City of Shadows

Chapter 16: Standing in the Ashes

Ember awoke to the most horrid sensations she had ever felt in her life. Her throat was bone dry, and her mouth tasted as bitter as a lemon peel. Her stomach was roiling violently, like ocean waves churning during a storm. Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest, as quick as the rapid fluttering of a hummingbird's wings.

She opened her eyes the slightest bit, and instantly regretted it. Light pierced through her eyes and through her skull, sharp as a blade, and the little bit of the world that she saw spun around her as if she were riding a carousel. A groan of pain rose from her, and she immediately shielded her eyes by throwing an arm over them.

"Iz? Remind me never to drink again."

Ember rolled on the bed, turning over so that she was lying face-down, and was barely able to hold down the wave of nausea that overtook her, then realized something else: the bed she was lying on—it was not her bed, and it was not Isabelle's.

She shot up, ignoring the sharp ache that lanced through her head, the cramps in her stomach, and fully opened her eyes.

This was definitely not the Institute, and it was not Isabelle with her, but Rowan who was entering through the door. He had donned his armor, but his auburn hair was brushed back and fell long, straight, and heavy down his back, baring the typical pointy-eared markings of a faerie and making his delicate features seem sharper.

"You slept quite a bit."

Her eyes never left him as he neared her and took a seat on the bed beside her. There was something in his hands. It was a cup of smooth red clay, and there was something inside it, a lightly steaming liquid with a light floral scent. He presented the cup to her, a reassuring smile on his lips.

She eyed the cup warily. She knew Rowan was kind enough, but he was still a faerie, and she did not know if she could trust him. He seemed to have read the distrust and caution written on her face, and amusement filled his features.

"Ember Fairose, if I wished to entrap you, don't you think I would have done so already? I had many chances to last night, but I did not. I can assure you that my intentions are pure; I do not mean to harm you in any way." He offered the cup to her once again. "Here. Drink."

"Fair enough." She took the cup and peered into it. The substance inside was a deep, red-orange color, like hibiscus, and she detected other, more exotic scents as she inhaled the steam wafting up. "What is this?"

"It is one of the Lady Nene's own concoctions. She is one of the best healers in the Queen's Court. It will surely settle your stomach and sharpen your mind."

Her eyes darted up to his at that, and the cup stopped halfway to her lips. "Does she know I'm here?"

"No. I was very careful not to reveal anything."

She stared at him a few moments longer, and after coming to the conclusion that he was telling the truth, drank from the cup greedily. Flavor burst into her mouth, sweet, tangy, and faintly spicy, like cinnamon. It almost instantly relieved the pounding against her temples and the horrible nauseated feeling in her stomach, replacing it with a warm, full feeling.

She sat back, her gaze never rising from the cup in her hands.

"What happened last night?"

Ember could feel the surprise radiating off of him as he turned to look at her. "You do not remember anything?"

She tried to, but all that came to her mind was an unintelligible mess of colors and voices. "It's all a blur," she told him. "I can't really tell what's real or not."

He was quiet for a single moment, and then he began to speak. "You came into Faerie; you tried to join the revel. I stopped you before you could do so, and I brought you here." He paused again, hesitating, and there was something in his eyes that made the sick feeling return to Ember's stomach and made her tighten her hold on the cup.