Flame Guardian

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Flame Guardian Page 12

by Kristin D. Van Risseghem


  The heaviness, the power, the life force of the earth herself. Of Pele, the Hawaiian volcano goddess. She is me and I am her.

  I shift my focus. I move the pressure, the awesome power, through my body, my lungs, my blood, my heat, my being. I gather it into one, all-powerful beam, enough to burst a laser of molten metals through rock and two hundred feet into the sky.

  Concentrating it in my heart, my soul, I shoot all the creation of the mountain straight up and out from my heart. If I could see my own body, I’m sure I look possessed as if an alien spaceship is beaming me up.

  A thunderous crack resounds, vibrating through my body, as a burst of black—orange—yellow blinds me and cuts me like a giant knife. The energy of the center of the earth pushing me with it, jerking me out of the rock, out of the thick destructive lava—I land my body on the hard, steaming, sharp ground.

  Pain sears through me and I scream and writhe in agony. I’m naked and red blistering bubbles form all over my body. The sharp, black rocks tear them open, cutting and slicing me with a thousand knives while the burning lava eats me alive.

  Another blackness overtakes me.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Cold water douses over my body, showers me, cools my torture. I’m under a constant, gentle waterfall, and Torrent’s feet near. The water is soft, yet full enough to remove the pain, the fire. My skin crackles and peels, like a snake shedding its skin, washing away in the slough. I pull my knees in, crouching, my head down. I have no hair, as it has burned off. I’m naked, red, bald, and being given the water of healing life.

  I gasp and cry in gratefulness. My Torrent, my love. It’s in that moment that I know I love him, too. He needs to know. I must survive this.

  I’m gently picked up and placed on a stretcher, but every human contact is a wound of pain screeching through me. I jerk at each touch, and Torrent keeps the water pouring. I barely register the pinch of a needle in my thigh. My world goes black again.

  ***

  What …?

  I am slow to rise to consciousness, confused. Tor is sitting by my side. I can feel his presence, but I have trouble moving my head to look at him. Something is constricting my whole body.

  He jumps up and leans close.

  “What happened?” I mumble. “Why can’t I move?”

  “You were burned all over, Ash. You’re covered in bandages from head to foot, like a mummy.”

  The memory of my coffin, the burning lava, fills me all at once. I can’t move. Only my eyes, nose, and mouth are exposed.

  What must I look like? Tears well my eyes, and my body shakes. He’ll never look at me the same. He won’t love me anymore, who could? I’m ugly, disfigured. No good to anyone. My life is over. I’ve never been vain expcept in this moment.

  Tears seep out, but I can’t help it. I keep my eyes at the ceiling. I expect he’ll leave and never come back.

  Instead, he leans closer, touching his forehead to mine. “It’s okay, Soot, I’m here.”

  Why does he use that old nickname? Doesn’t he know we’re done? Is he trying to be funny? I try to turn my head away, but I can’t, it’s immobilized. I can’t do anything. I’m completely helpless. The tears pour stronger, and I gasp in soul pain, for the death of who I was, who we were, the life we led.

  It’s over. I close my eyes. Maybe I can die here. My wounds run deeper than those on my skin. I can’t even look at them since they’re still covered from the bandages. My body is encased in a cocoon.

  Torrent dries my tears with a Kleenex, staying close. I’m ashamed, embarrassed to have him here, to see me like this. But I can’t even turn away from him. When I open my eyes, I keep them on the ceiling like my life depends on it.

  He stays, rarely leaving the hospital chair that’s pushed against my bed. I don’t think he’s been lying beside me. I tell him to go away and not come back. Sometimes he leaves for food or coffee or a few hours of sleep. But he returns.

  “I have no one but you, Ash. You and I get each other. I love you.”

  My tears come again at his words.

  And I love him.

  Yeah, until they find the other two. It’s over, idiot. I can’t help my thoughts. The darkness of the tomb overtakes me, filling me with all the fear, the panic, the death of the trap. All those demons flood me and fill me until my body shakes in my wrappings. I can’t stop the fucking flood coming from my eyes.

  The fucking flood … My grief turns to rage, to heat, as it takes over my pulse and shoots out of my mouth in a blood-defying scream. Tor jumps, a look of shock and fear on his face. Ripping sounds and the wraps tear and burn, falling from my new, pink skin.

  Bells ding and nurses and doctors and aides rush in. The heat is my power and my lifeblood. I sit up, bending my knees, moving my hand over my smooth head. Some stare at me, at my skin, already healing and new. The pain is gone.

  The others buzz around me like a swarm of bees. They cover my body with a thin, white blanket and check my vitals, my temperature, my heart rate, my pulse. I’m fine.

  Better than fine – I feel great. Dr. Mara arrives.

  “I’m good, we can stop now.” I swing my legs over the bed. “I’d like to get dressed.” It didn’t even dawn on me that Tor saw me fully naked twice. We’ve never gone all the way with having sex. Not that he’ll want to now, with me looking the way I do.

  Dr. Mara speaks to the others, reassuring; she’s seen how fast I heal. I’m not sure what all she tells them. If she informs them of what Tor and I really are. I’m sure she tells them a plausible story. Or maybe nothing at all since we are the government’s top-secret project. It takes some arguing and the authority of Commander Riley, but they finally clear the room. Tor helps me dress—he’d brought a fresh uniform and underwear for me.

  Stop pushing him away, Ash.

  “Thank god, we thought we’d lost you, Ashley.” Dr. Mara grabs a tissue to dab her eyes, her military presence softening. She pushes the wheelchair and leads us out of the hospital. Tor holds my hand and refuses to leave. “No one could’ve survived being buried by lava. How did you do it?”

  I try to explain, to both of them, but I’m not completely sure how it happened. I can only say how I became the lava. It’s a version of fire and the fire is me. My gift protects me, layers over my body similar to how Tor can hold his breath for so long.

  Later, in my room, Tor and I sit on the floor together, my back nestled into his muscular torso as we lean against the cot. Strong arms wrap around me, holding me close. My arms are on his. I keep my soft army cap on, embarrassed at my bald head. Even my eyelashes and brows are gone.

  “They assumed you were dead, Ash. Anyone would—you just disappeared in the burning lava. They were leaving and calling me to come to the helicopter. But I ran over as soon as I saw what happened. I disobeyed their orders. I stood there, looking, trying to see if you were in there, still alive somehow. Trying to figure out what to do. I couldn’t dig you out. Couldn’t touch you. Couldn’t get to you.” Tor’s shoulders slump behind me. His voice drops to a whisper. “I couldn’t do anything to help. I failed. There was nothing I could do …”

  I turn and kiss him, putting my arms around his neck. His lips are soft, and he lingers only a moment.

  “You did save me, Tor. I managed to get out, but I would have died there on the rocks. You have no idea how much it hurt—it was ….” I can’t talk about it, and I can’t go there again.

  “Whenever you’re ready to tell me, Ashley. I’ll listen.”

  I need him now. “Kiss me, Tor.”

  He doesn’t need to be told twice. With one hand on my back and the other caressing my face, he smashes my mouth with his.

  I need to feel.

  Even though I was just released from the hospital, I need this. To have his flesh against mine. Jerking his T-shirt up, he gets the idea. In one graceful move, he has his top off and lifting me on the cot.

  My insecurities are still there in the back of my mind. I can address them la
ter. But for now, I only want to be in the present. I know Tor loves me, as he’s said the words to me. Now he needs to know.

  I pull back, breaking the kiss. “Torrent.”

  “Ash, we don’t have to—”

  I shush him by pressing my finger to his lips. “I love you, Torrent. You need to know. It was you who I thought of when I was buried. Not Smoke. Not Tage. They flitted across my mind for a brief second. But it was you who took most of my thoughts. How I wanted to live so we could explore whatever this is.” I place my hand over his heart. “I want to figure out who I am and how you fit into my life. And yes, you will be part of my life. I need you, too.” I glance at the ceiling. “I just thought you’d want to know.”

  “Ashley.” Tor grips my chin and forces me to look into his stormy, blue eyes. “Thank you. For sharing that with me. You know I love you. Yesterday, I just felt so helpless.”

  “You help me more than you know. I heal faster with you near me. Your presence soothes me. I don’t know if it’s you physically touching me or if it’s proximity. But having you at my side does help me.”

  I’ve never told him that. I don’t think Dr. Mara knows. Maybe she’s speculated about how my heeling works, but we’ve never discussed it.

  We hold each other for the rest of the night.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The next morning after I woke late from my coma, we go back out at my insistence. The mountain is still burning, destroying everything in its path. Already four villages have been buried and over a hundred people have died.

  I was almost one hundred and one. My thoughts are grim.

  I’m grateful for my full protective gear, my hat and mask to hide my weird, bare head. I don’t want a new nickname from Tor.

  This time I don’t get too close. We stay a safe distance from the many flowing, glowing rivers, like veins of blood-fire crisscrossing the slope. Forest fires are springing up as the magma ignites everything in its path. Columns of black smoke rise into the clear, blue sky.

  Something changed inside me, from my ordeal. I’m no longer afraid of the heat, the fire, the burn. It’s like I’ve taken it into myself. The creative, destructive inferno of the mountain flows in me, too.

  I am Pele.

  I don’t know where that thought comes from. I dismiss it—time to focus. Time to work.

  ***

  I’m at my third attempt to control the lava. So far, my labors to slow it have failed. Torrent’s efforts to reduce it with water have also been fucking unsuccessful. The molten rock just sizzles the water to steam in an instant, even thick walls of ice, though the ice melts slower. His power isn’t strong enough to hardly slow it down.

  We are working together now. We won’t be separated.

  I feel the power, I control it better, and it has become me.

  What am I doing wrong? Why isn’t this enough?

  I push with all my might. We’re trying to bring all the rivers of burning yellow into one giant flow. Maybe we can minimize the damage to one area.

  I summon the power, the heat, and direct it at the smaller streams. Inch by inch, they turn and curve toward the main, orange river. But it’s getting so wide, strong, and fast, there’s a chance we’re making this worse.

  I try to direct the main stream down the steepest slope, away from villages, the part of the mountain that goes straight through jungle and into the ocean, far below.

  Trees crack, echo and burn as they topple. Flames leap from all the green underbrush. The fire isn’t as fast here, because everything is so wet and humid.

  Animals scurry, birds caw and flutter, wild pigs, snakes, and critters run over the leafy ground.

  It’s hard to see and move with all this heavy gear on. Sweat stings my eyes, but I can’t wipe it away.

  My hands are free as I use them to manipulate and direct the fire-flow.

  Torrent is just as busy. He’s bringing forth water from underground springs. He knows where they are, and sprays of water burst out of the ground here and there, skipping down the mountain, racing Pele’s blood. Directing these running rivers into the lava does nothing to slow it; however, it does redirect it along muddy canals and trenches.

  “Damn it,” he keeps cursing, louder each time.

  I move too many flows into the large one too soon. They push the ten-foot-wide path of glowing fire far to the right. Now it’s coming fast, in our direction, and if it keeps bending, it will hit the helicopter and more villages below.

  “Fuck!” I scream. The magma river is so wide, I don’t know if I can control it. Sweating like crazy, I direct my arms and hands to it, summoning the force of Pele through me.

  It begins to curve back to the left, the safe zone, but not fast enough.

  Tor is grabbing me, to get me to run to a safe place. “That’s enough, Ash, you don’t want to get caught again,” he shouts through his mask. “We can try again from farther away.”

  “No, I almost have it.” I keep my focus, keep my hands out, shifting the fire, inch by inch.

  “Ashley, Torrent, back here now, Privates!” Dr. Mara orders, though we barely hear her down below.

  No, I can do this … Tor knows better than to break my concentration and stops pulling at me. But he’s not able to help. He stands near, uncertain, and touching the small of my back.

  He won’t leave my side. If he gets caught, he’ll die in seconds.

  Chapter Thirty

  Then Tor does something unexpected.

  He puts both hands on my shoulders, standing right behind me. He lets me know he is there with me, lending me his strength. “I’m here for you,” he whispers. Leaning backwards into him … gods, I’ve missed him.

  Now is not the time. Focus, Ash.

  I’m not alone.

  Love, closeness, belonging, family—their power courses through my heat, adding its own flame. I shift the rolling lava farther to the left.

  It’s still not enough, and it’s coming too fast.

  One more second …

  It’s no use. The mountain, the goddess Pele, is giving birth to new land, new creation, and nothing will stand in her way. Not me, not Tor, not the villagers, no one.

  This new life must live. Realization hits me like an eruption as I connect with Pele and the fire in the earth. Something inside me snaps.

  Nature always finds the most efficient path—the path of least resistance. Dr. Mara’s words resonate.

  “Tor.” I twist my head so he can hear me. “Tor, is there a river here somewhere? A path down the mountain where the water goes?”

  Torrent looks over the land, studying it, trying to understand my question. “No, it’s just jungle.”

  “Can you make a gouge of water? Can you make water that powerful, to form a path?”

  “I don’t know … I’ll try.” Torrent studies the left slope. He lowers his head and closes his eyes. I keep my hands up, moving the burning, molten rock, little by little. We shift out of the way, as it gets within ten feet of us, steadily pouring.

  Tor faces the left slope. He lifts his hands, his eyes closed. I stand behind him, so our backs are touching.

  Cracks sound as powerful spray shoots up above the trees, here, there, beyond. He pulls forth five springs, then combines them into one wave of destruction. He directs the water down, near the lava. Down it rushes—digging, rolling, tumbling black rock and mud and dirt, trees, plants, and roots—like a narrow, inland tsunami. The water is like an explosion, five feet in diameter, churning the earth and pulling trees into it as it forms a scratch along the mountainside. The water thunders and the trees pop and split.

  I hope it’s deep enough. I have no time for him to finish. I summon Pele within me, the life-force of the creative and destructive earth, and give a blast at the lava. The power whips my head back and shifts my body backwards a few inches, moving Tor. I scream with the fire flowing through me.

  The orange and black spew rolls and tumbles, turning over itself, veering toward the left. It finds the narr
ow ravine and drops into it, flowing faster and faster, steaming the water and taking over the lava river.

  Pele’s life-blood deepens the narrow gorge and rushes down. Some of the fire licks the forest debris, overflowing slightly, but the glowing rivulets make their way back into the line drawn straight down the mountain.

  Together Tor and I carve a path for the fire. It rushes through jungle and over rock. A large pillar of steam flows into the sky from the ocean far below, where the fire-flow is streaming into the sea.

  Our work is far from done. We jump into fire-fighter mode, dousing the trees and jungle, trying to create firebreaks wherever I can find an open space.

  A clashing thunder breaks and the mountain is washed in a great shower, putting out the remaining flares. Pele is helping us.

  Or maybe the deity of Tor’s power … I wonder.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  My powers are different, ever since Hawaii. I have a confidence I didn’t have before. I know how to hone the fire, how to direct it, how much or little force to use.

  Now I know how to call up the power of the earth’s core, of Pele the volcanic goddess, of the inner strength of Mother Earth’s beating heart.

  I am one with her.

  Torrent is growing in his abilities as well. He doesn’t yet have the confidence I have, but he discovered a lot on the Big Island. He is learning to feel and sense sources of water—lakes, rivers, underground streams, even the heaviness of laden clouds in the sky. He is practicing every day, trying to tap into these various forms of water.

  We are put onto a Special Emergency Task Force. Dr. Mara goes with us on our world-wide missions, but Commander Riley leads us. A small squad of highly trained soldiers accompanies us everywhere, too, for protection and help.

 

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