Shadow of Flame

by Caitlyn McFarland

  Nodding tightly, Cadoc walked out. He’d had too many close calls tonight.

  He closed the door behind him and stretched out as well as he could on the too-short couch, listening to her muffled voice through the door. She didn’t have to speak out loud—a communicator picked up thoughts, not sound—but he was glad for it. Concentrating on her voice, his mind was less likely to wander to the person she was talking to.

  He’d found Seren—Ancients grant he’d done it in time to save Kai. Next, he would see the Seeress home safe. He fisted his good hand like he could retain the feel of her fingers. No matter how much he wanted it, he wouldn’t touch her again. No more messes. Once she was safe, he could focus on breaking the curse so he could go home.

  He was so sundering tired of being alone.

  Chapter Five

  Don’t Let It Disappear

  Rhys flew around the face of the mountain and landed on the ledge outside his rooms. Situated near the peak, it was only large enough for one or two dragons. Calling the fire, he shrank and became a man.

  After nearly a week straight of travel, he was ready for a rest. He’d arrived home—Kavar in tow—just this afternoon. The Council had met. Most of them congratulated him, though Powell only muttered. Deryn told him before the Council meeting that she’d seen the Draig councilman talking to Ceri, former councilwoman and the most anti-Wingless dragon in Eryri. The news didn’t shock Rhys, only made him tired. Ceri was an old thorn in his side, but since she no longer sat on the Council, she was incapable of doing real harm.

  After the Council meeting, Deryn had told him Ffion wasn’t eating again.

  He walked from fading orange sunlight into the deep, cool shade of the mountain. A myriad of waterfalls sang in the atrium, falling into a pool surrounding the room’s central island. The island held one sweeping white staircase that led to the upper floor and five bridges that connected each of the different areas of his home. Rhys passed through his own rooms, out a heavy door, and down a flight of stairs, where he entered the large rotunda that served as a common area for the members of the vee.

  Strategically placed mirrors bounced sunlight all around, from a mosaic of the southern night sky on the ceiling to the black-and-white tiled floor. Now that the sun was setting, tiny fires were flickering to life in patterns along the wall. Ten wooden doors, each with its own landscape inlaid in lighter wood, led to ten apartments. At the moment, only two were occupied—Evan’s, with its depiction of a placid mountain lake, and Ffion’s, whose door showed a thunderstorm rolling over windswept plains.

  He looked at Cadoc’s door, carved with a forest of oak trees, and sighed. It was too sundering silent without him.

  Shaking his head, Rhys knocked on Ffion’s door. She didn’t answer, so he knocked again. On the third try, she finally appeared.

  “Bore da, Ffion.”

  She was pale and too thin, her belly barely a bump against her flowing clothing. Dark smudges bloomed under her eyes like bruises. For the millionth time, Rhys thanked the Ancients she hadn’t lost the baby, or she might have attempted to join Griffith in death.

  She wouldn’t have been the first.

  “Bore da, gwaladr.” Ffion stepped back, inviting him in with the motion instead of words.

  Rhys stepped inside. The apartment was dusty and silent. The walls, which Griffith had carved with earth magic, rippled and curled as if they had decided to be cloud instead of stone—a tribute to air, Ffion’s element. Wide windows opened the entire back wall to sky, sea, and the green shoulder of the mountain. But the light was distant, somehow.

  Ffion followed him into the sitting room. “Did you capture Kavar?”

  Rhys tried to smile, but it hurt too much. Ffion and Griffith’s home had been a haven of peace and sanity. Now it was a tomb, inhabited by a friend whose soul couldn’t decide whether to live or to die. “I did. Have you eaten today?”

  “Oh. Good.” She ignored his question about food.

  He waited for her to say more. When she didn’t speak for a full minute, Rhys took her by the shoulders and turned her around, walking her in front of him to the kitchen. “I’m going to make you lunch.”

  She didn’t resist and she didn’t respond. Unsettled by her silence as much as her frailty, Rhys sat her down at the table. The apartment’s main room, which held the living area, dining area and kitchen, was high-ceilinged. It had always felt airy, but grief made everything leaden.

  Rhys went to the cooling shelves, which served the same purpose as a human refrigerator, and frowned at the stacks of meats inside. One of the juveniles delivered fully prepared food to Ffion three times a day. From the looks of it, she hadn’t touched a thing in a week. “There’s lamb here. Beef. Pork. What would you like?”

  She shrugged, one hand sitting on the small swell of her stomach. A cool breeze circulated, and the pipes Griffith had hidden within his wall carvings whistled a breathy, haunting song.

  Rhys clenched his jaw against the burn behind his eyes. He could not be Griffith, just as he hadn’t been able to be Iain for Morwenna. But he would do everything he could to make sure Ffion knew she wasn’t alone.

  He retrieved some lamb and pulled a skillet from a hook on the wall, then set it on the stove and lit the fire beneath with a brief push of magic. “I think Kavar’s capture will do what we hoped. Half the dragons in Eryri turned out to see us bring him in.”

  They’d cheered, even. It gave him hope. If he could be a good enough king, they might love him enough to accept their Wingless queen.

  Ffion didn’t respond, so Rhys kept up a semi-constant stream of news. “The Council meeting was packed. Powell is still an idiot. He’s insisting we bring Ashem home, but I’ve gotten the rest of them to agree to hold off. For now.”

  Kai. He was closer to bringing her to Eryri, but Kavar’s capture wasn’t enough. Athena, one of the Wingless councilwomen, had gotten into an argument with Powell over Ashem. Too many of the dragons who should have seen the sense of her words had sided with the blustering Draig. Afterward, he’d heard mutters of “witless Wingless.” If he brought Kai here now, he’d lose them.

  He wished he didn’t have to care. That he could afford to lose support if it meant having her. But he couldn’t.

  “Bring her to Eryri, Rhys.”

  Rhys started and nicked his hand with the knife he was using to chop herbs. He swore, turned on the water over the basin set into the counter and stuck his bleeding finger under it. In seconds, the wound started to close. “I can’t.”

  Ffion studied her hands, small and slender-fingered. “You don’t know how much time you have. Don’t let it disappear.”

  He closed his mouth over whatever he’d been going to say and cooked the rest of the meal in silence, his thoughts trapped in a loop between Griffith and Kai. When the food was finished, he set it in front of Ffion and watched until she ate.

  Magic prickled the air. Rhys glanced around, then realized the tingling was coming from the communicator in his front pocket.

  It wasn’t time for Ashem to call.

  He pulled out the communicator and fit it over his ear. “Ashem?”

  “No, it’s me.”

  Relief crashed through him. “Seren. Ancients, where have you been? Did Cadoc find you?” Rhys pulled out another of Ffion’s high-backed chairs and sat.

  “Yes. He’s here. Rhys—”

  “Seren, of all the sundering times to go missing—”

  “I’ve had a vision. It’s Kai.”

  Everything stopped. “What did you see?”

  “Owain held a white raven. He...ripped out its heart. Cadoc told me that he calls Kai brânwen.”

  Rhys stood. Distantly, he heard Ffion call his name, but there was rushing in his ears. His vision narrowed to a tiny point of light. “Blood of the sundering Ancients. Seren, have
Cadoc bring you home. I have to go after Kai.”

  He pulled the communicator out of his ear before she could respond. Ffion swam into focus. The dullness in her eyes was gone, but her birdlike voice was tight with terror. “What is it? What’s happened now?”

  Rhys explained. Then he headed for the door. Sunder the Council and what they thought. If Kai died, everything would be lost. “You’re right. It’s time to bring Kai home.”

  Ffion grabbed his arm. She’d grown so thin, but she was still strong. “Not you. That’s not what I meant. Send Evan. Send the Invisible. We need a whole vee. Two whole vees. Four.”

  “No.” Rhys still hadn’t found the spy and he was sundering certain he didn’t trust the Council. Not when more than half of them were still listening to Powell and his human-killing schemes.

  He touched Ffion’s bright, braided hair. Even as panic ate his better sense, he knew Ashem would murder him if he went alone. “I’ll take Evan.”

  “You can’t just leave!” It was the most animated he’d seen her since Griffith’s death. Ffion wrung her hands. “I—I could go with you.”

  Rhys shook his head. “Na, annwyl. I’ll take Evan. If anyone asks, tell them I’ve taken him as a bodyguard and gone to the Sacred Isle to think. Tell Deryn once I’ve gone. You two take care of each other.”

  Ffion took a steadying breath, but though she visibly calmed, the spark of life didn’t disappear from her eyes. “All right.” She put her hands on either side of his face. “I know what it is to fear for your heartsworn. Be careful.”

  Rhys nodded. “Tell Deryn I said goodbye.”

  “I will.”

  Rhys left the apartment at a walk. Once he’d closed the door, he ran.

  Ancients, don’t let me be too late.

  Chapter Six

  Wading Through Flame

  Kai’s forearms shook, her fingers numb with strain.

  The article had come out a week ago. Juli had been right. Kai was not happy.

  Kai Monahan, the miraculous reappearing girl from Rifle, Colorado, sits across from me, refusing to meet my eyes. It becomes immediately apparent that she’s going to refuse to answer my questions, as well.

  Kai bared her teeth. Drop dead, Jacobsen Starnes Smith. The muscles in her back and legs burned. She clung to the rock face, but her body refused to obey.

  Claims that she and her friend Juliet King were lost and managed to find each other in the vast Colorado wilderness cannot be verified, but it is clear that something strange happened in the Rockies around that time.

  Her toe slipped. Her other leg gave out. She dangled from hands that had stopped gripping right an hour ago. She scrabbled at the rock with her feet, but couldn’t find purchase. Oh, hell.

  “Falling!” Kai gasped out. Air rushed by. Black strands of hair that had escaped her beanie whipped her face.

  The harness jerked her to a stop a few feet down. Kai grunted, teeth bared, and spun slowly in the air. The Quarry came back into focus. The echo of people yelling and laughing. The clink and jingle of climbing harnesses. The scent of chalk and sweat.

  Below, Juli pushed platinum hair behind her ears, watching Kai with worried eyes, like she was some kind of mother hen and Kai a suicidal chick.

  “Nice belay, Ashem.” Kai ignored Juli and her useless worry. The article was a week old, but Smith’s words had shaken Kai’s control over her emotions, which had already been crumbling from the strain of being without Rhys.

  Ashem nodded, golden eyes focused distractedly on the middle-distance. Kai recognized the faraway look as the one he wore when he used his magic to scan the minds of people around them. He held the other end of her rope, belaying for her as she’d tried to send a project she’d been working on for hours.

  “Are you done?” Juli frowned from a dozen feet below. “Your hands are bleeding.”

  “No.” Tingling heat blossomed in Kai’s palms. This was the fifth time Juli had asked. But Kai had only torn off part of a nail and cut the back of her hand...and maybe scraped the skin off her elbow...and bruised her shin. Still. That wasn’t nearly enough to make her quit. Not since becoming heartsworn—becoming Wingless.

  Even as she watched, the bleeding slowed to a trickle. Along with extended life and fire magic, her new not-quite-human status meant that her body healed insanely fast. And that meant she didn’t have to be done pushing herself if she didn’t want to. Not climbing meant thinking. Remembering. Feeling.

  Kai wasn’t ready to feel. Not yet.

  Smith had done her one favor, though. Being angry at him made it easier to shove away all her stupid angst over Rhys. She hadn’t soaked her pillow in helpless tears for three whole nights after she’d read it. She’d been too pissed off.

  Being angry was so much easier than being hurt.

  Juli folded her arms. “You need to come down.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re coming down. Now.” Juli gestured to Ashem, and he lowered Kai as steadily as a machine.

  Kai made a frustrated noise. “I said no.”

  Ashem blinked, his eyes coming into focus. He’d been distracted and extra-paranoid for days. Juli had been overly hovery, too. But when Kai asked what was going on, they pretended to have no idea what she meant. Like she was a child. Which, in a very childlike way, made her want to scream.

  At the snap in Kai’s voice, the noise in their corner of The Quarry died for a minute. A couple of nearby coworkers glanced in her direction before looking away quickly. The new girl, Gina, stared openly as she toyed with the black stone that dangled from her bracelet.

  Kai’s scowl deepened. Gina had a habit of squeezing guys’ biceps and squealing that made Kai want to cauterize her own eardrums. She pressed her hands against her thighs, willing the heat away and forcing her dangling body to relax. “Fine. Let me down.”

  Her feet touched the springy gym floor and she stood, unbuckling her harness. Ashem, freed of his belaying duties, undid his own harness, walked to the wall and pulled himself up. As an employee at the gym, Kai should have told him off for free climbing the top roping wall. But he was Ashem, and she was off the clock, so she pretended not to see.

  A gaggle of passing high school girls stopped to gawk at Ashem, all bronze skin and black hair curled with sweat from his earlier climbs. The muscles in his arms and back bunched and rippled beneath the fabric of his shirt as he moved up the wall. Juli leveled a cool stare at the girls and cleared her throat. As one, they seemed to realize they had somewhere else to be.

  Juli didn’t take her eyes from them as they walked away. “You might not want people to see you doing that, Ashem. It’s against the rules.”

  Ashem didn’t respond, but he must have turned on his “don’t look at me” Azhdahā mind magic, because Kai found herself looking to one side, her mind sliding around Ashem as if he weren’t there. As he had explained it, Kai’s eyes could see him, but her brain couldn’t perceive what she was seeing, rendering him effectively invisible. She blinked and shook her head. The effect made her dizzy, but she was getting used to it.

  “We need to go.” Juli glared up at Ashem—or what Kai assumed to be him. His barrier didn’t work on Juli because, now that they were heartsworn, she also had Azhdahā magic.

  “He’s been belaying for me forever. Let him climb once, then we’ll go.” Kai shook out her hands, sighing. She’d opened up a crack on her index finger again.

  She caught a glimpse of red hair across the room. Her heart jerked and her breath caught.

  Rhys.

  No, not Rhys. The guy was way too short and not...well, just not. Rhys might not be as pretty as Cadoc, but when he walked into a room, people noticed. The redhead who had just returned his climbing gear to the front desk was cute, but normal. No impending storm there.

  Suffocating disappointment
welled up inside her, so she turned back to the climbing wall. Either take down your shields or stop whining, Monahan. No one likes a whiner.

  She’d come so close to reaching for him when that article had come out. But even with the stress of her entire family being in town for the holidays and the stupid article, she still couldn’t bring herself to do it.

  Damn it. Maybe she wasn’t ready to leave—to think—after all.

  She rested her toe on a crimp and reached for a jug overhead. The wall stretched above her, a gray expanse speckled with colorful holds, like the false stone had multicolored chicken pox.

  Juli appeared at Kai’s side, arms folded, her mouth a thin, angry line. Her quiet voice sliced through the techno music playing from speakers hidden overhead. “I thought we were going. Clearly, someone is intent on being pigheaded today.”

  “Clearly, your face is intent on being pigheaded.” Kai let her hands fall to her sides. She knew she was being immature, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

  Juli arched one eyebrow. “Really? Isn’t that a little childish, even for you?”

  Her words echoed Kai’s earlier thoughts so perfectly that Kai’s anger flashed and the firestorm inside her flared. The acrid scent of smoke curled into Kai’s nostrils and she jerked her hands away from her legs. Black scorch marks marred her gray yoga pants. “Dang it, Juli! This was my last pair! If you want to go, leave. I’ll walk home.”

  Kai tugged down her sage-green shirt. Luckily, it was long enough to cover about three quarters of the scorch marks, but she’d have to buy new pants. Just like she’d had to fill her closet with long-sleeved shirts to cover the nasty scar on her right arm and the colorless, tattoo-like design of scales that curled like flames over the entire left side of her torso. Summer would be hell.

  Juli’s voice sharpened. “You will not walk home.”

  Kai mentally muted Juli, a skill she’d developed sometime around the fifth grade, and focused on the wall with its much-used, multicolored holds. She reached for the fat jug a couple of feet above her head, grasped it, and heaved. Her hand slipped. She smacked her face against the faux rock, scraping her forehead and banging her nose hard enough to make her eyes water.