by Cora Carmack
“See if you can manipulate it. Make it shorter, then taller.”
Nova took a deep breath and fixed her gaze on the eerily still flame. It did not flicker, nor swirl about in her hand. It stood as straight as a blade, still seamlessly flowing with the rest of her magic. Slowly, she did as Jinx asked, shortening the loop until the flame was as small as a fingernail, then pushing it back out even farther than she had loosed it before. She let it grow to the length of a dagger, and wondered if with enough practice she might craft a sword of fire for herself. If she could, that meant she would never be without a weapon, never be helpless again.
Jinx cupped Nova’s hands with her own, and she stared in wonder. The shock of the touch broke Nova’s concentration, the flame flickered wildly, then disappeared altogether, casting them back into sudden darkness.
“Scorch it all,” Jinx uttered. “Sorry. I distracted you.”
Nova was still thinking about the look on Jinx’s face the moment before the flame went out, the way shadows had played over her prominent jaw and cheekbones, both emphasizing her fierceness and softening it too. Novaya had never been one for creative endeavors. She had sought out the position on the seamstress’s staff because she was a fair hand with a needle and it was a step up from being a maid, but it was merely a means to an end. She had always been so busy worrying about how to survive that dreams were not something that often had time to take root and grow in her mind. But that one single memory of Jinx in the light of her flame made her suddenly think of being a painter, of trying a hundred different colors until she found the ones to make it exactly right. It did not seem fair that she was the only one who got to see such a sight. It was too beautiful not to want to share.
“Do you think I could shape a sword from fire?” Nova asked. “Or something smaller to start? A dagger?”
“Goddess, please do. I can imagine it already. You will be glorious.”
Nova’s stomach flopped in that way again—anticipation and anxiety rolled into one mess of confusing, overflowing emotions.
Jinx lay back onto the bed, kicking her feet up against the nearest wall, and they began chatting about the possibilities of different fire weapons, and what Nova might eventually learn to conjure.
Eventually, while Jinx was debating the merits of a fire whip and some weapon she once encountered that could be thrown and would return in the air to its master, not through magic, but design, Nova began to yawn.
She pulled her pillow closer, but did her best to prop herself up on her elbow, not wanting Jinx to stop talking; but the other witch noticed her fading. She leaned over Nova’s knees and pushed her shoulders into the pillows.
“Go to sleep if you are tired,” Jinx said. “I can imagine that bit of magic was enough to settle your mind.”
Nova did not know that it settled anything, but she was always calmer when Jinx was close by, even when she was nervous. Nova liked that about her. Once her shoulders hit the mattress though, there was no pulling them up again. Jinx was still leaning on her knees, and the earth witch reached out, pushing a long strand of black hair off Nova’s face that Nova had been too tired to address herself.
Her heart clenched, the heavy beats plunking like unsuccessful skipping stones into a pond.
“My mother would have loved to meet you,” Jinx said. “She was a witch too, and she … she would be proud, I think, to see what we are doing.”
“Even though we are locked away?”
The weight lifted from Nova’s knees, and she heard the tiny bed creak as Jinx sprawled herself out over the other end.
“Better than what happened to her.”
For the first time, Nova heard bleakness in the other witch’s normally indefatigable tone. She sat quiet for a moment, too cowardly and unsure of whether Jinx wanted her to ask.
Finally, she said, “Do you want to talk about it?”
Nova stretched her hand out over the bed, reaching until she found what might have been the other girl’s knee. Then Jinx’s hand was there too, curling around her own, fingers squeezing tight.
“Not tonight. I think we have had enough thinking for now.”
Jinx released her fingers, but held onto her hand, turning it over the same way she had when they had been working before. With Nova’s hand on top, and Jinx’s cupped underneath, the other witch asked, “Do you think you can do the fire? Just one more time?”
Nova did not ask why. She simply lengthened the loop of her magic in that one hand until a tiny pearl of fire appeared in the center of her palm. When it did, she found Jinx’s eyes not on the flame, but on her own. The two looked at each other, both curled awkwardly on their sides in the bed so that their bodies fit and claimed diagonal territories, leaving a narrow border in between.
“Is this okay?” Jinx asked after a long silence.
Nova swallowed, and nodded, the flame growing just a bit brighter without her trying to do so. The other witch searched her face, and Nova never looked away, not even when nerves roiled in her stomach like storm-tossed waves.
“Well, then.” Jinx smiled, letting her hand fall away from the one place they touched. “Good night, my fire witch.”
Nova let the flame go out, and settled down against her pillow, feeling far less tired all of a sudden.
“Good night, Jinx.”
Then she did her best to sleep, but it took a long time for her heart to slow to a normal beat.
* * *
They met in a part of town with which Aurora was unfamiliar, but Kiran knew the way. It was on the outer edges of the city, where homes were scarce and industrial warehouses clogged the streets. They were near the docks, where Pavan’s limited shipping industry on the Napatya River was based. The Napatya was the city’s main source of water, but also provided an avenue for trade for those merchants who were willing to make the journey.
Zephyr had connections in this area too, it seemed. Though in the dead of night, the small port was empty, and the buildings were dark and devoid of life. The night had gone unexpectedly cold, and sleet had begun to fall, stinging at Aurora’s cheeks. She pulled the collared neck of her vest up high, blocking the worst of it, and continued after Kiran.
She could feel the Stormlord out there, toiling away at something; dark souls skulked around the city, lingering in the fields and the small rolling hills, and up in the gathering clouds of the inky-black sky, brushing by the city walls. She did not know what the Stormlord had planned, but she could feel him out there as surely as she could feel the souls he corralled.
When they reached the edge of a dock, Zephyr and Raquim were waiting for them, but no one else was present. The port sat at a bend in the river, where it dipped briefly inside the city limits, but then turned again and continued out into the wilds. The city walls continued on the land surrounding the river with bridges built over each section of water. The bridges were lit with a long line of fire torches, but they were far enough from the dock that Aurora could not see details, only the general shapes of the bridges and the shadow of a guard post on top of each. Aurora slowed to a stop in front of Zephyr, wondering how the woman planned to get them past the guard points. Were the soldiers on duty spies of hers too? Like Taven?
“This won’t be pleasant,” Zephyr said, interrupting her thoughts. “Especially not with the dropping temperatures.”
Aurora frowned. “I am not as spoiled as you think me. I lived in the wilds without basic comforts for quite a time. You underestimate me.”
“I don’t speak of your temporary exile, Princess. I mean your mode of travel.”
“And what exactly is that?” Kiran cut in.
Zephyr gestured to the bridge Aurora had seen before. “There’s a guard on duty watching for boats, so the obvious choices are not available. But luckily, I offer a choice that is far from obvious. We have never been caught on one of our shipments,” she said, nodding to Raquim beside her.
“Then what is it?” Aurora asked.
Zephyr paused, and in the stretched
silence, it became harder for Aurora to ignore the bone-deep cold.
“You will be going underwater.”
Aurora looked at the distance to the bridge again, then looked about for some kind of transportation, perhaps a waterborne version of the Rock. She had learned to expect the unexpected, after all. “Just the two of you,” Zephyr added. “I’ll create a bubble of air so you do not drown, and I will use my magic to propel you through the water until you are out of the guard’s sight. From there though, you will be on your own. You will be wet, cold, and alone. Think you can handle that, Princess?”
“She can handle it,” Kiran answered on her behalf.
Aurora fought not to shudder at the thought of how cold that water must be, hoping she looked as confident as Kiran sounded.
“Do you have everything you need?” Zephyr asked.
Kiran lifted a satchel that sat against his hip.
“I suppose I do not need to tell you to be careful?” Zephyr asked.
“Seems like you are doing it anyway,” Kiran replied.
Aurora sighed and stepped forward. “We will. How do we get in touch with you if we need to?”
“Etel visits the camps on my behalf every other day to give out food and other necessities. Go find her if you need me.”
Aurora remembered the little old woman who had tried to sell her questionable wares at the Eye on her first visit. She had not realized Zephyr had her working for the rebellion as well. After a few more instructions, there was nothing left but the how of things. At Zephyr’s bidding, they sat on the edge of the rickety dock, and she arranged them how she wanted them—the satchel with the supplies pressed between their chests, and Aurora and Kiran facing each other as much as they could while sitting, their arms wrapped tight around each other.
Aurora could feel the heat of Kiran’s breath on her temple, and her own face was near to his jaw, where the woodsy, male scent of him seemed to be the strongest.
“The shock of the water will be cold,” Zephyr warned. “But do not panic. Breathe normally. As I promised, I will keep the water from entering the bubble of air you need to last you until you pass the bridge. The most important thing is that you do not let go of each other. I cannot split my concentration between the both of you.”
Kiran nodded firmly, the bristle on his jaw scraping against her cheek in a way she had not felt in so long. Aurora tried to nod too, but the movement got lost in the hollow of his throat.
Then Zephyr was asking if they were ready, and there were hands on their shoulders, and Aurora was sucking in a breath, bracing for the cold. The next thing she knew, they were falling, Kiran’s arms squeezing tighter as they descended.
The first splash was brutal—slicing through clothes and skin and bone down to her very marrow. The cold pierced like a thousand needles, making her limbs ache with pain and feel numb all at the same time. Despite Zephyr’s warning, panic overtook her, and she scrambled, her fingers clutching at whatever they could find, legs kicking, trying to find which way was up and which way was down. Then strong fingers found her jaw, pulling her face down until her forehead pressed against something warm. She opened her eyes, expecting to be bombarded with water, no matter what reason told her, but the floods never came. Instead, she found the deep brown irises of her hunter, staring back at her, urging calm in the only way he could. He pressed his face closer, his nose sliding down beside hers until they were so close that her lips touched his on the next exhale.
She watched him, breathing in and out, vaguely aware that they were moving in a way that was entirely unnatural. Neither of them was swimming nor kicking their legs to stay afloat, and with the weight of their clothes and supplies they should have been sinking down to the riverbed. Instead, she felt a gentle pressure beneath her, gliding them along some unknown current. She was not sure how long it went on, only that she lost herself looking at Kiran, because she could, and because what else was she to do?
He looked tired, though she guessed the same was true for her. Circles hung like dark half-moons beneath his eyes, and she wondered how long it had been since he had had a solid night’s sleep. The growth of hair along his jaw was the longest she had ever seen it—a true beard rather than the messy unshaven stubble to which she was accustomed. She took a risk, letting one of her hands slide up his back, over his shoulder, and to the back of his neck. His eyelids fluttered under the caress, but when her thumb found the corner of his jaw, between the lobe of his ear and the greater part of his beard, his gaze fixed on her with a sudden intensity.
She did not speak, though Zephyr had not said whether it was possible with the magic she worked. In truth, Aurora decided the silence had its own kind of magic.
His hand was still at her jaw, though his grip had relaxed to a barely-there touch. He kept it that way as his fingers traced down the underside of her chin and the hollow of her throat. When he could go no lower than that, he returned his hand to her cheek, canting her jaw up so that her mouth sat below his, like an offering. She followed his lead, letting her fingers trail through the beard he’d grown, trying to decide what she thought of it. He looked … older. More rugged, not that he needed much help there. His eyes had always been fairly guarded, but they were even more so now.
She had done that to him. With her lies and secrets. She wondered if there was a way to undo that hurt, or if she was being selfish by following this pull again. Her fingers kept exploring, until they found the place where his facial hair gave way to the smooth skin just below his lip. She touched there, once, and when he did not object, she let her finger wander higher, to the full bottom lip above. There was a tiny scar she had never noticed just above his top lip. She wondered how long it had been there, and how she had not seen it before. She met his gaze, wondering if she was brave enough to kiss it, and she found nothing but encouragement in the dark pupils that had taken over the rest of his eyes.
Slowly, Aurora trailed her finger along the curve of his upper lip, then let her hand fall to his chest to rest over his heart. She drifted closer, bringing her mouth in line with his. A simple lift of her chin was all it would take to bring their lips together, but she did not want to make that choice for him.
He had been the one to walk away. And she knew he had his reasons. She had made mistakes, and no matter how intensely she felt, she could not make him want the same things as her. She had not given him the choice the first time on whether he wanted to be involved with a princess. This time, he would know exactly what he was getting.
His knuckles brushed over her cheek, gentler than she would have thought possible. She searched his eyes, desperate to know what he was thinking. She saw no answers there, only a depth of feeling that made everything inside her spontaneously loop itself into knots.
Then he kissed her, and she began to unravel.
It was a slow, glorious exploration of a kiss; she felt the tension inside her loosen in small measures, advancing, only to tighten again when his tongue brushed hers in a way that felt new and exciting. By the time he pulled away, she felt like they had been reintroduced. And every knot inside her had been untied.
She looked at him shyly, and Kiran stared back as fierce and proud as he had always been. She wanted to kiss him again, do a little more reintroducing of her own, but before she got her chance, the bubble around them burst and water came rushing in from all sides.
She sucked in a breath, and got nothing but freezing cold blades across her tongue and down her throat. She slammed her eyes shut against the burn of the water, and chaos overtook them. She was jerked sideways and up and down—or maybe none of those directions were right. She could not be sure. Distantly, she was aware of a weight holding on to the back of her clothing, but all her limbs were free and flailing, searching for the surface, which was nowhere to be found. She turned around and around in a current that was rough and wild, nothing like the gentle pulse they had been traveling on before.
Finally, her head broke free from the rapids, and she came up coughing
and gasping, her hair covering her face and eyes, which mattered little for there was naught but darkness where they were.
Something hard collided with her back, and that’s when she realized the thing clinging to her clothes was Kiran’s hand. As soon as his head pierced the surface, he wrapped a strong arm around her, pushing her higher out of the water at his own expense.
But it was a useless gesture. The two of them were moving fast down the river, toppling through rapids, nowhere near finding purchase enough to get free. Aurora yanked at her vest, pulling haphazardly until enough of her chest was bared that the glow of her skyfire gave them some light in the night.
They were in the middle of a fast-moving, rocky river that did not appear to ease up farther down the line. Together, Aurora and Kiran swam toward the nearest bank, fighting against a current that wanted to sweep them this way and that. More than once, Aurora felt her limbs smack into something unseen beneath the water—trees or shrubs or something else she could not identify.
She had no idea how long it took them to get out, only that it felt like it would never end. When they finally reached water shallow enough for their feet to touch bottom, they grabbed hold of each other for strength, and charged out of the water with as much speed as they could manage. Then they collapsed on the shore, exhausted and soaked and trembling. Aurora coughed up water she had inhaled and pressed her cheek to wet soil that felt warm by comparison.
Kiran was the first to drag himself to his knees. The tunic he wore clung to his chest like it was part of him, and the jacket he wore over that was logged with water too. He still had the satchel, thank the skies. She had completely forgotten it in the madness of the current. He did a quick check, and he did not mention any issues, so she assumed they’d made it with everything intact.
Then he looked at her and his mouth lifted in a halfhearted grin. “Enough adventure for you yet, Princess?”