Chapter 21 #3
Lia loathed the condescending glare the older woman sent to her mom. She may have had issues, but Lia wasn’t about to let someone else belittle Mom like that. Lia wanted to smack the look right off her powder-pressed face. The suddenness of the urge was startling.
Lia ignored the impulse. “They want power, a greed that’s generational like our gifts.”
Mikayla nodded. “Only Flamehearts like us can access the spheres. From our research into known Seeker activity, they’re trying to use modern technology to advance their agenda.”
A connection clicked in Lia’s mind, snagging on Mikayla’s earlier reference to the tech company ImaginX.
Her mom had adamantly refused to allow any of their products in the house only a few days ago—specifically, the MemoryBank.
Lia’s breath hitched. It could record dreams…
a mockery of what Flamehearts had access to.
“ImaginX is Seeker-run,” she blurted out.
Mikayla nodded. “Started up three years ago, pushing product this year without much success. Well, until now, given those infuriating advertisements they keep plastering all over the—”
“Wait a moment,” Kayce cut in. “We passed by their display table in the mall.”
Those tablets, the MemoryBanks, had displayed various scenes, dreams captured and recreated on film.
“He’s right. One of the MemoryBanks showed a dragon.” A shudder skittered down Lia’s spine. Better that the dragon had appeared than whatever had hid in the darkness, baring only its teeth.
No one replied, the silence thickening and a grim heaviness pervading the air.
“When you were there,” Mikayla finally said, her stare narrowing at Lia. “What a coincidence.”
“What are you implying?” Her mom stood. “If you have something to accuse my daughter of, say it plainly.”
“Ladies, let’s focus on the Seekers and leave petty grievances aside,” Reynaldo said as he stepped to block each other from view. “If they have finally figured out how to use technology to reach the Emperium, the situation is more dire than we realize.”
Mirel toyed with her hair, her mouth twisted to the side. She didn’t look entirely convinced. Neither did Adrian, still fidgeting with his notebook.
But the pieces of it aligned clearly for Lia. Seekers had waited for a time such as this, a time when creation was in the palm of their hand. The uptick in creations, the launch of the MemoryBank, Papa’s death—it was all far too coincidental.
Her papa’s death was Seeker related. Not that the Order knew that.
To them, it was just a tragic accident. But what if the proof her papa found had to do with these MemoryBanks?
What if the gremlin, the dragon, were the Seekers’ fault—but also, what if they weren’t the first creations the Seekers at ImaginX had let loose?
A powerful company like that would definitely have the resources to take someone out.
Resolve filled her. She needed to find that evidence.
Lia looked between them all, now discussing—arguing—amongst themselves how the dragon from the MemoryBank had even gotten into the mall.
For an Order honored with a gift to travel the human imagination and preserve its secrets, they didn’t get along very well.
But then again, what did you expect when you got a bunch of bookworms together?
They weren’t really known for their social skills.
And it sounded like their true purpose had been dealt with by generations prior.
Not to mention the odd tension between Mom and Mikayla.
History had clearly soured between them.
No wonder Papa kept his research into the weakening rifts secret.
Leo cleared his throat. “We can speak of Seeker theories later, since those matters truly pertain to official Order members. As such, despite the issues that have risen, the sorrows we have endured, this is also a time of great joy.” He beamed at Lia. “Aurelia Corvine has Sparked.”
Melancholy swelled inside Lia, a living thing that ebbed and flowed like the tide.
Papa would have wanted to see this. Longed for it, based off that note in her journal.
Kayce’s hand returned to her knee and anchored her.
She finally moved to cover it with her own.
Lia desperately wanted to make it right with him, and it seemed that he did, too.
Mirel took out a black leather folder. She passed Lia a document, causing Kayce to retract his hand. The gold-embossed sigil at the top of the page was a nib of an antique fountain pen surrounded by a sunburst.
Lia scanned the text, noting the empty lines at the bottom. “It’s a contract?”
“Yes, but we like ‘oath’ much better. There’s a certain level of discretion that this field requires. Especially considering the current political and economic climate riled up by the Seekers,” Mirel explained.
Lia read the tenets, Kayce looking over her shoulder.
Since the Ember was bestowed upon the Order, Flamehearts across time have agreed upon the following precepts for the good of the Emperium and Earth, and all who dwell within:
One shall assist the Order in a duty best aligned with the individual Flameheart. All duties serve the central goal of the Order as given to them.
One shall Transcribe a being back to the spheres at the earliest opportunity and report the incident to their chapter’s historian.
One shall not seek the Devourer, nor aid him in his aims for total destruction of the cosmos as we know it.
One shall not associate with or assist a known Seeker.
One shall not take a mortal lacking an Ember to the Emperium.
One shall not develop a relationship with a being from the Emperium past amiability.
One shall not spend more than one-half of the year cumulatively within the Emperium.
The numbered items made sense, mostly. But a few snagged Lia’s gut. “What happens when you spend more than half a year in the Emperium?” she asked.
“Studies show that humans spend more than a third of their lives sleeping,” Veera explained, actively using her hands as she spoke. “When Flamehearts spend additional time in the spheres, it becomes harder to return to our true home.”
While the words made sense, Lia couldn’t fight the unease they prompted. Like something didn’t quite fit. She looked back at the list. “How can one of us take a normal person to the Emperium?”
Veera shuddered. “Oh, it’s horrific. We feel a bit of vertigo when we step through the portal. Then there’s the motion sickness, but you get used to navigating with the pen after a while. Normal humans get violently ill. They can’t take it.”
“Must lack that spark of life,” Reynaldo joked, earning several groans.
Lia raised a brow. “We make portals appear?”
“Not in a spinning wheel of sparklers kind of way,” Mirel said. “Too Hollywood.”
Leo pulled out the wand Lia had seen him use the other day. “Our pens, which we forge when we are initiated, not only allow us to Transcribe beings back into the spheres, but to draw open the door to access it ourselves.” Leo grinned. “A bit like a Swiss-army knife for the literary-inclined.”
“Handy,” Lia mumbled, looking at the oath again.
Kayce spoke up. “Forgive me, but what’s ‘amiability’ mean here?”
“Friendship, you ignorant sword-monger.” Without thinking, Lia jabbed him in the side. But perhaps the quick barb would melt the residual tension. That it would forgo the conversation looming between them. Hopefully.
Unlikely.
“I have the tutelage of royalty, thank you very much!” He glared at her as he rubbed his chest. “A word or two may have escaped my notice.” So much for that, his words holding a bit more aggression in his defense than normal. Granted, he was still injured, her memory lapsing. And her judgement.
Aggression hid her embarrassment. “Sure, when you weren’t slipping out for some trouble or another.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” His eyes flashed, and she practically saw their earlier argument replay in them. Like being the one who leaps into danger at the expense of others was wrong.
“It is, according to the standard expectations for education.” And that of being realistic.
“Who decided such standards?” Where was the Aurelia I knew?
“Well, everyone—” Can you just drop it—
Leo chuckled, his baritone laughter breaking off Lia’s words.
Her mom cleared her throat for their attention. “This rule means no…romantic relations can happen between a Flameheart and a being from the Emperium. None. Friendship only.”
Lia’s mouth gaped open, cheeks flaming. “You don’t—you’re not implying that—” She darted a glance at Kayce, whose neck sported a shade of red. “We’re just friends!”
He coughed, eyeing the floor. “Friends.” Then, in a tone so quiet she almost didn’t catch it, “If anything, it’s Terranth you should worry about.”
That dance in Castle Finerda flashed in her mind, but it didn’t fill her with longing. It only tightened her throat, forcing her gaze anywhere and everywhere—but at Kayce.
“Need we explain why such a relation is forbidden?” Veera asked tactfully.
Both teens shook their heads.
“The first Order chapters had many mistakes to learn from,” Adrian said, the tips of his ears reddening. “We follow their lead. Save us all a world of trouble.”
“That’a boy, Adrian!” Reynaldo laughed, clapping the squirrel on the back so hard he nearly dropped his notebook. “You made a joke!”
The room mumbled groans and agreements. Her mom remained silent, watching them all as though outside the window. Separate. From the pieces Lia gathered, her mom had removed herself from the Order for some time. Why? Another puzzle with missing pieces. Maybe a separate one altogether.
Mikayla cleared her throat. “While the joking is all well and good, need I draw attention to the one precept dear Lia has so conveniently ignored?” She crossed her arms, voice brittle. “One shall Transcribe a being back to the Emperium at the earliest opportunity.”
Lia hadn’t ignored it. No, as soon as she had read those words, they churned in her gut, burning from the inside. She clenched the paper tighter. She didn’t reach for Kayce, not with the last tenet lingering in her rosy cheeks.
You have to be stable, dependable Lia. Couldn’t she try to be—
Don’t make waves, they might not like getting jostled. Let the Order see your value, that you can master this.
Leo rose. “Now, Mikayla. The dragon is gone, the gremlin disappeared. Kayce is here through no fault of Aurelia’s.”
“But the fact of the matter remains. He needs to go back.”
“The matter is a bit more complicated,” Leo said.
“Do I not get a say in my autonomy?” Kayce crossed his arms, but winced as if remembering his stitches. “I would be hard pressed to leave unless Aurelia demanded it. And even then, that’s questionable.”
His declaration softened the tension in Lia’s chest. How could he be frustrated with her one moment, then rise to her defense the next?
Mikayla’s jaw twitched. “You don’t belong here.”
“I could say the same of you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
The prince shrugged. “You’re positively dour.”
“Dour?” Mikayla huffed. “What is this, a Dickens novella?”
Her mom cracked a smile. “Lia was a fan of A Christmas Carol, even outside the holiday season. May have influenced Kayce a tad.”
The room erupted into debate. All Lia could catch were fragments, those arguing for Kayce to be returned to Norenth drowning out those who demanded an exception.
It was all too much, and her heart had already decided.
“No,” Lia stated with a quiet firmness. All eyes fell on her.
She steeled herself, then stood, paper trembling.
“He goes where I go while I figure this new life out.” She looked at Mirel, lifting the oath.
“I won’t sign this without that accommodation.
Please.” Her words rang out, hesitant but clear.
Kayce stood alongside her, and from the corner of her eye, she caught his appreciative stare.
It wasn’t her full strength—but it was enough.
A gentle prodding. Not enough to shame her mom, to upset the Order, but enough to voice what Lia needed.
Mirel and Leo shared a look before they turned to her mom. As if the decision rested with her. Words and feelings unspoken flowed between them.
“Kayce can remain with you, for now, if being a Flameheart is what you want,” her mom said, her gaze intent. “You have always had a choice in this. I never meant to keep that from you, leave you in the dark for too long. This is your decision to make.”
Her choice. To accept the gift, the life her papa so clearly had wanted for her. A life in which she could see Norenth, truly see it in a way she had always longed for. She bit her lip. There were dangers. Responsibilities. Oaths to keep.
Wiping her clammy palms on her jeans, Lia didn’t have to look at Kayce to know he was already showcasing a slight smirk that spelled eagerness and trouble. She allowed a small one of her own. “I’m ready,” she said. “I’ll sign it.”
All watched as her mom pulled out a pen similar in fashion to Leo’s. Though where his was larger and plain, her mom’s held swirls of stars and motes engraved along the sides. The small crystal embedded in the nib was a soft peridot, yellowish-green in transparency.
“You must use mine before you get your own. Another family thing.” She crossed to her daughter, laying the paper on the table before taking her hand. “This will sting a bit.”
It was all the warning she gave before pricking Lia’s finger, light flaring and heat searing.
Lia winced as blood welled. Precious drops clung to the tip of her mom’s pen when she took it.
Lia signed her name and handed the oath to Mirel.
As she glanced down at her hand, the blood disappeared to leave behind a sunburst scar on her fingertip.
“Now what?”
“You need to see the Smith.” Mirel’s bubbly demeanor had returned. “It’s something all Flamehearts who sign the oath must do, the irrevocable step in accepting their gift and the duties that come with it.”
Taking a copper curl, Lia wound it around her fingers. “And where exactly is he?”
Everyone snickered at that, some with a few fond cringes. That didn’t bode well.
Leo spoke. “That lovable fiend is in the Sphere of Malletor, home to the Forge. Many a powerful artifact has come from his flames and furnaces, including our pens.”
A smile bloomed on Lia’s lips as she looked to him, to her mom. “I’m going into the Emperium?”
Everyone nodded, and Lia’s curiosity mounted. Finally, she could scour for some hint at what her papa was looking into. Whatever had scared Seekers and ImaginX enough to silence him. She could be another step closer to bringing him justice.