Ashes Unwritten: Oblivion's Heir [Volume 1 Complete!]

Kess listened to Rowan's quiet breathing as he slept beside her. True to her word, nothing more had happened between them, but something had changed. A new sort of trust had blossomed between them—a destruction of barriers that Kess had spent years erecting. Rowan now knew of that darkness that lurked inside of her, and yet still he cared about her.

That love was an odd thing for Kess to confront, especially after her attack on the garrison. She wasn't sure if she could love herself anymore, given the magnitude of that mistake. Her desire for revenge had festered for so long that she hadn't even recognized it when it came out.

She turned, wincing at her soreness, and put her back to Rowan's warmth, watching the storm flash as it lit the world outside of the manor. This reprieve was temporary, she knew. Outside, both the storm and a war raged, and her own actions had pushed at least one of those to the brink. Tomorrow she would return to the Uphill to find her brother and get to the bottom of this mess with the Council.

What would she even say to him? She'd finally embraced her Fulminancy, yes, but at what cost? What had Oliver heard? The story of a woman fighting to protect the Downhill, or a woman intent on destroying the Uphill? She didn't dare think about what she would do if Oliver really was working for the Council. She didn't dare think about what she might have to do.

Kess closed her eyes, drifting. She was still tired, but she felt better than she knew she should. She wasn't sure if she had really been prepared to never wake up again, but it had certainly been a thought in her mind. Regardless, those men had deserved every bit of power she could spare to save them, even if it cost her dearly.

What Rowan had done was insane and foolish, but she was glad to be here with him, even as the world fell apart around her. Claire had been right—guilt was a much worse monster than anything else she'd faced before. Kess nearly drifted off again, but something jiggled the lock to her room, and the door slammed open.

Beside her, Rowan jumped, then groaned, the effects of the night before obviously still upon him. Kess sat bolt upright before groaning herself at the pain in her head, though Rowan's hand on her back distracted her enough to forget about it for a moment.

Claire stood there in the doorway, her blond hair disheveled and her eyes bruised, looking, if anything, worse than they did. She narrowed her eyes, surveying them, and Kess blushed. Rowan, at least, was fully clothed, but their sleeping situation didn't exactly speak to chastity.

"Well, that explains why I couldn't find either of you in this stormsick place," Claire said, shutting the door and flopping onto the couch to stare at them both. Kess scowled at her.

"What do you and Arlette have against doors and locks?" Rowan asked, his voice hoarse. Claire folded her arms and leveled her gaze at Rowan, though her eyes darted to his hand on Kess's back.

"They're in my way," she said coolly.

"That's what they're for, Claire." She waved him off.

"Whatever. Once again, I find Kess alive when she absolutely should not be. That no longer surprises me, though it does vex me. You'll be happy to know that while the two of you were playing God, I managed to revolutionize the medical field." She paused, her sharp eyes falling on Rowan. "What did you do?"

Rowan held her gaze, his eyes unwavering. Then he fished the locket out from the blankets, holding it up for Claire to see. She immediately swore. "It appears," Rowan said as the locket twirled, "that it works for my Fulminancy too." He draped the locket back over Kess's head, moving aside her hair to let the chain settle around her neck. Kess held her breath and tried to ignore his touch, though she was suddenly very aware of how close he was.

"You transferred yours to her?" Claire asked, crossing her arms.

Rowan nodded, adjusting the chain around Kess's neck. "While the two of you were napping, I did some of my own research," he said. "I'm still not entirely sure why the Founders made them, but you can use them as conduits to transfer pretty much anything you want. They used them before Fulminancy was even fully formed, though why they kept passing them down between Seats, I have no idea."

"Especially given that Fulminancy mostly passes down genetically," Kess murmured, turning the locket in her hands. "Though not always. Maybe they're used to store Fulminancy somehow?"

Rowan shook his head. "I don't think so. But I wonder if their use as a conduit for years encourages certain types of Fulminancy to form."

"You could have killed yourself," Claire said. A wry smile appeared on Rowan's lips as he met Kess's eyes.

"So I've been told." Kess smiled impishly at him, like a child who knew a secret she shouldn't. Claire was obviously put out by it, because she threw her head back on the couch, sighing.

"Regardless, if you two are done trying to die, creating new forms of taboo, and generally making a mockery of everything that's right in the world, we've got a new problem."

"What now?" Kess asked. Claire opened her mouth to respond, but a vibration rolled through the room, rattling the fixtures on the wall as it reverberated through every piece of furniture. From downstairs, Kess heard shouting and several crashes. Just as the groaning building threatened to come apart, the vibrations stopped, leaving a cloud of dust in the room. Kess waved her hand, coughing and trying to clear the air, but Claire hadn't moved. Her eyes stared at the ceiling.

"That," she said simply, "is the new problem."

Mercifully, Rowan convinced Claire to leave long enough for Kess to get presentable again. Back in her changing room, freshly showered, she pulled her hair up into a tie, scowling at the bruise Claire had left. Then again, she'd certainly deserved it. It was humiliating though, and Kess dabbed at it with the makeup she had on hand, also using some to cover the dark circles under her eyes—it wouldn't do to look like this for tomorrow, so Kess figured it wouldn't hurt to deal with it now, as practice. Besides, she felt better than she looked. Better than she'd felt in a long time, actually. Rowan's Fulminancy had that effect on her—one she wished she'd had access to years ago.

Satisfied with her appearance, Kess met up with Rowan outside her door. He had at least opted to change his clothes from the blood stained mess they'd left his last set in, and his curls sat damp on his head. Kess smiled at him, and they made their way downstairs together.

A very upset Arlette met them at the doorway to the sitting room, looking like she hadn't slept in days. She looked Kess and Rowan up and down and scowled.

"You two look better than you should. Mariel knows I haven't gotten any sleep in the last few days, thanks to you."

Kess exchanged a glance with Rowan, but neither said anything. Arlette, perhaps, hadn't played as large of a role in the disaster as they had, but according to Rowan, she bore some responsibility, at least. Arlette was brilliant with numbers, but bad with people, and she'd paid for it by trying to manipulate both. It did little to ease Kess's guilt, but it certainly meant she reserved no sympathy for Arlette.

Rowan and Kess sat on one of the chaises, and Eamon smiled at them from the opposite one, looking haggard, but no worse for the wear. If only everyone in Forgebrand was like Eamon and Draven, Kess thought. She smiled back, but her smile faded as she realized something.

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"No Rae still?" she asked. Arlette shook her head, face grim as she joined Eamon.

"No Rae, and no word. The two of you might have to poke around tomorrow and see if you can't find something on her."

Kess nodded, distracted. Rae's absence didn't bode well—not with what both Kess and Rowan had felt before the explosion. Kess just couldn't figure out how something had happened to Rae at all. She was strong, fast, gifted with Fulminancy, and street smart to boot. Rae's capture or disappearance meant that none of them were safe. The thought settled in Kess's gut, heavy and final.

"In any case," Arlette said, "we've got a bigger problem. That storm of yours."

"Why is it mine?" Kess demanded.

"Because it only showed up after your little incident at the Archives," Arlette replied smoothly. "Whatever it is, you and Rae had something to do with it."

That was oversimplifying a complex problem, but Kess said nothing, resting her head on her chin instead.

"It's gotten bad while you were out, lass," Eamon said. The older man looked as exhausted as the rest of them. Kess wondered when he'd last had a chance to sleep a full night. "It's tearing the city apart, drifting away from the Archives, or at least spreading. It's hard to tell without going in the Fanas-spawned thing itself. Soon the only safe place will be underground."

"Anything made of wood is already long gone," Claire added from where she perched on a stool in front of the hearth. "Fulminancy-reinforced stone like we're in will last the longest, but I'd rather we figure out a solution to the problem before we're the last building standing on the block, if it's all the same to you."

Arlette nodded absently, fingering the hilt of her sword. The woman never let it out of her sight. "We need to do something, but I wouldn't say we've had a great record of solving things lately. I'm open to ideas."

Silence settled over the room. What is anyone supposed to do about a storm that big? Kess thought, folding her arms. Floodstorms, Drystorms, and Lightstorms were one thing—they might occasionally destroy property, but with the right amount of preparation, most people survived them with a few inconveniences. But a storm capable of blowing down something as imposing as the manor they sat in? That was something else entirely. Mariel had mentioned that they could destroy it by releasing Fulminancy, but Kess wasn't even sure it was the same storm.

"Are we solving the storm problem before or after the Shadows and the Blockers?" Rowan asked, an eyebrow raised. Kess shot him a look, but no one laughed.

"For all we know, they could be related," Claire said. She hopped up from her chair, pacing. "Kess first saw a Shadow not long after the storm spiraled up, and Blockers weren't long after that."

"Well, killing them doesn't seem to affect it," Rowan said.

"We can always kill more and find out," Arlette said, patting her sword. Claire paused her pacing and snorted.

"And what, ask the storm to pretty please wait while we figure out an efficient way to cut down swathes of—of rubber monsters?"

"The lass has a point," Eamon said. "We don't have that kind of time." He scratched at his beard in thought, but didn't add anything. There were no logical options. Everyone in the room could fight in their own way, but no one had weapons to bear on a storm of that size.

"I don't think they're both related to the storm," Kess finally said. She frowned, staring at the table, trying to form words that would make sense. "The Blockers didn't feel like anything to me—there was nothing directing them internally." Four pairs of eyes turned to stare at her.

"What do you mean there was nothing directing them?" Arlette asked. Her tone snapped, but Kess ignored it.

"With the Shadow," she continued, "it was like it had a consciousness—like it wanted something. The storm is the same way."

Silence met her words, and Kess sunk slightly into the couch, realizing what she'd have to bring up, and wanting to avoid it all the same. Claire's too-sharp eyes snapped to her, and between her and Arlette, Kess felt a little like she might be devoured by wolves.

"How do you know?" Claire asked, arms crossed.

"Because it talked to me, I think," she whispered. She'd mentioned the vision to Rowan and Rae, but no one else.

"It…talked to you," Arlette repeated. She barked out a laugh. "Not your storm my ass, Kess." Kess rolled her eyes and looked away to the fireplace, remembering the times she'd heard that voice.

"I've only ever heard it after thunder and lightning, and it never happened before this storm appeared. Whatever it is keeps telling me to release something—to unlock it. There was a vision when Rowan and I went to the Archives that said the same thing—that we should release Fulminancy."

And something kept pushing me to do more at the garrison, Kess thought, rattled. A haze of storm clouds had filled both her mind and the hallway that night. How much of her mind had been her own in that bloody garrison?

"The same as the woman at the party," Rowan whispered. Kess looked at him then, and his face paled. "Kess, she turned into one of those—"

"I know what happened to her, Rowan," Kess snapped, turning away.

"Why in Mariel's name would the storm ask someone a favor then turn them into a bleedin' Shadow?" Eamon asked. "Seems to me like that's not a way to win you any favors."

"This is all fascinating," Arlette interrupted, "but we still have no solutions. Reinforcing this place will only do so much, and unless you three have something in those books, I know nothing about releasing Fulminancy."

"I've gone through pretty much all of them at this point," Rowan said, running a hand through his curls. "If there's a solution there, it's buried in some tiny footnote that would take months to find, and we don't have that kind of time."

"What if I talk to it again?" Kess asked quietly. The room stared.

"You want to…talk to it…again," Arlette said incredulously. Kess could hardly blame her. This was a room of practical people, if nothing else. How else were they supposed to respond to such an absurd claim? It was an insane idea, and yet, it felt right somehow. Mariel had spoken to her before. Maybe she would again. She had said she would watch Kess from the storm.

"I—I don't know if it will work, but if it wants something, maybe the best way to solve it is to just ask it directly what it wants," Kess said. Claire threw up her hands, her face in a sneer.

"The entire city is being destroyed and you want to talk to a storm," she said. "Now I've heard it all. If I needed any confirmation that your near-death experiences had addled your mind, this is it." She threw herself back onto her stool, rocking it backwards to balance on two legs. For someone who treated broken bones, Kess thought she spent a lot of time flirting with actions that might net her some.

Eamon looked uncomfortable, but when he spoke, his voice was kind. "The lass is a lot of things, but she's not touched in the head," he said. "My gran used to tell us some odd things about storms and weather patterns that she'd heard from her gran. 'Twas mostly tales for us boys, but there were mentions about something hiding in bad weather, long ago." He shrugged, eyes distant. "As lads, we mostly assumed them tall tales to keep us inside during overlapping seasons, but there could be something to them."

"Rowan?" Arlette asked. Rowan's eyes fell on Kess, and her stomach flipped. Internally, she cursed herself for what she'd done last night—it wasn't that she hadn't enjoyed it, or meant it, but her action had acknowledged what perhaps both of them had been too afraid to admit, and she wasn't sure she could afford that kind of distraction right now.

"I don't like the idea of it," Rowan finally said. "But it might be our only shot."

"And how, pray tell, do you intend to speak to the storm, oh Seat of Mariel?" Claire asked from her stool.

"That's not my title," Kess said.

"I only see one moron blowing up shit and murdering entire garrisons—on purpose, anyway."

"Enough," Arlette snapped. "Claire, they were marching their way down to the manor that night, anyway. Who do you think would have dealt with hundreds of Witchblades? You? She saved the manor that night no matter how you slice it, and quite a few of the men to boot. War is messy." Kess felt gratitude well up inside as Arlette turned back towards her, propping one foot up on the table. "How do you intend to do this?"

"Like I would speak to anyone, I suppose," Kess said, thinking. "I'll just walk right up to it."

"Well, if anyone can survive that, it's her," Claire hissed. "The woman is immune to death as far as I'm concerned."

"The nomination comes first," Arlette said, folding her arms. "We'll deal with the storm after."

"And the Shadows and Blockers?" Eamon asked, eyes grim.

"We deal with those as they come," Arlette replied. "We're not miracle workers." She moved to stand, signaling the meeting was over. "All of you get some food and some sleep," she said as she made her way to the door. "This isn't going to get easier anytime soon."