~Chapter Eighteen~
Though I had fun with my group – it was almost impossible not to - on my own I fell into a bit of a slump. I’d taken to staring at my homework for hours on end, not seeing it, not caring at all about it. I just wanted this week to be over, so that I could tell Dustin that it was well and truly over, then both of us could start healing and my food would regain a bit of taste, the world a bit of colour. I just wasn’t used to this emotional turmoil; it was something I saw on television, something I saw the other girls at my school exhibit. It was something I’d never experienced myself and I felt lucky I hadn’t.
I was stuck in a bit of rut until Jett held us back at the end of Fitness.
“In just a few days you will all be embarking on a three day camp, completely self-reliant. You will plan for yourself what you need, and take what you need with you.”
I nodded, thinking it would be a good chance to get away from all of this misery and awkward encounters with Dustin in the halls.
“You will be accompanied by your soul mates on this camp.”
I looked up, my emotions raging. Part of me was apprehensive, the other was utter disbelief; I couldn’t see that this trip would turn out anything good. Phoenix hadn’t even made eye contact with me since the stables, much less offered an explanation for his strange behaviour.
The day of the camp arrived, and Phoenix and I collected the equipment and rations we would need and set out. In the classes leading up to it, we’d spent time pouring over maps, and plotting our course through the forest, although this had taken place in silence. I had just finished telling Morri to watch my room while I was gone when Phoenix approached me.
“Ready?” He asked me.
I nodded slowly, the bird alighting from my arm and beginning to fly towards my open bedroom window.
Eleanora ran up to him and I turned my back as they ‘said’ goodbye. Dustin waved at me a little sadly. I just smiled back, though the smile didn’t feel natural.
We set out along the trail, the noises of our classmates fading behind us. We walked all day in silence, stopping only to have a snack and a drink, checking the map to make sure we were on course. The further we got from the Academy, the happier I was. It was as though a weight was being lifted from my shoulders with every step. The birds sang to me and the wind wound lazily around the trunks of the trees.
The trail we were following, little more than a deer track someone had taken the time to plot on our map, began to ascend. I pushed my legs up the slope, revelling in the slow burn of my muscles. The air grew colder as we went higher, and as the sun began to slip behind the mountain peaks, it grew frigid.
“Remind me why we chose this course?” I asked, hoping to start up a conversation, but he didn’t reply.
We trudged in silence until it began to grow dark. According to my copy of the map, this is where we’d planned to stay a night, though I don’t think either of us realised how cold it would be.
“Phoenix.” I called, and pointed to my map.
He nodded and set down his pack in the middle of a clearing just off of the rapidly thinning deer trail. We quickly set up, and for some reason I was dismayed to see that we only had one large tent.
“Why didn’t we bring two tents?” I asked, trying to act casual.
He looked up.
“Because it was easier to carry one,” he replied. “Don’t worry; I don’t snore.”
I set a fire and lit it with a touch of magic. Pulling out one of the pots I’d nabbed from the storage shed (Phoenix had sent me in because I was small; I could dart around everyone else and get the best stuff), I set some water to boil and then dunked in two of our dehydrated ration packs. I stirred the water as the cakes of dehydrated food began to separate, and soon it was bubbling away over the fire, the smell lending a somewhat homey feel to the clearing.
It wasn’t so bad, I thought to myself, this camping thing.
I was sitting close to the fire to keep an eye on the food. Phoenix had gone off in search of more firewood so that we’d be able to bank the fire overnight. I was hunched in front of our fire, balancing on the balls of my feet so I didn’t sit in the damp leaves that covered the clearing. Though the trees were thin, it was impossible to see a few metres into them; there were just too many. My mind had just started throwing up all these images of what creatures could be watching me right now when Phoenix stomped back through them, with an armful of dry wood. He saw me perched awkwardly on my feet and dumped the wood next to me.
“Wait here,” was all he said, and then disappeared back into the woods. He returned a few minutes later carrying two large rocks that looked far too heavy for one person to lift. I jumped up and took one from him, pulling it off the top of the other one so he couldn’t stop me.
“What do I do with this?” I asked, holding the rock in both arms.
For an answer, he dropped the rock he was still carrying next to the fire, and sat down on it. I copied him, groaning as I stretched my sore feet out next to the fire. I glanced inside the pot and then scooped some out, burning my tongue as I tried to eat it immediately. I then had to hand the spoon to Phoenix because I couldn’t tell if it was indeed ready or not.
He said it was. I pulled out two tin bowls and began to ladle the hot casserole into them, passing one to Phoenix. We ate in silence, and with full bellies, stretched out next to the fire on the ground that had dried from the heat, looking at the stars over-head.
I remembered laying on the beach with Dustin, asking him about the constellations. My stomach twisted, and I forced myself to stop thinking about it.
I think I dozed off a little, worn out after a day of walking. I woke up when Phoenix began digging through the coals of our low burning fire, building it up to a steady flame.
“What are you doing?” I asked, sitting up, pulling leaves out of my hair as I spotted them.
“Making an after dinner food,” he replied, pulling his pack up next to him.
I watched him pull out a range of ingredients that he would have had to have begged Chef for. Instead of measuring anything out like I would’ve back home if I was cooking something, he just tossed it into his casserole bowl. He began to mix it all together, and I realised it was some sort of dough.
Next in this bizarre cooking method was to find a stick. It had to be the perfect stick, not any of the twigs I was handing him helpfully. He eventually found two that he deemed good enough. As I watched in disbelief, he began lathering the dough onto the stick, until it became some kind of strange hotdog looking thing. He handed one lathered stick to me.
“Hold it over the fire, and make sure it cooks evenly,” he said, demonstrating.
I did as he said, watching the dough begin to cook, going golden and crispy. I pulled mine out of the flames when he did.
“Let it cool,” he instructed. “Then pull it off the stick.”
I did, not waiting as long as I should’ve, bouncing the roll around in my hands. Eventually it cooled down long enough to hold, and Phoenix passed me a little jar and a knife.
“Now put jam in it and eat it.”
I scooped some strawberry jam out of the jar and stuffed it into the hole left by the stick. I passed him the jam jar so he could do the same, and then began to eat it.
It was heavenly. It reminded me of damper from back home, or hot scones with cream and jam. It crunched as I bit into it, and I had to chew a few bits for a little while, but I finished it too soon. To my dismay, Phoenix rolled up the rest of the dough.
“For tomorrow night,” he said, following my disappointed look to his pack.
We climbed inside the tent as it began to grow colder outside. I almost balked when I saw that we only had one double sleeping mat too. Wrestling with the instinct to run, fast, I set up my bedroll and climbed inside, grateful that I dec
ided to bring it. As I dropped off to sleep, part of me wondered why I was reacting this way. Surely it wouldn’t be that bad to cuddle up to him when it was so cold…
My eyes flew open, my heart pounding. Phoenix was sleeping peacefully, facing away from me. I eventually calmed down and lay back down to sleep. And I would not, I decided, ask myself that question again.
The next morning began with Phoenix gently shaking me awake. He was already dressed and ready to go. He shoved a cold pasty into my hands and pushed me out of the tent so he could begin pulling it down. I watched, still half asleep, as he packed up our tent.
“I gave you that pasty to eat.” He reminded me, stuffing poles into a bag.
I looked at my hands, half surprised to see the pasty. I took a cautious nibble and then wolfed it down. We set out along the trail again, the early morning fog swirling through the trees and our legs, watching Phoenix walk in front of me in silence. I knew something was bothering him, but I didn’t dare ask what. It had now been months since he and Eleanora got together. Months of heart ache for me.
I stopped suddenly. Heart ache? No, that wasn’t right. My heart began to beat frantically.
Somehow I’d always known.
Known that it would come to this, ever since I saw him in the Entrance Hall.
I felt tears brimming on my lower eyelids and blinked furiously. I didn’t want it to be true, but I knew it was.
I hid my emotions from him and continued the walk, trying to fill my thoughts with Dustin and all of the times we’d spent together. I gave up after a few minutes though; the pleasant tingle that normally accompanied those thoughts was gone, and my heart sank like a stone.
We marched another day in silence, the track levelling out beneath our feet as we reached a higher elevation, and I was grateful that we didn’t talk. We set up our tent together at the next camping spot.
“Will you grab that rope?” He asked.
I did so, just as he went to stop it flapping away. Our hands brushed together and we looked at each other. I looked away, blushing furiously. There was a swooping sensation in my stomach.
“You can tie it to the peg now,” he murmured, and rose, striding to the other side of our camp.
I did as such, and then headed down to a nearby stream. I sat on a flat rock and watched my reflection ripple in the water. I called up the magic from my veins to make a miniature water spout, then sat there watching it as it collected dirt from the bottom of the stream and grew larger. It was about a metre high when I passed my hand over it, commanding it to stop. It collapsed on itself, and all that remained was a stirred up patch of water.
“Nice.” I heard Phoenix comment, and looked up to see him standing against a tree, watching me.
Trying to pretend that I didn’t feel an enormous amount of butterflies in my stomach, I answered casually.
“You could do exactly the same.”
“Yes,” he said, making his way down the bank to sit with me on my rock. “I’m still allowed to say it was nice though.”
I smiled, the weight in my stomach lessening somewhat.
“Alright.” I said, turning back towards the water.
We sat together quietly on the rock, watching a bird gobble down a fish.
“How are things going with Eleanora?” I asked quietly.
He pointed to the bird, which flew off.
“That reminded you of her?”
I grinned wryly. He sighed.
“I don’t want to talk about her.” He said after a moment.
I glanced at him, unnerved by how close we were sitting together.
“Alright,” I said again, slowly. “Can I ask a question then?”
He picked up a flat stone from the river bed, turning it over and over in his callused fingers.
“Ok,” he said carefully.
“Why have you been ignoring me? We’re soul mates, Phoenix, unless something went wrong-“
“Nothing went wrong,” he interrupted. “We’re soul mates.”
He turned to me, so close that I could see the rough stubble on his jaw.
“We’re soul mates,” he repeated softly, as though reminding himself.
We sat, looking at each other, just centimetres apart, for a long while. I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eyes, instead focussing my gaze on his collarbone.
“Something’s wrong,” he said, and I knew he wasn’t asking.
I nodded rather than try to deny it.
“What is it?”
“Dustin,” I said heavily. “I think I want to break up with him, but I just can’t bring myself to do it.”
“Oh,” was all he said, and then looked away to the river. “Do you like him?”
“Of course,” I replied automatically, but then relented. “Well, I did until a few weeks ago.”
Phoenix looked back at me, concern in his orange eyes.
“What changed?”
“We got away from the Academy. The few days in Riverdoor made me open my eyes. I felt free,” I pushed the toes of my boots through the mud. “I feel like I’m always being watched back at school.”
He didn’t reply straight away, and I looked up to see him wrestling with something.
“You are,” he said finally, and it was as though a dam had burst. “Sky, don’t you see? That’s why I haven’t been able to talk to you. That’s why I’ve been dating Eleanora.”
My breath seemed to stop in my chest, but I didn’t give anything away on my face.
“What... what are you talking about?” I asked.
“I’m so sorry for how I’ve been treating you,” he said, and I knew he meant it. “All of those times I wanted to talk to you... but I couldn’t.”
“Why not?” I asked, starting to get angry. “Why couldn’t you talk to me, Phoenix, what could possibly be so awful that you couldn’t risk a few words, a smile maybe. Why have you left me on my own for all these months?”
“Don’t ask me to tell you,” he replied, echoing Jett.
“Fine! Just leave me in the dark, guessing!”
“That’s how you have to be,” he said. “Please, Sky, it’s for your own good.”
Tears brimmed in my eyes and spilled over before I could stop them. Phoenix wrapped his arms around me and I leant into him, crying into his shirt. I wasn’t too sure what I was crying about, but having him there to comfort me, to finally hold me, helped a great deal. I wrestled my emotions until they were back under my control and wiped my face on my sleeve.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I’m just so confused.”
“I’m sorry too,” he said, still holding me. “But you must never know.”
He got up and walked back to camp, leaving me sniffling by the river. Maybe my womanly emotions were just too much for him. I raised the waterspout again angrily. Why did everyone insist on keeping me in the dark? I let the spout grow taller and taller until it began to pull the water from the bank, then let it drop. A small wave of water crashed over the toes of my boots, getting my socks wet and making my mood worse.
I stubbornly sat on my rock until sunset when he came back to get me.
“Come, look what I’ve found,” he said, before disappearing into the trees.
I heaved a sigh and stood up, stretching after sitting in the same position for so long. Apparently I took too long, because he came back and grabbed my arm, pulling me through the trees.
“What is the big hurry?” I asked, trying not to fall over my own feet.
He was saved answering as we emerged from the trees on the other side of our camp. My jaw dropped as I took in the view.
We were standing on a rocky cliff, just above the tops of the trees. The sun was setting, turning the leaves on the trees brilliant hues of orange and gold. It made it look like the forest was on fire, and it was absolutely spectacular. I edged my way to the drop off, peering over it to the forest floor below.
“I’m glad we found this before night fall,” I said seriously, and he laughed.
>
“You’re so practical,” he told me. “Can’t you see the beauty?”
“Of course I can,” I replied, turning back to him, the sun warming my face. “But I can also see broken bones if one of us had fallen off.”
He just grinned and sat on the rock with his legs hanging over the edge. I hesitated, and then sat next to him, close enough to feel the heat coming off of his body.
“I’m sorry about before,” he said.
I waved it away.
“Don’t worry about it. I mean, I’m insanely curious about what you’re all keeping from me, but-“
“Wait, what do you mean ‘you all?’”
“Jett’s keeping something from me as well. And Larni too,” my heart sank as I remembered I hadn’t given her the scarf yet. “And now you. It’s got to be bad, though.”
“It’s not. Well, it shouldn’t be,” he said cryptically.
“No more,” I told him, pointing threateningly at his nose. “If you’re not going to tell me the whole story, don’t be a tease.”
The word seemed to affect him more than it should have. His pupils dilated and suddenly his eyes were searching mine for something. I found it hard to breathe, my heart pounding in my ears. He was so very close to me, and it looked as though he was just beginning to realise the same thing.
Almost without conscious thought, I lifted my hand and pressed it to his jaw, just to feel what his stubble felt like. When he pressed my hand to his face, leaning into my palm, the air around us became electric with tension.
He opened his eyes, meeting mine, orange to green. Time felt like it had slowed down almost to a stop, and we were the only two people on the planet.
My hand slid from his jaw to his chest. I pressed my hand flat, feeling his heartbeat against my palm. I closed my eyes, and I felt him lean closer. I opened my eyes again to find him very near, our noses almost touching. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to close the distance between us and press my lips to his.
He moved his hand to the back of my neck and pulled me forward, deepening the kiss. His lips were rough but soft, cold but hot. A gentle breeze moved my hair away from my face as we kissed in the dying light of the sun.
Suddenly, my eyes flew open and I broke the contact between us. We both stared at each other for a moment. Before he could say anything, before I could think rationally, I fled back towards the camp.
All of those times that I imagined kissing him, I never seriously thought it would happen! I kept running, straight down to the river bank. I sat on the rock and clutched my head in my hands. What was I doing? What about Dustin?
I knew now that my relationship with him was well and truly dead. I thought it dead before; now it could never be revived.
I touched my lips, recalling how Phoenix’s had felt against them. I blushed a deep red as I remembered every glorious second.
“Sky,” he said behind me, and I almost jumped into the river in fright. “I’m sorry. That shouldn’t have happened.”
“I’m sorry too,” good grief, he was in a relationship as well. What had we done? “It won’t happen again.” I whispered.
He nodded slowly.
“That would probably be best. Come up and help me cook.”
I followed him reluctantly back to camp and we made dinner in silence. I softened a little when he made me the bread on stick after dinner treat, and the tension lessened a little between the two of us.
That evening we sat around our fire, and he set about telling me about his life in Orthandrell and the Mountains.
“It’s cold, all year around,” he said, the firelight dancing on his face making him look ten years older and wiser. “It’s almost constantly dark as well, either with storm clouds or the night sky,” he prodded a coal in the fire with a long stick. “I’ve never had a family,” he admitted. “I’ve always been moved about through our village. It’s why I came to the Academy when they called; I just wanted somewhere to call home.”
I sat next to him on the log and, despite my misgivings, wrapped my arms around him, resting my head on his shoulder.
“You have somewhere to call home,” I told him. “And someone to come back to.”
He smiled at me, though somewhat a little sadly.
“How about you?” he asked, and I lifted my head from his shoulder.
“I left my Mum behind,” I started quietly. “I don’t think she knows where I went,” I wrapped my arms around my legs. “I miss her a lot. I’ve thought of her every day since I came here.”
I bit my lip to stop it wobbling.
“And, my dad,” I stopped myself. I’d never talked to anyone about my dad, not anyone.
Phoenix put his arm around me, drawing me in close and suddenly I felt incredibly safe.
“My dad left when I was little,” I said quietly. “I don’t even remember him. I know that he and Mum weren’t married though; the kids at school teased me enough for it.”
“How did they know?”
“Everyone in my town knew. It’s the kind of place you can’t keep secrets. Or road rage.”
We sat together in silence with heavy hearts.
“Here, remember that trick that Yu taught us?” Phoenix said suddenly, sitting up straight. “The one about using your surroundings to help you in combat?”
I sure did remember. He’d strung up Ispin with vines, because Ispin had been talking in class.
“I modified it a little,” he continued. “And look.”
The coals in the fire suddenly merged together, and a little man made of fire and ashes stood up. His eyes glowed with embers, and he looked up at us both.
“Is he alive?” I asked in wonder.
“No, he’s just a puppet,” Phoenix said, his hand out over the fire. “Go on, try it.”
I held out my hand, mimicking the way Phoenix held his fingers. I sent a pulse of magic into the coals, picturing the little man Phoenix had made. Another fire puppet stood up out of the ashes and looked up at me, though this one had long hair made of flames.
“They’re so cute,” I said, watching them closely.
“Don’t get too close,” Phoenix warned. “They’re still made of fire and they’ll burn you.”
We played with the puppets for a little while, watching them chase each other over the burning sticks. The fire burnt low, and we let our fire puppets sink into the ashes. I was sad to see mine go.
“We can make them whenever we have a fire,” Phoenix told me. “They’re not gone.”
That night when we lay down to go to sleep, all of the tension between us that I thought had melted away came rushing back tenfold. I knew he was facing me – I could see him slightly in the glow of the dying fire – and he knew I was looking at him. When my eyes had adjusted to the dark, I could see his mouth and I ached to lean over and finish what we’d started on the cliffs. When we finally dropped off to sleep, I dreamt of fire puppets and fish eating birds.
Soul Fire Page 38