Firefrost: A Flameskin Chronicles Novel

by Camille Longley

  Kelan tugged on his sleeve again.

  “It would be nice to rest for a little bit, and get supplies,” she said, her eyes fixed on the inn’s welcoming windows, the warm light of a fire lighting the inn within.

  He let out a long sigh. Rest. A bed. Food. There had been only a couple nights of that in Olisipo before he and Sol had tramped off into the wilderness once more. The four hares Sol had trapped at their campsite near Olisipo were long gone, and the only thing they’d eaten since then were a few potatoes they had dug out of the garden of an abandoned farm.

  Sol pulled her hat down over her eyebrows and pulled up the collar of her coat. “Try not to be to memorable. And don’t look up too much. Your eyes are too foreign. And don’t mention Hillerod or say my name. If people find out who I am, word could get back to Commander Jahr.”

  “What am I supposed to call you?”

  She shrugged.

  “Isabella?”

  She scowled. “Anything but that.”

  She pulled the pack off her back and found the jeweled dagger at the bottom. “I suppose we’ll be pretty memorable with this.”

  “Do you think they’ll take it?”

  “I don’t know. I’d be leery of travelers with something that was obviously stolen.”

  He sighed as his wishes for warmth and food and a bed slowly faded. Those had been fragile, too.

  He and Sol were fugitives now. As much as she insisted that they’d find a place that was safe for him, he knew that was only a vain wish, too. Nowhere was safe for him anymore.

  Sol pulled open the door to the inn and they let themselves in. He shouldn’t have been surprised that there were only one or two other travelers inside, but it unnerved him all the same. There was no crowd for them to disappear into. They were supposed to be inconspicuous, but what was more conspicuous than a girl with burned sleeves and a stolen letter opener traveling the mountains in the dead of winter?

  He took her elbow. “Maybe we should leave.”

  Her shoulders deflated. “I’m just so tired, Kelan. I just want to sleep somewhere and eat something.” She leaned against him and he put an arm around her shoulder.

  A man bustled down the stairs. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Welcome, welcome.” He bowed to them and ushered them inside.

  He had an apron tied around his waist and was as warm and welcoming as his inn. He was a mountain Tokken like Sol, with brilliant green eyes and a prominent, straight nose.

  “Here, sit,” he said, leading them to one of the tables crammed into the narrow room.

  Kelan kept his head down like he had been ordered, and his mouth watered as he passed a table where a lone traveler was eating.

  Rice! What he wouldn’t give for a bowl of red beans and rice. He seated himself eagerly, but Sol was still standing, her body tense.

  “We’re looking for lodging for a couple nights and supplies for our journey,” she said.

  “You can get all that here.”

  “But we don’t have any money. We only have this.” She held up the jeweled dagger for the innkeeper to see.

  But the innkeeper wasn’t looking at the dagger, he was staring into her face. “Sol?” he asked. “Sol d’Hillerod?”

  Kelan swore under his breath, and Sol’s face went taut.

  “Is that really you?” the innkeeper asked. “You’ve grown so much! You’re a woman now! Anna! Look who’s come! It’s Sol d’Hillerod.”

  “No, please, I’d like to keep this quiet,” Sol said, but her voice was drowned out by the clatter of a woman coming down the stairs.

  Anna grabbed Sol in a hug. “Sol! It’s been years. How are your parents? And little Carol?”

  Kelan watched the exchange with a little bit of awe. There was no one he could think of who would greet him like this. These were her people. Kelan had never belonged anywhere like she belonged in the mountains.

  “My sisters are well,” Sol said quietly, “and my ma’s holding together, I think.”

  “We expected to see Elo this winter, and you with him, of course,” said the innkeeper.

  Sol stiffened. “He—He passed, last Solstice.”

  “Oh, Sol! But he was so young,” Anna said. “Did the plague reach Hillerod, as well, last winter?”

  “No, we were spared. It was a hunting accident.”

  Kelan straightened in his seat on the floor. Hunting accident? Was that why Sol was so haunted by her father’s death? Had she played some part in it?

  “I’m so sorry, dear. So sorry,” Anna said, patting Sol’s hand.

  “This is very hard news. Everyone will want to see you and offer their condolences. I’ll send for Marge and Agnes. They’ll want to send well wishes for your ma, I’m sure.”

  Kelan stood. “Please, we’d prefer no one knows we’re here.”

  The innkeeper and his wife looked up at him, as if realizing he was there for the first time.

  “Who’s this?” Anna demanded. Her voice sounded distrustful. “A city boy?”

  Kelan looked down, keeping his eyes lidded, but it was too late now. They’d seen he wasn’t one of them. But he had to convince them to keep this quiet, and so the obvious conclusion was—

  “I’m her husband,” he said and bowed, and prayed that Sol wouldn’t kill him for this later. “Kelan Burke. Very pleased to meet you.”

  When he came up out of his bow, the innkeeper looked at him with newfound respect, his wife looked disappointed, and Sol looked like she was going to murder him.

  Love always had casualties.

  It hurt that she was so angered by this. Obviously, Sol had never even imagined it. She wasn’t wishing like he was.

  But he turned from her to meet the innkeepers’ eyes, drawing himself up to his full height as they sized him up. He knew he was wanting. She was made of granite and winter, and he was made of nothing but fire and lies.

  But he could imagine, if only for one evening.

  “You from Skive?” Anna asked, her words simmering with disapproval.

  “Duhavn,” Kelan said. He stepped in closer to Sol. “We’re on our way to Duhavn now, actually. We’ve eloped.”

  “Eloped?” the innkeeper asked with a wide grin.

  “Does your ma know?” Anna asked Sol.

  Kelan put his arm around Sol and brushed his fingers through her hair like she really was his. “She knows, of course. Only, since Sol’s pa has been gone, the boys in Hillerod have been very protective of her. And since she had so many suitors, we decided it might be best to leave the mountains for a while. You know how these things are.”

  Sol was staring at her boots, blushing hard.

  “Well,” Anna said, her eyebrows rising. “Well, isn’t that something.”

  The innkeeper laughed and clapped his hand on Kelan’s back. “Ha! Love always blooms in the strangest of places.”

  Kelan looked at Sol’s face, and she glanced up at him, holding his gaze for a brief moment.

  “Yes, it does. Doesn’t it?” he whispered.

  Anna took Sol’s hand. “Does married life suit you, dear?”

  “It does.” Sol’s voice was quiet, but the mountains had never had to be loud to be heard. Her voice was sure, and her blush gone.

  The wishes were making Kelan see things that weren’t there.

  But her hand was warm and alive and his to hold. He ran his thumb over the back of her hand, and she squeezed his in return.

  “Sit!” the innkeeper ordered. “You’re tired and hungry! Anna will prepare a room for you, and I’ll get you some food.”

  Sol offered the letter opener to him, but he shook his head.

  “I’d never dream of taking anything from Elo’s daughter. He saved Oscar’s life, you know.”

  “I remember.”

  “Wedding gifts should be kept and treasured,” Anna said, gently pushing Sol’s hand away.

  Kelan snorted. That was a gift from the wrong husband, and from a wedding neither of them wanted to remember.

  Glorious fo
od arrived from the kitchen in steaming bowls. Kelan reached up to take his, and the emberstone on his wrist cast a faint red glow on his hand. He yanked at his sleeve and looked up at the innkeeper, but the innkeeper was already bustling back toward the kitchen. “Drinks for the newlyweds!”

  If he was ever going to live in Hillerod, he needed a better way to wear the emberstone. It would be a difficult secret to keep.

  Anna clattered down the stairs again. “Your room is ready. Oh, Sol, how long do I have to wait until I can tell everyone that you’re married? This is absolutely the worst thing I’ve ever been asked to do. Keep a secret like this!”

  Sol considered for a moment as the innkeeper pushed two large cups of ale toward them. “Wait until summer, please, Anna. Josef had it in his head that he was going to marry me, and you know what a good tracker he is. I’m don’t want Kelan to get hurt.”

  “The demon!” Anna cried, and Kelan choked on his drink. She leaned in. “I would take this secret to my grave if I had to.”

  It seemed unlikely she’d make it through the end of the week. This was probably the best piece of gossip this side of the mountains.

  But this food! He couldn’t remember food that tasted this good. He downed his ale in a few swallows, and the innkeeper arrived with a smile and another full cup.

  “Easy,” Sol whispered as he drained his second.

  “Who’s Josef?” he asked.

  She made a face.

  Interesting.

  “How long have you and Josef known each other?”

  She rolled her eyes at him as she picked up another dumpling.

  The second mug of ale was starting to affect him. Usually his pyra just burned the alcohol off. It was really hard to get drunk as a Flameskin, and he had never really known how potent alcohol could be. His mind fuzzed and sleep called to him. Maybe that was good, since Sol was going to carve into him tonight.

  It was worth it.

  He put a hand around her waist. She had taken off her burned coat and there was nothing but a thin wool tunic between his hand and her skin.

  These wishes were as intoxicating as the drinks.

  When they had finished the blessed meal, the innkeeper led them to their room. “If there’s anything you need, Sol, we’re just down the hall.”

  “Thanks for everything, Johan.” She closed the screen door behind him and locked it. Then she turned and faced Kelan.

  He leaned against the wall and blinked slowly a few times, waiting for her to start shouting. He was exhausted. He regretted immensely that third mug. His whole body was starting to feel blunt, like the letter opener. Not really useful for anything, but pretty.

  “Eloped,” was all she said. He couldn’t see the anger yet, but sometimes it simmered for a long time beneath the surface before she exploded.

  He grimaced. “It was the best I could come up with.”

  She looked different, standing there in front of the painted screen doorway. She didn’t look like she was made of the mountains. She looked like a girl again. The granite and the cliffs and the snow-covered peak were gone. Maybe it was just because she wasn’t wearing all her winter gear. It made her seem smaller. And showed off all her delightful curves.

  “Anna said she filled up the tub,” Sol said.

  The humid, bathtub air made him drowsy. “You’re not angry?”

  “At first, maybe, but then . . . .” She shrugged.

  Kelan swayed a little on his feet, then dragged a blanket from the bed to the ground. “I’m exhausted. I’m just going to bed down for the night.”

  “You can sleep in the bed with me. I’m used to it.”

  She had stepped closer and now took his hand. He wasn’t too blunt-edged to feel that, or to see the way she was looking at him. He reached up to brush her cheek and was pleasantly surprised that his hand responded, that it hadn’t had to blunder its way toward her. Ashes, this alcohol. It blurred the edges of everything.

  Was this real or just another wish?

  She wasn’t speaking. She pressed her hand to his chest. He wasn’t wearing his fur coat anymore, only his tunic. Where had the coat gone? Sol would kill him if he lost it.

  She looked up. Her cheeks were pink. It took her a moment to find her words. “You should bathe, and then we should get to sleep.”

  Right. He sighed again. He had almost wanted to sleep on the floor just because he was too exhausted to think of doing anything else. Ashes and cinders, he was so tired.

  Kelan found the bath behind the screen in the corner of the room and stripped down. The water was deliciously warm. It was a struggle to stay awake in there, and speed was his only ally. Anna, bless her, had left clean clothes for both of them to wear so theirs could be washed the next day, and when Kelan had finished, he sloughed off the water and pulled on a pair of clean, wool pants.

  He shook water from his curls as he emerged from behind the screen. Sol sat on the edge of the bed, her long hair loose down her back and over her shoulders, and she wasn’t wearing shoes. For Sol that was practically naked. He blinked at her a few times, his shirt still in his hand, enjoying the few inches of her bare ankles and the sight of her body without its multitude of furs and coats. He forced himself to focus on her eyes. Her eyes and her lips. Ashes, those lips.

  Then he tucked that wish back inside him and started to put his arms through his sleeves, but Sol crossed the room toward him and slowly pulled his shirt away and dropped it on the ground. She smiled at him, but it was a shy smile, an uncertain one. One he had never seen before.

  She put her hands on his chest. His heart came alive at her touch. The exhaustion retreated, if only for a few seconds.

  He looked at her face. His vision was too clouded to read her expression. What—?

  And then her lips were against his.

  This he understood.

  Ashes, why was he so exhausted? Why now? Why of all nights had he drunk so much?

  But his fingers fumbled their way to her waist and his lips worked well enough to do what they were supposed to—though they were a little numb.

  She broke away and looked up at him again, breathless. “I’m going to bathe. Wait for me?”

  He smiled and kissed her lips again. For a thousand years he would wait, if he had to.

  She squeezed his hand once before disappearing behind the screen.

  He flopped onto the bed. He didn’t know what would happen to them when they got to Hillerod, if there would be a way he could stay, but he wanted that more than anything.

  He smiled and hope sparked in his chest. Maybe he could be a part of her future. Then he rolled over and fell asleep.

  Chapter 39

  Sol

  Sol’s cheeks burned hotter than the water. She scrubbed soap through her hair and her face and all over her aching body. But she could feel nothing but the buzzing in her veins and the pounding of her heart.

  Love blooms in the most unusual places.

  He loved her. He had loved her for a long time, and she had loved him, too.

  Seeing him with Anna and Johan was like looking into a possible future. He had been his usual, enigmatic self, and no one had guessed what he was.

  They could do this. They could have a life together, and he’d live with a hidden emberstone on his arm.

  She wanted him to be something more than just a friend. She wanted him, and the promise of tomorrow. Too many times he had almost slipped through her fingers, but she wasn’t letting go now.

  These were her mountains, and she was master of them. She would find a place for them. They would return to Hillerod, and no one would know any different.

  They would find a way.

  Sol stepped out of the bath and wrung out her hair, then slipped on her clothes.

  When she peeked around the screen, Kelan was lying on the bed still without a shirt on. She tiptoed toward him. His eyes were closed.

  She laid a hand on his arm, then ran her fingers across his chest. “You can open your eyes. I’m decen
t.”

  But he didn’t open his eyes.

  She shook his arm. “Kelan?”

  Completely and utterly asleep.

  She sat on the bed next to him as the sparks in her blood fizzled and died.

  She scowled at him, trying and failing at not being frustrated. She had all these things she wanted to tell him, and he had fallen asleep when she finally felt brave enough to say them aloud.

  A knock at the screen door made her jump. She scrambled away from him and grumbled as she unlatched the screen. Didn’t they know not to bother weary, married travelers at night?

  She slid open the screen door and found Johan, who pushed into the room brandishing a knife. She stumbled back from him with a shout.

  Kelan didn’t stir on the bed.

  Johan gave Kelan a wary glance before sighing. “You’re safe now, Sol.”

  “Safe? Safe! What did you do to Kelan?” She shook Kelan’s arm, but he didn’t move.

  “Sleeping draft. He shouldn’t wake up for hours. Help me tie him up.” Johan unslung the rope from around his shoulder, and it landed on Kelan’s body with a thud.

  She thrust the rope back into Johan’s arms. “Don’t touch him.”

  Johan turned, his face pinched. “Do you know what he is?” He pointed to the manacle on Kelan’s wrist. It glowed red in the dim candlelight. “Do you know what this does?”

  “Of course, I do.” She stepped in front of Kelan’s body, shielding it with her own. If the village found out who he was they’d kill him, and he was helpless like this. “Who else knows?” she demanded. “Did you tell Anna?”

  He shook his head. “But if you know what he is, you know what must be done.”

  “Kelan isn’t like the others. He’s not a demon.”

  “There’s a reason he’s wearing that manacle.”

  “Yes! He put it on himself. He’s harmless like this.”

  “But his blood isn’t. Is he really your husband?”

  “No, but—”

  She stared down at Kelan, at his scarred body and his wet curls. She wished the bonds that held them together were stronger than the memories they shared. She wanted more. She wanted so much more.

  Johan must have seen the look in her face because he made a disgusted, strangled noise in his throat and stepped away from her. “How could the daughter of Elo love one of those?”