavae or a zvezda .

Not a single person she spotted had both, like her and Vesper, other than those with dark scars—somewhere between black and maroon.

The children all had both, their black marks stirring an uneasy feeling in Emmery’s belly.

None of those with the dark scars had a vestige either, though they were all young.

Disappointment twisted her gut as she searched but found no one like her.

The Fallen, proudly displaying their zvezda , were well groomed, swathed in tailored clothes, and walked with a swagger only money and prestige could buy.

Most Hollow, their shirts parted to reveal a cavae , were noticeably thinner, wearing simple rags—some sitting roadside begging for slate. Whatever that was.

Studying a table of jewellery, Emmery’s attention snagged as Aera darted into the throng of people.

Emmery cried out but the fox merely threw her a wink before disappearing amongst the thundering feet.

Though worry gathered in her chest, Emmery exhaled it.

The fox had been on her own before and clearly lived here longer than her.

She could take care of herself for a few hours.

But even as Emmery tried to return to her browsing, that sensation drew her eyes to the crowd like a moth to a flame.

She squinted against the sharp sunlight, unable to see what clawed at her chest, unravelling her. Was it the same thing that drew Aera?

It was a feeling she couldn’t name. Like someone was watching her.

A black shadow brushed her path and bumped her, sending Emmery stumbling back. A stunted gasp burst from her as she realized what that thing was.

It wasn’t a shadow. Shadows didn’t have fur. Was that a wolf ?

Emmery rubbed her eyes, but the crowd engulfed the beast, and she lost it in moments. This day was getting stranger by the second.

As she sauntered through the market, keeping an eye out for Aera, Emmery rubbed her throbbing scars again. At least once this damned trial was over, they would finally cease. Then she would only have to tame her magic. Find someone to help her. But how she would even start looking, she didn’t know.

Emmery’s head spun with all the moving parts.

A rainbow of books sprawled across a table made her pause.

The woman gave her a gap-toothed smile, and with great effort, Emmery returned it.

Trained to hide behind her hood, sneak around markets, and sever brief interactions, this was proving to be a painful learning curve. But here, maybe she could relax. Maybe.

Regardless, she kept her hood drawn as a last barrier against this strange new world.

Emmery studied a navy-blue novel with a splash of gold lettering. Tales of the Wild by Rhessa Morrow. She glanced up to find the woman watching her. Clearing her throat, Emmery asked, “Did you write these?”

“You bet.” The woman, blanketed in a blue-grey vestige, tossed her chestnut-brown hair over her shoulder. “What a gorgeous cloak. Stunning colour.”

Emmery’s heart squeezed and she set the book down. The compliment, so easily exchanged, startled her and she searched for reciprocation. She traced a finger down the gold etchings. “Your covers—the details are beautiful.”

“You’re too kind. I paint and bind them myself.” She offered her hand. “I’m Rhessa.”

“Emmery.” She took the woman’s hand and squeezed.

Her skin was warm and soft, a zvezda peeking out from her low-cut, yellow dress.

Was it too forward to ask what magic Rhessa had?

For fear of overstepping, Emmery swallowed the question.

Instead, she stared longingly at the novel.

“I’d love to buy your book, Rhessa, but I’m afraid I don’t have any money. ”

Rhessa flipped through the pages of a leather covered novel, her other hand punctuating her words. “Are you a romance lover?”

A flush crept up Emmery’s neck and she huffed a laugh. “How can you tell?”

“Instinct.” Rhessa winked. She abandoned the first book and picked up another. “I myself am weak for legends and folklore but I enjoy a good romance novel too.”

Emmery admired the shiny, red cover in Rhessa’s hand. “What sort of legends?”

“All kinds. Kenna legends are particularly interesting.” Emmery, distracted by Rhessa’s broad hand gestures brimming with enthusiasm, barely heard the words. She extended the book. “Here. A gift from me to you.”

Eyeing the novel like it grew fangs and bit her, Emmery shook her head. “I can’t pay you. It wouldn’t be fair.” Not to mention nothing was given without a cost, whether it was expressed or not. “I’ll come back.”

Rhessa pressed the book into Emmery’s hands. Her breath caught but Emmery didn’t pull away. “Please. I want someone to finally read my work.” A sad laugh. “I hope it brings you joy.”

Unable to hold Rhessa’s blue-eyed gaze, Emmery focussed on the book. The title read: Tethered to the Stars . On instinct, due to the gift or the woman’s wholesome smile, Emmery took the chance.

Leaning toward Rhessa, like they were sharing some dangerous secret, she asked in a hushed voice, “Do you know where I can get this transcribed?” She pulled the pocket watch from beneath her tunic and flashed the text.

Rhessa tilted her head, her brows scrunching. “Ah, Sellidic. I can’t read it but someone with the blessing of charm would be able to.”