Cold Flame

by Susan Copperfield

  I offered the pen to Ethan’s mother, and she wasted no time adding her signature to the page. Without a word, Ethan’s father also signed. That left His Royal Majesty of Montana, who shook his head, gave the pen a thorough clicking, and added his signature to the sheet.

  Huh. I had a husband.

  The world was truly a crazy place.

  “I’ll save the congratulations for a better day,” Montana’s king announced, taking the page and adding it to his briefcase. “I’ll have official copies made and issued to all the appropriate parties. You may choose to announce the marriage however you see fit, but honestly? I’d go the route of stealth for however long you can. I doubt it’ll last to the end of the day, but I’ve been wrong before.”

  I wanted him to be wrong, if only so I could look my parents in the eyes and demand answers for a lifetime of misery and sorrow. My sister’s suicide I could grudgingly understand.

  Unlike my parents, Sylvia had lost everything, even her magic.

  Neither one of us made good New Yorkers, although for entirely different reasons.

  “Why?” I asked, wondering if anyone would be able to make sense of the hundred different questions lurking within one painful word.

  His Royal Majesty of Montana offered a smile, one so burdened with sadness I wondered how his eyes remained clear and devoid of tears. “I don’t know if anyone knows. I don’t want to understand what would make a parent do what yours did to you, your brothers, and your sisters. I love my children more than life itself. No matter how many times I try to understand, I simply can’t. My children aren’t commodities to be sold to the highest bidder.”

  “But you betrothed your daughter, didn’t you?”

  Shaking his head, Montana’s king closed and locked his briefcase. “Yes and no. Did I sign paperwork betrothing her? Certainly. But it was done for her sake and her sake alone. If I hadn’t signed the paperwork, my Mireya would’ve turned Texas upside down winning her Adam. I spared Texas from war waged by a tenacious and disgustingly intelligent child. Really, I think you’ll like her. At the very least, you’ll be able to have a good conversation with her. I’m, in her esteemed opinion, a wonderfully stupid father.”

  “Do you think she can ace California’s refugee exam?”

  “Like it or not, I’ll surely find out the instant my daughter hears you did. But then again, it’d do her some good to have solid competition for a change. I love her dearly, but she’s really too damned smart for anyone’s good. Oh, well. It could be worse.”

  “How so?”

  “She could be smart and egotistical, but no matter how many times I tell her it’s all right to take pride in her intellect, she remains painfully humble.”

  I saw no problems with that. “She sounds like a wonderful person.”

  “She is. You are, too. I wish I could tell you things would work out, but I can’t. I don’t believe they will.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t just hear lies, Rachel. I hear the truth, too. When they said their goodbyes to me this morning, they meant it. Of that I have no doubt. I’m sorry.”

  I wondered if the wind would be reluctant to claim my parents when the flames finally died away. Would my mother’s talent reduce their bodies to ash, or would their bone and teeth remain as grisly proof of their death?

  As always, I was left with more questions than answers.

  Seventeen

  But I wanted to take over a kingdom.

  News traveled faster than the wildfires eating away at the Californian wilderness. Within ten minutes of signing the papers marrying me to Ethan, an RPS agent came into the congress session, approached His Royal Majesty of Montana, and whispered something that made both men stare directly at me.

  I could make a guess or two, but the likeliest possibility would put a crown on my head by sunset. “Did they at least put the damned fire out first?”

  Montana’s king shook his head. “They were able to extinguish a small portion of it, but not enough. In less than an hour, it’s expected the wildfire will reach the first major town.”

  I turned to His and Her Royal Majesties of California. “How long to get me on a helicopter and to the area?”

  “Thirty minutes.”

  Thirty minutes would be pushing our luck—and mine. “Get me in the air. I can’t put out a fire that big directly, and I won’t even try, but I can stop it from progressing if I can get in front of it.”

  “How dangerous is this for you?”

  “Negligible until Dr. Stanton gets a hold of me for showing off. Talent exertion is likely, but it shouldn’t be lethal. Unlike them, I know what I’m doing on large-scale fires.”

  If my talent burned out, I’d be doing the world a favor, anyway.

  Ethan growled something under his breath but otherwise kept his complaints to himself.

  “Get the fastest helicopter we have here,” Ethan’s father ordered. “Ethan, you’re to stay at the palace. It’s standard protocol to separate monarchs during a state of emergency, and you’ll be better protected there.”

  “Go take care of my rats and our kittens, Ethan. I’ll be fine with Amisha and Endah. We’ll find out just how much English they understand, too. It’s probable animals fleeing the wildfire will need to be routed to safety.” I gave both tigers a scratching behind their ears. “Time for us to earn our supper, ladies.”

  “You don’t have to earn your supper,” Ethan grumbled. “Neither do they. Supper is guaranteed.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Please take this man home with you, Your Majesties. I have work to do, and I’m not getting into an argument over why it’s important I work.”

  “Work gives her purpose, Ethan. Just tell her you love her and that she should be careful,” His Royal Majesty of Montana suggested.

  “I do love her, and she better be careful!”

  “I didn’t mean for you tell her like that.”

  “I have to ease her into this sort of thing, Your Majesty. If I try to open with that right now, she won’t know how to deal with it, and then she’ll need some recovery time with the tigers or her rats, and right now, there are bigger issues that need to be attended to. Rachel, I’ll deal with notifying New York and make it clear if anyone attempts to claim a bounty right now, they will be charged to the fullest extent of Californian law, and I’ll make sure my parents back that. Then I’ll start my hostile takeover of your kingdom.”

  “You don’t get to start a hostile takeover of any kingdom. All I have to do to takeover New York is show up.”

  “But I wanted to take over a kingdom.”

  I understood what he was trying to do. Levity in the face of disaster sometimes helped. Later, it might, once it really hit me my parents had tried to do the impossible and paid the price for it, all to escape the shame of losing their kingdom to the daughter they had never wanted in the first place.

  “You can. Tell Ian you’re taking over his job, and that he can get his ass to California to figure out which bits of ash happen to be our parents. Frankly, he can take ashes from a fireplace if he’d like, but for some damned reason, people in the Royal States want something done with the bodies.”

  “I am detecting a certain amount of resentment from my wife.”

  “I haven’t even gotten started yet. And Ethan?”

  “Yes?”

  “He better be ready to grovel when he shows up.”

  Ethan grinned. “I think I can handle that. But being serious, please be careful.”

  “I have no interest in dying today.”

  “I’d tell you everything will be all right, but really, this is a mess, it’s not going to be all right for a while, and I refuse to lie to you about it. It’ll get better eventually.”

  The eventually part worried me, but there wasn’t much I could do about it. “Well, there’s some good news.”

  “What?”

  “Once I get there, it won’t take me long to work.”

  “Just please be careful. We’ve gott
en this far, and I don’t want to lose you now.”

  It took seeing to believe, and from the air, a massive smoke column from the fire dominated the sky. It wouldn’t be long until the smoke reached San Francisco, and when it did, it would devour the city in a yellow-gray haze. Even inside the helicopter, with the tigers crowding my legs so they’d fit, the stench permeated everything.

  “Your Majesty, we will have to land several miles from the burn site; the smoke is too thick for the engines, and as it is, it’s unlikely we’ll be able to take off again due to clogged filters.”

  I twitched at the pilot’s form of address. “Take us as close as you safely can, and if you can keep the helicopter in the air, move it somewhere safer. I am perfectly capable of hopping out without losing my head to a blade. It’s better if you’re not with me, anyway. I’ll have enough on my hands making a buffer zone so the fire doesn’t get any closer to the town and keeping my tigers safe.”

  “Understood, Your Majesty. Our ETA is five minutes.”

  I spent the minutes cursing my parents, cursing everything leading up to their pointless deaths, and debating how best to deal with the wildfire burning beyond human control.

  If I took my time, if I focused on small sections one at a time, I could put the damned thing out. I could cool the outer perimeters so the flames ceased spreading, and then I could suffocate the entire thing.

  Suffocating a fire took a lot less work than using my talent in the traditional way. My parents had likely immolated attempting to force so much flame to do their bidding.

  I handled burning skyscrapers in one of two ways. I snuffed out contained fires or I smothered and suffocated the ones engulfing the entire structure. It didn’t take much to block off the flow of air.

  I didn’t even need to land to do it.

  “Can you hover here without risk of crashing and turn the helicopter so I have a better view?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” Moments later, the pilot positioned the helicopter as directed.

  As far as I could see, smoke and fire reigned. The barrier I needed to create would be thinner than a hair yet substantial enough to prevent the greedy, hungering flames from being able to burn. It would take five minutes, during which I’d have to concentrate without interruption.

  It would hurt like a bitch, and my skin would burn as my magic manifested. I would, for a time, be one with the fire I suffocated.

  I needed to figure out how to use that part of my magic without it lighting every nerve aflame.

  “I’m going to need five minutes, and I’d like you to keep the radio quiet. Hold the helicopter as steady as you can. When I’m finished, I’m going to be bitchier than hell, rocking mild burns, and ready to drink down an entire distillery. I’m completely intolerant to alcohol, so don’t let me do that. It’d be ugly. Water is better for me after this, anyway. Once I’m finished, land the helicopter near the town, as I’ll have to deal with embers and scattered fires on the ground.”

  “Understood, Your Majesty.”

  With no good excuse to chicken out, I stared over the smoking ruins of the landscape below, and I closed my eyes so I could feel the roiling flames beneath me. My parents would’ve tried to force the entire wildfire to obey, resulting in the fires consuming them from the inside out.

  I found bitter comfort they wouldn’t have felt a thing once they committed to the impossible; our talent wasted no time when it consumed its host.

  Instead of trying to force the wildfire below to my will, I cut it off, denying it and forming a barrier between it and me, one so complete not even an ember could pass the point I decided was close enough.

  It reminded me of when I, as a child, had gently cupped my hand around a firefly to catch it, its light spilling through my fingers until I’d fully enclosed it. I’d been careful then not to hurt the innocent bug, carrying it to the jar I’d pilfered from the kitchen so I could admire the ones I caught for a little while before releasing them.

  My RPS agents hadn’t approved, but they hadn’t stopped me, either.

  I was grateful for their lack of care. It gave me the insight needed to capture the flames without following in my parents’ footsteps.

  It was much easier to prevent air from entering an area than it was to control miles upon miles upon miles of burning land.

  With luck, I might avoid the burns, although I couldn’t tell how far the fires stretched, requiring me to guess. If my shield touched the flames, I would pay the price in pain. I’d had enough pain for several lifetimes, so I hoped as far as I could see smoke would be far enough.

  I stretched my magic over the smoke, thinner than a sheet of paper but allowing no air to pass through it, and extended it to the ground beneath the helicopter, creating a dome over the flames. I closed my eyes, bit my lip, and spread it out, lowering it until the wildfire’s heat taunted my senses. My skin ached, tight as though sunburned, and I reached farther until the air beneath my dome cooled, evidence I’d found the far edge.

  The moment I cut off the oxygen, tension cramped my muscles. The fire wanted to grow and live, but I denied it, ignoring its seductive call.

  The flames had taken enough from me already.

  Seconds dragged into minutes, and the instant the wildfire died, I relaxed, my talent no longer urging me to breathe life into the destruction.

  I released my shield and braced for the wildfire to revive as air flooded the area.

  Nothing happened, and I cracked open an eye. The smoke, while still thick, began to thin without the wildfire spewing out more. As expected, I hurt, but if I’d been burned, I couldn’t tell from the back of my hands.

  It would do.

  “You can land now,” I said, and I cringed at the hoarseness of my voice.

  “Roger, Your Majesty,” the pilot replied before lowering the helicopter.

  Once upon a time, I had dreamed of being the queen, an impossibility in New York, as I’d been told from birth only a man could qualify for the esteemed role of primary monarch.

  Life had a funny way of turning dreams into nightmares. I stared out over the devastation and wondered if anyone would find my parents’ bodies—or if anyone would care enough to look.

  Another possibility existed, one that birthed chills.

  What if they hadn’t died at all, but like me, had chosen to disappear in the hopes of never being seen again?

  They would, the bastards.

  The pilot landed the helicopter on a blackened highway not far from the edge of the burn zone. As soon as he touched down, I unbuckled and removed my helmet. Someone opened the door, and I hopped out, careful to keep my head low.

  The tigers followed me, and they both growled at the stench of smoke hanging in the air.

  “I know. It stinks.” I doubted they heard me over the helicopter, but I took the time to stroke them both before heading to a cluster of firefighters gaping at the smoking ground.

  I admired anyone who battled such flames without the benefit of magic, and I could make a few guesses at reason for their flummoxed expressions.

  Fires didn’t just put themselves out without a fight, not normally.

  With the majority of the fire out, I could handle the smaller conflagrations with the flameweaver magic most expected from me. It took more concentration than I liked, but while some embers lingered, none had grown into hungering beasts seeking more fuel. I snuffed out the few smoldering patches nearby.

  “You’ll want to bulldoze a perimeter between the burn zone and any residential areas nearby.” I pointed at charred landscape. “The wildfire is out for now, but there’s no guarantees it won’t start again unless you get some competent waveweavers in to get some water coverage over the zone. You’ll also want to send in crews to make sure there aren’t any injured people or animals in the area.”

  I assumed most within the zone had suffocated along with the flames, but survival was potentially possible if they’d been in protected pockets, safe from the flames.

  Those sa
me pockets could restart the fire, and there was nothing I could do about it. Despite having conserved my strength pulling off my stunt, I doubted I could repeat it.

  The firemen stared at me as though I’d grown a second head, and I sighed. I wondered what had bothered them more: me or my tigers.

  “It might not stay out.” I pointed at the bulldozer and snapped my fingers. “Do not make me flash flame this area. If I have to create a buffer zone with my talent, my doctor is going to insert her foot up my ass, and it will require surgical extraction. I would be very upset over this.”

  Amisha sat on my foot and leaned against my legs. She yawned, displayed her teeth, and then she huffed.

  The display of her long fangs did the trick, and the rescue personnel scattered.

  The pilot, after killing the helicopter’s engine, joined me and my tigers. “Perhaps that was a little harsh, Your Majesty?”

  “It was true, though. Dr. Stanton would most definitely insert her foot into my ass. She doesn’t seem like the kind to accept bullshit from uppity members of royalty. I don’t want to have her foot surgically removed from my ass.”

  “I don’t think she would do that. For safety reasons, we’ll have to take ground transportation back to San Francisco. While the helicopter can probably fly, I flew through more smoke than I like, and there’s a lot of ash in the air. It could clog the filters.”

  I translated clogged filters to mean crash, and I nodded. “You’re the pilot. I’m just the asshole who gets bitchy when people don’t listen the first time.”

  “You are hardly an asshole, Your Majesty.”

  “I’m a New Yorker. By default, I am an asshole.”

  “But you’re a Californian through marriage. That makes a difference.”

  I regarded the pilot with a frown. “You know about that? Already?”

  The man grinned at me. “His Royal Majesty of Montana is my cousin, and we have our share of wildfires at home, so they wanted a pilot with experience. I borrowed the helicopter from California. But honestly? Everyone is going to know in less than an hour anyway, so try not to worry about it much.”