“It says things like ‘kill the pretty huntress’ and ‘burn the forest down’ and ‘I’m hungry.’”
She turned and there was almost a smile on her face. “Really?”
“Maybe not the hungry bit. That might just be my stomach talking.”
“You think I’m pretty?” she asked.
Blast. Had he said that?
Kelan looked away. “My pyra has its own opinions. Not all of which I share.”
She laughed. “Well, there’s not much of me to see anyway, except my nose and my eyes.”
He bit his lip. He had seen her legs, and they were very fine legs. And then there were those rare moments when she took off her heavy coats. It wasn’t hard to imagine the curves of her body beneath her tunic and leggings.
“Does it truly want to kill me?”
“It’s not just you. It wants to kill everyone. It wants to watch the world burn.”
“Good to know I’m not special, then.”
Kelan sighed. Why couldn’t they walk side by side so he could see her face, so he could know if she was teasing him or not? She was so hard to read, and he could never tell if what she said was what she truly believed.
“I’m not dangerous,” he said.
“I’ll be sure to tell that to your commanding officer when I drop you off.”
“Sol—”
“How long do you have? Before your pyra takes you?”
He had asked himself that several times. How many more times could he use fire before he lost control of his other hand, and then his legs? A season? A few weeks?
She stopped and turned toward him.
“Sol, if it comes to that I—”
She shushed him and placed a finger to her lips, staring at the trees to the right of them. Her lips and nose were pink, and her cheeks flushed from the hike. Her eyes were green like the fields during spring and her lashes were long and dark.
“There,” she whispered, pointing toward the trees. Birds chirped somewhere in the forest nearby. “Quietly this time, slide in your snowshoes instead of stomping. Can you use your pyra?”
He nodded and followed her through the woods, trying to be as quiet as she was. He watched her with silent awe, and wondered, as he often had the last few days, if she wasn’t a dryad. The Ulves were a part of her in a way he couldn’t understand, and there was a sort of magic in the way she moved through the forest. The trees above her swayed as she passed between them, and it seemed as though they were trying to reach out and touch her with their long, feathery, pine-needle fingers. The wind blew through their branches and the trees whispered to her, Sol, Sol, Sol, and then fell into a reverent hush as they watched her.
She stopped them near a tree and Kelan spotted the birds flitting in the branches above.
“Can you make the explosion bigger?” she asked. “Wider?”
He nodded. Kelan imagined where the birds would fly when they heard his fire and focused on shooting his flames in a wide arc.
Burn! his pyra hissed.
The flames struck the tree, and several birds dropped. The rest swirled into the sky in a chattering flurry as the snow melted off the branches.
Kelan’s pyra twisted fire through his hand once more, and gathered weak flames there of its own accord. Kelan snapped the manacle on his wrist and the fire died.
He kicked at the snowdrifts as they walked toward the tree. He didn’t have much time at all. With one hand already gone, he’d be surprised if he made it to spring.
Sol grinned as she plucked the charred birds from the snow. One was still alive, and she deftly broke its tiny neck.
“They’re small, but it certainly beats eating nothing. Good job, Kelan.”
He gave her a half-smile.
She cocked her head. “You aren’t happy?”
“I hate using my pyra.”
He shivered and unlocked the manacle again. He hated needing his pyra. If he could, he would consider wearing the manacle all the time.
How can you say that? How can you refuse the strength I give you? The warmth? Would you be weak like the rest of them?
“I’m sorry I made you use it,” she said.
Kelan looked up and met her eyes. “One day it’ll take me. Sometimes I think, what’s the point of swimming against the current? I’m so tired of it. I can’t do this forever.”
“Don’t give up.” She smiled at him, and his heart squeezed in his chest unexpectedly. “Keep swimming, Kelan.”
Kelan stared at the starry night sky. Sol had already snuggled in against him, and her slow breathing reminded him of the whispering of the ocean waves he used to hear at night in Duhavn. He resisted the urge to wrap his arm around her, to pull her in closer.
Something had changed. Had it been as simple as a smile? Or was it just because they had spent so much time together, or because they shared a bed every night? Whatever it was, if she knew what he felt she’d push him away.
She didn’t even like to touch him. Even if she didn’t call him Demon anymore, there was nothing he could do to change her mind about him. She had said as much. He was a source of warmth, and now food, and nothing more.
Sol didn’t even see him as human. He had no hope she could see him as a man.
Take her, then, his pyra hissed. You are larger, stronger. Why must we submit to her weakness? Why must we allow her to insult us and berate us when we could have what we want?
Kelan clenched his fists and shoved his pyra away, but he was too tired. The hiking had been uphill all day, and the physical toll of the climb and starvation left him powerless before his pyra’s whisperings. He had eaten barely enough to keep his hunger at bay, and now after lying awake in bed for an hour, his hunger had returned, gnawing at him, curling and twisting in his stomach, and his pyra gnawed at his mind.
Why not take her as prisoner? You can force her to please us. It is only what is right after all she has made us suffer.
Kelan rolled over and sat up, breathing hard. His pyra had taken whatever he felt for Sol and twisted it into something dark. Something evil. It made him want what was not his and flooded his body with fire.
I could give you everything you want, Kelan, it whispered.
He scrambled to his feet and trudged into the woods, away from Sol. If only he could walk away from his pyra, too, or rip it from his mind and bury it in the snow. He sat on a fallen log and dropped his head into his hands.
She hates us, Kelan. Burn her. Destroy her.
He grabbed the emberstone manacle from his pocket, but his pyra snaked its fire through his arm and into his hand. His hand spasmed, and he dropped the shackle in the snowdrift. Fear gripped Kelan, forcing his pyra back as he dropped to his knees and scrambled in the snow, frantically searching for the fallen manacle. A faint red glow emanated from beneath a layer of snow, and he dug out the emberstone and clipped it over his wrist.
He sank into the snow, letting the cold seep into his bones as his mind and body emptied of his pyra’s presence. He reveled in the stillness of his mind, the peace. Without his pyra, his body trembled from exhaustion and hunger and cold, but for a moment he could look up into the stars and just be Kelan. Be human. Would Sol accept him if he wore his manacle all the time? Was he even strong enough to live without his pyra?
He unlocked the manacle and slipped it into his pocket. Warmth spread through his body again as he trudged back toward camp.
Sol sat up on their furs, staring at the sky. He entered the clearing, and she turned toward him.
“You’re awake?” he asked.
“Were you trying to run away?”
“I was . . . getting some air.”
“You probably got lost and realized you couldn’t find your way without me.”
“Probably,” he said.
He brushed the snow off his clothes and sat next to her. She scooted in close and rested her head on his shoulder, shivering.
“Sorry I woke you,” he said.
“You didn’t. I got cold.”
/> Kelan let out a quick breath and rubbed his hand through his hair, his heart catching in his throat, then he slid his arm around her shoulder. She settled in against him and his heart raced.
“You were gone for a long time. I thought you had left.”
“Where would I go? Like you said, I’d be lost without you.”
Her lips twitched into a smile. “That’s right.”
They should go to bed, but he didn’t want to have to let go yet. “Have you ever seen a dryad?” It was one of the many things he’d been thinking about all day.
He couldn’t see her face since she was nestled in against his chest, and her voice was guarded. “Why do you ask?”
“Everyone grows up hearing stories about the Ulves and the creatures that live there. I hadn’t thought they were true, but then we heard the ice wolves. . . .”
“All the stories about the Ulves have at least a grain of truth.”
She was quiet for a moment, and he thought that was all she would tell him, but then she spoke again. “There’s a meadow near one of the peaks south of here. My pa took me once when I was a girl, during the summer. There’s a lake there that’s the same color as the sky and the greenest grass I’ve ever seen. And in the middle of the meadow there’s this beautiful oak tree. Oaks don’t grow that high up in the mountains, but this one does.
“I’ve never seen another tree like it. There’s something . . . alive about it. I don’t know how to describe it. It has roots and it can’t move, but somehow it seemed like it was dancing through the grass when the wind blew. And I thought I saw a woman’s face among the leaves.”
“I’d like to see that one day.”
“Dryads steal men’s hearts. I’d stay away, if I were you.”
She lay down and he kept his arm wrapped around her as he lay down beside her. He pulled her in close so their faces were just a breath away as he covered their bodies with the furs.
She went rigid in his arms. “Kelan.”
He cleared his throat and slid his arm back to his side. Who had he been fooling? He was warmth to her, and nothing more.
Chapter 21
Sol
Solstice. Sol stared up at the sun hiding behind a bank of clouds. Tonight would be the longest night of the year, and the first time she had spent the holiday without her family. Without Pa.
She was nineteen today. There would’ve been rich venison stew, and Solstice buns, and laughter, and warmth. Pa would’ve brought in something big, like he always managed to do at Solstice.
The bow he had made her for her last birthday was gone, buried by the avalanche. Now she had nothing to remember him by but the paths he had taught her through the mountains and the emberstone he had made her promise not to touch.
“The first thing I’m going to eat when we get to Cassia is a big watermelon,” Kelan said.
He huffed behind her as they hiked. They were both getting weaker. Little birds and a potato weren’t enough for them to hike all day. At least today would be a short day, with little daylight, and she would be warm tonight, lying next to him.
“A watermelon? You do realize it’s the middle of winter, right? Me, I want a turkey leg. A big juicy one.” She looked behind her, hoping to see Kelan smile. He did, and she smiled back.
“Turkey leg. That does sound nice.”
Sol forced herself to face forward again. Why did she keep looking at him? Why did she keep wanting to make him laugh?
The crested the top of a rise, and she stopped them at the top.
Beside her, Kelan’s shoulders slumped. “The mountains go on forever.”
“Not forever. I think it’s mostly downhill from here. We’ve got only a few days left until we get to Cassia.”
She sat in the snow and looked down the mountain. Her calf still ached a bit, but more worrisome was the lightness in her head and the way her legs shook and trembled with each step.
Just a few more days. They would make it. And tonight, they’d have something to eat at least. She had set a trap last night and they had woken to find a Solstice gift from the gods: a rabbit. With daylight so short they didn’t have time to cook it in the morning, but they would have a kind of Solstice feast tonight.
Sol glanced at the sun again, hanging above the peaks on the west. “We’ve got about an hour of daylight left. We’ll hike a bit more and find a good campsite.”
Kelan groaned as he stood. His handsome face was now covered by a short, scraggily beard, and his black, curly hair was ratted into messy tangles. He looked haggard, all the humor and the energy gone from his face.
“You all right?”
He nodded and gave her a half-smile. “Come on. Let’s keep going.”
He offered her a hand up, and she took it.
Sol lifted the spitted rabbit from the fire and Kelan cut it in half with her knife, right through the middle. He always split everything in half, even though Kelan was bigger than she was, and probably hungrier, too. She wouldn’t have complained if he’d taken a slightly larger portion, but he never had. He’d never even asked.
She took off her gloves and lifted her portion of steaming rabbit with her fingers. Her mouth watered as she took a grateful bite, and she savored the taste of it in her mouth before chewing. She had tried to leave as much skin as possible so there would be some fat to the animal, and this was the best they’d eaten in days.
“It’s Solstice,” she said.
Kelan looked up. “Today? Why didn’t you tell me?”
She shrugged. Why hadn’t she told him? Because it was painful to think she shared this night with a Flameskin, who Pa hated, and painful to think of being without her family.
“It’s your birthday. Blessings to you, Sol. I wish you’d told me earlier. I would’ve gotten you a turkey leg as a present.”
She blushed and took a bite of rabbit. This was why she hadn’t said anything, because now he was going to make her feel awkward.
Kelan stuck his bare hand in the drift beside him and grabbed a handful of snow. “We’re so lucky to get to spend the holiday this way. Look at these delicious Solstice buns.” He sprinkled some snow on their portions of rabbit. “We forgot the icing,” he said, and grinned.
She laughed, and it was a real laugh, the way she would’ve laughed with her family.
“How old are you now?”
“Nineteen.” She flicked her gaze toward him. “And you?”
“You’re an old maid, Sol. I won’t be nineteen until the summer.”
She rolled her eyes at him as she cleaned the bones with her teeth. When she finished, Kelan stood and held out a hand toward her.
“Dance with me.”
“What?”
“Mountain folk don’t dance on Solstice? We used to gather in the square in the city to dance, and everyone came to drink cider and eat Solstice buns.”
“We dance,” she said hesitantly.
“Please? This can’t be my first Solstice without dancing.”
“And your first Solstice without a Solstice kiss, no doubt.”
He grinned. “No doubt.”
She took his hand, and his skin was warm and tingly, as if there were sparks popping in his blood. Did he always feel like this? She couldn’t remember touching his skin before. Her cheeks flushed as he lifted her and wrapped his arms around her.
“Your skin is . . . prickly.” Touching Kelan was like touching an emberstone.
He frowned and looked away, as he turned them slowly in the trampled snow beside their campsite. “Is there anything you don’t hate about me?” he asked after a moment.
“No, I don’t hate it. I was surprised is all. I’ve never touched you before.”
“You don’t hate touching me?”
“No. I don’t.” Touching him made her feel warm, and her pulse quicken, and her stomach flutter.
Kelan smiled. “I wouldn’t have chosen to spend the Solstice in the mountains, but I’m glad you’re here with me. I wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.”
He met her eyes, and her breath caught in her throat. She felt so close to him now, dancing like this. Closer than they had ever been lying together at night, which didn’t make any sense. But there was something about looking into his eyes that made everything seem different. He wasn’t just a Flameskin whose body warmed her, he was Kelan.
She cleared her throat, but she couldn’t think of anything to say. Being with Kelan wasn’t like spending time with her family, but in a way, she was glad she wasn’t home, so she didn’t have to relive those memories.
And Kelan was . . . kind, and he made her laugh. She didn’t know anyone who could have endured this kind of hardship and still found a way to joke about it. And he was handsome, as much as she didn’t want to admit it. She liked the amused turquoise of his eyes, and his tall, broad frame, and the strong hands he had wrapped around her.
But every time she looked at him there was that gnawing guilt, the thought that she had betrayed Pa’s memory by befriending a Flameskin.
But how could she think about Pa when Kelan was holding her like this, when they were dancing together? She had never felt so warm before. Every time Kelan looked at her, her cheeks flushed, and his skin made her fingers tingle where she held his hand. He started humming, low in his throat, the Song of Solstice.
It was a year ago, Solstice Eve. Sol sat beside Pa, scanning the snow for movement. They had been there for hours, and Sol was cramped and cold, but beneath the cold ran that warm undercurrent of energy from the hunt, and the anticipation of Solstice. Sol glanced sidelong at Pa. She had seen the bow he had been making for her, and it was beautiful. It was impossible to keep secrets from her now that she knew all his hiding places, but she would pretend to be surprised when he gave it to her in the morning.
Pa hummed the Song of Solstice and slapped his gloved hand on his knee. “Well, I guess the gods didn’t bless us with a Solstice feast tomorrow. I’ll go check the traps to see if we’ve got anything. We’ll head in when I get back.”
Firefrost: A Flameskin Chronicles Novel Page 9
