Two days had passed since she left Blackdawn Castle, seemingly the equivalent to an eternity. The bond hummed within her, aching and empty again. The further she fled, the less Destonne lingered in that hollow part of her.
And she didn’t know if that was better or worse.
Aera shoved her nose under Emmery’s cloak. Though spring had made its appearance while they’d been in the Hollow, the nights still seeped a chill into her bones.
Emmery lifted her gaze to find Reize with the tea Dez had warned her about all those months ago. When offered, Emmery cupped the mug and stared into it, lost.
“Thank you for seeing me on short notice,” Emmery said, hoarsely.
“You seem troubled,” Reize replied. Those strange, yellowed eyes that wouldn’t focus surveyed her. “How can I assist you?”
“I have a bit of an unorthodox question, but I didn’t know where else to go.” Emmery picked at her already bleeding nail. She glanced at all the aged, musty books scattered along the bookshelf and then studied the rose scarred into her palm that still tormented her.
For the last few nights, she’d screamed into the Divide for Zyphira, but even the Oracle had abandoned her. She must have really fucked up to deserve that. “What do you know of bonds?” she asked.
“I’m well versed.” Reize cocked her head at Emmery, and a shiver worked its way up her spine. “I can smell one on you. Is that what you wish to know?”
Emmery’s nose scrunched. “You can smell it? Can … everyone smell it?”
“No,” she replied. She laughed a light tinkling sound. “It’s part of the conditioning. Though I didn’t complete it, some abilities one achieves early.”
Even though she was afraid of the answer, Emmery asked, “What does it smell like?”
The instrument of the Gods extended her hand. “May I touch you?”
Hesitantly, Emmery placed her hand in Reize’s.
Emmery shuddered as Reize ran her finger along the bond. An image of Dez flashed through her mind: him sitting at the pond, damp hair dripping water in the moonlight, his back torn with an array of fresh wounds. A sleeping Soren lay in his arms and Brennen at his side.
“It smells like warm amber, vanilla, and fire with a hint of woodsmoke. And something cold, like winter air and mint. Very strong mint. And it’s all very intimately entwined. Like ribbons knotted a half dozen times over.”
Emmery’s heart sank. Plummeted to the bottom of a chasm.
“What did you see?” Reize asked, tilting her head.
Emmery cleared her throat and peered up at Reize. “Him. I—I sawhim.”
“Fascinating,” she hummed.
Another stroke of her finger, and another image of Dez surfaced. With a tiny flare of herkhaosflame, his skin melted and teeth clenched, he set the thorns alight. They withered, then returned.
Emmery’s eyes dampened. From what she could tell, he could only use that tiny fragment, and each time he borrowed her flame, it tugged like a rope tied around her heart, but her magic always happily aided him. She hadn’t knownwhathe used it for. Had this been the reason all along?
“Interesting,” Reize mused, her strange eyes shut. “This is different.” She released Emmery’s hand, stood, and skipped merrily to the bookshelf, her dark hair swaying. At least someone was happy.
Since her confrontation with Brennen on the way back to her room to pack, Emmery had been beside herself since he’d known about the Council, too. She’d also demanded he not tag along, even as he followed her out the door. Surely it was only by Dez’s order. She’d brushed Fionn off too, though he didn’t deserve it. She was just hurt.
Then Reize hummed a familiar tune. The one Emmery had played on the pianoforte with Dez. Emmery’s pulse slowed as the notes echoed in the dank cottage.
“How do you know that song?” she asked.
“Oh, silly me. I heard it through the bond.”
Unsure what that meant, Emmery’s heart dropped.
Reize skimmed her fingers along the bookshelf, then plucked one off and skipped back to the table. Her fingers traced the series of textured bits on the page, some lettering system she’d never seen before, but surely Dez knew. He seemed to know everything. Emmery shoved the thoughts of him away. When she let herself think of him, she fell into dark places.
Reize clapped the book shut. “This bond is not god willed.”