Page 53 of The Ember and the Emerald

I realized then: I had one weapon against Ian. The truth. It was plan A, B, C and D. “What I share can tip the scales in your favor,” I added, “and give you the advantage in this war.”

Rather than rebuke me for my attempted bargaining, the king nodded—with respect. “I give you my word. Your Tinman won’t be harmed unless he attacks. But those I trust will examine him.”

Okay, we could revisit the examination after the king learned the potency of my information. “The monstra are clones. Fashioned in the image of their maker.” My gaze slid to Jasher. His posture said casual unconcern, but his eyes seethed with irritation.

He didn’t like being discussed like an object. Noted.

“How are they made?” the king asked.

“That, I’ve not yet learned. Only…” My gut told me to introduce Ian’s involvement bit by bit, rather than spewing everything as if I was a firehose. Spoon-feeding details as my mom had done with Daniel. Information had a tipping point. Too much at once wasn’t clarity, but overload. I’d start with the foundation of my tale.

While I didn’t want Ian free, able to hurt anyone he pleased, I didn’t want Jasher injured through him.

“Ian is your enemy,” I said. “You must imprison him. Alive.”

The king shook his head, and this time there was nothing imperceptible about it. “Ian is not my enemy.”

Exactly what I’d expected him to say. “He’s not your enemy in the same way your trusted soldier wouldn’t attack the queen?”

My rebuke landed. He blanched.

Good. I fed him the next little spoonful. “Ian works with the monstra. But you must not kill him. Only imprison him,” I stressed.

That stopped the king cold. He scowled. “Careful, Oracle. You may have saved the lives of those who matter most to me, but I have no bonds with you. No shared history, where you’ve proven your unwavering loyalty time and time again. I do have this with Guardian Ian.”

Clearly my life-saving currency only went so far. “King Ahav. Hear me, please. I’m here to help you win the war against the monstra and right the wrongs you don’t yet know have and will occur. Before you accuse me of being a liar, allow me the courtesy of finishing my tale.”

He stared at me hard. Gave a clipped nod.

Okay, time to reveal my Big Gun. “You hunt for the Ember of Everlight.”

“That is true.” His eyes narrowed. “What do you know of the Ember?”

Here goes. “It crystallized the monstra during the days of King Morris and his Andrea. You believe it can do so again.” Believed it so strongly, in fact, that he’d filled the pages of an end-of-the-world journal with its details until he’d even convinced me.

“You aren’t wrong,” he confirmed, with only the barest hint of annoyance. “Now tell me where it is.”

“I’ll have to get back to you on that.” Tread more carefully. “But I can tell you I’ve foreseen a great tragedy come to this kingdom. One we can circumvent, like the queen’s death, if only you imprison Guardian Ian now. He, too, searches for the Ember.” He did? How did I know that? But I did. I knew.

Ahav remained unmoved. “Perhaps you did see something to make you believe your claim. Something you misunderstood. On the other hand, you could have pre-arranged the attack against the queen to prove yourself my ally, so I would allow you to bring a half-shifted monstra into my home. Perhaps you intend to unleash him upon us after you disparage my trusted friend, driving a wedge between us, and cutting off aid from my best source.”

The king’s logic was airtight. Terrifyingly so. I had no equal rebuttal.

Might as well dish the next spoonful and shake things up. “You’re right. Everything you said is possible. But wrong. I come from the future. And the otherworld. I’ve seen the end from the beginning. Or maybe the middle. If Ian reigns unchecked, all of Hakeldama will suffer.”

“The future.” Ahav stroked his jaw. “The otherworld.”

I let any pretense of bravado or practiced calm fade, hoping he’d see the sincerity behind my words. “Twenty years from now, Ian will control a portal between the two worlds. He will send me back to mine, but I will arrive just before my birth. It is there that Sandrine gives me a journal you wrote to your unborn daughter, Moriah.”

Surprise tightened his mouth. There and gone, his next expression giving nothing away. But his eyes… A computer firing at full capacity worked behind them. He was stripping and comparing and probing my words, I could tell.

“If Ian is as bad as you say,” he grated, “why keep him alive?”

“Some monsters are more useful alive than dead.” Instinct said: Let the mystery work for you.

He worked his jaw. “Show me the journal,” he commanded.

I nodded and made to cross to the bed, when a sharp pain ripped through my head. A cry escaped. In a split second, the world morphed into an endless void. A split second after that, a wealth of colors bled together, forming pictures. Exactly what had happened inside the war-room, before I’d watched a madman stab my pregnant mother.