Phoenix Flame - Sara Holland Page 0,27
was missing.
“Look.” Marcus lifts the photo book, finger tapping on the open page. “We in this family have a bad habit of falling in love with Fiordens.” The second half of his statement hangs in the air, unspoken: Do you want to turn out like your mom?
I know he’s changing the topic, but I can’t help taking the bait. “It worked out for you, didn’t it?”
“I got lucky,” Marcus says, exasperated. “You know that. I got someone obsessed with stories, so life at a crossroads is perfect. Graylin’s happy here, where he can read and write and talk to the delegates. Do you think Brekken will be happy sitting at Havenfall forever? Putting down the sword and spending his days listening?”
A bubble of hurt grows in my chest. “He’s a good listener.” I point at the gauntlet. “Plus, maybe it doesn’t have to be like that. If this thing really works.”
“So you’re going to spend your life in Fiordenkill?”
“I didn’t say that.” My cheeks heat. The other side of the scale weighs heavy here too—even if it is somehow possible to live in another realm, that would mean giving up on being Innkeeper. But I don’t want to think about that right now. I didn’t come in here to decide how I was going to spend the rest of my life. If Brekken even wants me.
“I’m not talking about forever,” I say, angry now. I stand up, and Marcus does too, but I keep talking, cutting off whatever he might want to say. “I just can’t sit here while the soul trade goes on and Nate might still be alive. I can’t do anything about the Silver Prince, so let me go to Fiordenkill and do something. And anyway, I think it’s all connected—”
Marcus’s next words come out in a yell. “I don’t want you to roll the dice with your life!”
His raised voice startles us both, and silence falls. Then Marcus plops back into his chair, lifting his hands in a gesture of apology or surrender, I’m not sure which. In the silence, a draft from the tunnels sneaks through the open door into Marcus’s office, making me shiver. The faintest of breezes, tinged with the scents of ice and ash.
“I’m sorry,” Marcus says after a long, tense moment. He drops his head and pinches the bridge of his nose. “But put yourself in my shoes for a second here, Maddie. What would I tell your dad if something happened to you?”
My heart twinges, and I slowly sink back into my seat. That hadn’t occurred to me. I feel thoughtless, a little shamed. Still …
“Think about the look on his face if I can bring Nate home.”
Marcus flinches. We stare at each other, like a standoff in an old Western movie.
“I know it’ll be risky,” I go on after a moment. “But the reward—even the possibility—don’t you think that’s worth it?”
After several more seconds that feel like several lifetimes, Marcus lets out a heavy sigh. He runs his fingers through his hair, after which the stress curls bounce higher.
“If you do this, there are going to be rules,” he says.
My skin tenses with excitement. I want to let out a whoop of victory, but I hold it in and keep my face as neutral as possible, in case Marcus changes his mind.
“Of course,” I say, trying to sound mature and confident and competent. “Lay them on me.”
“Graylin goes with you.”
That surprises me. I’ve hardly ever known Graylin to leave Havenfall, not even to go into town. Like Marcus said a minute ago, he’s content here. But I can’t deny that the idea of having Graylin beside me in Fiordenkill is a comfort. “Sure, if he wants to.”
“And Brekken.”
I raise one eyebrow. “No argument from me there.”
But Marcus stares me down. “And I expect him to protect you with his life.”
“Okay.” I don’t plan on putting my life or anyone’s life in danger, so it’s easy enough to agree to that. Assuming Brekken wants to come with.
“Before you leave, Graylin will do research on the gauntlet to make sure it’s safe,” Marcus says, reaching out and reclaiming the object from me. “And once you’re in Fiordenkill, if it seems at all like it’s not working, if you get so much as a runny nose, you turn around and come right back.”
Once you’re in Fiordenkill. I never thought I’d hear those words. Just the sound of them makes my pulse race. But Marcus isn’t finished.
“And one more thing,” he says, enunciating