Ember: Echoes of Ashes - Book 1

by Jessica Schmidt

  “Who?” asked Laderic. “What did you say?” Emery had frozen, hoping and praying she had heard wrong.

  Elwyse cleared his throat, turning for the first time to look at Emery and Laderic through the cell bars. “The canidae serve the nightwalkers. I believe they are more like mercenaries. However, the nightwalkers themselves… they serve Caine, the celestial of chaos.”

  The room seemed to take on an immediate chill. The silence was crippling. Emery’s wings stopped beating, and she landed roughly on the ground, holding her hand over her heart. Shocked, Laderic knelt beside her. He put his hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?” he asked, concerned. She was breathing hard. When she looked up, her eyes were filled with terror.

  “That’s not possible,” she stated, trying to convince herself more than anyone else. Her lungs felt shallow, as though she could not take a full breath.

  “What? What does that mean? What’s the big deal?” Laderic was genuinely confused.

  Emery stared at him. “If you took any stock in the gods and what they represent, you would not take this news so lightly.” She looked at Elwyse, pleading. “How do you know this? How can you know for sure?”

  The vision overcame Elwyse again, and he had to blink it away. “They… showed him to me,” he whispered, voice shaking. Tears gathered in his eyes but did not fall.

  Paralyzing fear gripped the fae woman. “But Alleria! Why does he want Alleria dead? Please! You must tell us,” Emery begged, but Elwyse could only shrug.

  “I don’t know that. I only know it has something to do with his own well-being. Apparently, Alleria is the key to his demise in some way, shape, or form.” He took a deep breath, exhaling shakily. “These nightwalkers have seen this… demon. They’ve been in his very presence. I tried to warn you before, their powers are not normal. Nightwalkers should not be able to use this kind of magic. They were using their powers to try to... breed more nightwalkers from the magic spring beneath Ewa’faita. But they had no success. They can shape the earth with their darkness and even conjure this consuming, black fire just by—”

  “What did you say?” Laderic said, feeling a cold chill trickle down his spine.

  “I said they were using their power to clone more nightwalkers, but it—”

  “No,” Laderic said. “That last part.”

  Elwyse frowned. “They can conjure black fire, something that only fire-dancers should be able to do.”

  Black fire. Laderic’s head was spinning. He felt sick, holding a hand out to steady himself against the wall. That can’t be right. It can’t be. But logic told him otherwise. He had only thought, at first, that these nightwalkers were simply another group of spectrals causing trouble. Not that they were the very same ones, the same ones who—

  “Emery, we should get back,” he said, monotonous, interrupting his own train of thought. He turned away, heading out of the cell as if he were fleeing a monster’s presence.

  “But, Laderic, I still have more questions! You can’t leave now!” she called, pleading with him to no avail. “Laderic!”

  But he was already gone.

  Midiga had locked herself in the room she shared with Laderic. She couldn’t bear to face anyone after her outburst. An internal conversation thrashing in her mind was ripping her apart:

  What is wrong with me?

  Nothing, you did the right thing.

  But Prysmi is right, it didn’t matter that it was a canid.

  Yes, it does! They’re all murders. They can’t be trusted—

  There is no possible, logical way that all canidae are untrustworthy!

  Yes… They killed Dad…

  That doesn’t mean all canidae are bad!

  They tried to kill you before… They’re coming for you now… You can’t trust any of them!

  Suddenly, there was a brisk knock at the door. Midiga’s train of thought paused, and she snapped her head toward the door, heart pounding in her chest. But there was no voice, no follow-up knock. Slowly, she stood, unlocking the door and peeking outside.

  On the ground, tied together with a thin piece of cloth, was a glistening new longbow and quiver filled with arrows. The bow was black, etched with beautiful carvings of soaring birds and leaping deer. Its polish shone even in the darkness of the house. Lying on top of the bow was a letter, written in beautiful cursive handwriting:

  Midiga,

  Though I am upset with you, I also want you to be safe. Take this bow and use it well. Though it was fashioned by a canid, I can assure you, on my life, it is of the highest quality.

  I have not known you long, but I am still very upset by what happened today. My soul is aching. I know that this is not who you are, deep down. Something must have happened to you to make you feel this way, and I hope that one day, you’ll talk to me about it.

  Your friend,

  Prysmi

  The tears came then, as she finished reading the letter, stroking the bow in her lap with tender love and admiration. She sat on the bed, holding her face in her paws. Tears slid off her whiskers, wetting the letter with her sobs.

  “I will,” she whispered into the darkness.

  “I will.”

  Alleria lay in bed that night, unable to sleep a wink. Reia was fast asleep beside her, twitching ever so slightly in her dreams. Emery hadn’t returned from Strita.

  Royalty… It was hard to comprehend. And she still couldn’t shake the ominous tone of Ysmira’s voice at the end of their conversation as she had spoken about the elvish kingdom of Nara’jainita. Why can I use magic if the others can’t?

  And the gods, was she somehow connected to them? It was all too much to think about, though she was unclear about her own fate, one thing was certain—she had to help Ysmira uncover the mysteries of their people. To uncover the truth. Too many things just weren’t adding up.

  I guess now after all this is over, we’ll head to Ewa’jainito and try to find that map. She wondered for a moment what would happen if Ysmira was wrong. What if she didn’t have royal blood? What if they couldn’t find the map? Where would they go? What other leads would they have? She sighed, rolling on her side in bed and clutching Reia to her chest. The fox was warm, helping to soothe her thoughts. She kissed Reia’s soft head, closing her eyes.

  Whatever happens, I will discover who I am, she decided, feeling sleep beginning to overtake her.

  I will.

  Emery found Laderic behind Mavark’s house, sharpening his daggers on a whetstone beside the barn. The horses were skittish, shying away from him as he did so as if they could sense something was wrong. He was deep in thought, jumping with surprise when Emery touched his arm. He grabbed his dagger, aiming it at her, before sighing with relief. “Emery, please don’t do that when I have a weapon in my hand. I almost killed you.”

  “What was that back there!” the fae exploded, jabbing her finger into his chest. Laderic stood and took a few steps back, putting his hands in the air.

  “There wasn’t anything else to talk about. Those nightwalkers are delusional, thinking they serve some mystical entity of chaos.” He spat the last word out sarcastically.

  Emery glared at him. “I should have known you of all people would take this lightly, what, with your disdain for the gods.” She spun around, starting toward the house. “I”m going to tell Alleria. She needs to know what she’s getting into.”

  Laderic leapt forward, grabbing Emery’s arm and holding her back. She jerked herself out of his grasp. “Get off me! Who do you think you are?”

  “You can’t tell Alleria,” he said, pleading. He lowered his hand away from her.

  “Why shouldn’t I?” Emery demanded.

  “She doesn’t need the extra stress,” he tried to explain. “I mean, I don’t think this Caine guy is that big of a deal, but I don’t know everything.” It was as if the words were poisonous coming out of his mouth. They tasted bad on his tongue. “If he does turn out to be a problem, we can tell her then. But, for now, that’s just going to make her p
anic more. I mean, she just found out she’s possibly elvish royalty and all that. She’s got a lot on her plate at the moment.”

  Emery froze, debating. He has a point. “She has to find out eventually,” she started. Laderic nodded quickly in agreement.

  “And that’s when she’ll need to know. But, right now, I think it would be counterproductive to give her something else to worry about. Besides, if we stop these nightwalkers in a couple of nights, she might not have to worry about the celestial at all.”

  “I don’t know about that…” Emery warned—but she conceded. “Okay, I won’t tell her, if you promise to tell her before she eventually gets to Nara’jainita.”

  Laderic nodded vigorously. “Of course,” he lied, breathing a sigh of relief.

  Emery turned back around, glancing over her shoulder before she started flying away. “I hope this is what’s best for her,” she warned ominously. Then, she turned and flew off toward Mavark’s house. The wind gusted, droning with an unsettling howl. When it stopped, it left naught behind but silence.

  Laderic sat back down on the log, sharpening his dagger again. “I know it is,” he assured himself. He pulled his blade across the stone, the metallic sound calming his nerves.

  He had been fantasizing about killing the nightwalkers since Elwyse told them days ago that they would be coming. But now, knowing they were the very same nightwalkers that killed his family…

  I will kill all of them, he thought, gritting his teeth and pulling his blade across the stone once more. All of them.

  The horses balked, sensing his mood, shying away from him once again. They pressed themselves against the far side of the fence, the whites of their eyes showing as they rolled their eyes with fear.

  Laderic didn’t notice. His grim thoughts continued. He pulled his blade across the stone again.

  Then, I will find the pale-cloaked spectral, and I will shove my blade through his heart. He had better pray to his celestial god that I don’t find him—but it won’t do him any good.

  I will.

  Chapter 20

  The report was not good. It was not good at all. And Karkos was terrified of having to be the one to deliver it. As he ascended from the depths of Ewa’faita, he made grim eye contact with the other canidae in his squadron. They whined with tails between their legs, watching him exit the fort into the twilight followed by two other canidae on his left and right.

  Standing outside, facing the darkening forest, stood the nightwalker captain flanked by a dozen or so nightwalkers in their usual black garb. Their cloaks were made partially from cloth and partially from darkness, making them appear to meld into the encroaching night. The captain’s own white cloak shone in the fading sunlight, nearly blinding to look at.

  Karkos cleared his throat. “M-my lady, Lucia,” he began, addressing the pale-cloaked nightwalker. No response. “The necromancer has escaped… The spring has been completely destroyed.” His voice trembled, and an involuntary whine escaped his lips.

  The captain turned, deliberate and slow. The other nightwalkers took a step back, glancing at each other in fear. She faced Karkos, holding her large, curved staff in her left hand. At the top of her staff rested her pitch-black spectral stone, glistening and sinister. “Did he dessstroy it? Or sssomeone elssse.” Her voice was like a snake, lulling and soft, resting long consonant sounds on each S.

  Karkos swallowed hard. “There was a human, a cat, and a fairy. A drake alamorph and his pet too. And, well, you see, we caught the elf girl’s scent, as well—” He heard the captain’s sharp inhale, and his voice got caught in his throat.

  Lucia stood frozen for a moment. Karkos’s tail was between his legs, his knees shaking. Slowly, she reached up, pulling her hood down from her head. Her ash colored skin seemed to blend perfectly with her dark hair, which seemed to be made of the shadows itself. Her eyes were pale blue, icy and piercing.

  “Sso,” she began, “you mean to tell me the elf you were ssuppossed to take care of monthss ago has now compromissed our objective.”

  Karkos opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it once more to speak, but no words came out, just a small whine. His ears pulled back against his skull, he suppressed the canid urge to lie down in submission.

  Without warning, Lucia raised her hand. Beneath the feet of the two canidae beside Karkos, the shadows seemed to come alive. They spiraled up from the ground, wrapping tendrils around the legs of each of his comrades. Karkos watched in blank horror as the shadows began pulling them into the ground. The canidae were screaming, their barks unintelligible as they sank into the shadows, like quicksand. It was over in a few moments, and Karkos felt a bubble of fury form in his chest—but he dared not move lest he suffer the same fate.

  It was over in a matter of seconds. Karkos bowed his head reluctantly, visibly vibrating with fear. “My l–lady,” he whimpered, “we will get her, I swear it.”

  “I know you will,” snapped Lucia, “or you will not show your face to me again.” She scoffed at him, glaring at his bowed head, daring him to make eye contact. “Thiss time, I’ll be ssending a few of my men with you. I can’t trust you dogss to do anything right.”

  Karkos held his tongue, hard as it was. He glanced up for a moment before quickly looking back down at the ground. “You would… not accompany us yourself, ma’am?” he asked.

  Lucia laughed—an eerie, chilling sound. It hung in the air, seeming to have its own weight. “You should hope I never need to do that, dear Karkoss,” she spat. “Bessidess, I musst now travel north and inform Caine of the losss of this power ssource… Luckily, for you, he wass nearly done with it anyway.” Karkos remained silent, and she scrunched her nose up in disgust.

  “Go now, to Sstrita,” she ordered, pointing at the canidae who were filing out of Ewa’faita. She gestured toward four of her nightwalker followers, who fell out of formation and joined the canidae beside the fort. “They are likely to expect our arrival if they have the necromancer. You musst travel through the night tonight. The necromancer should be taken care of, but remember, the elf iss the priority. The dark king needss her eliminated.”

  After another moment, she spun back around, her white cloak splaying out behind her. She raised her staff, signaling to the rest of the nightwalkers to follow her. A thick, black fog began to creep in from the trees, enveloping their cloaks and melding with their bodies. Karkos watched her leave, red eyes narrowed, but still remaining silent.

  Lucia gave one last order before she disappeared.

  “You attack at dawn.”

  Coming Soon

  Echoes of Ashes: Pyre

  Echoes of Ashes: Inferno

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  Acknowledgments

  Thanks to my friends for always pushing me and believing in me: Houston, Abby, Sarah, and Kane.

  And thanks to my parents who told me I couldn’t, and in doing so made sure I would.

  About the Author

  Jessica Schmidt was born and raised in Louisville, Kentucky. Always a passionate reader, she began writing at the age of fourteen and hasn’t stopped! She is currently a senior at the University of Louisville and is working toward her bachelor’s degree in marketing.

  Schmidt began writing her debut young-adult fantasy novel, Echoes of Ashes: Ember, at the age of nineteen and has been exploring it and refining it ever since. Schmidt credits her mother with being her biggest inspiration and supporter. After her mother’s death, Schmidt decided to publish Echoes of Ashes: Ember in her honor.

  Want to follow Jessica’s work?

  Visit her website: jeschmidtauthor.com

 

 

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