Dark Tides (Kingdom of Bones #2)

Original Edition: ◇ Chapter 5 ◇ Emberblood ◇

JARON

 Icehaven - The Frozen Gap 

 Early Rainrise 

Jaron thought he was used to the cold. Surviving the frostfalls of Incendia had prepared him for the chill of Icehaven. Even though it was the start of the rainrise season and the thin layer of ice surrounding this island was giving away, the cold still clung like morning frost, fogging his breath as he walked the streets of the failed trading harbor. Once a bustling port between Ventys and the other kingdoms, now nearly abandoned.

The only people who came here were those who wanted to be ghosts.

Rows of short wood-crafted structures stood on either side of Jaron as he walked. Doors were closed tight, window shut, tattered flags waving solemnly in the wind. The street was empty of any life, the falling snow filling any footprints that might've been there before. In all the trading harbors he'd seen up along the coast of Incendia, there was always the scent of roasted birds or something being fried in a massive skillet and the sounds of traders and merchants arguing and haggling over silver. The only thing he could hear now was the frigid wind and the snow crunching under his boots with each step he took.

Doubt crept into Jaron's gut. Perhaps he'd come to the wrong place.

Do you not trussst me?

He had no reason not to. The whispers had only brought him greatness so far. They belonged to a god he'd worshipped his entire life, and Magnus had given him more than anyone else ever had. He'd never felt more powerful than when he'd left West Incendia with the obsidian sword he'd dug up. Not only was it an indestructible weapon—it magnified the ember magic in his blood.

Jaron continued on through the ghost harbor, burying his doubts where Magnus couldn't hear them. Movement caught his eye. He stopped in his tracks, whipping his head to the left. A curtain at a window fell back into place. He was being watched.

Snow crunched from behind.

He turned just in time as a man came barreling toward him with his sword in the air. Jaron stepped aside, dodging the blade as it swung down. He withdrew his own sword from his belt, the obsidian blade stark against the white snow. The man stumbled to a stop and turned to face Jaron, his breath fogging in the air as he glanced down at Jaron's sword.

"Leave this place," the man said, gripping the handle of his blade with two fists. His brown coat was riddled with holes and the wool hat he wore barely covered his ears. "Incendian."

Flames ignited inside of Jaron. How had the man known where he was from? "I mean you no harm," Jaron told the man. He slowly raised one empty hand, the other still attached to his sword at the ready.

"How could I believe anyone who wields a sword like that?" The man glanced at Jaron's sword again like he knew exactly where it came from.

"I'm only here to find someone and was told he'd be here in Icehaven," Jaron said calmly, hoping that maybe he could settle this man down as well. "Perhaps you could help me find him."

"Help an Incendian?" The man let out a cruel mocking laugh. "Like Scouts helped burn the trading docks years ago?"

His attention perked cat the mention of docks since there were none when he'd anchored. He had to row in on a dinghy. Incendian Scouts did the difficult jobs that no other member of the Navy could do, the ones that were sometimes hard to stomach. But what they did, they did for the better of Incendia.

"I am not a Scout," Jaron lied.

"I can smell fire from here," the man said. "You're an emberblood, aren't you? As if being a Scout wasn't wretched enough."