Ember
The ladder rungs were slippery with my sweaty hands.
"Don't let go!" I shouted down to Spark, who was climbing below me. "Just keep moving!"
Above us, our house exploded.
The sound was like the world ending—wood cracking, glass shattering, stone crumbling. Heat blasted down through the trapdoor, making my skin feel like it was cooking.
Then I heard the worst sound of my entire life.
Mama screaming. Papa roaring in rage. And then—silence.
"MAMA!" Spark shrieked, trying to climb back up.
I grabbed her arm so hard it would probably bruise. "No! We have to go down! Mama said—she told us to run—"
"But they're still up there! We have to help them!"
"We can't!" The words ripped out of my throat like broken glass. "Spark, we can't. They're—"
I couldn't say it. Couldn't make it real.
Another explosion shook the tunnel. The trapdoor above us slammed shut on its own. Or maybe someone closed it. Either way, we were sealed in.
Trapped.
Or safe.
I didn't know which was worse.
"Keep climbing," I ordered, my voice shaking. "Down. Now."
Spark was sobbing so hard she could barely breathe, but she obeyed. We climbed down and down and down into the pitch-black tunnel. My arms burned. My legs trembled. But I didn't stop.
Finally, my feet hit solid ground.
The memory vault stretched out before us, lit only by the soft glow of thousands of crystals on shelves that seemed to go on forever. Each crystal held someone's memory—happy birthdays, first kisses, wedding days, quiet moments with loved ones.
Papa said memories were the most precious things people owned. More valuable than gold. More important than anything.
Now I understood why someone would kill for them.
"Ember, I can't breathe right," Spark wheezed beside me. Her face was covered in soot and her eyes were red from smoke.
I pulled her close, checking her over. No burns. No blood. Just scared.
Just like me.
"Listen to me." I grabbed her shoulders and made her look at me. "We're going to hide. We're going to be very, very quiet. And we're going to wait until it's safe."
"When will it be safe?" Her voice was so small it broke my heart.
"I don't know." At least I was honest. "But Papa built this place to protect us. Nothing bad can happen here."
Another lie. But what else could I say?
I pulled Spark deeper into the vault, past rows and rows of glowing crystals. Our footsteps echoed on the stone floor. Every sound felt too loud, like we were announcing our presence to anyone listening.
Near the back wall, I found a spot where three tall shelves came together, creating a small triangle of space. Perfect for hiding.
"Get in there," I whispered, pushing Spark into the corner. "Don't make a sound. Don't move. Don't even breathe loud."
"I'm scared," she whimpered.
"Me too." I crawled in beside her and wrapped my arms around her shaking body. "But we're together. That's what matters."
We sat in the darkness, surrounded by other people's happy memories, while our own world burned above us.
Minutes passed. Or hours. I couldn't tell.
Then I heard it.
Boots. Heavy footsteps on the ladder.
Someone was coming down.
Spark's whole body went rigid. I clamped my hand over her mouth gently, shaking my head. Don't make a sound.
The footsteps reached the bottom. Then more footsteps. At least three people. Maybe more.
"Spread out," a cold voice commanded. "Find the girls. Lord Dredge wants the older one alive. Kill the younger."
My blood turned to ice.
They wanted to kill Spark. My baby sister. The girl who still slept with a stuffed rabbit. The girl who laughed at Papa's terrible jokes and helped Mama bake cookies every Sunday.
They wanted her dead.
And they wanted me alive for something worse.
I felt Spark trembling against me. Felt her tears soaking through my nightshirt. I wanted to tell her it would be okay. Wanted to promise we'd survive this.
But I couldn't make promises I might not keep.
The soldiers spread out through the vault, their boots clicking on stone. They were searching systematically, checking behind every shelf, looking in every corner.
Getting closer.
Closer.
A soldier walked right past our hiding spot. So close I could have reached out and touched his boot.
He didn't see us.
He kept walking.
I let out the breath I'd been holding—
And Spark coughed.
Just once. A small, choked sound from all the smoke she'd breathed.
But in the silent vault, it was loud as a scream.
The soldier stopped walking.
Turned around.
Started coming back toward our hiding spot.
I did the only thing I could think of. I grabbed a memory crystal from the shelf above us—a bright blue one that pulsed with stored thoughts—and threw it as hard as I could across the vault.
It hit the far wall and shattered.
Blue light exploded everywhere. And with it came the memory it had held—a woman's voice, laughing and saying "I love you, I love you, I love you" over and over.
All the soldiers spun toward the sound.
"Over there!" one shouted.
They ran toward the broken crystal, away from us.
I grabbed Spark's hand and pulled her in the opposite direction, deeper into the vault. We moved as quietly as possible, using the shelves for cover.
But there was nowhere to go. The vault was underground. No windows. No other exits. We were trapped down here with soldiers who wanted to kill us.
We pressed ourselves against the back wall, hidden behind the last row of shelves.
And that's when I saw it.
A crystal on the lowest shelf, glowing orange instead of blue. Orange like fire. Orange like—
Like my name.
My hand reached for it before I could think.
The moment my fingers touched the crystal, pain exploded through my head. Images flooded my mind—images I didn't understand. A woman with my face but older. Fire pouring from her hands. Soldiers running away from her in terror.
Words echoed in my skull: "The Pyromancer bloodline must end. Kill them all."
I yanked my hand away, gasping.
What was that? What did it mean?
"Found them!" a soldier shouted.
I looked up.
Three soldiers stood at the end of our aisle, blocking the only way out. The cold-voiced leader from earlier stepped between them, smiling a terrible smile.
"Ember Ashford," he said, like he knew me. Like we were old friends. "Your parents discovered something they shouldn't have. Something about your family. About what you are." He pulled out a needle that glowed silver. "Now the whole bloodline pays the price."
"What are you talking about?" I pushed Spark behind me. "We didn't do anything wrong!"
"No. But you will." His eyes gleamed with something like satisfaction. "In about two years, when your powers awaken. When you become what your ancestors were. We can't let that happen."
Two soldiers grabbed my arms. I kicked and screamed and fought, but they were too strong.
"Let her go!" Spark threw herself at them.
A soldier caught her easily, lifting her off the ground like she weighed nothing.
"What should we do with this one?" he asked the leader.
The leader looked at my baby sister. Looked at her crying, terrified face.
And said, "Kill her."
"NO!" I screamed.
The needle pressed against my temple. Sharp pain shot through my skull. I felt something being pulled out of me—not blood, but thoughts. Memories. Pieces of myself.
The last thing I saw before darkness swallowed me was the soldier raising his sword over Spark's head.
And the last sound I heard was my own voice, screaming a word I didn't know I could say:
"BURN."
Then—
Fire.
Everywhere.
Orange flames erupted from my body like I was the sun exploding. The soldiers screamed. The needle fell from my temple. The hands holding me let go.
And through the flames, I heard a voice—my mother's voice, but not really, echoing from somewhere deep inside me:
"Rise, little Pyromancer. Rise and burn."
I opened my eyes.
And the entire vault was on fire.