Page 55 of The Ember and the Emerald

“I told you I didn’t consent to this,” I snapped at the king.

“And I told you it would happen regardless,” Ahav replied, not the least bit moved.

“Let them look,” Jasher called, an emperor amused by peasants. “Like what you see?”

Kevin spoke up again. “I support your choices. Even the bad ones.”

The king and commanders looked around, confused. Neither Jasher nor I explained.

“Show us your wings,” Ian said, and the commanders stepped back.

A dangerous stillness rippled through my Tinman, followed by a low, lethal laugh. “Anything for you, guardian,” he purred. Part of me suspected he meant those words and only pretended to mock. That he was bound to Ian and must obey. Hadn’t he hinted as much?

His wings burst free with violence, whisking him vertical.

In perfect unison, the examiners scattered farther back. Their eyes gleamed with fascination as they continued their inspection. “Look at those joint hooks.”

My heart climbed into my throat. “Why is Ian allowed to participate?” I quietly demanded of Ahav as Jasher returned to the wall and sat, tucking in his wings. “You said you would proceed as if he’s guilty.”

“Until the Ring proves otherwise,” the king replied without heat, “I’ll also proceed as if he’s innocent. The same way I’ll proceed with you.”

I pressed my tongue to my teeth.

“Give me the journal,” he demanded.

My gaze jerked toward Ian. He seemed absorbed with Jasher, but I wondered if he listened to my conversation with the king.

Legs still wobbling, I staggered to the bed. Reached for the leather-bound tome⁠—

Gone.

I tore through the blankets, scrabbled along the floor, patted beneath the mattress. Nothing. Only cold air and panic.

“It’s missing.” My pulse beat like a war drum. It wouldn’t burn and now it had vanished?

Ahav said nothing, but his silence spoke volumes. He was losing patience with me, hemorrhaging trust second by second.

The men finished their examination and filed out. From his position against the wall, Jasher blew them a kiss goodbye.

“Ian,” the king called, and his friend stopped and faced us. “Tomorrow you will face the oracle in the Ring of Truth.”

Ian canted his head, his gaze quizzical rather than fearful. “May I inquire of the charge, sire?”

A muscle jumped in Ahav’s jaw. “She claims you work with the monstra.”

No reaction. “A serious charge indeed.” The guardian focused on me. “If you apologize and admit you lied, we can continue in peace.” He spoke with the ease of someone who’d already tested the Ring—and won. “But if you continue to malign my character, I will act.”

My stomach turned over. “Are we supposed to box or something? Because I come with truth bombs, not right hooks.”

A slight smirk, soon wiped away, then a head shake. “That isn’t how it works. But so be it, Oracle. We will proceed. Enjoy your night. You won’t get to enjoy another.” Off he strode, whistling, as if he had no cares.

King Ahav trailed him, but lingered in the doorway. “In the Ring, the one who speaks truth strengthens. The one who lies creates shackles. The winner decides the fate of the loser.”

Perfect. Ian didn’t stand a chance.

Ahav’s gaze burned into mine. “If you tell even one falsehood, Ian will have every right to take your head. Punishment for your baseless accusations.”

“I’m not worried,” I said, confident.