Skyfire by Skye Melki-Wegner Read Free Book Online Page A

she nods, a cold devastation behind her eyes. ‘I know. I know we can’t. It’s just …’
    â€˜This isn’t what you were expecting?’ I say.
    She nods again.
    â€˜Join the club,’ Teddy says. ‘I figured we’d be living it up in fancy spa baths, watching alehouse dancers and sculling champagne out of honey-melons. Dunno about you lot, but I’m not seeing a lot of melons around here.’
    â€˜Just leaves,’ Lukas says.
    Teddy brightens. ‘Hey Danika, maybe you could whip up some of that leaf tea. Good way to fend off hunger.’
    â€˜I thought you hated my tea,’ I say.
    â€˜Yeah, exactly,’ he says. ‘Nausea’s great for keeping your appetite down.’
    I toss a fistful of leaves at his face. Teddy swats them away with a grin. Then his expression grows serious, and he turns to Maisy. ‘Hey, have you ever heard of these firestone things?’
    â€˜Yes, I think so. But …’
    â€˜What?’
    Maisy waves a dismissive hand. ‘My books said they’re just a superstition, like most of the rumours and legends from the Dark Ages.’
    â€˜Well, Bastian doesn’t seem to reckon they’re a superstition,’ Teddy says. ‘I mean, if it’s his job to harvest ’em and all.’
    â€˜What are they?’ I say.
    Maisy hesitates. ‘They grow in the earth, like crystals. And even once they’re harvested, they must be stored in the dirt – buried again like seeds – to retain their power. They draw their magic from the earth itself.’
    â€˜Magic?’
    â€˜Well, they’re supposedly a sort of … conduit,’ Maisy says. ‘Like a radio frequency. A conduit for magic.’
    I stare at her. A conduit for magic? I try to imagine a scattering of stones, with signals bouncing between them like radio waves. An alchemical blast,leaping from stone to stone, beaming its power into the dark.
    â€˜Are you sure?’ I say.
    â€˜No,’ Maisy says. ‘I’m just telling you what the stories say.’
    Lukas frowns and glances skywards, ensuring that Bastian is out of earshot. ‘My father was obsessed with this land,’ he says. ‘Even mentioning it was enough to make his blood boil – he wouldn’t even tell me its name!’
    â€˜That’s why Quirin wouldn’t let his smugglers cross the Valley, isn’t it?’ I say. ‘Because King Morrigan had such a strange fixation on this place, and Quirin didn’t want to get the king offside.’
    Lukas nods. ‘I just wish I knew why.’ He gestures at the trees, visibly frustrated. ‘I mean, it doesn’t look special, does it? I don’t see what could cause such an obsession. Maybe the firestones are real.’
    â€˜I reckon this Farran bloke’s got something to do with it,’ Teddy says. ‘Maybe King Morrigan’s got a grudge going on.’ He turns to Lukas. ‘Hey, do kings and lords ever get together for parties? Maybe this Farran bloke cheated at marbles, or spat in your dad’s soup or something.’
    Lukas snorts. ‘Not when their nations are enemies, no.’
    â€˜Damn,’ Teddy says.
    Following Bastian’s lead, we emerge from the woodland into a field of massive boulders. They remind me a little of the Marbles back home – a landscape as lumpy as boiled potatoes. But here, flares of steam blast up in the distance and the rocks sting hotter than cooking pots.
    A heavy smell hangs in the air, like rotten eggs, or restaurant bins in summer. Each whiff brings a wave of memories. Huddling in alleyways. The flies and the stench. The clattering of doors as kitchen hands dumped rotting lettuce and old chunks of meat …
    Clementine pinches her nostrils shut. ‘What in the name of Taladia is that?’
    Teddy takes a deep sniff. ‘Smells like home, I reckon.’
    â€˜Maybe in the part of town where you grew