Page 164 of Burn of the Everflame

38

DIEM

The flight back to Lumnos was grim.

Zalaric and Taran had decided to stay with the half-mortals, and I’d ordered Tybold to escort them safely home. Teller had pleaded for a little more time in the library, especially when I told him we would never be coming back, but I couldn’t shake the crazed look in Symond’s eyes as he’d choked the life from my lungs. And the memory that had slipped free . . .

Symond had lost someone he cared for to godstone, and he blamed me for their loss. Though he’d stopped short of killing me, I wasn’t willing to gamble that he’d extend the same restraint if he had the chance to take someone I loved from me.

So Teller and I stole as many books as we could carry, and we fled across the sea.

Beneath us, Sorae trembled with a whimper. Though our bond had gone dark from the flameroot, I knew she had to be exhausted. The flight to Umbros was long, and we’d barely touched down before taking off again. I had no magic to heal her aching muscles or conjure a helpful wind as she fought through the pain to get us home.

“Almost there, girl,” I murmured, stroking her scales. “Look, I can already see the Lumnos coast. When I get my magic back, I’ll grow you all the apples you can eat.”

She let out a weak but happy trill.

“I bet none of the other gryverns could have done this,” Teller said loudly behind me. “They would have had to stop to rest.”

Energized by his praise, Sorae gave a few powerful beats of her wings, sending us soaring back above the clouds.

I twisted around, silently mouthing thank you to my brother. His answering smile faded fast as his eyes dropped to the dark, hand-shaped bruises on my neck.

“You alright?” he asked

I shrugged, not bothering to mask my weary defeat. Sorae wasn’t the only one scrounging for her last bits of resolve. I was so very tired—tired of making mistakes, tired of letting people down, tired of guilt and shame and every success dwarfed by a larger failure. Tired of secrets I didn’t want to keep and burdens I didn’t want to carry.

Tired of running away.

“Did you find anything in the library?” I asked.

“Not really. I only had time to skim a few books.”

My heart sank. “Maybe the Centenaries will come around and we’ll get another chance.”

He glanced at the swollen lump on my temple. “Yeah. Maybe.”

I could force my way back. Once my magic returned, I could compel the Centenaries to stand down as long as I pleased. But what happened in that room had shaken me more than I wanted to admit.

Could I have changed the outcome of Ophiucae’s attack if I’d stayed in Umbros? Each time I’d faced him directly, he’d walked away. And the people who wasted away from godstone poison in the weeks after—that, I knew with certainty I could have stopped. Its effects worked so slowly, even a visit after the island might have helped. The Ignios King had held on that long. What if some Umbrosians had, too?

I’d been avoiding Umbros out of shame. Now my shame was so deep, I wasn’t sure I could ever come back.

My successor will be your most difficult adversary. They will stand in the way of what you need to do. They will drive a wedge between you and those you love, they will cost you a terrible price, and there’s a strong chance they’ll put you in a premature grave.

Yrselle’s warnings to me about her heir—about me—had been tumbling in my thoughts the whole way home. With her dying words, she’d urged me to heed them, even though she’d spoken of an unchangeable fate. Was it a final jab at my failures, or was there one last piece of advice hidden in her words?

“I did find something,” Teller said slowly. “I’m not sure it’s even meaningful. In Montios’s journal, she said the mortals had restricted access to Coeurîle. She said it had been that way for hundreds of years before the Kindred arrived.”

“They probably didn’t want anyone to do what the Kindred did and cut the Everflame down,” I said.

Teller shook his head. “They didn’t restrict everyone. Only pregnant women. Apparently, the mortals were afraid of any children being born on the island’s soil.”

I frowned, something in his words tugging at my memory. “Did she say why?”

“Something about an old superstition, but she didn’t say what it was.”

We continued on in silence as I ruminated on his words and what they might mean—and wishing more than anything that I could turn around and fly right back. The sky grew darker and Lumnos approached, and we finally touched down on the palace grounds. We barely made it off Sorae’s back before she collapsed on her side, heaving with tired pants.