Incendiary Magic

by Aimee Easterling

  Since then, Sarah had never been quite the same. And now cold shivers racked Mason’s body as he wondered whether his mother would survive losing yet another dragon son, this time to the relentless cooling of the Fade.

  “Our mother is a tough old bird,” Nicholas said, stating the obvious. “She’s lost everything once. She’ll carry through yet again.”

  Mason wanted to beg additional promises from his closest friends, to pass along every bit of half-assed wisdom he’d accumulated while heading up the Aerie alone since Sam’s passing. But time was of the essence and he wouldn’t risk his people’s safety for his own selfish needs.

  Instead, he accepted claps on the back from one twin after the other. Let Zane pull him close in something dangerously resembling a hug while they both ignored liquid droplets falling onto Mason’s shoulder in quick succession.

  The water was condensation from the rocks above, he decided. It couldn’t be his brother’s tears.

  “Here.” Three chips of darkness rattled into his palm before Mason even realized he’d extended his hand. Zane’s lips quirked upwards into a bittersweet grin as the familiar aroma rose to encircle both of their noses. “Jasper gave me some for Sarah,” his brother explained. “But she’d want you to taste it at least once before you go.”

  Chocolate. The morsels were so tiny and fleeting. Mason knew from experience they’d melt in short order in his fiery palm.

  Only his hand was no longer warm, but chilled. And the chocolate retained its form as his brothers offered nods of farewell then leapt out into the emptiness of the winter air.

  In seconds, Mason was alone with nothing but three sweet tidbits, a spitting fire, and the roar of wind as it whipped past the opening of his shelter. Stepping closer to the edge, he stared out into the endless white.

  Chapter 14

  The chocolate tasted like love. Like one long hug from a diminutive woman who seemed to have grown smaller even as Mason stretched upward from boyhood to become an adult in his own right. Like the jewel-toned glint in the eyes of a child who’d spent years as a refugee and couldn’t quite believe she was now free to run and play as she wished throughout the Lord Dragon’s domain. Like a dream of the new under cook someday forgetting her fear and chasing Mason out of her kitchen with a long-handled spoon.

  Chocolate tasted like Fee’s kiss. All flames and excitement and smoldering fire. And like the touch of his treasure’s lips, its effects warmed him from the inside out.

  The other two morsels had begun melting against his fingers when Mason slipped them into his pants pocket for safekeeping. Because, Fade or no Fade, he wasn’t quite ready to leave life behind. Not when he’d yet to enjoy Fee’s delight after tasting a bite of rich, dark chocolate for the very first time.

  So, recklessly, he leapt two-legged from the ledge, shifting in a burst of flame seconds before he connected with rocky ground. And when he soared up toward the starry sky, his body was smaller than usual but still quite capable of carrying itself aloft.

  Unfortunately, the darkness of a winter night had taken the place of falling snow in the minutes since his brothers left. Which presented a problem. Even a dragon’s ability to pick out infrared light did little good when everything both above and below was layered beneath a blanket of cold and ice.

  I have no clue how to find her, Mason realized. In daylight, he could have returned to the charred zone of the former fire and tracked his treasure’s footsteps from the source. But at night? He’d be forced to swoop upon every spark of heat in hopes one might be the woman he ached to hold in his own two arms rather than a rabbit or weasel out for a midnight stroll across the wintry expanse.

  The notion threatened to quench chocolate-kindled flame in his belly, but Mason refused to allow the Fade to gain another foothold before he said goodbye to the woman he loved. Tonight, he was on a mission and the disease that clawed against his life-giving fire could bloody well wait.

  Instead, he forced aching flight muscles to work harder than ever before as he ascended into the frigid heights of the cloudless sky. Moist air solidified into frost as it streamed from draconic nostrils and ice soon coated his cheeks and neck.

  But Mason ignored any discomfort and instead strained his eyes to their utmost. There had to be something for him to see, some clue to point out his missing treasure’s location. If he flew high enough and searched long enough, he had to believe he’d somehow find her again.

  When the long-sought clue finally flared to life, though, Mason almost didn’t believe it existed. Because Fee had made it abundantly clear that she couldn’t disobey the man calling the shots on her mission. That she couldn’t even strategize for fear she’d reveal Mason’s secrets to the fire mage on the other end of the cell phone the minute her dragon flew out of sight.

  So why did magenta magic wink into existence miles away, midway between the brothers’ meeting place and the Aerie they’d left behind? Was it possible yet another mage was out stalking this wintry waste on what was quickly turning into the coldest night of the year?

  Ignoring logic, Mason turned and sped toward the flame even as the glow flickered and went out. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, hoping the light would return.

  Nothing. The violet vision might have been merely another symptom of the Fade, his eyes playing tricks as his body edged ever closer to shutting down. Regardless, he set his bearings on a distant star and winged toward the spot from which the spark had initially come.

  Twenty minutes later, his faith was rewarded as magenta light flickered on once again. It was northwest of him now rather than southeast, as if he’d both overshot and lost his bearings all at once. Or perhaps the source of light had been traveling in the interim just as he had? Regardless, Mason once again latched onto its location and flew into the darkness, the flame in his belly growing just a little brighter as his wings beat against the wintry sky.

  By dawn, he was hovering over a tiny figure that trudged gamely through the snow. Her right heel would be bitterly cold, Mason knew, because his boot had developed a leak at that particular seam, one he’d never bothered to fix while flames were always available to drive moisture away. Her fingers were tucked up into extra-long sleeves. Had he forgotten to offer gloves? And even from this carefully calibrated distance, Mason could see that falling snow had frozen her head scarf onto the strands of damp hair that framed her face.

  But his treasure was alive and well. She had almost attained the Aerie, in fact, although she appeared to be purposefully bypassing the towers as she stuck close to the bank of the river. If she continued along her current trajectory, she would soon reach the reservoir that lay broad and blue along the city’s eastern side.

  Danger. The thought filled his mind even as flame readied itself in his chest. Because his treasure was walking into peril and he didn’t intend to allow anything to harm a hair on her fiery head.

  Previously, Fee had been passing through a dormant portion of the Green where her magenta sparks wouldn’t present a threat to anyone, least of all herself. But now she made her way between trees and vines that retained their leaves, several of those sentient plants reaching out to brush at the mage’s shoulders and arms as she passed.

  Mason itched to wing closer and protect his treasure from the creeping enemy’s assault. But he reined himself in with an effort. She knows what she’s doing, he told himself. She knows I’m here if she needs me.

  Or at least he hoped she did. Fee had never once waved as he circled above her head. Had never even glanced skyward to stare toward the speck of darkness that marked her dragon protector’s location just beneath the low-lying clouds.

  Instead, she’d walked relentlessly onward, twenty thousand steps then a flicker of light. Twenty thousand steps then another flare to prove to them both that she was still alive.

  Or was the magic meant to prove her obedience to a man on the other end of the cell phone instead? A man who might even now be watching from the top of the Sunsphere where Sarah
used to stand and smile as her boys cavorted in the summer breeze?

  Ignoring the sliver of doubt that threatened to take up residence in his skull, Mason swooped northward then eased toward the reservoir from the direction opposite his treasure’s much slower approach. Because Fee shouldn’t be the only one zeroing in on that particular location now that the sun was fully visible in the sky. His brothers would be in the vicinity as well, guarding defenseless humans as the latter slipped out of tunnels and made their way to riverboats poised to ferry the Aerie’s people upstream to safety with the new light of day.

  Sure enough, the first boat was already being poled out of its hidden dock as Mason swung closer, the ferry master’s long beard identifying him even from a distance. Lord Dragon bared his teeth in draconic approval. He’d known he could count on the wily old man to evade pursuers and protect the boat he treated like a first-born child, all while maintaining the usual spring in his step.

  But wait. Was that Fee jumping nimbly onto the deck? Was that Fee grabbing the older man’s arm and speaking so intently that her companion was left shaking his head as if attempting to dislodge a pesky gnat from his ear?

  Despite Mason’s best intentions to remain hidden in the thin haze of clouds now shielding the land, the Lord Dragon mantled his heat and drifted lower. As long as he didn’t beat his wings, earth-bound humans might not even notice as he sank down within earshot.

  Before he was low enough to hear, though, something passed between two sets of human hands. A glint of gold, a nod from the ferry master. Then the old man was leaving and Fee stood entirely alone on the deck of the boat.

  She raised that dratted cell phone to her ear then tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the person on the other end to answer. And this time, Mason was close enough to hear Fee’s words when she finally spoke.

  “Papa Bug. I got turned around in the night, ended up at the reservoir instead of the towers. But it’s a good thing. Because there’s something here you need to see. Come as fast as you can. I’ll be waiting.”

  There was something the enemy needed to see? Something like unprotected people soon to be loaded aboard this very same vessel?

  Mason didn’t want to believe the evidence of his own ears. Nonetheless, he found himself swirling away from his treasure, his flame flickering as it prepared to wink out.

  Chapter 15

  Fee emerged from the riverboat’s lower level just as her father’s tall figure appeared on the embankment a few hundred feet away. He was dressed in a robe that appeared to have been created overnight using the fabric from Mason’s embroidered coverlet, all swirling patterns and intricate renditions of flame. Now, more than ever, he looked like what he’d always striven to be—a mage out of legend.

  “Down here!” she called, waving an arm to catch his attention.

  As Malachi picked his way across the slope toward her, Fee attempted to still her restless feet. But, instead, she found herself pacing back and forth across the open deck that had been intended to transport innocent humans away from the Aerie if the worst ever occurred. Now disaster had struck and Fee had selfishly claimed this riverboat for herself.

  “I hope this is important,” Malachi said at last, pausing on the bank only a few feet away from his daughter’s elevated perch. He was out of breath, clouds of white streaming from his mouth at every exhale. And for the first time, Fee wondered if her father’s incessant theater was meant to cover up his waning power as his body succumbed to the indignities of age.

  Looking down onto his head, in fact, she noticed for the first time that Malachi was going bald, his red hair combed carefully backward to cover a thinning spot at the crown. Despite evidence of his mortality, however, Fee felt her shoulders rounding into their typical cringe. “Yes, Papa Bug. I swear it is important.”

  Her companion’s face hardened at the childish endearment and Fee’s eyes dropped to the metal decking at her feet. She waited to hear heavy boot steps thundering toward her, to feel displaced air as he raised an arm for a punishing blow. But when she finally risked a glance out of the corner of one eye, she instead found that her father remained earthbound at the water’s edge.

  “Malachi?” she prodded hesitantly.

  “We both have work to do,” the older mage said after a short pause that froze Fee’s chest and left her unable to breathe. “So tell me what needs to be said with no other ears around, then get off that deathtrap. You’ve wasted enough time already.”

  A tiny haze of flames flickered to life at Fee’s fingertips and she hastily pushed the rebellious appendages behind her back in hopes Malachi wouldn’t notice. Still, her voice was firmer and louder than she’d intended when she finally managed to speak. “I promise this will be worth your while. But it’s faster to show you than to tell you. Come aboard.”

  She expected Malachi to bristle at the request-turned-command. But, instead, he shrugged and backtracked to the plank the ferry master had left affixed between riverboat and shore. Like old times, the two worked harmoniously as they cast off the line and poled the vessel far enough away from the bank so they could start the engine without risking a stray tendril of Green flicking them both off the deck and into the icy danger of water on every side.

  Finally, Fee pulled out the choke and smiled as the engine easily hummed to life. The sound was soothing, the carefully shielded fire even more heartening as it called to her inner flames. Even Malachi’s face brightened a trifle as the sparks of life deep within the metal hulk brushed his habitual aggressions aside.

  That complacency of banked fire bought Fee a precious few minutes of leeway, so the vessel was midway between two distant shores when Malachi’s patience finally wore thin. Eventually, though, his eyes narrowed and his fingers tapped against the railing, prompting Fee to speak quickly before anger could burst free from her companion’s restraints. “The dragons have come back to the Aerie, Father.”

  “They’re here?” This time, Malachi was too startled by the news to complain about the name Fee hadn’t dared use aloud since her mother died.

  Rather than answer, Fee gauged the distance between boat and shore. Were they far enough away from the dam for safety? Were they still close enough to solid land for a fire mage to survive the swim?

  She wasn’t quite sure, and her hesitation was her downfall. A hard hand fell on her shoulder, then she was tumbling through the air, her cheek striking the deck as her hands instead fumbled at a more important task than breaking her fall.

  “I asked you a question, girl.” Malachi’s voice was harsh against her ear, but worse was what she didn’t hear emanating from the belly of the boat. Frantically, Fee pressed harder at the jury-rigged button she’d created out of odds and ends of wire and reused scraps of tape.

  There. The pop was muffled yet present. And now the ear pressed against the cold decking relayed a gush of water playing counterpoint to the engine’s steady hum.

  “Bug?” Her father’s tone turned hesitant as the first inkling of her betrayal sank into his megalomaniacal brain. “What have you done?”

  Rather than answering, Fee pressed cold hands against colder floor panels and levered herself back to her feet. The wire she’d been carefully shielding was irrelevant now, so she let it drop away from freezing fingertips and tucked hands beneath armpits instead.

  Immediately, the scent of dragon rose up from the sweater that encircled her shivering form. She was about to drown—a fire mage’s worst nightmare. But she’d go down surrounded by marshmallows and magic, by hope and strength.

  “That’s not my name.”

  “Fee, then,” her father countered impatiently, stepping back into her personal space.

  Or at least he tried to. But the deck tilted abruptly as its waterlogged belly began dragging the formerly buoyant vessel down toward the reservoir floor. Instead of his usual placid walk, in fact, Malachi ended up clinging to his daughter’s shoulders in an effort to remain erect.

  Arms encircled her in an absurd mimi
cry of a loving hug, and Fee grimaced as she realized it was the only embrace Malachi had ever shared with his only child.

  “That’s not my name either,” she replied, twisting out of his grasp and striding away uphill toward the far end of the vessel. As she marched, the engine roar abruptly stilled, its work ceasing as internal fire winked out.

  Looked like mages weren’t the only beings who couldn’t handle the devastating effects of immersion in water.

  “You’re acting irrational, just like your mother.” Malachi’s voice was gently disappointed now rather than harsh. When orders and blows failed, he turned to reason...or to what passed for reason within his narcissistic, power-hungry brain. “This self-destruction makes no sense. We have a job to do, important work to carry out. And you’ve made your point. So how do we get back to shore?”

  All this time, she had kept her gaze focused on the decking in an attempt to repel her father’s destructive anger. But the absurdity of the gesture finally sank in and she straightened her shoulders to look him directly in the eyes at long last. “We aren’t going anywhere, Father. This is the end.”

  She knew how he’d react even before familiar face twisted and magenta flame gushed from shaking fingertips. Because that was always the third leg of Malachi’s tottery stool. Disobey him beyond blustering commands and twisted logic and the fire mage’s solution was to remove the insubordinate from his presence...and from the world entirely.

  Which shouldn’t have been a problem for a fire mage’s well-trained daughter. After all, she was largely impervious to flames of all sorts, finding the heat invigorating rather than terrifying.

  But even a fire mage could be reduced to ashes if the magic quotient was cranked high enough. And Malachi had drawn deep within himself to create a billowing gust of heat that was beyond even his daughter’s ability to counter.