Page 23 of The Spark that Ignites (Shattered Soul #1)

L ush foliage narrowed the uneven dirt path as they rode toward the sun.

The dwindling daylight highlighted Vesper’s grey hair, no doubt illuminating Emmery’s too.

Humming to Balthasar, Vesper sprinkled in some off-tune whistling, almost pretending he hadn’t dropped that shocking piece of information that he was a prince.

Dying to know more, Emmery juggled questions in her mind, some about him and others about what she was about to go through. Her already aching legs and back jostled from Juno’s gait and her insides churned. Not from the ride, but the looming trial.

“So, you were fifteen when you visited the spring?” she asked. Aera snored in Emmery’s ear, her breath tickling the silver hairs on her neck.

Vesper nodded. “I thought I imagined the ache at first, but Izora’s started soon after mine.” He smiled wistfully. “We went together.”

“I take it you both passed?”

Vesper ruffled his hair. “Shocking, isn’t it? I was a terrible child.”

Emmery squinted down the path, as if she could manifest the spring ahead, and what awaited. Anxiety rose, knotting and twisting within her, a writhing, squirming beast with no master. “Did you feel different after?”

“Yes, and no. More powerful.” He seemed to taste his answer, holding it on his tongue, before adding, “But still me.”

She ran her hand absently through Juno’s mane. What did that mean? “Do you think I’ll feel different?”

He looked Emmery over, assessing her. “I think it’s hard not to.”

Her heart lurched. If magic was powerful enough to corrupt people indefinitely, like it had for the former Queen Melantha, what if it ate away at her already scabrous soul? She already knew she was a monster deep down—what if this only awoke it?

“In what way?” she prodded, searching for more, needing it in a way she wouldn’t voice. Vesper would surely judge her if she revealed too much.

“In important ways.” He didn’t meet her gaze. “Like I was finally what I was supposed to be. I think magic does change us. When we’re beckoned, our chests throb because magic is a fundamental part of who we are. It’s our core. To be without must be torture.”

He turned to her, realising what he’d said. Emmery gave a curt nod.

“Has it been torture?” he asked. “Without your powers?”

“I don’t know the difference so I can’t say.

” Emmery chose her words carefully. “But I’ve been empty for as long as I can remember.

Like there’s ... a vacancy in me.” Maybe it was from the shit she’d been through or simply the way she was.

She might always feel this way. But what if magic could fill that gaping endless void?

She would do anything not to feel that anymore.

Not to suffer from that nothingness. “It’s hard to explain. ”

Vesper ran a hand through his hair. “You’re allowed to feel lost.”

Unsure what to say, Emmery’s insides tightened, a knot yanked from the incorrect end, only cinching it further until it surely would never come undone. So, she focused on the path, her fingers skimming the shooting star in her neck.

“I still do, you know.” Vesper caught her eye, and she raised a brow. He added, “Feel lost.” Offering a sad, understanding smile, the heaviness in Emmery’s chest lifted ever so slightly.

As she sat with Vesper’s sentiment, the forest shifted.

Hushed voices caressed their ears and Emmery shuddered as the ancient thrum of magic rattled her bones.

Brilliant shades of mint and gold flecked every tree, leaf, air particle, and slathered the ground.

It was like stepping into a dream she could never conjure herself.

“We’re here.” Vesper dismounted and tapped his cuff three times, dismissing Balthasar. His black wisps faded into the wind as Emmery slid off Juno and did the same.

Emmery stared at the empty space her steed had occupied. “I miss her already.” It was almost a shock when the admission left her.

A disgruntled chirp sounded in her ear from her greedy fox.

“It doesn’t mean I love you any less,” Emmery assured her, turning her face into Aera’s luscious gloss of white fur.

Aera exhaled a haughty sigh and shimmied down Emmery’s shoulder. The fox bounded along, randomly crashing through brush at every opportunity.

“You can call Juno back, but I wouldn’t recommend it here.” He cupped his mouth, his voice contained, “The spirits don’t like to be disturbed.”

A symphony of colours exploded in every flower imaginable, caught in tangles of thorns and overgrown vines. It was unlike anything she’d ever seen, the magic battling with itself, one flowery and soft and the other harsh and calloused.

“What kind of spirits reside here?” Emmery asked. “You can hear them too, right?”

“I hear them. They’re those whose ashes are offered to Kahlia.

When the Fallen die, their bodies are burned and ashes scattered at the Trees of Eternal Blood.

” Vesper’s gloved fingers bristled the shorn hair on the side of his head.

They stood close enough that Emmery could brush his arm.

“My father used to tell me the spirits listen and that’s why we couldn’t discuss the secrets of our trials.

That it would anger them, and they would follow us home and cut off all our hair while we slept. ”

“Sounds like a great bedtime story. Wonderful parenting.”

Sadness swam in Vesper’s eyes and her stomach twisted. Had she struck a nerve?

“He was a good father. Practically a saint,” he said, the last word holding a bitterness. Respecting his earlier boundary, she didn’t press.

Emmery softly placed the question. “Is he here? Izora too?”

“My father wouldn’t be here. His body was buried, not burned. As for Izzy, she, uh ... had no release into the afterlife.” By his hardened expression, she certainly struck a nerve.

Emmery lightened her tone. “Why wouldn’t you spread his ashes on the bloody trees?”

“ Trees of Eternal Blood ,” he corrected. “And my father was Hollow. To burn his body would be an act against the gods, let alone scatter his ashes. For Deimos to claim their souls they must be buried. It’s the only path to an afterlife.”

Emmery pondered the overgrowth, the chaotic voices, and the quaking magic. Why were the Fallen reincarnated while the Hollow were sentenced to an afterlife? They were given no choice like their magic. But she supposed the Fallen weren’t given a choice either.

As they rounded a corner, invisible hands guided her towards the spring. She chewed her lip as the pulsing magic grew stronger. Threatening. “What else should I know?”

Vesper watched her sidelong. “You remember how I said there was a cost for everything? That magic wasn’t given freely?”

“I distinctly remember you saying I would get screwed over.” She shrugged a shoulder. “Or something along those lines.”

“That’s not what I said but yes, there’s a price once you complete your trial.

” Vesper released a long breath as if he was breaking terrible news.

“Your soul is split into four parts: the shadow, spark, reflection, and ember. The shadow represents memories, past and experiences. For you to receive the magic of the Hollow, you offer it to Deimos. The spark is the future, your ambitions and hope. Kahlia claims this for Fallen magic. The ember is however yours. Same with the reflection which is essentially your consciousness. How you see yourself.”

Emmery’s stomach sank. “And how do they take it?”

“You pledge that part of your soul and upon death it’s claimed by the god. Not that you’ll need it once you’re dead. I doubt we’ll care much then.”

Emmery frowned. She guessed he was right. If she were dead, why would she care? “What’s the ember?”

“It’s the part the gods can’t take. The essence of our beings and the center of everything.

What keeps us tethered to this earth. Some call it the human part because it holds our capacity for emotion, fragility and strength of our hearts.

” He kicked a rock. “It’s also the part of our soul that links us to others. The implexus .”

Emmery cocked a silver brow. “ Implexus ?”

“Gods, I sound like The Great Text of Karynthia.” He released a warm laugh.

“It’s a sacred bond. Some people are lucky enough to be born with a soulmate, an ember that calls to their own.

We call the bonds tethers. It’s destiny.

The tethers are woven into our souls and sometimes these bonds follow through centuries if the souls are reincarnated, but that’s up to the gods.

Back to the beginning of everything. But it’s a story we don’t have time for. ”

“Do you have an implexus ? A tethered?”

Vesper rubbed his chin. “Not that I know of. It’s said when you meet this person, you feel a tugging at your heart. That you’re inexplicably drawn to them.” A soft laugh slipped between his lips. “I doubt you need to worry, Sparky. With your hatred for others.”

Emmery frowned at him. “ Ass .”

“I’m not saying anything you haven’t said yourself.” Vesper raised his hands in defence. “The implexus only brings people together. It doesn't guarantee anything. Not even that you’ll like or tolerate them.”

Aera dashed through a cluster of scarlet roses as they came upon the small spring, only twice Emmery’s height and width.

A short marble statue of a goddess stood at a silver altar, holding a tarnished gold chalice.

Her exquisite, delicate features were simultaneously fierce and frightening.

The worn stone muddied the goddess’s face but as she squinted harder, Emmery couldn’t help but think it sort of looked . .. like her .

No. That was nonsense.

Emmery’s pulse quickened as they approached.

The glassy dark water incited dread in her bones, and she peered over the icy edges.

Gods, the water was black . Depthless. Panic bubbled up inside her.

Vesper bumped her hip, the playful gesture disturbing her trance.

She shook her head. Could she really do this?

“You’ll be great.” He turned to face her, grasping her shoulders.

This time she didn’t shrink away, and his support held her together.

“No pressure, but there’s a lot depending on this.

Remember this is your birthright. The gods called and you’re finally answering.

Have faith in yourself. You’re stronger than you think. ”

Emmery nodded, her gaze fixated on the altar and the strange statue.

Carved into the chalice were six hooded figures, their long hair and curves indicating they were women.

A phoenix and long fanged lion, tangled in an intimate embrace, stood at the forefront of the chalice, each goddess reaching for them.

Vesper unsheathed a dagger from his belt and held out his hand. “There’s a blood offering before the trial,” he said to the question in Emmery’s eyes. “Just a small cut.”

She pursed her lips. “You demons and your blood rituals.”

“I think you mean, us demons and our blood rituals.”

Retrieving her dagger, Emmery gripped it with bleached knuckles, trying to hide the tremor in her fingers. She needed to pull herself together.

“Make sure you get the blood in the chalice.”

Emmery frowned. “And where else would I put it, Vesper?”

He grinned.

Emmery laid the dagger along her palm, wincing at the blade’s bite.

Blood welled and she squeezed her hand over the chalice.

Crimson droplets fell one by one into the cup.

A beat passed, but much to Emmery’s relief, the chalice slowly glowed in acceptance.

Vesper reached into his pouch and offered a swatch of fabric to wrap her wound.

He gestured to the spring. “Take the chalice and dip it in the water.”

The chalice warmed in her unbandaged hand. Stepping towards the shore the still, opaque spring now flowed, and she filled the tarnished chalice halfway with ebony water. Emmery returned to Vesper, clutching it so hard her fingers ached. “Now what?”

With a stupid smirk, he nodded at the murky water laced with her blood. “Drink it.”

Colour drained from her face. “You can’t be serious.” She waited for a reveal of some jest, but none came. “That’s disgusting.”

“Trust me, it’s really not bad.” He nodded at the cup. “Bottoms up.”

Trust him ? Emmery cursed.

As she stared into the chalice, her head swam. Swaying on her feet, reality hit her like a fist to the face. She was about to enter some deadly trial that she may never wake from.

This could be her last moment. Her last breath. Last heartbeat.

Emmery’s ears rang and she gritted her teeth against the panic.

She looked up from the chalice, missing all the words he’d said.

“It’s going to be alright,” he assured and rested a hand on her shoulder again. “Take a deep breath.”

She did but the tension remained. “Vesper?”

Hearing the quake in her voice, he bent to eye level. “Emmery?”

“Please—” Her heart threatened to give out. “Don’t let me die.”

“I won’t. I promise.” He sounded so certain, he could keep her from Death’s grip. It did little to soothe her nerves but at least he played along.

Vesper squeezed her shoulder before letting his arm fall to his side. “Take your time.”

She paced the spring shore for what could have been minutes or hours. Her legs needed movement. This moment was too big to be still. Vesper sat on the edge of the clearing, flipping a knife in his hand. He was surprisingly quiet as she untangled her knotted thoughts.

All she had to do was drink and the trial would start and devour her mind. It was only the fear of failure holding her back. Well, also the threat of death. But she needed her magic. Not only to help Vesper, but to finally know herself.

To feel what she could do. To belong here.

So, Emmery plugged her nose, tipped the cup back, and downed half of it in one large swallow. Vesper’s low voice fell to the background as the surprisingly sweet liquid danced on her tongue and Emmery drained the cup, licking her lips greedily.

A wave of dizziness overtook her, like her organs were being rearranged, her blood reversing its flow.

Vesper spoke but his words were lost in the air between them. He leapt to his feet and ran toward her. What was happening? But before he reached her, she stumbled backwards.

Once. Twice.

The chalice fell from her hands and struck the grassy floor.

Thrice, her steps teetered.

Emmery’s vision winked out, her world consumed by darkness. Blind, she staggered, her arms flailing in the newfound black.

No , this couldn’t be happening. What had she done?

Vesper’s shouts were too late. He couldn’t reach her in time.

Her body was lost. Emmery disappeared into her mind before she toppled into the dark water of the spring.