Ember: A Fantasy Austen Retelling (Magical Regency Book 2) by Jae Wiley

Author:Jae Wiley [Wiley, Jae]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-09-15T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

“Would anyone notice if Mrs. Wynton happened to fall down one of these dreadful pits?” Ember murmured to Helene, who giggled. No one heard—the small party was spread far and wide on this expedition into the countryside.

In the week she’d been here, Mrs. Wynton had inserted herself in every aspect of their lives as if she had the right to do so. Everyone was finding it difficult to adjust; even Mr. Wynton looked a little harried of late.

In fact, Mrs. Wynton was the reason they were out here. She simply had to see the old castle ruins, and she’d invited the entirety of Highbury along. People had made vaguely positive noises, but as the day drew closer, the number shrank until it was only Ember, Helene, Mage Noughton, the Wyntons, Mage Chamless, Lyriel, and Mistress Boadhan.

Rather than answer truthfully, Helene lifted her skirts to avoid a puddle and asked a question of her own. “Who would not want to explore this place? Castle ruins, the site of a proposed battle between Merlin and Mordred? It’s so exciting.”

Ember was unconvinced. “The day after a rainstorm does not seem the best time, but Mrs. Wynton would not hear of delaying.”

The vista was incomparable. The ruins of a crumbling castle rose ahead of them, threatening to topple at any moment. One soaring tower remained standing, stairs exposed to the elements, and Ember doubted it even possible to go up.

Rolling hills surrounded the castle, with forest on either side of the wide valley, and a burbling stream lay just inside the tree line to the west.

If all Ember took in was the beauty, however, she would inevitably fall into one of the holes dotting the valley. Or step in one of the puddles from yesterday’s torrential downpour. Honestly. The trip could have been put off by a day or two.

Legend had it, the wide holes scarring the land had been the result of a magical battle between Merlin and Mordred, the castle having been built by the latter, and the former taking exception to it.

Helene interrupted her thoughts. “I have a question for you. About your father.”

Ember stopped. “Is he well? He seemed fine before we left.”

“He is,” Helene touched Ember’s arm comfortingly. “It’s just that his sleep is so troubled. Last night he was restless, so I sat with him. He talked in his sleep.”

Ember swallowed in a suddenly dry throat. “What did he say?”

“You said he was in France during the revolution?”

“Yes.” Ember had already shared with her what she’d learned from Mage Danbriar, and they’d been at loose ends ever since.

Helene licked her lips. “Do the words Saint-Germain-des-Pres mean anything to you?”

Should they? She’d never been very good at geography. “Is it in Paris?”

“It is a church in Paris, yes. The Abbey was used as a prison during the revolution. Your father also said September.”

Ember knew this was important, she just didn’t know—and then she did. Her knees trembled and she sank down onto a wide stone, scarcely feeling the chill of it.

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