Page 7 of Of Ash and Embers

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“Ah.” I pressed my lips into a thin line. “That one is much easier to answer. If they attack our city, we’ll have to kill them all.”

Three

Kalen

OVER FOUR HUNDRED YEARS AGO

The fae of Dubnos cheered as my mother rode along the cobblestone streets bathed in starlight. Her raven hair streamed out behind her, the moonlight painting her skin with silver. Even from where I stood behind the crowd, I swore I could see the diamonds in her eyes. Sighing, I folded my arms and waited in the castle courtyard with my sister, Rhiannon, and my half-brother, Enysien. Mother had been gone for months, and she’d left Father in charge, a decision that had caused two incidents of rioting in the streets, one murder at a feast, and a least a dozen book burnings—mostly of texts that glorified the gods my father had brought with him when he’d moved here.

Matho Ceirin, the former Lord of Star Isles and now the King Consort of the Kingdom of Shadow, had been married to my mother for almost fifty years, and he was still considered a stranger in this city.

“Queen Bellicent Denare! I’m so glad you’re home.” The Queen’s Shadow, a warrior named Niamh, walked toward my mother with a smile, her braided violet hair trailing down her back. She wore black leather armor that blended with her dark skin, and she moved with a confidence no one could ignore. My mother swung off her horse and embraced the warrior before striding over to us. My father had been in charge in Mother’s absence, but Niamh had done her damndest as my mother’s right hand to keep the crown in check. She’d been the only reason the brief riots hadn’t escalated into something far worse.

“My babies. My beautiful, beautiful babies.” With a magnificent smile, Mother opened her arms wide, just as she’d done when we were still toddlers racing barefoot down the castle hallways with the cold stone biting our skin.

My sister hugged her fiercely. “Thank the moon you’re back. But when are you going to stop acting as though we were frozen in time at age eight?”

“Never,” my mother whispered into my sister’s short dark hair. She pulled back and turned to my half-brother. “Not you, either, Enysien, though it’s getting harder by the day to ignore.”

Enysien had grown hard these past few years and spent most of his time training in the courtyard with the Queen’s Shadow. Like his father, he was a common fae and couldn’t wield any shadow magic. Normally, a queen—or king—would seek out an elite fae to shore up strength. But Matho had been the Lord of Star Isles, home to thousands of ships, including ones crafted for war. When my father had first come to Dubnos, he’d passed down his title to his eldest son from a previous marriage, who had stayed behind in Star Isles. Linking our families had been a strategic move on my mother’s part.

Unfortunately, he’d brought his love of the gods here with him.

Mother embraced Enysien quickly, and then placed her gloved hand on my arm. “Kalen, I need to speak with you privately about something quite important. Come with me. Now.”

I frowned and glanced at my sister, who merely shrugged. Mother had been acting strangely the past few years, and she’d left in a hurry a few months ago with a cryptic explanation.The knowledge is out there, you see, she’d said.And I need to find it before it’s too late.

She’d never explained anything more than that. One day, she’d hopped on her horse, surrounded by two dozen warriors, and rode off to chase down answers. There had been moments I’d wondered if she would ever come back.

Mother led me to her private quarters where a fire blazed in the hearth. I eased into an armchair and watched her pace from one end of the drafty room to the next, still clad in her boiled leather armor. It was then I noticed that the faint lines around her eyes were deeper than they’d been before, and a single strand of gray shot through her glossy midnight hair. When fae reached adulthood, they stopped aging. Most of the time.

“Something has happened.” The chair creaked as I shifted. “You ran off on some wild adventure with barely a word, and when you return, you do this? What’s the matter? The way you’re acting…you’re making me think someone’s died.”

She paused and gazed into the flames. “If you don’t do exactly what I ask of you, a lot of peoplearegoing to die.”

I frowned and sat up a little straighter. “What are you talking about?”

With a sigh, she spun around the opposite chair and sank down, dropping her head into her hands. Strands of her dark hair leaked out between her fingers. “I found something in your father’s books that alarmed me. We know so little about the history of Aesir. All that knowledge has been lost over the centuries, but mostly, we know hardly anything about the gods.”

“Matho certainly does,” I countered.

She frowned at me. “Are you still not calling him your father?”

“Do you blame me?”

“He’s not a bad man. He’s just confused.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Matho worships the five winged riders who brought destruction to this world. The fae of this city are revolting against him, againstus. He tried to erect a statue of the gods while you were gone. Did you know that? Riots broke out in the streets.”

“Niamh told me everything,” my mother said tightly. “And he will be dealt with. He just…he doesn’t know what he’s doing. Star Isles has always worshipped the gods. It will take time for him to come around to our beliefs. He just needs to see that what he’s been taught is wrong.”

“And so that’s why you sailed away? To find something that could convince him?”

“No.” She folded her hands in her lap. “I was seeking the truth about when they first came to these lands and how we once banished them. Something in your fathers’ books made me worry they might soon return.”

I furrowed my brow. “Return? Here, to Aesir?”

She nodded.


Tags: Jenna Wolfhart Fantasy