Firefrost: A Flameskin Chronicles Novel

by Camille Longley

  But he had to pretend he was sorry to be leaving Tokkedal.

  He wasn’t sorry.

  He was anxious to leave behind the war and the memories of blood and ashes. If they left Tokkedal, they’d finally be safe. And the Ulves wouldn’t be able to reclaim his bride.

  She had to understand they had no other choice.

  “If we don’t go with the others, where will we stay?” he asked. “Where can we hide from the Saints?”

  “Don’t be a fool. We’re going. Of course, we’re going.” She pressed her hands against his chest to shove him away, but he caught her wrists and pushed her onto the bed beneath him.

  “I’m a fool only for you.”

  “Stop it.”

  He kissed her. She tasted like dappled sunshine and the bubbling creek they had waded across this morning.

  She was quiet for a long moment. He brushed her hair away from her eyes and ran his thumb over her tear-stained cheek.

  Sol.

  Leaving Tokkedal wouldn’t break her. She would recover. It was no wonder the mountains were loath to give her to him. There was no woman more beautiful, no woman more passionate or strong.

  She sighed. “I just wish I could see them one more time. And the mountains.”

  He sucked in a breath. He wouldn’t be getting Sol back if they returned. The Ulves would steal her away from him, wind vines around her to drag her away. And four weeks wasn’t enough time to get there and back.

  She was blinking tears out of her eyes again. Kelan’s heart ached. She wouldn’t even get to tell her family goodbye.

  “What if . . . What if we wrote them a letter. You could tell them we were leaving. You wouldn’t be able to say where we were going, but they would know you were safe.”

  “I don’t know how to write.”

  He blinked. “You don’t?”

  “You do?”

  He opened his mouth, but words failed him. How had he known her and loved her for so long and not known she couldn’t read?

  “Does anyone in Hillerod know how to read?” he asked.

  “The matron and her daughter know a few characters. Will you write a letter for me, Kelan?” She sucked in a breath and let it out. “At least then Carol will know that I’m still alive.”

  He pressed his cheek against hers. “Yes, my love. I’ll write a letter for you.”

  “But how will it get to them?”

  He lowered his voice and glanced above them for eavesdropping wraiths. “We can go into the town on the other side of the Wood. They’ll have paper there, and they can send it for us. It will only take us a couple days to get to town and back.”

  “But Rask and Ingrid won’t let us leave. You know how strict they are about it.”

  “We leave tonight. We won’t tell them.”

  She wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you, Kelan. It would mean so much to me.”

  The boards outside their dwelling creaked, giving them warning that an adult was approaching. There was no warning before wraiths appeared.

  If they had a real door, people would at least start knocking. Not that it mattered anymore.

  “Kelan?” Ingrid asked.

  “We’re here,” he said as he rolled off Sol.

  Ingrid parted the curtain of leaves and stepped inside, followed by the queen. He caught a glimpse of the queen’s two guards outside.

  The queen stooped beneath their low roof and found a seat on a branch. Ingrid sat on the end of the bed, and she looked cross.

  “Sol d’Hillerod, isn’t it?” the queen asked.

  Sol stiffened, and Kelan took her hand.

  “You didn’t tell me you were a fugitive,” Ingrid said, glaring at Sol.

  “We’re all fugitives here,” Kelan said.

  “Tokkens have been scouring the country looking for you,” Ingrid said. “Imagine if they had caught wind you came here.”

  “But they didn’t. I made sure of that,” Sol said.

  “You destroyed a treaty that was years in planning,” the queen said. “And if Turullius hadn’t been so incited by his loss, the Ulves would’ve burned, and I would’ve been powerless to stop it.”

  Sol hung her head.

  “And I suppose you are the Flameskin accused of kidnapping her?” the queen asked, turning her sharp eyes on Kelan.

  “It isn’t kidnapping if she came willingly.”

  “You were a soldier in the Flameskin Army?” Queen Vara asked.

  He shifted under her gaze. “Yes.”

  “What was your office?”

  “I was a lieutenant.”

  “A lieutenant? They promote them so young.”

  “We die young, too, Your Majesty.”

  “And I suppose you both know what happened to Commander Jahr in Hillerod.”

  Kelan’s heart thumped loud enough in his chest that he was sure the queen could hear it. He couldn’t breathe. He’d take the fall for Sol. He deserved as much for all the Tokken lives he had ended

  The queen sighed. “At least now the search is finally over.”

  “You can’t take her back to Turullius,” Kelan said.

  “Of course not,” the queen snapped. “The only thing I can imagine being worse than having your bride kidnapped by a demon is having her leave you for one.”

  Kelan flinched.

  “Turullius is a monster,” Sol said. “I’d rather be dead than marry him.”

  Queen Vara scowled. “Yes, I suppose you would know how to judge a monster. And I’ll have you know that Commander Jahr was a friend of mine, and a talented leader.”

  Did Vara know that Jahr had threatened the life of Sol’s sister? Kelan couldn’t find it in his heart to be sorry for Jahr’s death. Jahr had tried to force Sol to marry against her will and had wanted to drag her corpse back to Turullius. If there ever had been a monster, it was Commander Jahr.

  “Cousin,” the queen said, meeting Kelan’s gaze, “you will tell me everything you know about the Flameskin Army, its positions and its numbers.”

  “So, you fight some Flameskins and save others?” he asked.

  “We’ve both fought in this war, Lieutenant. I’ve only ever raised my sword against those who have burned my country and killed my people. If you’d like to join your dead brothers, please,” she said, gesturing to Kelan’s scimitar. “I’d like to repay the favor.”

  Sol clung to Kelan’s arm. “He didn’t kill Jahr and neither did I.”

  “I know that. I presided over the hunter’s trial.”

  “Josef?” Sol asked, her voice small.

  “He was hanged for his crimes against Tokkedal.”

  A strangled cry escaped Sol’s lips. The death stung Kelan as well. A reminder of how little power either of them had, and how fragile their existence was.

  “I ask again, Lieutenant,” Vara said. “I don’t want to see more people hang. You will tell me what you know.”

  Kelan exhaled slowly. The Flameskins were dead anyway. Maybe it was better this way. The war would be shorter. But it was painful to think that every one of his kind would be slaughtered, and that he had contributed to it.

  “I don’t know how much of what I know is still accurate, but I’ll tell you,” Kelan said.

  “Good, and I will keep your secrets in return. When I see you both at the disembarking, I will ask another favor of you.”

  “What kind of a favor?” Sol asked.

  “The kind you cannot refuse.” The queen rose and knocked her head against a low-hanging branch. She scowled at it before turning to Kelan. “Let’s take a walk, cousin. I want you to tell me everything.”

  Chapter 52

  Sol

  The rope ladder creaked as they descended, and the wooden rungs slapped against the tree trunk. Every sound felt like a thunderclap in the darkness. Stealth was nigh impossible in the tree haven. Everything creaked and rattled and groaned, and there were sleeping children sprawled across every surface.

  They reached the ground, and Sol waved Kelan forward
. The moonlight barely touched the forest floor, and Sol was tempted to light a flame in her palm. But there would still be wraith scouts in the trees.

  She and Kelan walked in silence, tripping over the roots and stumbling over rocks hidden beneath the dead leaves. Mist filled the air and beaded on their skin. The forest smelled of damp tree rot.

  There was a rustle in the trees above them. Sol grabbed Kelan’s arm and put a finger to her lips. They both froze, listening, and she searched the treetops for movement.

  “Kelan.”

  They both jumped as Silas the First appeared from behind a tree with Marta beside them. The wraiths both had their bows notched, but hadn’t pulled back the strings.

  “So, you’re leaving,” Silas said. “Rask said you would.”

  “How could you abandon us?” Marta demanded. “You were supposed to come with us to the colony. You were our family.”

  The wraiths advanced on them, and Kelan held up his hands. “We’re coming back.”

  Silas drew his bow, but it was still pointed away from them. “We trusted you, and all along you were working with the Flameskin Army. You going to send them after us now?”

  “No!” Sol said. “Of course we won’t.”

  “Then why are you leaving us?” Marta demanded.

  “My family lives in the Ulves. I just want to send them a letter to tell them goodbye.”

  “And give away our position?” Silas asked.

  “No. We would never do that. We’re going to the town on the highway and then we’re coming straight back,” Kelan said.

  “It’s too dangerous for you to leave the Wood,” Marta said.

  “Kelan and I will be fine. We managed before we got here.”

  Marta threw her arms around Sol. Silas sighed and threw his bow down so he could clap Kelan on the back.

  “Don’t stay away too long,” Silas said. “We need you two, Sol especially. She’s the only one in this camp who knows anything. We would’ve starved this summer without her.”

  “We’ll only be gone a couple days,” Sol said.

  “Rask is going to kill us when he finds out you’re gone,” Marta said. “I think he’s afraid he’s going to have to do some work when we get to the island. He’s hoping Kelan will do all the heavy lifting.”

  “We’ll walk you at least as far as the pits,” Marta said. “I talked to Mie earlier, and she said there really are Flameskin soldiers there.”

  “There was no warning before Queen Vara showed up at the haven,” Sol said. She was still bothered by this. The haven was so vulnerable. They had a dozen scouts out all the time, but they couldn’t be expected to cover the whole forest.

  “Queen Vara knows her way, so she moves fast,” Marta said, and made a face. “But I guess we need to do better.”

  Sol squinted at a couple blinking lights in the distance. They were orange lights, like lanterns. Queen Vara and her retinue? Wraiths?

  “Kelan,” she murmured, pointing at the lights.

  “I see it, too,” Silas whispered. “I had thought Queen Vara would be long gone by now.” He pulled a leafy hood over his head and made a silent gesture to Marta. They sped toward the light before Sol could stop them.

  She and Kelan unslung their packs and drew their weapons. Kelan pulled them both behind the trunk of two conjoined redwoods. Sol’s heart beat fast. Kelan rubbed her arm with a clammy hand. The wind swirled the fog around them, obscuring their view.

  It was probably nothing. A traveler who had gotten lost. A woman leaving behind an unwanted Flameskin child. But at night the Wood was dark and strange. This wasn’t the Ulves, and the trees and the sounds were unfamiliar.

  Kelan had his sword in his right hand, but pulled her in with his left. “I hate this. I hate always being in danger. It’s still four weeks before that boat gets here.”

  She, too, had somewhat forgotten what it was like to be out there in the world, where everyone was an enemy. Even here they weren’t safe. What would it cost her to leave the Wood to send a letter to her family? She had too much to lose now.

  “Maybe we should stay here,” she said.

  A scream pierced the air. Silas’.

  Sol gasped into her hand as Kelan hugged her to him. She peered around the tree trunk, and a shape hurtled toward them in the darkness. Sol fumbled with her bow, but Kelan was ready. He stepped out from behind the tree and lifted his sword.

  Marta skidded to a halt. “Silas!” she sobbed, pointing toward the approaching lights.

  “What happened? Who are they?” Sol whispered.

  “Flameskin soldiers. They grabbed Silas. We didn’t see the ones behind us.”

  “How many?” Kelan demanded.

  Marta shook her head. “I don’t know. A lot.”

  Sol grabbed Marta by the shoulders. Marta was shaking badly and had lost her bow. “Go back to the camp and warn the others. Run!”

  Marta took off in the direction of the haven, and Kelan followed after her, but stopped when Sol didn’t follow.

  “We have to hide,” he said.

  “But, Silas—”

  He took her hand and pulled her toward the haven. “There’s nothing we can do for him now.”

  Sol tried to keep her breath steady. They had taken Silas. There had to be some way to save him.

  “The pits!” she said. “We can lead them to the pits and trap them there.”

  Kelan’s face twisted painfully, but then he nodded. He let her lead him in the direction of the pit traps.

  The lights were close now: flames cupped in hands that illuminated the faces of the Flameskin soldiers. Silas kicked and screamed somewhere behind them. The noise ricocheted inside Sol, each sound making her wince.

  She drew her bow and aimed at one of the lights, then released her arrow. There was a scream and the light went out.

  “Archers!” one of the soldiers cried.

  “Let’s give them something to follow,” Sol said. She pulled her bow over her shoulder and took her emberstone from her pocket. She lit a flame in her hand and held it aloft.

  Then they ran.

  “There!” someone shouted. “After them!”

  Panic surged hot in Sol’s blood, twining with the fire in her veins. The flame on her hand flickered and wavered as they ran. The emberstone wasn’t large enough to sustain fire for long, and once it was gone, they would be plunged back into darkness. If they weren’t careful, she and Kelan would be lying at the bottom of the pits instead of the soldiers.

  Comets shot out of the darkness and exploded on the ground around them.

  “Get down!” Kelan shouted. He launched himself at her as more blasts erupted through the trees. They rolled across the mossy forest floor as fire flew over their heads. Kelan crawled on top of her and covered her with his body.

  A fiery orb struck Kelan’s side and tossed him across the forest floor. He cried out as he rolled and his clothes and skin burned.

  “Kelan!” Sol screamed.

  She dropped to his side and beat out the flames as he writhed. His left arm had been badly burned, and the skin was black and red and horrible.

  “The manacle. Get it off!” he cried.

  She fumbled for the key. She had to heal him. The air brightened around them, glowing orange and crackling with heat. She whirled around and threw up her hands, calling on the fire inside her emberstone.

  Fire burst out of her palms, striking the fireball that soared toward her. The flames from her hands deflected the spinning orb of fire and it hit a tree above them, showering them with sparks and scraps of bark.

  But her emberstone was empty now. She was as helpless as Kelan.

  Kelan had inserted the key into his shackle. It clicked open and her heart stuttered in her chest. She saw the change in Kelan’s face as his eyes darkened and his lips twitched.

  “Run!” he shouted at her. He hissed as he put a hand to his burned arm and ran fire across the burn, sealing some of the mutilated skin.

  She took a step backw
ard. Soldiers appeared through the trees in their red coats, fire glittering in their hands. The tree above them had caught fire, and burning debris rained down on them. She threw her hands over her face as cinders fell onto her head.

  “Sol.”

  Her heart shuddered.

  Kelan had stood and stared at her, his lips quirked in a smug smile. His voice was dark and unnatural. This wasn’t Kelan anymore.

  The demon took a step toward her, and she stepped back. Its face contorted again.

  “Run, Sol!” It was Kelan’s voice again.

  “Fight it!”

  But in answer, fire exploded out of his fingertips. She screamed and covered her face. Fire struck the ground in front of her. Kelan poured a line of fire across the ground and separated them.

  “Kelan!” she shouted.

  The wall of fire surged, growing higher and stranding her on the other side of the flames. He had cut her off from himself and the Flameskin soldiers.

  Balls of fire shot through the flames and Sol rolled to the side as they struck the ground. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. Her hands shook as she pushed herself up to her feet again.

  “Kelan!”

  She screamed his name as the wall of flames crackled and consumed the ground at her feet.

  Someone hissed and she was grabbed from behind as a hand clamped over her mouth.

  Chapter 53

  Kelan

  Kelan clutched his arm and poured fire into his wound. He clenched his teeth against the pain as he retreated toward the wall of flames behind him.

  He’d had several revelations over the last few minutes, and the first was that burns hurt worse than he’d thought.

  The Flameskin soldiers advanced, and he was backed up against the wall of fire. Sol screamed his name again, and the sound of her voice tore his heart in half.

  That was his second revelation: He’d never see Sol again.

  She shouted again on the other side of the flames, and soldiers hurled balls of fire toward the sound. Kelan swore as he threw a deflective burst into the air and blocked most of the fireballs.

  Run, Sol. Please, go.

  Her emberstone was exhausted by now. He couldn’t let her get burned. He was lost, but it wouldn’t be for nothing if she got away.