Page 295 of Burn of the Everflame

“Symond, this could cost us everything we have left,” Drusila said. “I have to protect my child.”

Symond flinched.

“Think of Yrselle,” I begged. “She wanted you to⁠—”

“Yrselle is dead,” Symond shouted. His glare snapped to me. “Because of you. They’re all dead because of you. Our people, our gryvern, my—” He stopped himself, then stood and knocked his chair aside, sending it tumbling end over end until it cracked and fell apart. “Fuck you and your war,” he snarled, then stormed from the room. Drusila sighed, looking as if she might say more, but after a moment, she rose and followed him out.

“Wonderful,” Garath muttered. “Your leadership will go down in the history books . . . if there’s anyone left to write them.”

Aemonn shot to his feet. “I will fight,” he announced.

“Sit back down,” Garath sniped. “Your magic is pathetic, and you’ve barely lifted a blade. You’ll embarrass the Corbois name.” He pointed at Taran. “If anyone’s going to represent our family in battle, it’s him.”

Taran looked stunned. Garath was toying with his sons, dangling his respect to drag Taran back into the fold and make Aemonn jealous. This was no doubt how he’d controlled them both for years. He’d made his love, or at least his approval, something that could be earned through obedience to him and him alone—and something he was willing to bestow on only one son at a time.

Taran and Aemonn exchanged a wordless look. I couldn’t tell whether Garath’s plan was working. There was no fondness in the way the brothers locked stares—more of an air of challenge, a test, each of them waiting to see who broke first.

“I’ll fight,” Taran said, standing.

My heart sank, and so did Aemonn’s shoulders.

“But I’m not fighting for House Corbois,” Taran went on. “I’m fighting for my family. The Bellators. Zalaric.” His gaze returned to Aemonn. “And my brother.”

Taran’s tone rose on the final word and lingered—a question. A hope.

Aemonn turned to Garath. His hands were visibly trembling, color draining from his face. His usual callous confidence made a strange kind of sense now—no threat could rattle him, because no enemy had ever loomed larger than his father.

“When I killed that mortal boy, the accident in Lumnos City—I pretended not to care, because you told me that a Corbois shows no weakness. And when I begged you to help me find his family so I could at least repay them for their loss, you said, ‘A mortal’s death is beneath a Corbois’s notice.’ If all that’s true . . . then I’m no Corbois, either.” Aemonn’s gaze rose to me. “I owe a life debt to that boy. This is how I repay it.”

“I suppose this means I have to fight, too,” Zalaric said, gesturing to Taran and Aemonn with a sigh. “Someone has to keep these two focused on killing the enemy instead of each other.”

“I’ll fight, as well,” Remis said, rising.

“Are you certain, brother?” Garath said. “You won’t last long without any mag—” He placed a hand over his mouth, smiling smugly. “Blessed Kindred, I almost said too much.”

“Without any magic, you mean,” Remis said. “Since I lost mine to a bonded bargain.”

An audible gasp rose from the Twenty Houses. Even Garath looked surprised. While he’d controlled his sons with cruelty, he’d controlled his brother with secrets. It appeared all three of them were ready to be free.

“Perhaps I won’t last long, brother.” Remis said the word with a cutting snap. “But our ancestors did not choose a phoenix as our sigil for us to cower. These old bones are not yet too feeble to swing a sword.” He looked at Luther. “And I will always come when my family calls.”

The other House representatives exchanged looks, none moving to stand. House Corbois was not the influential force it had once been, and with the Embers’ leadership still so new, no one was eager to commit their families to war.

“The people of Emarion have done horrible, unforgivable things to each other,” I said. “There is so much to be ashamed of, and so many reasons to hate. But look around this room today—everyone has a voice and a vote. No one is hoarding power for themselves, no group is forced into submission because a different group says it’s their place. We have the power to decide our own fate.” I looked from face to face. “I know you’re scared of how this ends. I’m asking you to see this as a beginning instead. The start of a new Emarion, a future we can be proud of.”

Norwick Benette gave me a weary look. “Some days I think you kept me alive just to get me killed in a more painful way.” He pushed his chair back and rose. “House Benette will fight.”

The Althiena woman half stood, her legs remaining bent as if they might betray her and fold at any moment. “I suppose we must, too.”

The Hanoverre representative gave a resigned grunt. “Might as well, since we’re dead either way.”

Not exactly enthusiastic endorsements, but it was the momentum we needed. With the largest Houses joining in, the others rose in quick succession.

“I’ll speak with the Ignios noblemen,” Nidara said. “I’ll convince as many to join us as I can.”

“I’ll go back to my village and do the same,” said the Unhoused Descended’s representative.

“So will I,” Henri’s father said. “I’m no good with a blade, but I know who in Mortal City is.”