Page 48 of The Spark that Ignites (Shattered Soul #1)

“The pressure to relight the khaos flame. Learning to control my magic. Stop the deadly fever taking our people.” She shrugged. “The usual.”

“Hey, you said our people.” Vesper brightened, grinning impossibly wide. Then he giggled. Actually giggled . “You know—you know what’s funny?”

Emmery hid her smile. “How drunk are you?”

“I’m not drunk,” he slurred. Whatever was in that bottle hit him hard and the corners of his mouth pulled up as he pinched the air. “Alright ... maybe a little.”

“You giggled. You’re clearly drunk.” Emmery nudged him. “What’s so funny?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Never mind ... it’s stupid.”

“Oh, come on. I could really use a joke.” Emmery felt like she hadn’t laughed in years though at some point the crippling emptiness inside her had subsided. Not filled but lessened. Accompanying it was an unwarranted hopefulness trickling into her stone heart.

Vesper hugged his knees to his chest and put a finger to his lip, toying with it in thought. “When we bring Iz back, she's going to be the younger twin. Because she hasn’t been aging all this time.” He smacked a broad hand to his face. “Wow, that sounded dumber aloud.”

“No, it’s not,” she assured, voice soft. Emmery had wondered about Maela too and her heart stuttered at the thought of her betrayal and how soon it drew near. “It’s warranted under these unusual circumstances.”

Each day her plan grew more difficult. Could she really do this to him and steal his reunion with Iz for her own selfish gain? Guilt slammed into her full force each time she contemplated it.

Fuck, this wasn’t supposed to be this hard. Damn her conscience.

Vesper took another drink, staggered to his feet, and sauntered to the throne. He threw himself onto it and slid down. “It’s not terribly comfortable.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to slouch like that .”

“Well then how am I supposed to sit?” he asked, his chin pulled to his chest. He gave a silly, inebriated smirk.

Emmery returned it. “Like it’s made from the bones of your enemies.”

“That’s pretty dark, Sparky. Even for you.”

“I meant sit with pride, Ves.” She looked around at all the reflections of the two of them. “I’ve been meaning to ask, what’s with all the mirrors?”

“My father was particularly obsessed with the reflection aspect of the soul. He thought the mirrors were poetic. It was definitely a conversation starter.” He sat up straight and lifted his chin in the air. “Better?”

She nodded enthusiastically. They watched each other, Vesper on his throne and her on the floor before him. She felt so small as he looked down at her, running his hands along the throne’s arms like she was a whispering breeze, and he was the howling mountain winds.

“What do you want most in life, Emmery?” he asked. “Like if you could have anything in the world, what would it be?”

The seriousness of the question took her back.

She picked at the bottle label, tearing the paper under her fingernails.

“I would wish for my sister back. To live somewhere safe so she could grow. Where I could give her everything. Everything she never had.” A heaviness settled into her chest as Emmery rolled the paper between her fingers. “What would you wish for?”

“This may be the drink talking, but ... I’ve always wanted a family.

Children. At least three of them, or maybe four so one isn’t left out.

And a woman who loves me. Not for money or power, but .

.. for me . Without cost or conditions.” He released a deep sigh.

“But I would never bring a child into this world. Not now. With the fever—I wouldn’t subject a child to that. ”

Unintentionally, her arms wrapped around her abdomen.

Instinct told her he would be a good father. The laid back and fun parent, but an unceasingly loving one, nonetheless. She wanted that for him. And if she couldn’t relight the flame, it would be her fault he could never have it.

Emmery studied his sharp profile in the dark, his bow shaped lips and the faint black stubble on his cut jaw. There was bound to be someone out there that would swoon over him. To love him. Well, she had already seen the effect he had on women, and he damn well knew it too.

“Have you not looked for a wife?” she asked.

He laughed—a soft, light chuckle. It warmed the cold, dark room, as if his presence could mend this broken kingdom. “Women can smell desperation. They tend to enjoy my company for a short time and lose interest when they realize I don’t have much else to offer.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” she argued. “You’re more than just a pretty face, Ves.”

“ Right. ” The sarcasm lathered his tongue. Vesper tilted his head to the side, studying her intently. “Have you ever been in love?”

Emmery stared down at her hands, her cheeks heating. “Not really. Have you?”

“I was. Or ... I thought I was once.”

She raised a brow. “And?”

Vesper cleared his throat, and a sad smile tugged his mouth “I think I liked the idea of it more than actually being in love. But she’s only a memory now, so ...”

The question rose in her throat, but Emmery swallowed it down. From the bloodstained floor and the state of the kingdom, it likely wouldn’t be a happy memory.

“Love is dangerous,” Emmery mused, her voice low. “Terrifying and raw. It can make you mad and sane simultaneously. Vulnerable. But it’s the great equalizer. We all suffer from it.” Vesper studied her with such a complex expression, she retracted. “But what do I know?”

“I’ve never felt it, but I’ve seen true love and what it is to lose it.

Sometimes it’s so palpable between two people you can feel it in the air around them.

” Vesper paused, followed by another bright laugh.

Emmery savoured the sound. After what he had been through, he deserved to laugh. “But like you said, what do I know?”

He stood from the throne, and walked over, plopping beside her. He took a long swig of his drink before speaking. “I was thinking”—he dragged his bottom lip between his teeth—“when did you want to call your sister?”

Her shoulders tightened involuntarily. “When you’re ready I suppose?”

“What about tonight?” Vesper held her gaze. “I have what we need. We could do it now.”

Emmery inspected her hands as if they were the most interesting thing in this room, her chest suddenly in knots. “Is it a good idea? We’ve been ... drinking.”

“I’m practically sober.” Vesper gave her a lopsided smile that was certainly anything but. “Are you ready? I don’t want to push.”

His words settled into her chest, the knots tightening.

Would she ever be ready? But she was desperate to see Maela and speak to her again in case her plan failed.

She had the celestial trumpet, access to the bones and stones, and spell scripture in the dungeon but so many things could go wrong.

The thought warred in her head each night.

“We don’t have much time before the Fallen Equinox. And I’ll barely find time to take a piss with my bloody insane schedule next week,” Vesper pressed, “so if we don’t do it now, it will have to wait.”

Emmery nodded through the immense pressure in her heart, not able to acknowledge a glimpse of humour from his joke. She couldn’t wait. There wouldn’t be an after the Fallen Equinox for them. “Let’s do it now.”

“You’re sure?” Only familiar kindness lit his eyes. “We can wait.”

“I don’t know if I ever will be.” Taking a gulp of her drink as if the courage she needed lay at the bottom of the bottle, she added, “But, for the moment, I’m sure.”

Vesper clambered to his wobbly feet. “Meet me in the garden in ten minutes then.”

He left her in the throne room, her pulse pounding in her ears. She was about to see her sister again. Emmery repeated it to herself. But it didn’t feel real.

On numb legs, Emmery walked to the garden. She sat amongst the lilies until Vesper emerged through the glass doors carrying a pouch and a globe of some kind. He kneeled in the flowers with her, opening the bag of powder.

Seeing the question in her eyes, Vesper said, “Ground Hollow hound bones are used to contain spirits, but we can’t hold her long. Probably only a few minutes.” Sprinkling it in a circle between them, he added, “I’ve never done this with a human, so hopefully it works the same.”

Emmery eyed the glass orb of red liquid clutched in his hand, her stomach churning. The viscosity was off, thicker, but it couldn’t be anything other than— “Is that blood?

A curt nod.

“Do I want to ask what from?”

“Probably not.” He surrendered a wobbly smile. “Are you ready?”

What would she say to Maela if she only had minutes? There was so much she wanted to tell her. Gods, there was no way she would ever be ready for this.

Emmery nodded, her heart lodged in her throat.

“She won’t be able to hear you but tell me what you want to say, and I’ll relay it.

” Vesper clutched the orb, speaking words in a language she didn’t recognize.

The orb glimmered in his palm along with the moonlit glow of his eyes.

Emmery sucked in a breath as the air picked up around them, heavy with the scent of burial plots and acrid soil.

Was this the scent of death? It was oddly reminiscent of the Waking Wood.

Her brows knit as light surged from the circle. A swirl of crimson and white wisps gathered, and there she was.

Small and delicate, her wild red hair still in those braids Emmery wove that night.

Throat burning with tears, Emmery croaked, “Mae?”

Maela lifted her head, her familiar warm whiskey eyes wide. “Hello?”

Face stoic, Vesper cleared his throat. “My name is Vesper. I’m here with your sister. She wishes to speak to you. I’ll relay her words.” He spoke slowly, his voice a mask of calm.

Maela’s eyes flared. “Em?” Her little voice shook. “She’s there?”

Fearing her heart may collapse, Emmery rubbed her stinging eyes. “Maela, Gods. I—I didn’t think I would ever see you again.” She cleared the tears from her voice. “Are you safe?”