Page 114 of A Touch of Poison
“Better.” He sighed and nodded. “Thanks for asking. I hope you’re…” He raised his eyebrows. “Recovered?”
Bastian cleared his throat. “So, the Circle of Ash.”
Brynan nodded and rolled a large sheet of paper out over the table, pinning it down with the cups and pots. He sat poised with a pen.
Bastian took us all in. “What do we know so far?”
“It’s rumoured to end the Sleep,” Brynan said, writing as he did.
“Dawn is on its trail.” Rose sat back, both hands wrapped around her drink, but her tense expression belied her apparent calm.
At her side, Faolán growled.
“And they gained information from a text in Albion,” Asher added, stirring honey into his tea. “A text written by the Lark.”
“Then there’s its name.” Lysander wrinkled his nose. “Though I wish I could get hold of the original text. I’m sure Gael decoded it correctly, but whoever wrote the note must’ve mistranslated.”
I scoffed. “Agreed. The Circle of Ash isn’t much of a name for a grand and powerful artefact.”
Lysander flashed me a smile. “Exactly.”
Bastian made a low sound that was almost thoughtful, but it reminded me of Faolán’s growl. “Well, that name is all we have so far. I know Katherine’s been conscious of anything circle adjacent in her reading.” He gave a smile as warm as my coffee. “I trust you’ve been doing the same, Lysander.” This smile was much, much cooler.
A certain tension around Lysander’s eyes suggested he was struggling not to roll them. “Of course.”
“So…” I sat forward, reaching for the cream. Bastian grabbed it for me, along with the sugar, and added a generous amount of both to my cup. “What might this Circle of Ash actually be, then?”
“A ring?” Rose shrugged.
“A ceremonial platter. A wreath. A carved disc of wood with some ritual use.” Lysander ticked off the possibilities on his fingers, while Brynan wrote them down one side of the paper.
“Might not be an item but a place.” At Faolán’s gravelly voice, I sat up.
“What do you mean?” Bastian asked, mirroring me.
“Could be a circle of ash trees. You know,growing.”
“You mean, a specific grove somewhere.” Bastian’s eyes widened as though he hadn’t considered that possibility. He nodded slowly, gaze distant and thoughtful. “We’ve been so focused on the circle… what about the ash? It could be the tree itself, but what else?”
“The wood from the tree, obviously.” Rose rubbed the edge of her cup.
With a nod, Bastian smiled at her. “Let’s not assume anything is obvious. What is ash wood used for?”
“Axles.” Faolán nodded. “It’s strong.”
“Healing and protection.” Asher tugged his lower lip.
Rose pointed her cup at him. “There’s alsoyou.Asher.”
A ripple of laughter ran through the group, easing the sense that we were missing something. Of course we were—that was why this relic or grove or whatever it was had sunk into obscurity.
“Ash is the best firewood,” I murmured as my gaze landed on the fireplace.
Every pair of eyes turned to me. All but Rose frowned. “Fae fires don’t consume fuel in the same way, so I’m not sure you’d realise, but ash burns for a long time with intense heat.” I’d rarely been able to afford it, but one cold winter, when I brought Vespera inside to stop her freezing to death, I’d gone through the house and picked out every item of ash furniture and chopped it up for firewood. That was the main reason we’d survived.
“She’s right.” Rose nodded. “Ma and Pa use it if they need the ovens burning for a long time.” No surprise she knew about fires—she came from a family of bakers.
“Then there are ashes,” I added, lifting one shoulder.
