The War Priest (Ars Numina #5) - Ann Aguirre Page 0,7
done.
Joss admitted that silently, even while acknowledging her own tendency to leap before she looked. Of all the Bristow cousins, she’d gotten herself into the most scrapes, taken the most risks, and generally been accounted a cheerful nuisance by most of her relations, a complete contrast to her careful cousin, Pru. Now, she was standing in the middle of Burnt Amber with only the clothes on her back and no plan for what came next. She couldn’t even explain why she’d jumped into the Rover along with everyone else, just that it seemed like the thing to do at the time.
She doubted Callum would be amused by that explanation.
“You did well, Renna.”
Wait, did Callum McRae just praise someone? Joss stared as the woman offered a tentative smile. “I only did as you said and waited as long as I could. They can’t strike while our defensive grid holds.”
“We’re safe enough for now, but we’re completely cut off,” Callum said grimly.
Shit. That sounded as if she couldn’t go home, even if she wanted to. And she hadn’t told anyone before she left Daruvar. She wondered if Burnt Amber had jammers like the Eldritch to prevent the Golgoth from hacking into their communications. If so, she might not be able to send a message to her family for a while. Since he didn’t want her here in the first place, she wouldn’t piss him off by asking for special treatment.
The way Callum regarded the beautiful woman was rather different, though. Sort of tentative and gentle, as if he didn’t know precisely how he ought to behave. Joss took the respite their exchange offered to study her surroundings. This was her first visit to Burnt Amber, and she hadn’t known precisely what to expect coming in. Not to mention, the ride had been rough as hell with the Golgoth troops chasing them, and she hadn’t seen much while jolting around the back of the Rover.
Like Ash Valley, Burnt Amber had protective walls, but unlike her home, they hadn’t been shaped via masonry. No, this was more like the giant stones had been set by some ancient earth god, arranged upright to protect the oblong space within, affixed through heat, not mortar, as though the edges had fused with unimaginable volcanic force. The stone itself was dark, like basalt, but it was also marbled with shades of umber and gold.
I understand now why they call this place Burnt Amber.
On some level, the beauty spoke to her, whispering of barely tamed spaces and the same wildness that had always whispered in her blood. As for the buildings that made up the inside of the hold, they were stark and imposing, shaped from the same rock that formed the walls. Frescoes were carved above the doors and windows, stylized scenes that she couldn’t interpret from this distance, though she wanted to look closer.
Moving would draw Callum’s wrath down on her sooner, though, so Joss stayed quiet. There was a withered garden on one side of the hold, large enough that it likely supplied everyone who lived here. Here, she could imagine they existed in a land untouched by time. There were no signs of any of the mines or security tech that Burnt Amber was famous for, and she couldn’t spot any wires or cables that would power the imposing structures. Others came out of nearby buildings to form a welcoming party, but they didn’t interrupt Callum either.
“You didn’t hesitate to blame this on me, I notice.” The flirtatious bear, Garven, stepped softly to her side, canting his head with a teasing smile.
“Not true. I merely stated a fact.”
“One that will get me in trouble with that bearded devil,” he muttered. “But I expect you’ll entertain me enough that I won’t regret it.”
Joss narrowed her eyes. “Excuse me?”
“With your music,” he clarified. “That’s what you promised, isn’t it? Songs to lighten our grim and weary hearts.”
“I’ll do my best.” She didn’t especially want to talk about her impulsive decision to volunteer a concert for people who probably had much bigger concerns. “This may seem like a silly question, but you do have electricity here?”
Garven followed her glance to the gabled roofs. “You can’t see them from this vantage, but we acquire significant power from solar panels. The lines between buildings are buried. The clan chief didn’t want a lot of modern nonsense mucking up a perfectly foreboding aspect.”
“I think it’s lovely,” she said sincerely.
“Truly? Ash Valley is much more modern. Burnt Amber is like a medieval