Page 42 of The Ember and the Emerald

He was a tall, leanly muscled man in his early thirties with dark waves of hair and eyes like a sunset. An exact copy of Jasher, only older. Or he would have been an exact copy, if Jasher wasn’t partially morphed, his features so sharp, so monstrous, they erased any similarities. Well, other than their eyes. Would anyone notice the two men possessed identical irises?

Ian wore a soot-streaked tunic and ripped beige leathers. He was younger here than the first time I’d met him. Less polished.

He noticed us first, his gaze dancing between Jasher and me. He rapid-blinked, as if surprised by what he saw, then rubbed a spot just over his heart. A parade of emotions flashed across his face, confusion and shock the easiest to read. Had he never seen one of his clones only partially morphed?

In the end, he zeroed in on me and slitted his lids. I bit my tongue. No way he recognized me. In his timeline, we hadn’t met yet.

No accusations sprang from him. Or me, even though my anger demanded appeasement. To shout his wickedness to the world. To chain and confine him and throw away the key.

Now wasn’t the time to announce his evil. No one trusted me. But they did trust Ian.

Then, I saw him—the king—and I could think of nothing else. Awe dawned, a light shining through the shadowy corridors of my being. Before this, I’d only seen him in my mother’s paintings, when he’d worn a golden crown and a robe of the deepest purple. Today, he sported clothing similar to Ian’s, his black hair in disarray and his icy blue eyes glittering with fury and determination. He was a force of nature, a picture of power and authority, strength and confidence.

Ahav stepped from a cluster of men to point to a map. “I’m king, and this is my kingdom.” He didn’t yell, but my bones reacted as if he did. “These people are my body. You are my body. A body divided is already defeated. Your bickering stops now. We come together, and we figure this out. Understand?”

Muttered agreements rang out.

“I’ve noticed the monstra go dormant for days whenever a soldier dies, my lord,” someone piped up, earning a nod of approval from Ian. “Perhaps if we make a daily sacrifice, using criminals, we can stave off⁠—”

“No,” the king bellowed. “No one needs to die but the monstra. I’ve been to the mountains, and I know there are nests here, here and here.”

“Then, at your command, we’ll go in hard and fast while the creatures are sleeping,” Ian said, switching tracks. “Hopefully, we can eliminate the hordes without any more loss of life on our end.”

A new chorus of agreement. I worked my jaw. Such a good actor, playing the devoted servant.

“Your Majesty,” Captain Rourke announced, bowing his head. “I present to you the oracle who says she has seen twenty years into the future. And her… pet. A monstra who is also a man. They were found on Dead Man’s Pass.”

Conversations ceased as everyone focused on Jasher and me. All gripped the hilt of a sword or a dagger, including Ian, who showed as much disgust as the others, as if he didn’t know Jasher was his clone.

“I did not believe…did not think it possible.” Ahav strode closer, then jerked his attention to me. “Where did you find this creature? How does it have the skin of a man?”

Nope, no one noticed the sunset irises. I could point it out, to seed for the big reveal, but having my birth father’s full attention hit with the force of an avalanche, growing stronger every second.

When he grunted in irritation, I remembered his question. “All monstra are half man, majesty. They morph between forms. This one just happened to stick mid-switch.”

Murmurs of disbelief blended.

“That cannot be true.” Unable to hide his frothing curiosity, Ian stepped to the king’s side for a closer look at Jasher. “How did you capture it?” he asked me.

“Easily,” I quipped. Everyone else probably assumed his interest sprang from a desire to stop the monstra, but I knew better.

Another man closed in on the king.

Eyes neon red, Jasher gave a feigned lunge. The man lurched backward.

Not exactly the-boyfriend-meet-the-father introduction a girl hoped for.

Ahav stroked his strong jaw, pensive. “I expect a different answer when I ask you the same question, Oracle. How did you capture it? Be specific.”

Rather than mentioning the shackles, I said, “He chose of his own free will to help me, and we’ve been together ever since.” The truth without further details.

Suddenly, heat flared behind my eyes. I cried out, gripping my head as the war room turned hazy, the soldiers instantly repositioned around the table. Everyone but Ahav and Ian, who stood with me. No sign of Jasher.

“What’s happening?” I gasped out, but no one heard me. My voice sounded distant, even to my own ears.

My mother sailed into the room, wearing a lovely gown of purple velvet dotted with specks of colorful paint, her dark hair flowing in shiny curls, her baby bump noticeably smaller.

“Did I hear someone say there’s an oracle in our midst?” she asked, skirting around me, heading straight for Ahav, who extended his arm in a silent invitation.