Firefrost: A Flameskin Chronicles Novel

by Camille Longley

  Kelan swallowed. “What I meant was—It’s just that—”

  She shook her head and blushed. “It’s fine. You’ve never really said anything about it, so I was just surprised is all.”

  Kelan let out a heavy breath. “Yeah. Me, too.” It took a long time for him to stop feeling like he was about to have a heart attack.

  She stopped them at a bush with small white flowers and waved Ingrid forward. “These flowers are edible as well as the roots, but the name of it escapes me.” Sol plucked a flower and tucked it behind Kelan’s ear. She laughed when he stuffed it in his mouth.

  Even if this wasn’t her home, they were both happy here, and he didn’t want anything about this to change.

  “The roots might go well in a soup with something else, as they’re quite bitter alone,” Sol told Ingrid. “But if you dig up the whole plant, it won’t be here for next year.”

  “We only need food to last us through the rest of this year,” Ingrid said.

  “And then what?” Kelan asked.

  Ingrid pressed her lips together, and he frowned. Ingrid and Rask were planning something, but they wouldn’t say what yet. Though Kelan and Sol had won over the children’s hearts, they hadn’t yet earned Rask’s trust.

  Kelan hated not knowing. Why wouldn’t they need to think of a future here in the Hivid Wood? That was all he thought about now, his present and his future with Sol at his side, a real roof over their head and a door to keep out the wraiths. This was all he ever wanted.

  “How long have you been living here in the Wood?” Sol asked Ingrid. “I’m surprised you don’t know any of the plants.”

  “Oh, it’s almost been ten years now, and Rask has been here twenty, but none of us knew anything when we came. We’ve had to teach ourselves how to live out here.”

  “And you lived in the palace before that?” Kelan asked.

  “I escaped after King Bruun—after my mother died.” Ingrid was very tight-lipped about her life in the palace. Each detail was unwillingly given, and Kelan pressed for more.

  “The king never knew you and your mother were Flameskins until then?”

  “No. My mother and I would eat emberstone dust every morning, a little pinch of that in your body to keep your pyra at bay. I didn’t know what it was we were doing. I never even knew I had a pyra until the day we ran out of emberstone.”

  “What happened?” Kelan asked. Her story echoed inside him with a certain familiarity.

  “Same thing I suspect happened to your mother,” Ingrid said, and he looked away. “It’s impossible for us to hide what we are for long.”

  Ingrid called Marta over. Marta had been wandering behind them with her bow trained on a songbird. “Pick these flowers and then I want you to dig up the roots. Go back to the haven for a spade, if you have to.”

  “But you need me as lookout. Aren’t you worried about the Flameskins?” Marta asked.

  “Which ones? You?” Ingrid asked.

  “No. The soldiers. Aya told me that Mie found two Flameskin soldiers in the pits this morning.”

  Kelan whirled around. “Flameskin soldiers?”

  “Aya likes to invent stories,” Ingrid said.

  “But Mie would never lie about something like that. If she saw them it must be true,” Marta said.

  “Have you asked Mie what she saw? Does Rask know?” Ingrid asked.

  Marta shrugged. “I don’t know. I had to go check the traps, and then you wanted me to come out.”

  Kelan swore. It was so easy to forget how fragile this new home was. They often found Flameskin scouts wandering the woods and searching for their hideout. The ones they caught were killed or left to wander into traps they had laid. If the Flameskin Army found the haven, they’d press all these children into service.

  Kelan fingered Markus’ button in his pocket. He couldn’t let the army turn these wraiths into monsters like Markus.

  “It’s probably nothing,” Silas said, but his eyes darted back and forth, surveying the trees.

  “We shouldn’t be out here if there are soldiers in the Wood,” Ingrid said. “Let’s go back. I need to speak to Rask.”

  “Ingrid!” cried a voice. A girl tore through the woods shouting Ingrid’s name. “There are soldiers at the haven!”

  Chapter 50

  Sol

  Sol yanked out her emberstone as she ran, and her quiver and bow bounced on her back. She was glad she hadn’t been fool enough to leave her bow at home.

  Kelan sprinted beside her with Azalea clutched to his chest. Her heart snagged on the image of the two of them, and the fear in Azalea’s face.

  Would it always be like this? Would they always be running and fighting for their lives?

  “Ingrid!” Kelan shouted. “Is there somewhere else you can take the littles?”

  “Marta, take Azalea to the lookout tree by the river. You’ll be safe there,” Ingrid said.

  Marta peeled off from their party with Azalea in her arms, and the others raced toward the haven. Sol and Kelan were the first to come up over the rise. Two female soldiers in blue uniforms stood beside the redwood staircase, flanking a woman in an elegant coat and skirt, cut in a military style.

  Though the woman wore no crown, Sol recognized her face, which had been stamped on every coin minted during the last five years of her reign.

  It was Vara Bruun, Queen of Tokkedal, and Commander of the Tokken Army. Daughter of the murderer, King Anton Bruun.

  Sol shoved her dagger into Kelan’s hand and notched an arrow in her bow. They both crouched low behind a log. The soldiers hadn’t spotted them yet. With each rapid breath Sol’s lungs filled with the scents of rotting wood.

  “Do you have my key?” Kelan asked.

  “We’re not that desperate yet.”

  There were only two soldiers accompanying the queen, but there would be more soldiers close by. They wouldn’t leave their queen unprotected.

  Sol took a breath to ground herself and came out of her crouch. If she knew anything about Tokkens, it was that they had no tolerance for fire. There would be no mercy from the Tokken queen.

  Silas and Ingrid raced up the hill behind them and gasped when they spotted the queen, then took a knee. Wraiths started pouring out of the haven’s staircase and bowed low to the queen.

  Silas the First tugged on Kelan’s trousers. “Bow, you idiot.”

  “I will not bow to a queen that slaughters Flameskins.”

  “She’s with us,” Silas hissed.

  With us? What did that even mean?

  Sol stared at the queen, and as Vara Bruun’s head swiveled toward them, she fell onto one knee and dropped her bow on the ground. Still close enough to pick up if she needed it.

  Queen Vara smiled brightly at their little party. “Ingrid! There you are!” She strode toward Ingrid and embraced her.

  Sol blinked at them as realization dawned. “They’re sisters.” They had grown up together. Though they had different mothers—one of them not quite human—it didn’t change that they were family.

  Just like Sol. She loved her sisters no less, even knowing that they didn’t share a mother.

  Queen Vara had eyes the same color as Kelan’s. Turquoise was the color of Bruun royalty. Which meant Kelan was related to this queen, the one who had ordered the death of so many Flameskins.

  And Ingrid welcomed her to their haven?

  Ingrid was smiling. “When they said there were soldiers at the haven, I didn’t know they meant you!”

  Kelan took Sol’s hand as they stood, and they both watched the queen warily. How could Vara slaughter Flameskins on the battlefield and embrace Ingrid?

  Queen Vara turned and frowned at Sol and Kelan. “I haven’t seen these before. Newcomers? I thought we agreed you wouldn’t harbor any but children.”

  “They’re hardly more than children themselves,” Ingrid said, “and they’ve become a part of the family already.”

  “I found them,” Silas said with a grin.

 
Sol and Kelan bowed stiffly when then queen approached.

  “I believe the boy is one of Nikel’s,” Ingrid said.

  The queen’s eyebrows rose. “My cousin, Nikel?” She studied Kelan’s face with interest and then gave a long sigh. “Ashes. He looks just like Nikel.” She sighed again. “So many mistakes have been made in this family.”

  Fiery heat rose to Sol’s cheeks. “Kelan is not a mistake.” Kelan hadn’t chosen who his parents were. He wasn’t at fault for what he was.

  The queen’s turquoise eyes were hard. “The mistake was my father killing Ingrid’s mother instead of saving her. The mistake was him declaring war on Flameskins and slaughtering them on our soil. That was the mistake.”

  Sol stepped back, unable to reply. The queen regretted the Burning War?

  “We’ve heard that Saint Katrine has returned to our shores. Is this true?” Ingrid asked, drawing away the queen’s piercing gaze.

  “Come,” Queen Vara said. “We have much to discuss.”

  To Sol’s surprise, Ingrid insisted that Sol and Kelan be present at the meeting with Queen Vara. Rask relented with only a few curses and sulky scowls. Only the adults that had been invited to meet with Queen Vara, as well as Silas the First, who was the oldest of the foundlings. The Flameskin men and women left their posts watching the haven’s children to meet with their queen.

  Queen Vara settled herself into Rask’s usual seat on the floor, and Sol and Kelan sat on a low branch that stuck through the wall. The other adults found seats on the floor, and Silas crouched in the eaves to push away spying wraiths who tried to press their ears against the holes in the ceiling.

  “What you have heard is true, Saint Katrine has returned to Tokkedal, and she rides at the head of the Tokken Army now,” the queen said.

  Hope and fear twisted through Sol simultaneously. What was deliverance for her family in the Ulves was death for her and Kelan.

  “The Saints convened in Omdren and have come to an agreement with the four other kingdoms of Nordby. They want to create a new empire so they can stand as a united front against the Flameskins. The kings have abdicated and handed their crowns to the Saints in return for protection.”

  “But why would they do that?” Rask asked. “The Saints are creations of Maja, too. They have fire in their blood just like we do.”

  Queen Vara sighed. She looked tired. “I’ve known Katrine for five years now, and I’ve seen what she can do. Fire obeys her in ways I never thought possible. She can’t be possessed. She can control the pyri of other Flameskins. Emberstones enhance her abilities, instead of stemming them. She’s not a Flameskin. She’s something else entirely. I really believe she was chosen and blessed by Maja to end the Burning War.”

  The room fell silent.

  “You really think the goddess would intervene in the affairs of mortals?” Ingrid asked in a hush.

  “I know she has. She was the one who gave Katrine her powers. And now Saint Katrine has come to accept my abdication and take my place as ruler of Tokkedal.”

  “But you won’t abdicate,” Ingrid said.

  “Yes. I will. And very soon.”

  Ingrid jumped to her feet. “You can’t! You can’t give Tokkedal to them! You can’t abandon us.”

  Vara sighed again. “I must. Without the Saints, Tokkedal will burn. Only she can stop the Flameskin armies. I’ll have nothing left to rule over but ashes, if I don’t.”

  “And what of us?” Ingrid demanded. “We just give up? Saint Katrine will come here, and she’ll find us. She’ll kill all of us. The children, too.”

  “I know all of this! You think this was an easy decision to make? But I have an entire kingdom of people to think of, not just you.”

  “You said you would protect us.”

  “And I will. I won’t abdicate until I’ve seen you all safely evacuated from Tokkedal.”

  Evacuated? Sol looked up and met Kelan’s troubled eyes.

  “They’ve found a place for us, then?” Rask asked, and his voice had an unfamiliar note of hope in it.

  “Yes,” Vara said. “But it’s not in Tokkedal. You have to leave the continent. We’ve found an island for you, and it should be big enough to support a colony.”

  Sol gasped aloud.

  That’s why Ingrid hadn’t been concerned about next year. They had always planned on abandoning Tokkedal.

  Sol’s mind spun, but Vara was still speaking. Everyone else was oblivious to the way the universe had tilted.

  “The ship will arrive in four weeks. I’ve already loaded it with supplies, and the crew is made up of a family of mages who will join your colony. One of their own is a Flameskin.”

  Sol gripped Kelan’s hand. She would never be able to return to the Ulves.

  Silas had floated down from the ceiling in a dreamy fog, and now he threw his arms around Ingrid. All of them were cheering and rejoicing. Sol knew she should be happy, but all she could think about was Hillerod and Ma and her sisters and the familiar peaks of the Ulves.

  Kelan pulled her in, and she rested her head against his chest as she shuddered.

  “We don’t have to go,” Kelan whispered.

  But when she looked into his eyes, she could see the hope and the want there.

  “Of course we’re going.” The words were painful.

  She twisted the ring on her finger. The gods had given them a chance at a future, and she wouldn’t squander it. But leaving the Ulves was never supposed to be permanent. She had promised to return.

  Queen Vara had pulled out a map and pointed to a place on the Tokken coast where they would find the ship. “You’ll have plenty of supplies in the ship so that you can plant something this summer, and still have seed for next spring.”

  “Is the island far from here?” Silas asked.

  Vara nodded. “It’s an island in the Archipelago. It will take several weeks to get there.”

  “And once we leave, we can’t come back?” Kelan asked.

  “No, you can’t,” Vara said. “I’ve taken great pains to keep this whole operation a secret.”

  Kelan hadn’t needed to ask that question. Sol had already known the answer.

  “Has Saint Katrine already marched on the Ulves?” Sol asked.

  It was nearly summer now, and the Flameskins would’ve started their march through the pass long ago. They could’ve already passed through Hillerod and burned it down. Her family could’ve been killed, or if not, their house and their field would be gone.

  “She won’t make it to the Ulves. She’ll stay along the coast for now to push out the main Flameskin Army.”

  Sol couldn’t get her breath under control. Her heart was beating too fast, and she couldn’t inhale fully.

  Kelan took her hand and squeezed it. “Let’s get some air.”

  She pushed him away and faced the queen. “My family is in the Ulves.”

  The queen turned her steely turquoise eyes on her. “A Cassian prince lost his bride to the Flameskins, and he’s ridden out with his army to drive them from the mountains. The Ulve villages are safe for now.”

  Sol sank against Kelan.

  But the queen had now leaned in and was looking at Sol. “What was it you said your name was?”

  “I don’t think I introduced them,” Ingrid said. “Sol and Kelan Burke. They’ve been with us now for a few weeks.”

  “And which village do you hail from, Sol?”

  “Baarka,” Kelan said quickly and pulled Sol in closer. Both their hearts were beating fast.

  The queen narrowed her eyes at Sol. She knew who Sol was. Sol could see it in the queen’s face.

  Isabella’s ghost had chased Sol all the way to the Hivid Wood.

  Chapter 51

  Kelan

  Kelan held tightly to Sol’s hand as they crossed the rope bridges back to their home. He wasn’t sure if the wind in the trees would knock her over or transform her into a hurricane, so he clung to her to keep her grounded.

  He parted the leafy curtain, a
nd their room was blessedly empty. There weren’t even any children on the roof. The novelty of a queen in Hivid Wood must have drawn them off to other parts of the haven to play or to eavesdrop.

  Kelan studied Sol’s face. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  “The queen knows who I am.”

  “And she’s sided with Ingrid and the haven. I don’t think she’ll turn you over to Prince Turullius.”

  She wilted onto the bed. “I just want all of this to be over. I keep thinking that finally we’ve made it, then everything comes crashing down again.”

  He gathered her up in his arms and kissed her forehead. “I know.”

  “I promised my sisters I would go back. I promised the mountains I would return.” She let out a sob and swallowed hard.

  Kelan had to force himself to take slow, steady breaths. If Sol was going to fall apart, he had to keep himself together.

  She had pulled the acorn out of her pocket and ran her thumb over its glowing surface. She did this often. It was drawing her back. Next time they tried to leave the mountains, he knew the Ulves wouldn’t let her go.

  He put his hand over hers, hiding the acorn from view. “Maybe that’s why the Ulves gave you that seed. They knew you were leaving, and they wanted you to take a piece of the mountains with you.”

  She sucked in a ragged breath. “No. That’s not true. This was never supposed to be a permanent thing. We were supposed to go back home after the war.”

  “But I can’t go back. You think your ma would let me? You think your neighbors wouldn’t attack me again? Sol, this war ends when all the Flameskins in Tokkedal are dead. I have no choice but to leave or to give myself up to Saint Katrine.”

  “I know.” She blinked twice, and a fast tear rolled down her cheek.

  He let out a long, long sigh. When he had fallen in love with Sol, he should’ve known the mountains would always claim a piece of her. She couldn’t stray from them for very long without withering.

  He wanted to shout and rejoice. They had finally found a home and a chance at freedom.