Firefrost: A Flameskin Chronicles Novel

by Camille Longley

  She hissed at him and spat curses, and Kelan smiled.

  This is what we were always meant to be.

  Nilsa tried to beat him back with flames, but Kelan was no longer human, and no longer limited by his frail mortal frame. Fire burned through every muscle and tendon in his body. He darted toward Nilsa, closing the distance between them, and the panic in her eyes filled him with intoxicating joy.

  She will burn.

  He gloried in the prospect of it. For every blast Nilsa sent his way, Kelan met it with an explosion of his own. She didn’t have the control and the dexterity he did.

  “Kelan!” Nilsa screamed. Her human voice had broken through her pyra’s control. She had given herself over to her fear and it had extinguished her pyra.

  Kelan grabbed the knife from his belt and advanced, fire still swirling over his hands.

  Spill her blood upon the snow! his pyra hissed.

  Kelan’s heart thumped wildly, and his pyra buzzed inside him.

  This had always been his true purpose: to burn and destroy and kill.

  He was a demon, and he had born to burn.

  “Kelan, please,” Nilsa whimpered.

  He smiled as he bent down and slashed her open.

  Chapter 35

  Sol

  Sol watched, horrified, as Lieutenant Ager dropped onto the snow. Dead. Her blood ran over the white snow and froze in rivulets of red.

  This was what Sol had wanted, wasn’t it? This was why she had released his pyra, so it could save them from the soldiers.

  But letting Kelan turn into this monstrous creature had been a mistake.

  Kelan laughed as he stood over Nilsa, and he released a burst of fire at her face. It consumed her, and sticky, foul smoke filled the air. Sol covered her mouth with her sleeve and gagged on the smell. This had gone on long enough.

  Osten had run off down the hill before Sol could get to him, and he’d return with reinforcements. She and Kelan needed to keep moving or Flameskin soldiers would find them.

  Sol slid her boot back on and pulled the manacle and her pa’s emberstone from her pocket. If she could get either of those to touch Kelan, the demon would be gone. She just needed to get close enough to him to do it.

  Kelan stood near the edge of the cliff, and if she launched herself at him, they’d both go over the edge. She crept carefully around the clearing to get behind him. Then she took a breath and leapt toward him, extending both emberstones at him.

  He looked up just as she jumped and hissed at her as he leapt away. She hit the snow hard, and narrowly missed landing on Lieutenant Ager’s mutilated body. She swallowed bile as she scrambled away from the body and crouched in the snow, searching for Kelan.

  He stood at the edge of the tree line, that horrible smile marring his face.

  This creature wasn’t Kelan. Kelan was gentle and kind. This thing was cruel, and it took pleasure in pain and suffering. Maybe it looked like Kelan, but its eyes were different, hard where Kelan’s were soft. Its mouth was sharp where Kelan’s was inviting. Fire still glimmered on its hands, and nipped at the edges of his sleeves.

  This was the monster her pa had always warned her about, the one with fire beneath its skin and a voice inside it that whispered death.

  The demon circled slowly. Sol was trapped at the edge of the cliff next to Nilsa’s body.

  “Sol,” it hissed, as if testing the name in its mouth. She shuddered at the sound of its voice, a crackling roar of flames inside Kelan’s throat.

  “Please, Kelan, you need to put the emberstone back on.”

  It laughed. “Your Kelan is gone. There is only fire left.”

  It advanced, and she took a wary step backward. Her hands were shaking now, and she closed them over the emberstones. Breathe. She had to breathe and remain in control.

  But her heart wouldn’t listen. It galloped and pounded madly in her chest as she held the demon’s gaze.

  Fire swirled around the demon’s hand. “How do you want us to kill you, Sol?” It said her name like a curse.

  “Fight this, Kelan! It isn’t you!”

  It laughed again and two blasts of flame flew out of the demon’s hands. Sol screamed and jumped. She tumbled into the snow to dodge them and picked herself up again, breathing hard.

  “We’re going to destroy you, Sol,” it purred. “We will drink your blood and eat your ash.”

  She swallowed hard and clipped the manacle onto her own wrist, then pulled the jeweled letter opener out of her belt. “I don’t want to hurt you, Kelan.”

  Something flickered in its face and it moved farther back, out of range of her knife. She wished it were a real knife. She wouldn’t kill Kelan, of course, but if she could get him down long enough to get an emberstone on him . . . .

  The demon growled and fire swirled in its hands again, just long enough to warn her what was coming. Orbs of fire flew toward her, and she threw herself to the side, but he was too fast, and it was too hard to maneuver through the snow. One of them hit her head, and it felt like he had taken a club to the side of her face. The blast knocked something loose inside her. She fell back into the snow groaning, and her vision swam.

  “Get up,” the demon hissed. “Get up and fight us.”

  She rose unsteadily to her feet.

  “You tried to prevent us from becoming what we were meant to be,” he said, gesturing to his body with his burning hands.

  “Don’t listen to it, Kelan.”

  “You’re a murderess,” it hissed. “For our trust you gave only lies and blind hate. For our love you gave only pain.”

  Love.

  She stared at the monster occupying Kelan’s body. Wasn’t love supposed to be the answer? In the old legends about the Ulves, wasn’t it love that turned dragons’ hearts to gold, and melted the frost wolves, and forced the dryads to return their stolen hearts? Love was supposed to be stronger than any curse.

  She searched the demon’s face for anything of her Kelan, the Kelan she had kissed, the one she used to curl up against to stay warm, the one who liked to tease her, and who smiled at her when he thought she was wasn’t looking.

  That was the Kelan she loved, the one she wanted back.

  “Kelan, I love you.”

  His hands fell to his side and the grin on his face faltered.

  Sol took a hesitant step forward. “I know you’re still in there. You can fight this. I’ll help you.”

  But then he smiled, a cruel, twisted, horrible smile, and the flames on his arms and hands spiked. “You think anything you say matters to us?”

  She yelped as he hurled more fire at her.

  Kelan was gone.

  She let out a sob as she stumbled through the snow. This wasn’t a fairytale. Love was conqueror of no one and nothing. He was going to kill her. He was going to watch her burn just like he’d said.

  She drew fire from the emberstone at her wrist and gathered flames in her hand the way he had taught her. Then she stood and faced him.

  “Go on,” it goaded, grinning, “just try to hurt us.”

  She coiled the fire, trying to control it, but it was as unsteady as her shaking hands and her frantic pulse.

  “Your death will be our greatest triumph,” the demon hissed. “Your ashes will taste like victory.”

  She stared hard at the demon, and the snowy cliff and the pale dawn sky behind it. The flames on its arms lit the snow and his face with orange light. The air tasted of burning hair and oily smoke.

  She hurled the flames at him. The orb wavered in the air, half-formed and unsteady, and sunk with a hiss into the snow at the demon’s feet.

  It laughed, but then the snow shifted. The demon’s feet slipped backward. He threw out his arms as he lost his balance and he fell forward, sliding over the ice at his feet toward the edge of the cliff.

  Sol ran through the snow and launched herself at him. She grasped his arms, pressing the emberstone around her wrist to his skin as she did so. The fire on his body evaporated and Kelan
shouted as his feet slid off the edge.

  They both screamed as Kelan’s body dropped. His chest hit the cliff face and his legs dangled in open air.

  They clutched each other’s forearms desperately. Sol tried to wedge her feet into something so they’d stop sliding, but the ice was slick from Kelan’s flames. She grunted and sobbed as she pulled on him, but he kept slipping farther. Each moment brought her closer to the edge. He was going to pull both of them over the cliff.

  “Let go!” Kelan shouted.

  “No!”

  She looked into his face, into turquoise eyes now full of terror. She wedged the toe of one boot into a crag of ice and they finally stopped slipping.

  “Climb up!”

  He tried to twist and bring his legs up to reach the ledge, but the movement dislodged her hold and yanked her closer to the edge. She cried out, and his arms slid between her grasp.

  She sobbed as she met his eyes.

  “I love you, Sol,” he whispered.

  She shook her head, fighting back tears and tugging on his arms.

  He loosened his hold on her forearms and hung limp, his arms sliding between her sweat-slick hands.

  “Kelan!”

  “It’s time to let go, love.”

  “No! Stop!”

  She couldn’t lose him. Not now. She wouldn’t.

  She pulled on the fire in her emberstone, letting it rush into her and through her arms. He winced as her skin warmed, and heat came off her in blistering waves, but she could feel the flames pooling in her arms, her shoulders, her back. She tightened her grip with her flame-strengthened hands and pulled, trying to slither backward. She grunted as she yanked on him, and used her knees to slide them backward, pulling him upward first one inch, then two.

  She would not give up. She would not let him go.

  He gripped her forearms tight, despite the burning of her skin, and once he was high enough, his feet found purchase on the frozen cliff face and he propelled himself upward.

  She hauled him over the top and into her arms where they lay panting, their limbs intertwined. She quickly unlocked the manacle on her wrist and clipped it onto his.

  That was never coming off again.

  He wrapped his arms around her as he pressed his cheek to hers.

  She shuddered in his arms.

  This was Kelan.

  Kelan.

  Not the demon.

  But it was hard to look into his face and forget that a moment ago he had been trying to kill her. The terror of this endless night had left her raw. Her head still ached from his blow and her thoughts were tangled and sharp-edged.

  She wedged her hands beneath his chest and shoved him so hard he tumbled backward. She pushed herself to her feet and scowled down at him. “Don’t you ever do that again.”

  He stood and faced her. “I never wanted that. You were the one who unlocked it.”

  She shoved him again, and her voice broke as she shouted. “Don’t you ever give up on yourself like that! Don’t you ever let go. Don’t ever leave me.”

  He caught her wrists and held them tight. “You were the one who left me.”

  She swallowed a sob. “I know.”

  How could she have done that? How could she ever have imagined herself as the wife of Turullius?

  She needed Kelan, like the way she needed the mountains and the trees and a bow in her hands. He was as much a part of her life now as the mountains were. Why had it taken so long to realize that? Why had it taken almost losing him to see what he meant to her?

  She just wanted things to back to the way they were, before they came to Cassia.

  He picked up the lost letter opener from the snow and she stuffed it into her belt. He crossed his arms over his chest. The emberstone glowed on his wrist, turning his pale skin red as he shivered. His sleeves were burned to the elbow and offered no protection from the cold.

  “What do we do now?” he asked. “The Tokken and Flameskin armies will be hunting us.”

  “And Turullius’ army, too. He said he wanted the Flameskins hung on his wedding day.”

  Kelan’s eyebrows rose and he gave a strangled laugh. “You’re going back for the wedding?”

  She scowled at him. “Don’t. I’m going back to the mountains.”

  She was already considering which trail they could take that would best hide their tracks and what terrain would give them the best cover. But her stomach clenched at the thought of the hunger and the cold and the depravity that awaited them.

  Kelan shifted. “Are you going alone, or . . . ?”

  She shoved him again. “No, you idiot. We’re going together.”

  He scowled and rubbed his shoulder. “A few days ago that wasn’t the case.”

  “Well it is now.”

  “Sol, what you said before. I need to know what—”

  “We’re not having this discussion now. We need to move.”

  “Wait.” He reached out to touch her and she instinctively stepped away. Her heart went into a wild panic. His eyes darkened with hurt, and he pulled his hand back.

  “You shouldn’t have unlocked it,” he said. “I never wanted you to be afraid of me.”

  “I’m not.” She tried to reach out and grab his hand, but she was shaking too badly. She wanted all of this to be over. She wanted to make a fire and curl up next to Kelan and sleep.

  There was noise below the cliff that startled both of them.

  Shouting, and the crunch, crunch of soldiers marching through icy snow.

  She steeled herself and grabbed his hand, then pulled him into the woods beside her.

  Chapter 36

  Kelan

  Kelan trudged through the snow. He was past shivering. The cold locked up his limbs and made his movements stiff and slow. Sol had switched coats with him, but even her pa’s fur coat wasn’t enough to stave off the winter.

  They had been following the main road through the pass that had already been tramped down by other feet, making the going a bit easier. Sol seemed confident that the trail hadn’t been paved by any of their enemies, though Kelan didn’t know how that could be possible. There wasn’t a single person in the world who didn’t want Kelan dead, except Sol.

  And even that felt still up in the air.

  Sol had stopped on the trail above him and waited for him to catch up. Dawn had broken hours ago, and the broad, generous morning sun lit the snow in a glittering carpet of crystal.

  When he reached her, she pointed to a mound of sparkling snow. “That’s where the bandits are.”

  Kelan looked around. This was the clearing where they had been attacked? Everywhere in these mountains looked the same to him. Just trees and snow and boulders. How did Sol always know where she was?

  “Can you melt it?” he asked. “If I can’t fight with my pyra, I’ll need a sword.”

  Her face was blank. She looked tired, worn around the edges. “You think we’ll have to fight?”

  “I’d rather be prepared than not.”

  He instructed her on how to melt the snow, and she used her emberstone to push heat out of her body, melting a large swath of the snowdrift and sending a river of water rushing down the hillside. The bandits lay in a neat pile, though their scorched faces and chests and clothes were not as tidy. They had been perfectly preserved by the ice, frozen in the same horrible positions they had died in.

  Kelan grimaced. His pyra had done that. His pyra had killed Nilsa and it would’ve killed Sol, too. He regretted Nilsa’s death. They had once been friends; she hadn’t deserved to die like that.

  He sent up a prayer for her soul as he loosened a bandit’s scabbard with his numb fingers. Sol kept a silent watch beside him, her eyes fixed on the trail.

  She had been silent on their walk, but it was a loud kind of silence, the kind that felt like one long continuous scream.

  She was silent because she was afraid. Because she had seen his pyra and spoken with it. Because it had hurt her.

  He was horrified at wha
t he had done, but in equal measure he was angry. Angry at the Flameskin Army for turning him into this beast, angry at the world for denying him peace, and angry at Sol for releasing his pyra.

  Why had she taken off his emberstone? Hadn’t she just seen what he would become? Why would she make him into that monster?

  The questions pulsed with anger that was hot and fresh. All those shards of his broken heart still cut him up inside, and it was worse when she looked at him with those wide, frightened eyes.

  She said she loved him, but how could she when she was afraid of him?

  He pulled two hats off the bodies and two pairs of gloves, and a scabbard and sword. He tried not to look at or think about what he was touching as he worked. The men had been ruthless bandits, intent on hurting and killing them. They probably would’ve tried to sell Sol into slavery if he hadn’t ended them. He wasn’t sorry for what he had done.

  Some people deserved to die by fire.

  When he shoved one of the frozen bodies to unravel a scarf beneath it, he found a knife lying in the melting snow. The curling oak etched onto the blade and the dark handle were familiar.

  “Sol.”

  She looked up and he tossed the dagger to her. “This yours?”

  “Where did you find it?”

  He gestured to the bodies and she grimaced. “Keep it on you. You might need it if I ever lose my emberstone.” The words came out more bitterly sarcastic than he had intended. She turned away from him.

  Kelan gathered up the hats and gloves he had found and kicked snow over the bodies so he wouldn’t have to look at their faces, frozen in the agony of death.

  Sol had already sheathed her knife and had that jeweled dagger in her hand, poised to throw into the woods.

  He grabbed her arm. “Wait!”

  She gave a strangled cry and stumbled away from him in the slush. Her eyes were dark with terror. Kelan let go of her hand, and she took another step back.

  “I’m not going to hurt you.” Her fear cut like a dagger. “That wasn’t me. You know that, don’t you?”