Page 40 of The Spark that Ignites (Shattered Soul #1)

D espite the cooler temperatures, the sun was blinding on this late autumn day.

Emmery lay on a stone bench in the castle garden, squinting at the map tucked inside her novel.

Beside her, Aera dashed through the flowers, covering herself in filth and gods know what else, before she would surely crawl back into Emmery’s bed.

Between her fox and the story drawing her in, Emmery’s focus waned, and she found herself lifting the map to read just one more page of Rhessa’s book.

She needed to learn this, but geography was insufferably boring.

Tracing her finger along the map, Emmery counted five kingdoms named after Kahlia’s beautiful and deadly daughters, each marked by a Tree of Eternal Blood all except the Forgotten Lands which allegedly belonged to the sixth sister, Serafelle.

A barrier blocked the only mountain path leading north and had prevented travel for nearly a century.

But the valley was self-sufficient with all resources mined, grown, or created by the land or people.

In fact, Vesper said a good majority was once shipped to the north before the barrier was sealed.

The valley in which Asaella, the King of Thorns’s kingdom, and Ellynne, the Merikh’s, was barricaded by a large mountainous chain, severing them from the rest of the continent and other considerably larger three kingdoms: Tsillah, Morana, and Delmira.

Emmery found herself searching for Malheim, which Rhessa had mentioned for the transcription of her ring and pocket watch, finding it nestled on the border of Asaella and Ellynne.

It didn’t appear too far from Castle Dusk but too far to travel unnoticed.

Likely half a day’s ride and that alone was daunting in this new world.

Although she was no longer forced to hide her magic, there was still a target on her back, and Emmery constantly watched over her shoulder, though Vesper assured she was safe here.

But she was different. Both Hollow and Fallen, yet somehow neither. Not to mention the Shadowheart . That was something else entirely. Perhaps she would always be other . Fitting in was like trying to shove a cube inside a pyramid—impossible and too damn exhausting.

“What are you looking at?” Briar asked, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, like she bled from the shadows themselves.

Emmery sprang up from the bench, her hand clutching her racing heart. “ Gods ... you scared me.”

“Sorry.” Briar gave a cocky smirk, clearly not sorry at all as she flicked her long navy hair over her shoulder. “Is that a book or a map?”

Emmery sank her teeth into her lip. “I’m trying not to bother Vesper for information. Also trying to balance educational and pleasure reading.”

Briar crossed her arms. “If you have questions, you should ask me . As sweet as Vesper is”—she leaned in, cupping her mouth with a hand, voice low—“he’s a bit of a moron.”

Her offhand comment had Emmery fighting back a smile. “At least he tries, right?”

“If you say so.” Briar peered at the cover in Emmery’s hands. “What’s the book about?”

“Someone gave it to me at a market.” The corners of her mouth turned up at the thought of Rhessa. “It’s a romance.”

Briar studied the cover. “You like it?”

“I do.” Emmery closed the book. “It’s nice to be someone else for a while. You know?”

“You should give me some recommendations so I can experience that kind of bliss.” She blew out a breath, stirring a hair stuck to her eyelashes. “Deimos knows I need it these days.”

“You know, living across the gate, I spent most of my time hiding. But when I was reading”—Emmery set the book down—“I got to live a thousand lives. It helped ease the feeling I was wasting my own.” She wasn’t sure what had come over her to offer such a personal piece of information.

The two had chatted but never gotten too in depth about themselves. Not like that.

“I’m sure you weren’t wasting it.” Briar’s voice softened, her crimson eyes gentle.

Emmery’s gaze trailed to the burns on Briar’s face. She couldn’t help it. How had that happened? How had she burned only half her body? Gods, the pain that must have—

“I got caught in the fire here,” Briar said, her voice calm and holding no condemnation.

Shit . A flush crept up Emmery’s neck. “Oh, I’m sorry—I didn’t—”

“It’s fine. I prefer to tell people before they ask.” To her relief she didn’t seem annoyed, like she’d told the story so many times it no longer held any emotion. Briar’s eyes narrowed on Emmery’s hand. “Is that—” She huffed a laugh. “Are you sucking on a lemon?”

Flipping the slice in her hand, Emmery asked, “Want one?” As if on cue, Aera tucked herself under Emmery’s legs, staring up at her with pleading eyes.

Briar winced, shaking her head at the plateful. “I usually prefer my torture in the form of hangovers. Isn’t that incredibly sour?”

“It’s quite good.” Biting down, the tart juices hit her tongue. Briar winced. Sitting up, Emmery tossed her hair over her shoulder, free from her usual braid. “We had a lemon tree outside our cottage growing up.” Emmery grabbed another wedge. “It helps curb hunger pains.”

Briar’s eyes widened and Emmery shrank into herself. Gods, why did she say it like that and offer that sharp piece of her past so willingly? Emmery’s shoulders tensed and she cast her eyes to the ground.

Why did she feel at ease with Briar? Like she could freely speak without judgement. As if maybe, they shared a past life. But gaining Vesper’s trust was one thing—she needed to gain Briar and Callias’s too since they would be staying here. Maybe this would work to her advantage.

Briar plunked herself beside Emmery, their arms brushing and her sweet lavender smell enveloping her. The girl had no spatial issues, unlike Emmery who scooted over to create breathing room. Briar didn’t seem to notice.

Emmery studied the concrete slabs. “I didn’t say that for sympathy. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Don’t be embarrassed.” Briar clasped her hands in her lap, knuckles whitening. “I know what it’s like to go hungry too. You shouldn’t be ashamed.”

Emmery sighed. Now that the bridge was down, she may as well cross it. “I did everything in my power to ensure my sister never did.” Emmery took another bite of the lemon before placing it back on the plate. “My mother was sick. She didn’t get out of bed most days.”

Briar studied her flawless red nail polish.

“I’ve spent the last eighty years helping children in similar situations.

Making sure they’re safe and fed. Since Iz—you know.

” She twirled a lemon slice in her fingers.

“Hollow children have it rough. Go through things no kid should ever have to experience. I was lucky my brother and I escaped before it happened but ... it could have easily been us. I remind myself of that every day.”

Tension coiled in Emmery’s body, an uneasiness at the vagueness of Briar’s words. “What sort of things?”

Briar took a bite, her face screwing up, and tossed the rind into the shrubs. “That was terrible,” she groaned. “Hand me another.”

Exhaling a laugh, Emmery obliged.

Briar flipped it in her palm before speaking.

“Hollow children are normally born in poverty. Their parents are usually so fucked up they can’t care for their children, and I think it has to do with the mental implication of the scar.

Being condemned from birth. Told they’re wrong.

Unholy. A lot of them struggle with substance abuse, and the kids are sold into flesh-trades, picked off from orphanages like my brother and I escaped from.

They’re called the Scarlets. They wear a red tie around their neck or wrist for easy identification, and they take a blood pactum.

It’s usually displayed somewhere easily seen.

Some on their neck, face, wrists, or hands.

And the children who aren’t, generally get involved with drugs, whether making or distributing.

Sometimes they get deeper into it.” She stared longingly into the distance for a tense moment, as if remembering something truly heart-wrenching and words hung unspoken between them.

Emmery didn’t pry, grasping for something to say but nothing could fix any of that.

Briar took another bite of the lemon, wincing before tossing the rind into a garden pot. “I try to help them before they get to that point. It’s much harder to get them out once they start. But some are reluctant to help themselves.”

Emmery licked the lemon juice off her fingers as she stared at the ground. “That’s awful.” She scrunched her eyes closed, pushing away thoughts of what she had been through—what her sister had seen too. “If I can help, let me know. I want to do anything I can.”

Briar playfully elbowed Emmery with a small smile on her face. “I think we would make a good team, you know? I teach them not to fear their magic too or at least I used to. Since the khaos flame went out, there have been no children with new powers.”

Emmery tried not to stare at Briar’s burns, focusing on her crimson eyes instead. “Can I—” She swallowed her nerves. “I know we just met, but can I ask a favour, Briar?”

Briar offered her a kind smile. “Go ahead.”

“Can you ... help me with my magic?”

Briar stared at her for a long moment, her throat working.

The fear of rejection pierced Emmery’s chest. “I—I’m having trouble controlling it and Vesper said he couldn’t help me, but—”

“ Yes ,” she said, cutting her off. “Yes, I’ll help you. Besides, you don’t want Vesper’s help. Trust me. Like I said—loveable guy, not so heavy on the brains.”

Emmery breathed a sigh of relief. “That would be great.”

“And Cal can teach you weapons. I’ll ask him today.”

Emmery’s stomach clenched. Callias and her hadn’t spoken beyond their brief interaction and cold glances. Would that really be the best chance for them to get to know each other? While wielding pointy things? “I don’t know—”

“Nonsense. He would love to help you, Emmy.”