Page 60 of The Spark that Ignites (Shattered Soul #1)

A fter sputtering back to life, disoriented and gripped by terror, an unbridled burning devoured her flesh that rivalled throwing herself onto a flaming pyre. Emmery had thrashed uncontrollably in Vesper’s lap, nearly toppling off Balthasar, until Vesper rendered her unconscious.

Hours later, she stomped furiously around their makeshift camp in a smattering of trees.

“I can’t believe you knocked me out,” she accused, crossing her arms. How he found that pressure point in her neck was beyond her knowledge. “You could have warned me.”

Vesper paused his chewing, his fingers sinking into the bread.

“First, you’re welcome. Second, you were in discomfort and fighting frostbite.

I solved the problem.” He shrugged, extending his boots toward the fire from where he sat.

“It was an unorthodox solution, but you would’ve taken us both down.

Remember how we talked about self-preservation? ”

Emmery wouldn’t admit it but if she hadn’t slept, she may have lost her damn mind.

She had woken with a raw throat, sweaty, and sore, but luckily, she could feel all her extremities. And Vesper had ensured they made it to Deimos’s Mausoleum.

He bit off a chunk with gusto and spoke around the bread. “Also, for someone who hates water you sure find yourself in it a lot. Can I ask why you were running across a frozen lake in the wrong direction?”

Vesper’s spare clothes hung comically off her frame while hers dried next to the fire.

“They saw me. Melantha and Serafelle. And a dozen Hollow hounds.” She shivered and sank down beside him.

“Did you find that girl’s mother?” He assured all survivors were brought to safety and received an invitation to Ellynne.

But Vesper paled. “Her mother ...” The shake of his head told her all she needed to know.

Emmery’s chest throbbed and guilt cinched her gut. “I—I did that. She died because I opened that damn passage.” She swallowed, laying her head in her shaking hands.

Vesper shifted closer, tugging her into his side. “It’s done now. It’s alright.”

“We both know it’s neither of those things.” Her hands balled to fists as they both sat in silence, staring into the crackling flames. Chest heavy, Emmery clutched her pocket watch, grateful the water hadn’t whisked it away. “Let’s get to the mausoleum. I want to go home.”

Home .

She glanced at Vesper.

Was that what Castle Dusk was? Her body vibrated with all the emotions she wasn’t ready to deal with. She refused to process falling into the water. It was like her mind rejected it or it was saving her from reducing to a withered lump.

He watched the fire. Dark bruises circled his eyes—evidence of their long ride and his sleepless night.

And swimming in his gaze was intensity and something else.

Something potent and inconsolable. Maybe he was thinking about Izora.

How it would feel to hold her again. How close he was to success and possibly failure.

Maela’s bright smile consumed Emmery’s thoughts as she stood to check her clothes. “I’ll change ... and then we should get going.”

“I’ll be here.” Vesper shoved the bread into his mouth as if it could stifle whatever words clawed up his throat.

EMMERY EXPECTED A GRAVEYARD—OR what Vesper had called a boneyard

But she hadn’t expected it to be abandoned.

Vesper wrenched the rusted gate open with a sinister creek, and they slipped inside.

Long shadows branched the crumbling gravestones, carelessly strewn along the untamed muddy ground.

The last flickers of sunlight had Emmery scurrying along the dirt path as a shiver snaked up her spine.

This was the last place she wanted to be at nightfall.

“Do people still bury their loved ones here?” she asked. “This place is rather run down.”

In the mortal lands, it was common to bury the deceased in graveyards, but it was never a place she visited. It seemed twisted to have so many bodies packed tightly in one place. So, she had buried her mother in the woods and carved a pebbled headstone that was surely long lost.

“It’s illegal per Asaella’s law.” A bitter rage laced Vesper’s tone. “Was before my father died too. We buried him at Castle Dusk.”

Emmery bumped his hip, and he gave her a half-hearted smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

She squinted at the illegible name on the aged tombstones shrouded in moss and eroded by time. “Can you hear these souls?”

Vesper’s brows creased. “No, only those in the mausoleums. Unfortunately, they’re obnoxiously shrill and not overly creative in their demands.

” He strolled to the tombstone and traced a finger over the name.

“These souls have been claimed by Deimos and brought to the Hollow for eternal rest.” Continuing on the path, he added, “Iz was never so lucky.”

Crookedly, a weathered stone building, with the same sharp architecture as Castle Dusk, waited at the end of the boneyard.

Moss and unruly vines climbed it, tugging it down as if the earth attempted to reclaim it.

Two hound statues guarded the entrance, seemingly watching as they approached.

Emmery peered into their too-real eyes and shivered.

Vesper threw his weight into the iron door, stamped with a blood-red cavae , and creaked open with disdain.

A revenant wind escaped, laced with rot and grave dirt.

“Odd choice of guardians,” Emmery said, swallowing hard and gesturing at the hounds. “Don’t most mausoleums have divine figures guarding the door?”

“Well, most crypts don’t house evil creatures.” He shoved his face in the hound’s, daring it to move. “Legend claims they’ll come to life if any corpses escape.”

As Vesper heaved the doors closed and plunged them into darkness, the air constricted in Emmery’s lungs. This was too close to being buried alive. Panting, she summoned her flame to her hand for some semblance of comfort.

They descended the narrow steps and passed several heavy stone caskets. Though nothing flickered with movement, the heavy iron chains binding them did little to calm her racing pulse. What could they possibly be for if whatever was inside was dead? The hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

“Deimos trapped them here as punishment,” Vesper said. “Their souls can’t rest. They linger. Forever stuck in unending stasis.”

Emmery eyed a gold box displaying a horrifying creature with the fangs and horns of a demon carved onto the lid. “Seems unnecessarily cruel.”

His arm circled her waist as they skirted a tower of coffins. “Trust me, you don’t know what they did.” And honestly, nor did she want to.

They rounded a sharp corner, and an impassable wall blocked their path. Vesper growled a curse. “No! This isn’t supposed to— ” He pounded his fist against the wall and dust coated his hair. “Zyphira said it was here . It can’t be anywhere else.” He searched the dead end frantically.

“Are you sure?” Emmery sank her teeth into her lip, glancing behind them for answers. “Is there anywhere else? Can you ask her? Maybe we can—”

He leaned his forehead against the wall; his hands braced on either side of his head. “We’re out of time.”

Emmery’s chest constricted. She’d never seen him so dejected.

Vesper lingered for several heart wrenching moments, and a tiny broken sound slipped from his throat. “ Izzy —I’m sorry.” A quiet plea into the void.

Emmery placed a hand on his back, his muscles bunching beneath her touch. “It’s alright. We’ll figure it out.” She willed her flame brighter to look for any possible solution. “Maybe, it’s—”

She squinted. Faint markings etched the stone and some sort of indent sat in the middle. It had the strangest outline of three interlocking circles like her cavae .

“Vesper.” She grabbed his cloak and hauled him back. “Look! Can you read it?”

His hand speared his hair, dust spilling down the side of his face.

“I—no. I can’t read Sellidic.” Brushing away the remaining dirt as if it would spontaneously award him the ability to understand this strange language, he added, “I think that one word is time, but I’m not sure.

My father had this globe, and it had a word like that carved into it, but I don’t remember.

” He tugged on his hair with a frustrated groan.

Emmery’s heart stilled as the pocket watch ticked anxiously between her breasts. Her hand rose, thumb instinctively running over the text. The man from Malheim’s voice echoed through her mind. She whispered, “Time is the key to all locks.”

Vesper’s brow scrunched as he turned to her. “What?”

“The inscription on my watch.” Emmery yanked the chain over her head. “It reads: Time is the key to all locks.” Flicking open the two pieces, she unfurled it to match the keyhole. Like they were made for one another. How had she never seen it? The shape—it was a cavae .

She held her breath as it slid into place with a satisfying click and the clock face illuminated.

The rumble of scraping stone shook the room, the floor trembling, and she gripped Vesper’s arm.

They both choked on raining dust as the wall retracted into the ceiling.

Winding stairs, leading gods only knew where, forged the new path breathing an ancient, dreaded wind.

A slow, mocking tick remained after the world stilled again. Vesper squinted at the watch face, the glow slivering as the seconds raced. Counting down. And time drained with each moment they hesitated. An hour. A single hour and then—

Oh gods, would the crypt close? Her stomach twisted and the urge to vomit surfaced.

Vesper slung off his pack and plunked it at the door.

“Leave it here. Those stairs are incredibly narrow. It’ll be impossible to keep our balance with extra weight.

” Emmery’s bag joined his as he fished a battered piece of parchment from his pocket and pointed to a circular amulet, filled with a thick black liquid and a stone skull.

It seemed insignificant except as he tilted the paper, the skull gained and lost flesh. “This is what we’re looking for.”

A withered voice howled inside her to turn around. That this amulet and whatever waited in this crypt was unholy.

“There’s something off about this,” she said low.

“Come on,” he urged. “We’re so close, Emmery. So close.” Though his eyes were weary, he smiled. Vesper held out his hand as he had countless times. “Do you trust me?”

This time, Emmery took it. “I guess you’ve finally worn me down.” Their eyes met before they descended into the crypt, and Vesper squeezed her hand.

She silently punctuated: always .