Page 187 of Burn of the Everflame

Gods, I’d never been prouder.

“You learned illusions,” I remarked as I walked to Diem’s side.

“I asked Alixe to teach me after I saw you use them.”

“You could have asked me.”

“Hers are better.”

Hidden deep beneath her somber tone, there was a glimpse of that teasing spirit I adored. To see it glimmer and fade so quickly left my heart a ragged mess.

“I have better tricks than moons and stars, you know,” I said.

Her finger brushed against mine, the only trace of vulnerability she would allow.

Alixe cleared her throat as she approached, and Diem’s hand jerked back. The crack in her armor sealed shut, her stoic face an iron shield.

“Your Majesty,” Alixe began, “when the guards were clearing the debris from the fire, one of them found this.”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out what appeared to be a piece of burnt rock, but as the charred lump rolled in her palm, pinpricks of light twinkled on its surface.

“Raw godstone,” Alixe confirmed. I expected excitement or relief, but her features were grim. “It was only found in one specific place. A tent . . .”

The silence decayed in her hesitation, rotting and turning to something sinister and bleak.

“The tent belonged to an elderly man that Runa and Enness picked up on the road. A mortal. He was asleep when the fire hit.” Alixe winced. “He’s the only person unaccounted for.”

Diem’s body gave a violent shudder, like a piece of her soul was sawing itself off and shoving away—then, inexplicably, she began to run. Alixe and I shared a confused stare and chased her outside the palace, where Auralie and Cordellia were walking back to the Guardians’ camp.

“What did you mean?” Diem screamed.

The two women turned. “Diem,” Auralie said, “what’s going on?”

“Your notes on treating godstone wounds. You left a note in the margins.”

“Those notes are a decade old. I don’t remember what⁠—”

Diem seized her mother’s shoulders. “You said that godstone equaled death. I need to know what that meant.”

Auralie thought for a moment and frowned. “I found a book about the Everflame in the Umbros markets that said mortals used to lay dead bodies at its roots as an offering. The book claimed that after the body caught fire and burned, the soil looked like a starry sky. That reminded me of godstone. I thought perhaps that’s why its poison only affected Descended—because they never made an offering, so the Old Gods punished them with death.”

Diem let go of her mother and lurched back, her face an ashen grey. She waved me off when I moved to follow, and we all watched as her head sunk low and she disappeared inside her tent.

Alixe glanced at the glittering black rock in her hand, then looked at me. Understanding passed between our stares. There would be no more raw godstone to work with. If a life was the cost to make it, that was a price Diem would never willingly pay.

Auralie pulled me aside. “Luther, what was that about?”

I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling like I could either burn the continent down or sleep for a century, but nothing in between. “Another setback Diem doesn’t need.”

She gazed at her daughter’s tent, looking pained. “How is she? With everything that happened last night, is she . . . ?”

“Bad,” I confessed. I was growing tired of secrets, and she knew Diem too well to believe a lie. “How are you?”

“My only concern is my children. They’ve lost so much.”

“You lost Andrei, too.” She was practically squeezing her jaw closed to keep her protests back, and my stare turned harsh. “You think you’re helping them by hiding your pain? You’re only teaching them to do it, too.”

“How can I burden my children with my feelings when I’m the one who brought Vance and Henri into our lives?” A flare of rage flashed across her face. “I’ll never forgive either of them for what they’ve done.”