Shadow of Fire: The Fires of Aileryan by Kate Schumacher

Author:Kate Schumacher [Schumacher, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black-Kat Press
Published: 2022-05-05T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Jarlath sat beneath the trees and watched the fire springing from Ash’s palms; Laeli was standing a short distance away, nodding in approval. They had spent three weeks in Sitra already, encased in the never-ending green of the forest. He’d been given leave to explore, to hunt – but never alone. A fae guard shadowed his every step and, more than once, Jarlath wondered what would happen if he turned his weapons on the lithe body that watched him silently from the trees. He’d explored for hours, climbed hills and slunk down into valleys where waterfalls sprung from the earth and tumbled over the edge of small cliffs, or trickled gently into creeks and pools so still they were like mirrors.

He tried hard not to be impressed by the sheer beauty of the place but, in the end, he couldn’t help it. The landscape was as beautiful as a painting, every rock, tree, and shimmering leaf somehow different to the forests in Merawuld. Everything in this world seemed to glow, soft fingers of sunlight reaching through the trees to caress the earth. Sitra was a marvel of life and white stone, from the bustling streets filled with people and shop fronts, to the palace itself, where his room had the most glorious bed he had ever slept in, the blankets as soft as fresh grass. Jarlath had thought he was above enjoying the finer things in life, but after a few days here, he realised he’d never actually experienced anything more wondrous than a warm bed and a soft pillow, the snores of his brother later being replaced by the snores of his army mates.

Despite the wonders around him, he’d never felt more useless in his life.

Ash trained with Laeli, or with Senan, or Mahelivar, who, while not a Fire Witch as such, was a know-it-all about everything else. She’d spent hours in the palace library, surrounded by towers of books on every conceivable subject. Though he knew she liked to read, he just didn’t realise how much until he found himself watching her face as she studied. He noted the way she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and chewed absently, how she never raised her eyes from the page, making notes on a piece of parchment without looking. Was this how she was at the Academy, he wondered. Did she miss her old life? He knew she did, but not because she talked to him about it. He could see it in her shoulders, how they drooped when she thought he wasn’t watching during those first few days on the road, or how she’d pull the length of her hair over her shoulder and braid and unbraid it, playing with the ends while she frowned.

He just wanted her to be safe. He wanted her to be happy and smiling again, like she used to be, before that night of the silo fire that had completely changed both their lives. He wouldn’t change anything about what he’d

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