Free From the Embers (The Born in Flames Trilogy) by Candace Knoebel Page B

how, and that was to start from the beginning. Hours passed as we made our way through the heaping mess of treasure. Fenn had shucked out of his jacket and rolled the sleeves up, resting against a table while digging through a mound of papers.
    Even though I wanted out of my dress, I kept it on, knowing that there would probably never be another time where I could wear it again. I had just turned to a small jewelry box when Fenn cleared his throat.  
    “Come look at this,” he said. The chill in his tone of voice prickled at the back of my neck. I walked over to the chest he was digging through.
    “What is it?”
    He handed me a partially burnt, dated picture, and stared past me, his face pale, twisting an uncomfortable knot in my stomach. The back had scribbling across it that had been smudged with ash. The only letters that I could make out were a Z and a D. A sick feeling replaced my earlier butterflies.
    I carefully turned the photo over, willing it to be charred. But it wasn’t. The perfectly clear face of a teenage boy holding a staff taller than him stood front and center. There was a glint of an evil smile on his lips.
    There was no mistaking who it was. Those deep, brown eyes were full of malevolence so thick it was almost churning in the depths of his pupils. I felt instantly pulled to him as I stared into his dark eyes.
    Fenn snatched it out of my hand. “It’s him, isn’t it?” Hatred curved his words. His fingers seemed to curl around the photo with an urge to crumble it to pieces.
    I only nodded.
    He dropped it into the small box he had found, cursing.
    “I don’t even look like him. Thank The Fates.”
    “That’s a blessing,” I blurted out, thinking of Zane and how closely he resembled his father. The old tugging sensation crept in, buckling my knees. I grabbed on to a nearby table for support. Fenn turned around on cue. “You okay?”
    “I’m fine. I’m not scared of him anymore,” I said, my voice quivering with uncertainty as I regained my composure. What I really felt was that if I said it enough, maybe it would be true.
    “You shouldn’t be, Rory,” he said for the millionth time. “There’s other stuff here. Look.” He took the box and placed it on the table, dust flying up in a grayish white cloud.
    “I wonder why Kaede has all of this stuff,” I said after sneezing twice.
    “Bless you,” Fenn said as he pillaged through the box.
    After pulling out the first layer of photos, we stumbled upon three spectols—a small compass-like gadget that could record a moment in time with one half, and relay it to another with the other half of the gadget. Two were complete having both halves, and the third spectol had only the side that played out. They all had the three symbols of The Fates on them.
    After perking up a brow at Fenn, I picked one up. There was a small tag around the dial that was labeled Zordon. I took in a deep breath and turned the small dial counter clockwise. The spectol floated out of my hand as light peeked out from the inside.
    The room around us faded away, melding and transforming into the Hall of Knowledge. Fenn reached out and took my hand in his, gripping it tightly.
    A man appeared before us. He wore the same pristine white robe that Lexi wore. His head lifted up just enough to show a set of large round eyes glowing white. Screeching overtook the room. It was a Fate. I covered my ears, trying to tune out the awful, painful sound.
    “How are we supposed to decipher this?” I shouted over the screeching.
    “Extium!” Fenn shouted, closing the spectol. Immediately the screeching vanished, replaced by the sound of flickering flames inside the Artifact Chamber. We stared at each other for a long time. The distant sound of cheery music seeped in from above, drowning out the quiet pounding behind my eyes.
    There were no words for what I was thinking as we stood there motionless. “This could be great,” Fenn said excitedly. He turned to me. I watched him