Page 122 of Stealing Embers
“I just wish we had a weapon or two.”
“Maybe we do.” Steel ticks his chin up and cranes his neck, looking over my shoulder. “Those can’t be for looks alone.”
I open and close the wings, testing their weight.
“I’m not sure what I can do with them,” I admit.
I can’t use them to fly in an enclosed space this tiny. In this situation, their only purpose could very well just be aesthetic.
“Those feathers are constructed of tougher stuff than a typical Nephilim’s. Maybe you can use them in a fight.”
“Maybe. But even if I could, it’s not as if I have the time to train with them now.”
Steel’s gaze becomes thoughtful.
“Come here. I want to try something.” It’s as much a command as it is a request.
I clench my jaw.
His demands are getting old and we don’t really have time for experiments, but arguing will only eat up more precious moments we don’t have.
Tugging me over to one of the cavern walls, he motions for Blaze and Aurora to stand back before getting behind me.
“Stretch them.”
Heat races to my face as I extend my wings. Steel most likely has no idea how uncomfortable it is to have him inspect a part of me so closely.
A tug is followed by a small burst of pain. I peer over my shoulder.
“Did you just pluck one of my feathers?”
It’s a rhetorical question because Steel now holds a gold-dipped quill between his thumb and index finger.
Peeved, I swing around. My right wing clips his arm. He grunts and stumbles back. Moving into his space, I jam a finger into his chest.
“Hands off my wings. Got it?”
Instead of answering, Steel holds up the feather he’s stolen. It’s approximately a foot long and the tip gleams. Lifting his hand, he pricks his finger on the end. A bead of blood blooms.
“Looks like we have a weapon after all.”
* * *
I feel extremely silly creeping through the underground labyrinth clutching a metal tipped feather as my only defense. But it could be worse. I could be Steel right now.
Not only is he holding a feather, but he has some sort of magic orb or light ball wrapped in his coat and secured under his arm. It looks like he’s smuggling a watermelon.
Aurora was adamant that we take the strange object with us—to the point of growing hysterical when she thought we’d leave without it. When she mentioned the orb was preventing us from phasing, Steel finally relented.
Throwing his discarded coat over the top of the orb, he picked it up and shoved it underneath his armpit. The thick material of the ugly covering kept most of the sphere’s brightness concealed, but not all of it. We use the glow to find our way through the tunnels, hoping the Forsaken on guard duty are still outside, searching the forest.
The mouth of the tunnel yawns in front of us. Silver beams of moonlight illuminate patches of the snow-covered ground outside, tempting us with freedom.
“You ready to do this?” Steel waits for acknowledgment from each of us. “Blaze. Aurora. I want you two to stay behind us. Preferably, behind Emberly’s giant wings.”
“I can fight,” Blaze argues, “You know I can.” His little boy face is hard with determination.
Steel’s eyes soften. “I know you can, bro. But I want you to concentrate on taking care of your sister.”