A Shadow in the Ember (Flesh and Fire 1)

I wouldn’t have expected The Luxe to be so sedate at this time of night. The gardens were almost always full of people. Tiny bumps prickled my skin as I walked down the stone sidewalk, staying close to the hedges that obscured the gardens.

A man suddenly darted out onto the path several feet ahead of me. I jerked back a step. All I could make out in the glow of the streetlamp was that he wore light-colored breeches, and his white shirt was untucked. He shot past me, seemingly unaware that I was there. I twisted at the waist, watching him disappear into the night.

The sound came again, this time shorter and hoarser. Slowly, I turned around and crept forward, passing a townhome where curtains billowed out from windows, stirred by the warm breeze. My hand drifted inside the slit of my gown to my dagger.

“Do it,” the raspy voice broke the silence. “I will never—”

A flash of bright, silvery light spilled out onto the sidewalk and into the empty lane as I reached the corner of the townhome. What in the…?

Telling myself that I needed to mind my business, I did the exact opposite and peered around the side of the building.

My lips parted, but I made no sound. Only because I knew better. But I wished I had minded my business.

In the courtyard of the darkened townhome next door, a man was on his knees, his arms outstretched, and his body bent backward at an angle that wasn’t natural. The tendons in his neck stood out in stark relief, and his skin…it looked lit from within. A whiteish light filled the veins of his face, the inside of his throat, and ran down into his chest and stomach.

Standing before him was a…it was a goddess. Under the moonlight, her pale blue gown was nearly as translucent as my wedding gown. The dress gathered low over the swells of her breasts and was cinched tightly at the waist and hips, ending in a pool of shimmering fabric around her feet. A glittering sapphire brooch pinned the diaphanous material over one shoulder. Her skin was the color of smooth ivory. Her hair glossy and jet-black.

Spotting a god or goddess in the capital wasn’t exactly a shock. They often found their way into the mortal realm, usually out of what I imagined was extreme boredom or the need to carry out some business on behalf of the Primal they served—who rarely, if ever, crossed over.

From what I’d been taught about Iliseeum, their hierarchy was similar to that of the mortal one. Instead of kingdoms, each Primal ruled over a Court, and in place of noble titles, they had gods who answered to their Courts. Ten Primals held Court in Iliseeum. Ten that ruled over everything that lay between the skies and the seas, from love to birth, war and peace, life, and…yes, even death.

But what shocked me was that this goddess had her hand on the man’s forehead. She was the source of the white light inside his veins.

The man’s mouth stretched open, but no sound came from his throat. Only silvery-white light. It poured from his mouth and eyes, crackling and spitting as it shot up into the sky, stretching higher than the townhome.

Dear gods, it was eather, the very essence of the gods and the Primals. I’d never seen one use it like this, nor did I think it would ever be necessary to kill a mortal in this way. It simply wasn’t needed.

The goddess lowered her hand, and the eather vanished, casting the courtyard once more into shadows and fractured moonlight. The man…he didn’t make a sound as he fell forward. The goddess stepped out of his way, letting him fall upon the grass face-first as she looked down at her hand, her full lips curling in distaste.

I knew the man was dead. I knew the eather had done that, even if I hadn’t known it was possible to use eather in such a manner. Warmth gathered under my skin, and it took everything in me to push the urge down.

The goddess’s head swung toward the open door of the townhome. A god walked out, his skin the same pearlescent shade, though his hair was nearly as long as hers, falling down his back like liquid night. He carried something in his hand as he walked down the short set of steps, something small and pale, lifeless and…

Horror turned my skin to ice, even in the heat of Carsodonia’s summer. The god carried a…a swaddled babe by its feet. Nausea rose so swiftly, it clogged my throat.

I needed to turn around and truly start minding my business. I did not need the goddess or god to notice me. I had nothing to do with the nightmare happening here. I didn’t need to see more than I already had.