She barked out a laugh. “Okay, if you don’t want to talk about it that’s fine. But you don’t have to lie.”
I sent her a sharp glare. “I’m not lying. I truly don’t have any idea why they took me. Maybe they’re mistaking me for someone else.”
Even as I said it, I knew it wasn’t true. This had to do with Gran, and I cursed her for her secrets. They were no longer protecting me like she’d intended. Now they were just damning me.
I tugged at my long hair, which whipped around in a frenzy. “I think it might have to do with my gran. She went missing a few months ago, but she harbored a lot of secrets, ones I could never get her todivulge. I think maybe the sky king and queen have some sort of vendetta against her, and they know I’m her granddaughter, so they’re after me now.”
Emory let out a low whistle. “Paying for your grandmother’s sins? Well, that’s shit.”
I didn’t disagree.
“They’ll come for you, you know. You’ll get an audience with His and Her Majesty, and you’ll either live to tell the tale, or...” She tipped her head to the iron stakes lining the flat rooftop below. “You’ll get thrown down there.”
My breath hitched. Oh, blood and skies.
“Have you had an audience with them?” I asked.
She shook her head, that white-blond hair twisting in the wind. “No.” She scoffed. “I tried to tell the guards who I was, but they refused to believe me. They’ll find out soon enough.”
I wondered what that meant.
“What did you do, then?” My voice grew curious. “To get thrown in here?”
Emory clucked her tongue. “Made a stupid mistake.” She leaned forward, bending a knee and hooking an arm around it. “I was after something, a powerful object. But someone else was after it, too, and that made me act rashly. I wasn’t careful.” She shrugged. “I trespassed onto some sacred ancient ground to get to it first, not sticking to my original plan of staking out the area. It was foolish, and now here I am.”
“What powerful object? What were you going to do with it?”
She gathered her hair back, even as wisps escaped with the wind. “I’m a collector of sorts. I find hard-to-find objects, sometimes for others. Sometimes for myself. Though it’s been difficult to get away lately.”
“Get away from what?”
“Have you heard of the bolt of Valoris?”
She’d ignored my question. She’d ignored multiple questions, and that fact hadn’t escaped me. Then her words hit me. “Spirit Sky’s bolt? That’s what you were after? You mean to tell me you know where it is, that it’s real?”
Despite the depictions of Spirit Sky with his bolt, the monuments, the lore, no one had been sure it was real since it had never been found.
“Well it’s not officially real until I find it,” she said. “But yes, I believe all the spirits’ weapons are real. And if anyone can find them, it’s me.”
My mouth dropped open. “But why? Why do you do this? Is it for the gold?”
“No.” Her voice was flat.
I’d touched a nerve.
“It’s history,” she breathed. “It’s important. There are those who would silence history, who don’t want us to know the truth about the spirits, about those of the Old World. But history doesn’t lie. I’m uncovering the truths, and I’m going to share them with the world one day. If I’m ever allowed.” She crossed her arms and sank back against the iron bars.
My brows furrowed, and despite all the other things I had to worry about, I couldn’t help but be intrigued. “What truths about the spirits?”
She perked up at that. “I think I’ve found evidence that the Seven Spirits didn’t leave this world of their own accord. I don’t think they’re hiding like everyone believes. I think they might have been trapped by those of the Old World, and in turn, trapping them is what caused the Old World’s ultimate demise.”
No one knew what, exactly, had happened to those of the Old World. All we had was what history told us: the journals, the artifacts, the books. We knew there was once a world of elementals like us who worshipped the Seven Spirits. That the spirits appeared regularly to them, ruled over them. But the Old World came to an end abruptly, the Seven Spirits disappeared, and no one knew why. We had theories, of course, but nothing concrete. If what Emory was saying was true, that would change everything. That would make the spirits far more dangerous than we’d thought, not something to worship but something to fear.
Exactly what Gran had always said.
“But then how did we get our powers?” I asked. “If the spirits are trapped, why would we be able to harness their magic?”
Our direct ancestors found the continent of Arathia a thousand years after the Old World had been destroyed, overgrown and empty. They brought life to it, and slowly their powers manifested. They became the original rulers and brought more people to the continent,practicing rituals that they’d found in ancient texts, which gave everyone powers. Those rituals had long since been locked away, forbidden for anyone to practice. Now magic was hereditary, not something you could do a ritual to gain. At least that’s what I’d read.
