Page 60 of The Ember and the Emerald

Impossible. This journal was written in this loop. Yes? I was born in Kansas. Yes? So how had Ahav met me? Held me?

The very idea struck like a blade between my ribs. Had Queen Sandrine returned to Hakeldama after giving birth?

Another impossibility. She’d given me this journal before I left Ozworld. Before my birth. These words should not yet exist.

Unless this wasn’t the journal I’d started with…but came from another loop, sent by a past Moriah. The same one who’d sent the pack.

My pulse thundered as I read on.

I have tried, oh, how I have tried to protect you and your mother from Ian’s wrath. To prepare you both for the war that shadows our every dawn. Queen Elowen believes the surest way to guide you is not through strategy or bloodlines, but love. She urged me to tell you our story. Mine and your mother’s.

Are you ready?

I met Sandrine two years ago, when she washed upon our shores. I had gone riding without plan or escort. A reckless impulse I cannot explain, and something I hope you never do. But I digress. I told no one of my path, and yet, there she was. Unconscious, bruised, and bloodied. Whispering nonsense through cracked lips. Words she repeated. I’ve never forgotten them because she sometimes still mutters them while sleeping. “Shaburr shwin.”

After finding her, I bundled her up, intending to rush her to a healer. That’s when she awoke. She had no memory of who she was. Still doesn’t. But that’s all right. We know who she is now. Ours.

Memory loss, twice in her life? Like the two cave-ins with Morris, this wasn’t a coincidence but a pattern.

When she’d spoken of the “mental cage,” she’d mentioned memories she couldn’t quite reach. Did they stem from her life pre-Ahav?

Had she gone through a waterway, traveling between worlds? That would explain why Ahav had found her upon a shore.

I loved her the moment she opened those beautiful hazel eyes, peered up at me, and boxed my ears.

A startled laugh escaped me. I could hear him chuckling as he wrote that. Could see the scene as clearly as if I’d been there myself.

My mother. The ear-boxing champion of Hakeldama.

We laugh about our meeting now, though it took me months of patient courting to earn her trust. And her hand. I failed often, but I persisted, anyway. And in the end, I won. Marrying your mother is the finest decision of my life.

And there you have it, our love story. I wish I could tell you I found the Ember, as I found your mother, sparing you the weight of war and the cruelty of choice. But there are forces at work older than our kingdom’s crown. I have begun to suspect the Ember does not wish to be found so much as it needs to be recognized. It’s here, it’s near, and there’s a great chance we’ve overlooked it.

If these words reach you when you are lost or afraid, I pray they steady you, as Queen Elowen believes they will. Above all things, my Moriah, never forget that I love you.

Across kingdoms. Across lifetimes. Across whatever comes next.

Your father,

Ahav

Thoughts tore through me, a cyclone fiercer than the twin storms that had carried me between worlds and through time. Recognized. Not found. Not claimed.

Recognized.

Elowen believed this story could lead me to the Ember. Not the maps or the legends. This. So why hadn’t she told me herself? She’d had plenty of opportunities.

“You look ready to laugh and sob again,” Jasher said quietly, drawing me back to the present.

“My mother lived a life no one knows—” My voice cracked. I pressed the journal to my chest like a shield. A lifeline. “Never mind. My father said the Ember wants to be recognized.”

A knock sounded before he could respond, then the captain opened the door, his eyes once again trained on the wall behind me. “Time’s up.” He motioned to the exit. “This way, Oracle.”

18

TRUTH OR DARE

Ibolted from my seat, blood turning cold. I wasn’t ready for this, but no matter. At least I could give the journal to Ahav and prove—the tome vanished from my grip.