Enna Burning

by Shannon Hale

  "Yes," she said.

  Finn tilted his head with an expression that was almost accusatory.

  "I am" said Enna. "You don't need to be so snappish about it."

  "I saw him, you know, do that to you." He glanced down at her ankles, and from the look in his eyes Enna thought he was seeing her on fire again. "It didn't seem like Leifer to do that. I've wondered if it was him what did it, or if he couldn't control the fire, or . . . " He shrugged.

  Enna looked at him straight on. "I can control it, Finn. And that's why Razo's here, and you, to help me make sure."

  "Well, I'm glad you'll have a sword watching your back."

  "Come on, you two," said Razo, slowing down to their pace. "If we want to reach a campsite before middle night, we need to give these animals some exercise."

  They found the spot long after dark. It was protected from a south view by a swell in the land and a line of river trees. The river still ran, and they watered their horses. The day had warmed the land, and the wild grasses did not break under their feet. Because of Finn, Razo had managed to come by a larger tent, but when he and Enna pulled their bedrolls inside, Finn remained outside.

  "Come on, Finn," said Razo, "it's warmer with people around you."

  Finn refused, not meeting their looks. "It's warm enough out here."

  During the night, whenever Razo's snarled breathing or her frozen feet woke her, Enna fed heat back into the fire. She watched its initial blaze light up Finn's curled-up body.

  In the morning, they donned their stolen uniforms. Finn insisted that he and Razo hold up the oiled skin and allow Enna to undress behind. The ride from their camp to Adelmund took them half the day. They rode right through the outer circles of the camp into the town and down the main road. Enna noticed Tiran citizens who were not soldiers—women with pale, cropped hair who did not wear the blue sash of Bayern prisoners, Tiran men in working clothes, Tiran men in robes of leadership. They're planning to stay, thought Enna. Their heat wrapped around her and scratched against her skin. Burn, burn, burn. Everything looked flammable.

  "Razo," Enna said softly. She gripped her saddle and felt her chin start to quiver.

  "Just a minute," said Razo, distracted by his counting.

  Enna looked back at Finn. He was scanning the surroundings, but when he saw her, he nodded that all was well. They did not notice her agitation, and that encouraged her. Perhaps it was not as bad as she thought. She scratched her arms and watched the road before her tilt and twist. Ignore it. It's just the heat, she told herself. The buildings around her seemed to crackle in anticipation. A breeze whipped up the tent flaps like the dancing flames of a white fire. Smoky plumes of steam poured upward from a cook pot. All the world wanted to burn.

  She felt the need twisting and writhing under her control. If she was not careful. . . but was that not why she was here? To burn? Perhaps the desire was powerful right now simply because it was time to burn. But she had promised Razo to wait for his cue.

  "Razo, say it's all right," she said.

  Razo looked at her, bewildered. "What's all right?"

  "Just tell me I can. Now."

  Razo blinked a few times, then seemed to understand. "Go ahead, I guess."

  Before he finished speaking, fire ruptured the roof of a large storage tent and licked the air as though grasping for more. The relief of letting go was so fierce, she wanted to either sob or laugh out loud. The tightness in her chest loosened, her hands stopped shaking, and she took a deep breath and felt cleaner.

  "Over there," said Finn, pointing away from the three. He had practiced those two words for hours on the ride to their campsite, trying to imitate as best as they could guess how one from Tira might sound. It seemed to work. A general rush of soldiers ran toward the fire and the direction he pointed.

  Enna found she could still burn. No one seemed to suspect them, and burning more than once made sense, so she gave herself permission. The freedom was exhilarating. She found another target farther from the road so it would appear that the fire-witch was running away. A pile of hay under an oiled cloth began to snap and smoke.

  "Over there," said Finn, pointing to the right of the hay.

  More rushing, more shouting. Razo fought a smile.

  Farther ahead, Enna spotted stacked barrels of wine and felt giddy to discover that place in her chest expanded to receive yet more heat.

  "Ov—" Finn started, then stopped. In the excitement, he was getting ahead of himself as Enna had not yet set the fire. She glanced back at him with a laughing smirk and then sent heat hurtling into barrels of wine. The explosion splattered the surrounding white tents with purple like the blood of a huge beast. At last the fire in her was sated, and the heat near her skin drifted away.

  "Over there," said Finn, confidently this time.

  "Where?" A frantic soldier came up to Finn and grabbed his ankle. "What do you see?"

  "Over there," said Enna, pointing beyond the barrels. The soldier ran off with his sword drawn. Razo bit his lip.

  The three rode around the camp as though aiming to head off any escaping criminals, then veered off to the north and galloped away. After a league or so, they slowed their horses and began to chuckle.

  "Over there," said Razo in an extreme Tiran accent, pointing ahead.

  Finn looked left, right, left, with the quick movements of a bird.

  "Where?" Enna asked with mock panic. "Do you see something?"

  "Over there," said Finn, relishing every syllable and pointing up in the air with a look of complete bewilderment.

  They laughed, clutching their saddles to stay upright.

  "I've missed you, Finn," Enna said unexpectedly.

  "Yes, me too." Finn smiled one of his large, gracious smiles.

  There was still some light when they returned to the campsite. In celebration, Enna tried to roast a squirrel out of a tree, but the meat tasted as it smelled—like singed fur.

  "Well, that's enough of that," said Enna, dumping the uneaten meat into the fire. The flames snapped into it gleefully.

  They feasted instead on the two squirrels Razo had downed with his sling. The taste of roasted meat, the success of the day, and the sound of Finn and Razo laughing felt like a bubble of contentment expanding in her chest. She thought, Fire does good things, and wondered why she had never thought of it before.

  After eating, they stared at the fire, always a startling sight when the rest of the world was dark, and retold stories they had learned from Isi back in the animal worker days. Each told their favorite—Razo about the warrior whose mother bathed him in her own blood to make him invincible; Enna about the girl who could weave living animals on her loom that carried her to the land where music was first forged; Finn about the man who so loved an imprisoned woman that his heart broke and flew out of his chest and sang to her each day through her barred window.

  Enna watched the fire as he spoke and imagined what he saw, the face of the woman as she listened to the song, gaining the courage to escape her prison, learning that the bird's wings sprouted from the two halves of the man's broken heart. And then the woman followed the bird back to its master to find him dead, so she bade the heart rejoin with the man and swore to love him as he loved her. Enna glanced up then. The ending she knew was not so tidy, but Finn seemed to relish his improved version.

  With night fell a fresh winter cold. Light, airy flakes of snow like gray ashes fell on the fire and made sweet, soft hisses. Razo stood and stretched.

  "Come on in the tent tonight, Finn," he said. "It's cramped but cozy, and I don't want to have to dig you out in the morning."

  "You'd better," said Enna. "I shouldn't have to be the only one suffering through Razo's snoring. He sounds like an entire pen of angry piglets."

  Razo shoved her shoulder and crawled into the tent. Finn hesitated, glanced at Enna, and nodded.

  Late in the night, Enna woke. She was lying on her side facing Finn, though she could barely make him out in the blackness. She felt
his breath touch her forehead in soft, rhythmic sighs. What woke her was his hand on her hair. He pulled back, and her head felt lighter for losing his touch. She had never imagined this before, what it might be like to lie beside him, to feel so warm and safe and content. Her heart hit against her ribs, and she tried to peer through the darkness and see if he was awake and, if so, how he looked at her.

  Suddenly she realized she was holding her breath and quickly released it, long and slow, moaning slightly so that he might think she was still asleep.

  In a hush-soft voice, Finn said, "All I've ever wanted was to be near you." Then he rolled onto his back and sighed into sleep.

  Enna held very still. Her muscles tightened from her brow to her feet, afraid he would touch her, afraid he would not. The sound of her heart would not leave her ears. She gasped in pain and realized she had pulled heat inside her and held it. Frantically her mind sought a place to expel it. She found the dying warmth of their fire pit and she sent the heat through the break in the tent flap. In the brief burst of light, she saw Finn. One hand curled under his chin. His eyes were closed, his lashes touched the tops of his cheeks. He smiled slightly.

  With nothing to feed on but ash, the fire quickly died. The darkness was more absolute for the sudden lack of light, and Enna could not see even the outline of his body.

  "You're awake?" she whispered. No response.

  She turned on her back, stared at the patterns that moved in the darkness, and wondered why she suddenly felt as vulnerable as a hare in a meadow, a trout in clear water. She put a hand over her smile to prevent a laugh. In the morning she woke that way, her fingers resting on her mouth as though holding back words so secret and insistent, they might slip out while she slept.

  Chapter 11

  The next day, Enna noticed for the first time that Finn's brown eyes had specks of yellow around the edges. It gave the effect of deepness, and she found herself looking at him more than before. His hands were a man's hands, callused and strong. His face had lost its boyish roundness some time ago, and since the war began, his timid grins were rare gifts. He was pleasant to look at.

  The first time she found herself alone with him after Adelmund, they were walking back from the stables. In the distance, they both spotted Hesel hanging laundry. Finn said, "Razo told me what he said about Hesel. And me. I just want you to know it's not true."

  "Oh," she said, wanting to ask him why it mattered, to talk at last about what that might mean to her. But they passed near a cookfire, and the heat stretched out toward her, and the hollowness in her chest pulsed eagerly. Her throat itched, her stomach hurt, and she forgot what she was going to say. She thought she must be coming down with a cold.

  Scout reports came from Eylbold, where Enna had first set her fires, that the Tiran were building a gallows. Speculation was rampant in Ostekin. Were they planning to execute Bayern townsfolk? Captured soldiers? Or something even worse? The talk bothered her, like being pinched over and over again in the same place. When she faced southwest and thought of the Tiran encampment, the gallows were on her mind.

  "We should go to Eylbold," she said to Razo. "We should burn the gallows."

  Razo shook his head. "Talone gave me the next assignment—Adelmund."

  But the mission went badly. This time they were quizzed at the perimeter, and when Razo did not dare to answer for his accent and Finn said, "Over there," and no one looked, they fled. Enna set a couple of tents on fire as they left. She hoped it might serve as a distraction, turn a few eyes from them to the fires. They escaped all right after Finn fought off two soldiers, but still she ached for something else. She was irritated and anxious, and as she rode everything seemed slightly off angle, as though the earth were tipping slowly to one side.

  They rode east all night, thinking to confuse any followers. After two hours or more, they saw a lone rider ahead, flying east as well. The three exchanged looks and understood—this was someone from Adelmund, most likely riding with word of Bayern dressed as Tiran entering towns to light fires. They spurred their mounts in a chase. As they neared, Razo loaded his sling with a stone and at full gallop shot it at the rider's back. He slumped forward and his mount slowed for a moment, long enough for Enna to get close.

  She had not decided yet what to do with the fire when she brought the heat inside her. As soon as it spun in her chest, it began to pull out, seeking the closest target—the Tiran's body. Enna cried out, struggling briefly with the nascent fire. Into him, it prompted. Send the fire inside. She grappled, the heat searing her chest, and finally released the fire against the ground at the horse's feet. The animal spooked, rearing back from the flames, and sent the rider to the ground.

  Razo helped Finn tie the spy's ankles and wrists and sling him over Finn's pommel.

  "Well, that was good luck," said Razo. "He was on his way to Eylbold, no doubt, ready to go screaming about the fire-witch. Well done, Champion Finn, and that wasn't bad slinging on my part, if I can say so."

  "You just did," said Finn. He smiled at Enna, but his smile quickly faded. "Are you all right?"

  "Mm? Oh, yes, fine. Well done." She did not feel much up to talking.

  It was a long ride back to Ostekin for Enna. She tried to flinch away from the memory of where she had almost sent the fire, but the long, chilled hours on Merry's back gave no escape. She shivered, wanting to rid herself of that feeling the way a horse shakes off flies.

  She had wanted to set a person on fire.

  But I didn't, she comforted herself. I resisted. That's all that matters. By the time they arrived back in Ostekin, she was nearly recovered. The numbness in her chest had eased, and she felt warm and comfortable.

  After Razo and Finn delivered the scout to the prison guards, the three sat around a Forest band campfire. Razo's eyes were so tired, they looked bruised purple. Finn pushed his sword tip into the ground and rested his forehead on the hilt.

  "What a night," said Razo. "I thought it'd never end. I thought we'd end up filleted and battered and buttered on bread."

  "Good that we stopped that spy," said Finn.

  "Suppose." Razo glanced at Enna to gauge her reaction. "Still, I don't think we should raid again for some time, maybe weeks."

  "Ha," Enna said playfully. She hoped he was kidding. The thought of not burning for weeks gave her a sick, panicky feeling in her gut. "You've heard the rumors. We have to go to Eylbold."

  Razo twisted small holes in the ground with a stick. He looked close to nodding off. "I think you burned there too many times in the beginning."

  Enna handed Finn her empty cup, and he stood to fetch another round of heated milk and honey from the Forest band cookfire.

  "They might not know to look for us," she said, "Bayern dressed as Tiran, since we stopped the scout. Not if we go soon. Tomorrow."

  Razo tossed his stick into the fire. "Scouting reports also say that's their center now. It's dangerous. We might have a better chance if you hadn't set those tents aflame in Adelmund after they already suspected us."

  "Someone should go," said Enna.

  "Talone'll probably send someone. . . . "

  "But he doesn't know about me, and I'm the best choice. Finn?"

  Finn stood by, her mug warming his hands. He met Razo's eyes and looked down.

  "Enna," he said gently.

  Enna stood up, looking back and forth between the two. "What is it? What's going on? You two have something you want to tell me?"

  Razo glanced at Finn again and sighed. "You're not going to say a word, are you, Finn? Well, I'm not afraid." He met Enna's eyes defiantly, then blinked and looked away. "You're spooking us, Enna-girl. You're, you're not right."

  Enna felt her jaw tighten. "What do you mean I'm not right?"

  "I'll tell you straight," said Razo. "Sometimes when we're out there, the expression on your face gives me skin prickles to my scalp."

  "I've been doing fine," she said. "Am I a charred corpse lying in Adelmund? Have I set the town on fire and every Tir
an in sight? I'm doing well. I made promises and I'm keeping them. I mean, I let you two in on the secret about the fire, but I had to, and I promised I wouldn't burn people and I haven't, except that once, but it was a mistake and I haven't done it again. You don't know how hard it is sometimes, but I still hold back."

  "But it's hard," said Finn. "I've been worried, Enna. If it's hard for you, then maybe, for a little bit, you could take a break."

  "No, I can't take a break." The augury, she thought, but she did not want to tell Finn what she had done during his combat. "I don't need it. I'm fine."

  "You looked funny after we caught that spy," said Razo. "I don't know what to say. It'd be a shame to stop. I mean, we've been doing so well, but you . . . " His voice got quiet as he stared at the fire. "You've changed. You've got that wild look in you, like Leifer had before the end. I think you're one loop short of a knot, Enna. A little tug, and you're undone."

  Enna snorted a laugh. "I'm telling you I'm fine. I would know if I was close to losing control, and I'm not. Finn, don't you trust me?"

  Finn paused. "Not just now," he said sadly.

  They all went silent then. Enna turned her back to stare at the fire and dry the shock from her face. Panting flames the color of scarecrow straw twisted and writhed out of blackened wood. Someone laid a hand on her shoulder, probably Finn, but she ignored him. She played at sending bits of heat into its orange core, the fire splashing in brief higher bursts, like tossing stones in a pond. The exercise made her twitch.

  When she looked up again, the flames still burned in memory in her eyes. It was a few moments before her sight adjusted again to the night and she saw that Razo and Finn were gone.

  A cough shook her chest, and she coughed harder, trying to dislodge something caught in her throat. Nothing budged, so she tried to ignore the sensation. She sat down, closed her eyes, and through her eyelids saw the campfire tensing and turning. She imagined she was watching her own insides. Her heart was stoked coals, pulsing heat. Making ash. She felt like the loneliest person in the world.