Firefrost: A Flameskin Chronicles Novel

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Firefrost: A Flameskin Chronicles Novel Page 26

by Camille Longley


  “Sol,” Kelan said, his voice a warning.

  She turned and caught sight of Marta, who had sparks dancing on her fingers. “Touch Silas again, and I’ll kill you,” she hissed. Her pyra deepened her voice.

  “Let it go,” Silas told her. “It’s not like they can do anything.”

  He was right. Sol shuffled in closer to Kelan and tried to keep the despair at bay.

  “So, you only allow children to live here?” Kelan asked.

  “There are adults, a handful of them, but they were living in the woods long before the Burning War began, and King Anton murdered his wife,” Silas said. “They all wear cuffs, like you.”

  “And what happened to your parents?” Sol asked. “Did they leave you when they went off to fight the war?”

  “I don’t know anything about my parents. We’re all foundlings. Left at the edge of the forest to be raised by the wraiths of Hivid Wood. Or eaten by them. The stories vary.”

  “Are there wraiths?” she asked, searching the dirty faces that peered down at her.

  Silas grinned. “We’re the wraiths of Hivid Wood. Isn’t it brilliant? That’s why the haven hasn’t been found yet.”

  “And that’s why we have to kill intruders,” Marta said, scowling at Sol.

  “How many people live here?” Kelan asked.

  “There’s a dozen of the old-timers, and more than one hundred foundlings at last count,” Silas said.

  “So many?” Sol asked, incredulous. How could people have abandoned their children to the woods? It was unthinkable.

  “We’re the lucky ones,” Silas said. “A pyra doesn’t start to manifest itself until you’re three or four years old. We’re the ones whose parents didn’t immediately turn us over to soldiers or strangle us. They brought us to the Hivid Wood in the hope that the stories were true.”

  They had arrived at a large dwelling built around the trunk of another redwood tree. Its windows had curtains of dry grasses, and its walls were made of uneven planks. Mist curled over the mossy roof. Silas opened the door to reveal a dim interior. Sol and Kelan and Azalea were pushed by many small hands through the doorway.

  An older, heavy-set man sat on the ground inside. White and gray laced his black hair and overgrown beard. He wasn’t dressed like a wraith, and his skin was free of dirt and grime, but he didn’t look pleased to see them. There was a metal band with a shard of emberstone strapped around his upper arm, and the emberstone glowed like a hot coal on his skin.

  Rask scowled at Sol and Kelan. “What have you brought me this time, Silas?”

  Sol edged closer to Kelan so they were standing side by side, and Azalea clung to Sol’s shirt again. There were a dozen wraith adolescents packed into the small room around them, and they watched them with bright, curious eyes.

  Silas bowed low with an elegant flourish of his hand. “I brought you two responsible adults. Probably responsible. I’m not sure how responsible it is to wander into Hivid Wood.”

  “I told you no more,” Rask growled.

  “I know, but look!” Silas said, pointing at Kelan’s face.

  Why was he obsessed with Kelan’s eyes? Sol wished she had her hands free so she could slap that boy’s finger away.

  “It doesn’t matter what color his eyes are. You have a responsibility to protect our camp and you’ve violated it,” Rask said.

  “But I blindfolded them!” Silas insisted. “They don’t know where we are.”

  Sol smiled to herself. They didn’t know who they were dealing with.

  “Get rid of them,” Rask growled.

  “I claim the girl’s boots!” Marta said.

  Another girl shoved her. “They’re mine. I saw her first.”

  Sol pressed up against Kelan as her heartrate accelerated. She searched wildly through the room for something she could use as a weapon.

  A woman, the first Sol had seen, pushed her way into the room. “What’s going on here?” Her dress was made of silk scraps, and she wore an elegant braid crown around her head.

  “Silas brought us tasty morsels to eat!” one of the boys cried, and laughter crackled through their ranks.

  Silas shoved his way through the crowd of youths and dragged the woman to the front of the room. “Ingrid! I found your brother!”

  The woman peered up into Kelan’s face at his eyes, then stepped back to take in his full form. She wore an emberstone set into a ring on her pinky.

  “We came here seeking asylum with the Flameskin haven,” Kelan said.

  “We take only children. You can leave your daughter with us, and we’ll take care of her. And this boy’s not my brother.” This last sentence she directed at Silas.

  “But he has the eyes,” Silas insisted

  Ingrid, Sol now noticed, had Kelan’s same turquoise eyes.

  “She’s not our daughter and we can’t just leave her with you,” Sol said. “We stay together.”

  Ingrid ignored Sol as she stared at Kelan’s face. “But the shape of his face is all wrong. He doesn’t look a thing like King Anton.”

  King Anton Bruun? The king who had murdered his Flameskin wife and started the Burning War? Sol gaped at Ingrid.

  “You’re the princess. The Flameskin princess,” Sol said.

  Ingrid frowned at her.

  “But they said she was killed,” Kelan said, his eyes going wide.

  “Obviously I’m not dead,” Ingrid said and scowled. “I escaped.”

  Sol struggled to wrap her mind around it. She had grown up hearing the story about the Flameskin queen with the burning heart, and here was her daughter. It was like something out of a fairytale.

  Ingrid was still studying Kelan’s face “I’m thinking you must be a cousin. Maybe Nikel’s son? Who are your parents?”

  “My mother was named Marina. She’d dead now. I never knew my father.”

  “But you must have some idea who he might be.”

  “I know my mother worked as a scullery maid in a manor near Duhavn before I was born. I assume she met my father there.”

  “Duhavn. Must be a Bruun then. Your mother was a Flameskin?”

  Sol stared at Kelan. He was truly related to the royal family? He was related to this banished princess?

  “She kept it secret for a while, but it possessed her when she was twenty-eight.”

  Silas whistled. “She must’ve never used a spark in her life to have lasted that long.”

  “I never saw her use her pyra before she was possessed.” Kelan’s eyes were pained, and it hurt Sol’s heart to see it. This was the most he had ever spoken about his mother.

  Ingrid turned to Rask, who sat hunched on the floor with his chin in his hand. “Rask? What do you think?”

  He waved a hand at her. “It doesn’t matter what I say. You always end up doing whatever you want. But let it be known I don’t condone this, especially not when we’re so close to freedom. And besides, it’s two more mouths to feed.”

  Marta shoved Silas. “You shouldn’t have brought them. They’re too dangerous. If they tattle on us to the Flameskin Army, it’s over.”

  “Back off, Marta,” he said and shoved her in return.

  Marta growled, and her fingers sparked.

  “Marta!” Ingrid barked. The girl winced, and her face contorted the same way Kelan’s did when he fought his pyra. “Get hold of yourself or we’ll have to put you in containment.”

  One of the other wraiths slapped Sol’s pebble emberstone against Marta’s skin, and her face relaxed.

  “An emberstone?” Ingrid asked.

  “It’s hers,” the wraith said, pointing at Sol. “She’s a mage.”

  “A mage,” Ingrid muttered. She drummed her fingers on a branch that poked through one of the hut’s walls.

  “And the prince has a full emberstone. I told you this was a good find,” Silas said.

  Sol stared at Kelan. The prince?

  “And this!” one of the little girls said, holding up Sol’s acorn.

  “That’s
mine!” Sol snapped. She was filled with a sudden, vicious urge to protect Ulve’s seed. She had to keep it safe. She hadn’t known it had been taken from her pocket.

  Ingrid picked up the glowing acorn and turned it over in her palms. “It feels so alive. What is this?”

  “The Ulves gave it to me when I left. I don’t know what it is.”

  Ingrid’s eyebrows rose. “And why is a mage from the Ulves here in Hivid?”

  Sol brushed her bound hands against Kelan’s. The ropes bit into her skin and Kelan wrists were red. “We’ve been running since we met, and since we were married. There was nowhere else we could go where we could be safe.”

  Silas grinned and leaned in. “Milk it. Ingrid is a hopeless romantic.”

  Sol blushed. She had thought she was past blushing over Kelan, but it turned out she just hadn’t had enough opportunities to talk about him around other people.

  Ingrid lifted Sol’s hands and studied the silver ring on her finger.

  “The only thing we want is to be together,” Kelan said.

  Ingrid sighed and dropped Sol’s hand. “Are either of you aligned with those who could harm us? Tokken or Flameskin soldiers?”

  “I was a soldier, but I left the army after I met Sol. I have no desire to return.”

  “They hunt deserters. Are they looking for you?” Rask asked.

  “No,” Sol said quickly. “They lost us in the mountains long ago.”

  Ingrid nodded. “Untie them. They’ll stay here until Vara can meet them, at least.”

  Silas grinned triumphantly, and Rask let out a string of curses under his breath.

  “Rask,” Ingrid hissed. “There are children in this room.”

  “You should hear him when you’re not around,” one of the boys said and sniggered. Rask cuffed his ear.

  “We are guardians of the last haven for Flameskins on this continent,” Ingrid said as Silas untied them. “If you try to leave, you’ll be killed on sight.”

  Chapter 49

  Kelan

  Sunlight poured in through the hole in the roof and woke Kelan. He groaned and yanked the threadbare blanket over his head. He really needed to finish fixing that roof.

  He rolled over and wrapped an arm around Sol beside him.

  She smiled sleepily and kissed the tip of his nose. “Morning, love.”

  His heart bloomed hot in his chest as he kissed her. Sol. He had thought waking up beside her every morning was the best that life could give him, but waking up beside her in a bed, albeit a lumpy one, was heaven.

  They had spent a few blissful weeks together in the Flameskin haven. Weeks of waking up warm beside her and basking in happiness. The long journey was over. They had finally found a home.

  He drew her closer and trailed kisses along her neck and shoulder.

  “I don’t think we’re alone,” she whispered as he slid his fingers beneath her shirt.

  He sighed into her hair. “Are we ever?”

  She gave a miserable laugh.

  “Well then, any creature in this bed who isn’t Sol will surely suffer a horrible fate.” There was a laugh somewhere nearby, smothered by the blanket.

  Sol gasped. “I think there are wraiths in our bed.” More spatters of muffled laughter from beneath the blankets.

  Kelan sat up and pulled Sol in next to him. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

  He grabbed the blanket and yanked. The three lumpy forms at the foot of their bed were revealed to be three very dirty and very naughty children: Dotti, Lotti, and Silas II, a foundling discovered and named by the original Silas.

  They pounced on Kelan and Sol laughed as he wrestled them out of the bed. “I told you not to come in our bed anymore!” he cried.

  But they were all laughing now as the children wiggled out of his grasp. Kelan grabbed Silas II and threw him over his shoulder. Azalea hung back shyly, half-hidden by the darkness, and Kelan beckoned to her. She grinned as she jumped onto the bed and threw her arms around Sol.

  Sol’s eyes glowed with delight, and it filled Kelan with warmth to see her so happy. Was this what it was like to have a family? Was this what it was like to have a home, where laughter and smiles and love were served in buckets instead of teaspoons?

  “They’re going to keep coming back if you keep playing with them every morning,” Sol said. She wasn’t really scolding.

  He tackled Sol, and she laughed as they tangled themselves in the blankets and the children jumped on top.

  Kelan would never turn the children away, even if it meant giving up time with Sol. He knew what it was like to grow up without parents, and if these girls wanted Sol to mother them, he’d never force them out.

  He kissed Sol’s cheek. “I’m glad they come, but it would be nice if we could have some time to ourselves.”

  She put her arms around Lotti and Dotti and Azalea and Silas II. “Maybe we’ll just adopt them.”

  “Well, one or two children is fine, but four all at once? Isn’t that a bit much?”

  She blushed and something in his heart overflowed at the sight of it. “You want children, Kelan?”

  His mouth went dry, and his mind emptied of all its contents.

  They hadn’t talked about this yet.

  Someone scurried across the rooftop, and Marta’s face appeared above them through the hole. “You two awake yet?”

  This definitely wasn’t the time to start talking about it.

  The cascading curtain of leaves that made their door parted, and Silas the First stepped inside. Kelan sighed. He was going to fix the roof and make a door. Today.

  “Knock first,” Sol said, scowling at Silas.

  “It sounded like you two were decent in here.” Silas’ eyes roved the wreckage of their room, the makeshift bed of moss and blankets, their weapons leaning against the side of one wall, and the branches overhead that made it impossible to walk across the room without stooping multiple times.

  Silas’ eyes landed on Lotti and Dotti lying in Sol’s lap. “If the others find out that you’re letting the twins sleep in your bed, you’re going to wake up with half the camp in your room.”

  “They’re not allowed. They don’t sleep here. Right?” Kelan said, giving Dotti a look. She pouted.

  Sol combed her fingers through Azalea’s hair to braid it. “Does Ingrid still want to go out this morning?”

  “Yes. She’s waiting for you,” Silas said. He knelt down in front of Silas II. Though Silas II was only four, he had already mastered Silas the First’s complicated handshake, and they performed it now at the foot of the bed.

  An emberstone flashed on Silas’ wrist as his hand moved through the air. Kelan’s emberstone had been cut into fourths and divided among the Flameskins that needed it most, and Kelan had been left with only a small shard. He really only needed a speck of emberstone to extinguish his emberstone, but a piece any smaller wouldn’t fit in his manacle. And he didn’t want to risk losing control.

  “I’ll have to check my traps before we go,” Sol said.

  “Already checked them,” Marta said. “And look!” She dangled a very dead rabbit through the hole in their roof.

  Kelan and Sol both made a face. “That belongs in the kitchen,” Sol said.

  Marta laughed maniacally and slid off the roof.

  Sol tugged on Azalea’s braid and stood up. “Let’s go.”

  Kelan stepped out of their low hut onto a platform built out over several tree branches. Children scampered across the rope bridges and climbed off the top of their house as they emerged.

  It was a rare, bright morning in the Wood. The sun had burned off the fog. The redwoods creaked in the wind, and the air smelled of pine sap and sawdust.

  He and Sol had only been living in the Flameskin camp for a few weeks, but it already felt like home. With Sol beside him, he had everything he needed. And his heart had swelled unexpectedly to include this new family as well, made of wild, untamed foundlings that danced through the trees.

  He laced hi
s fingers through Sol’s. Could this be her home, too, or was she still yearning for her mountains?

  “Are you coming with us to forage?” she asked.

  “Yes. But I can’t stay out too late. I need to finish fixing the roof.”

  “And build us a door, I hope?”

  He nodded, and she grinned. Then at least they’d be able to shut the wraiths out for a few moments.

  They climbed down the rope ladder to the forest floor and found Ingrid waiting for them at the foot of their tree. Sol had been a queen in the Ulves, and it was no different here in the Hivid Wood. She had quickly made herself indispensable to the Flameskin community, teaching them how to make animal traps and build better arrows.

  Sol took an ambling path through the forest followed by her motley crew: Ingrid in her tattered dress, Marta with her bow and her watchful eyes and that horrible dead rabbit hanging over her shoulder like a prize, swaggering Silas the First, and Kelan with Azalea on his shoulders. Sol bent down at intervals to dig up plants and show them to Ingrid and Silas. Then she would hand them to Azalea, who dropped them in the pack on Kelan’s back.

  Traffic through the Hivid Wood had dried up, along with the Flameskin’s main source of food. Without merchants and traders to steal goods from, and without the freedom to farm, they had no way to feed themselves. With each passing day, they relied more heavily on Sol and her expertise.

  Sol took Kelan by the arm and pulled him ahead of the group as Silas and Marta squabbled. Sol glanced up at Kelan with those green eyes of hers. Her voice was hesitant. “About what you were saying earlier. . . .”

  Kelan’s heart raced in his chest. “I didn’t say anything earlier.” He shifted Azalea, who was getting heavy on his shoulders.

  Sol chewed on her lip.

  What did she want him to say? There were more than one hundred children living in the haven and they already struggled to feed and care for them. But he should’ve known Sol would want a family of her own. He had promised her she could have the life she wanted, but this wasn’t the time. There would probably never be a right time. The panic inside him felt like a small, vicious animal tearing out his insides.

 

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