Before She Ignites

by Jodi Meadows

  There was a scuffle. A cacophony of voices. The clatter of iron. And screeching.

  I held on for five seconds.

  Someone shouted that they would not leave me, but I couldn’t tell who. The rumble and rush in my ears was overwhelming.

  Ten seconds.

  I was going to die like this. I was certain of it.

  Twenty seconds.

  If everyone didn’t evacuate, they’d die, too.

  Thirty.

  Forty.

  Forty-one.

  Forty-two.

  Please, Darina, I prayed. Please, Damyan.

  Forty-three.

  I had to hold on.

  Forty-four.

  Forty-five.

  I held on as long as I could, but my vision blackened into the deepest night, and my ears became deaf to all but the roaring demand for release.

  And then I burst into a thousand stars.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  IT WAS EXHILARATING, REALLY.

  Exploding.

  Being shred asunder.

  Burning like a hundred thousand galaxies.

  Fire rippled over my skin. When I screamed, strange muscles stretched and flexed until I reached every end of this prison, and finally I tore myself free.

  Of the tight stone walls.

  Of aching hunger.

  Of desperate uncertainty.

  I was bigger than all that now. Stronger. Brighter. I was awake.

  My roar could shatter mountains, and my wings could black out the sun. Once I’d been a girl, but now I was more. The sparks ignited. Ashes swarmed around me. And this was only the beginning.

  Fire blazed from my heart, rushing across my skin and pulling my eyes wide until I could see through the shuddering earth, up to the sky, and into the cores of the stars themselves. They were so very hot, and bright, and lonely. I wanted to pluck them out of the sky and wear them as jewels around my throat, but then I was larger and hotter, expanding into the farthest stretches of the night. A thousand trails of radiance burned in my wake, spanning centuries.

  Nothing could contain me as I soared through the blackness between worlds and breathed in the devastating glory of darkdust.

  I was immense. Immeasurable. Infinite.

  I bridged the spaces between stars with my fingertips. I crossed galaxies within breaths. Aeons poured through me like thoughts, and my inferno heart beat with the tempo of the end of the world.

  If this was what it felt like to die, it was almost a mercy.

  BUT THEN.

  My heart beat a new rhythm.

  One. Two.

  One— Two—

  One. Two— Three.

  One. Two—

  M-I-R-A.

  Mira.

  Mira Minkoba.

  AGAIN, I COLLAPSED.

  I plummeted through the stars, falling to a world that glowed with crystalline light, with islands shaped like gods, and an ever-encroaching mainland. The waves reached up to greet me.

  My fall left streaks of embers and ash drifting in the dark sky, and slowly I became aware: my wings were gone, my brilliant light had faded, and my sense of rapture evaporated.

  I was a girl again.

  Shivering.

  In the dark.

  In the soundless void.

  Alone.

  NOT ALONE.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  I OPENED MY EYES TO PURE DARKNESS.

  It was familiar now, this complete blackness. I knew it well enough to brace for the panic—

  But the panic didn’t come. It was all burned up.

  Rubble bit into my knees where I knelt on the hard floor. When I groaned, there was no sound, not even a rumble inside my head. But air stirred, and my skin itched, and I knew I was alive.

  I tried not to be disappointed.

  ::Mira.::

  The tapping came on my shoulder.

  “Aaru?” But the darkness swallowed up my voice. I lifted my hands until my knuckles brushed against tattered fabric, and then I found his shoulders. I let my fingers curl over his skin, feeling the ridges of bone. ::Aaru?::

  ::You’re alive.::

  I nodded—pointless, because he couldn’t see it. But his hand cupped my cheek and everything inside me seized.

  ::Are you all right?:: he asked.

  I felt tiny. Frail. My whole body trembled and a sense of loss folded around me like a silk cloak. But I was whole. The dark and silence were probably Aaru’s doing; it would come back, and then I could take better stock of my injuries. ::Yes,:: I said. ::And you?::

  ::Unharmed.:: His fingertips breezed over my ear and down my jaw. How could such a simple touch make everything inside me feel so complicated?

  ::Where are the others?:: I asked.

  ::They ran. Your friend took them. The dragon, too.::

  ::But not you? ::

  ::I could not go. I fell at your feet and pretended to be dead.::

  ::Did they all escape?::

  ::I don’t know.::

  The spell of silence eased, and gradually, I became aware of the sound of my breath, the patter of rocks somewhere nearby, and the deep thrum of the world. A gentle glow rose up like mist.

  Ruins.

  The cellblock was in ruins. Noorestone dust floated through the air, lighting rubble and hollows and complete destruction. There was a small crater around Aaru and me, filled with black ash.

  I’d done this.

  I couldn’t say how—I suddenly didn’t remember anything after yelling for my friends to escape—but I knew I’d done this. A fact. Like numbers. Like objects falling. Like daylight fading.

  Aaru watched me taking stock of the place that used to be our prison.

  I dropped back and sat on my feet. “Why did you stay?”

  He took my hand in his, both of us with a faint sheen of powdered noorestone making our bodies glow, and tapped his words into my palm. ::You stayed with me after the chair.::

  “But it was my fault you were there to begin with.”

  His mouth pulled in a slight frown. ::You came back for me when you could have escaped from Bopha.::

  “You risked your life.” I swept my free hand around the room, stirring the motes of light. “How are you still alive?”

  ::Silence.:: He lowered his eyes to our joined hands. ::You were covered in flame, like a creature made of raging wildfires and noorestone light.::

  “So you silenced everything?”

  He bowed his head. ::Like before.::

  All the noorestones in here. All thirty-four of them that had been flooding their energy into me. He’d smothered all of them? I couldn’t imagine what kind of courage it took to stay here and help me.

  ::You control noorestones.::

  A strangled laugh fell out of me. “I don’t know what I do. I feel like it happens to me.”

  ::Practice might help.:: He pressed his mouth into a line. ::I need to practice too.::

  “I’ve never heard of anyone channeling noorestone fire.” I lowered my eyes. “I don’t know what it means, and I’m afraid of what will happen when people find out.”

  ::I will keep your secret.::

  As if he could tell anyone. He hadn’t said a word in nineteen days. Maybe twenty; I wasn’t sure how much time had passed since Altan dragged me into the interrogation room. Aaru hadn’t spoken, though, and that was my fault. Like all this destruction, his silence was because of me. He couldn’t tell anyone. Not unless he wrote it down, or someone else learned the quiet code, and—

  Aaru bit his lower lip, not quite disguising a smile.

  “Did you just make a joke?”

  He lifted a shoulder, still with that smile. ::Really, I will not tell a soul if you do not want.::

  “Thank you, Aaru.”

  His smile faded. A shame, because he had a nice smile. ::Can you stand?::

  My legs trembled, but I got to my feet, again taking in the destruction of the first level. The noorestones themselves were all gone—there was only the dust floating t
hrough the air. It probably wasn’t safe to breathe. “Let’s go. I need to make sure the others escaped before I . . .”

  Exploded. Or didn’t explode, if Aaru had stopped it.

  “Thank you,” I said. “For staying with me. For helping.”

  He touched my shoulder—the one Altan had bashed earlier. It didn’t hurt anymore, though, like the pain had been burned away in the noorestone blaze. ::I didn’t know if I could. I knew only that I had to try.::

  I wanted to ask why—was it for the sake of everyone, or for me?—but I couldn’t make the words come. Not when I wanted him to say he’d stayed behind because he wouldn’t leave me. I knew better than that.

  But there was a moment. Two moments. He looked at me like he was waiting for something, too.

  Maybe he was waiting for me.

  I closed the space between us so we were toe-to-toe, and when he took my hand and pressed my palm to his chest, I counted racing heartbeats.

  Cautiously, as though he wasn’t sure whether he should, he brushed my hair off my forehead. Then nothing. Utter stillness. His fingertips lingered on my temple, and I looked up to read the confusion and concern on his face.

  On Idris, being this close, our hands on faces and chests—it was too intimate for the unmarried. And on Damina, no one would think twice about two people—especially people who’d been through what we had—finding comfort in physical contact.

  So we stood there as the noorestone dust began to settle, indecision holding us in place. Wanting. Hoping. Too afraid to move because what would the other think?

  A glance shattered everything. Aaru’s gaze darted to my cheek, and his expression turned thoughtful.

  Because it had healed? My shoulder had, so why not my face?

  Hope building in my chest, I pressed trembling fingers against my cheek.

  The cut was healed, but the evidence was not gone.

  In its place was a scar the length of four fingertips, slightly puckered in the center. It felt old, but Elbena had cut me only a decan ago.

  Of course Aaru had noticed it. It was huge. It was hideous. He’d seen me before, not when I was pretty, but before I’d been damaged, and he knew the difference between the real Mira and this cut-up echo. I ducked my face and turned away from him.

  ::Mira?:: he tapped on my shoulder. ::Are—::

  “Let’s go.” My voice broke only a little, but the knot of anxiety gathered in my chest again, a dim background pain I’d long ago learned to ignore.

  Without another word, I led him from our cellblock.

  To freedom.

  THE HEART OF the Great Warrior was in terrible shape.

  Once-high walls had crumbled. Fallen banners shrouded statues. Entire rooms had caved in. From the tremors? From me?

  It was gone, though, and I had no idea how many warriors and servants had survived—if any had, or if I was responsible for innumerable deaths.

  Aaru and I headed for the dragon exit. The giant doors hung open like a slack jaw, and inside we crossed a space that had once been resplendent, but was now a rubble-filled memory.

  This far from the first level, a few noorestones had survived. I took a pair to light our way and hoped it would be enough. Aaru, for his part, did not touch the crystals. Didn’t speak. Didn’t tap. Seemed somewhat unwilling to look at me.

  Of course. He couldn’t unsee that scar.

  We wandered the dragon area for a while, searching for the exit, before Aaru held up a hand for me to listen.

  “No one’s in there.” That was Ilina’s voice, cracked from weeping. “They’re both dead.”

  “I have to look anyway.” Hristo. I’d know the timbre of his rumble anywhere. “I have to see her with my own eyes before I believe it.”

  “You saw her start to burn up. Looking now will just hurt more. If there’s anything of her left. For Damina’s sake, do you want to see her charred corpse?” Her voice choked with tears, but I knew she wouldn’t cry now, even in front of Hristo. Ilina always tried to save her tears for when the two of us were alone.

  “Then we’ll take her back home where she belongs. She shouldn’t be left here.”

  It was so good to hear their voices that I almost didn’t move, but after one moment’s hesitation, I glanced back at Aaru and said, “Come on!” Then I took off running. “Ilina! Hristo!”

  Ten strides. Twenty. I careened around the corner and crashed into them, but Hristo caught me in his arms and squeezed. Ilina threw herself in with us so that we were all hugging each other so tightly I couldn’t breathe. But I didn’t care. My friends were here. And even if Ilina—understandably—assumed I was dead, she’d come with Hristo to find me. They would never abandon me, not even in death.

  “You’re alive!” Ilina pulled back. “What happened? The last time we saw you—”

  “I don’t know.” I didn’t want to talk about exploding, or the way the noorestones reacted to me, or anything relating to our escape. I just wanted to get out of here. “I don’t know what happened or how I came out of it. When I woke up, the noorestones had all exploded into powder—”

  “That explains why you’re glowing,” Ilina said.

  “—and it was just Aaru and me.”

  He’d hung back, quietly observing the three of us, and when everyone looked at him, he just nodded in greeting.

  “I thought you were dead.” Ilina reached for him, as though to draw him into all this hugging, but he jerked back like she might burn him. “Sorry,” she said. “I don’t know you, I guess. I suppose not everyone celebrates survival the same way.”

  “He’s fine, too,” I said, even though he was far from fine. “But what Gerel said before is true—he doesn’t talk anymore.”

  “Oh.” Ilina frowned. “I talk enough for all of us.”

  Hristo grunted and glanced at Aaru. “She means it.”

  Aaru dropped his gaze to his feet.

  Face burning with shame, I turned to Hristo. “Did Gerel and Chenda get out, too? And Kelsine?”

  He nodded. “Gerel and Chenda are securing supplies. Kelsine is waiting outside. I’ve seen half a dozen warriors roaming around here already. We need to get out before they really start searching. Gerel said she knows a place we’ll be safe for a while.”

  “That’s good.” It was a relief to know they were alive. I couldn’t imagine what I’d have done if any of them had died because of me. “What about Tirta? Or Altan and his people? The other prisoners?”

  Hristo shook his head. “I don’t know about Tirta. Altan is alive. We saw him get out, along with at least twenty warriors. The prisoners we released are safe, I think, but I’m not sure. The others—no. I don’t think anyone evacuated the other levels. Even if they’d wanted to, there wasn’t time. We barely escaped before the blast wave hit.”

  The blast wave.

  What had I done?

  I glanced at Aaru, but he avoided my eyes.

  What wouldn’t he tell me?

  A lot, apparently. I bent to pick up the noorestones I’d dropped earlier. “Lead the way, Ilina. There’s a lot we need to discuss when we get to Gerel’s safe place.”

  True to the warnings, we had to duck out of sight three times because of warriors, but it wasn’t long before we reached a huge, caved-in door where the dragons must have been let in and out before the Mira Treaty went into effect. And after, apparently. It was hard to believe that the Drakon Warriors had so brazenly defied the treaty.

  Or maybe it wasn’t. Altan had none of the qualities I’d always assigned the famed warriors in my mind.

  Now, shattered noorestones glowed coolly in the rubble, bright reminders of what I’d done. Or the earthquake. I couldn’t be sure that this was all my doing.

  “How do we get out?” I looked around for a secondary door.

  “Up there.” Hristo pointed to a small space in the top where sunlight shone in, warm and gold, like honey. I couldn’t wait to touch it.

  It took some effort, but eventually the four of us climbed up
the shifting stones and squeezed through the hole.

  We emerged into a sun-drenched field, fragrant with wildflowers and honeysuckle. Green grass spread before us, with nothing to indicate a Pit entrance except the remnants of an immense door cut into the side of a mountain.

  I knelt and ran my fingers through the blades of grass. Never had I been so relieved to see something so simple. We were out. Free.

  A sharp, familiar cry sounded from above. And then another.

  My heart jumped as I looked up to find two winged shapes diving toward us, one silver, and one gold. My arm lifted before my brain told it to, because my heart recognized her: LaLa. My little flower.

  A golden streak landed with a thump. Talons dug into my hand as she balanced herself, but stopped short of breaking skin when she noticed I wasn’t wearing a glove. “Hello, darling.” I pulled her to my chest and laughed as she started to lick the noorestone dust from my skin.

  Two steps away, Ilina was already holding Crystal, stroking the tiny dragon’s head and spine.

  “Have you been searching for us?” I murmured. “You must have looked everywhere.”

  LaLa head-bumped my chin and rubbed. The ridges of her scales scraped across my skin—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to feel like chastisement.

  “I won’t leave you again, little lizard.” I kissed the top of her head and breathed in her scents of lightning and fire, of dust and sunlight.

  Hristo watched us with a smile, but Aaru stood in the background wearing that same expression from before—when he’d noticed my scar. There was something curious about it, something a little scared as well. But when he caught my gaze, a flutter of surprise erased the fear, and then his face turned neutral.

  He’d stayed with me through the noorestones, risking his own life to save mine. So I trusted him. Of course I did. But he’d slipped just now. He was so used to being invisible, and maybe so exhausted, that he’d forgotten to guard his expression. Against me, it seemed.

  I tilted my head so my hair fell across my cheek. “Do you want to meet LaLa?”