by DM Fike
“Shh!” I hissed. The dozing birds stirred, but none awoke. If I didn’t quiet this young upstart soon, he’d alert the others and I’d never be able to leave the homestead. Desperate, I patted my kangaroo pouch, but the phone wouldn’t help me at all.
But I did feel something hard and round in my shorts side pocket. Pulling it out, I found a quarter Carol had given me in change.
The raven’s thrashing quietened. He cocked his head at the coin.
I grinned, dangling it. “You like shiny stuff, don’t you?”
He hopped around, clearly excited about the quarter.
“Okay then,” I slid the coin into my fist, gathering air pith in my arm. “Go get it!”
I threw the quarter as far as I could in the opposite direction of where I wanted to go, drawing a sideways S to give it some extra distance. Its dual surfaces gleamed in the moonlight, a bright beacon. The raven glided furiously after it.
I sprinted toward the tree line, making it into the shadows in record time. I seriously doubted such a juvenile plan would actually work, but the raven never followed, and I plunged into the wisp channel without any snitch on my heels.
* * *
When you’re pumped for a fight, you want that fight to happen right away. It kinda kills the buzz when you’re hurrying around just to wait for something to happen. And yet, there I was, standing on a ridge above Florence, which spread out past the trees below me on the flat plains that drifted toward the Siuslaw River.
I had no idea when or where the fire golem might arrive, so I paced about like a tiger in a cage, checking for smoke far to the north and then looping back around to the south, then back again. Rafe’s bracelet dug into my skin underneath the hoodie, a constant reminder of the looming threat. But as the sun rose high above me and nothing happened, the weight became less of a warning and more of an irritation.
Too much empty time leaves your mind to wander. I asked myself a billion times how Rafe could be so sure about this fire golem, or if I should even trust him. When I finally convinced myself I’d committed to finishing this, that led to thoughts of my argument with Guntram and how I’d let him down. Once I ditched that guilt, Vincent and our current impasse in communication dominated my thoughts.
On a whim, I powered up the phone again. Vincent hadn’t called again, but he had sent a huge text that the phone carrier broke up into many disjointed chunks.
“Wall of text crits me for fatal damage,” I grumbled. I vowed not to read it, but curiosity and boredom broke that promise pretty quickly.
“Ina,” it read. “I wish I could explain this to you in a conversation and not in a text, but you’re not giving me a lot of options here. You must be upset seeing Christy and me together. She’s my ex-wife.”
I almost dropped the phone at that revelation. Ex-wife? Vincent was in his 20s. I tried to imagine marrying so young before I read on.
“We were high school sweethearts. Really young and in love, but it didn’t last once we grew up a little. It ended pretty badly. Tore our families apart. They were close and encouraged the relationship. But time heals some wounds, and we’ve become friends the past few years.”
“Friends,” I snorted to myself, remembering how she stroked Vincent’s face in the car. “Friends with benefits.”
“But not friends with benefits,” Vincent’s text went on, as if reading my thoughts. “Just normal friends. At least that’s what I want. Christy wants more but has respected my choice not to get back together.”
“Until you started fondling in the car,” I grumbled.
“I don’t know how much you saw. It probably looked like a date. It really wasn’t. I was in town for a business meeting. We met on a whim for dinner, I gave her a ride home, and I drove back to Florence.”
“So, you’re saying I just stumbled upon your purely platonic not-date with an ex?” I asked the phone.
“I’m not going to lie to you. I do sometimes stay the night at her house—to visit friends, go to football games, that kind of thing. But we haven’t been intimate since we divorced. I swear to God.”
At this confession, I wanted to chuck the phone down a nearby ledge. Was he building plausible deniability into his so-called explanation? How stupid did he think I was?
“I never meant to hurt your feelings,” he continued. “I’m not even sure where you and I stand. But I wanted you to understand I am truly not attached to anyone else. I’m single, and I didn’t lead you on in the apartment.”
“Too late,” I told the phone, ignoring the sting in my eyes. “I don’t care about your relationship status. I know mine, and it’s currently set to ‘go away.’”
“Please call me when you get this.”
I shoved the phone so hard into my pocket, I jammed a finger. “Not a chance,” I said. “Not now, not ever.” Determined not to dwell on the message, I glanced back at the horizon.
And that’s when I spotted the plume of smoke to the south.
Florence, for all its coastal glamor, is a rural town. It was possible someone had lit a small fire in their backyard for some innocuous reason. I ran down the ridge to check it out. Beyond the tree line, I zipped across the short shores Ackerley Lake, then busted up a second incline that overlooked Munsel Lake.
The smoke curled up above a long neighborhood of houses. And it was growing. Definitely a real fire.
I removed my boots, holding them in one hand as I stepped into the water. Tapping into my water pith, I drew a triangle over waves and sprinted across the top of Munsel. The relatively still surface of the lake flexed like sponge beneath my feet, forcing me to lean one way or the other to maintain my balance.
I found a landing dock not far away and raced for it. There was one older guy there with a sleeveless jacket and jeans. He’d backed up his pick-up truck to the water and had a motorboat halfway in the water, ready to go for a spin on the lake. Fortunately, he had his back to me as he messed around with his hitch, so he never saw me running at him from across the lake. That would have been awkward. Instead, I dashed across the parking lot unnoticed and out onto the highway that fed into it.
Panting from exertion, I took a second to realign my position. Down here at low elevation, I couldn’t see much due to the tall trees on either side of the road. Hoping for a better vantage point, I planted my feet wide in a sigil stance, then focused my air pith. I drew a short series of spiral Ss and, with a grimace, released an air blast underneath my feet.
Guntram may glide around with no problem, but I had major control issues. I would have loved to fly up several hundred feet to examine the fire, but I had to make do with twenty. Even then, I wobbled like a preschooler without training wheels. The view didn’t provide me much other than a direction. Even at this distance, flames licked toward the sky, snaking toward the houses.
The golem definitely meant to burn some people.
I let go of my air pith so I could fall back down, drawing an occasional spiral S to ease the descent. My graceless butt landed on the highway with an undignified smack anyway.
“Ouch,” I groaned. It smarted but no broken bones at least. I laced my boots back on. As I stood, a flash of silver loomed down the highway. Someone was driving my way. I didn’t have time to explain what I was doing in the middle of the road. I had to face this thing.
I dashed into the trees at the same time as the car screeched to a halt, not far from where I’d just been. I thought I heard a car door slam, but I didn’t look behind me as I evaded thorns and bramble. No sane person would run after me into these thick woods. With any luck, they’d notice the fire and call emergency services to help contain the blaze.
The air temperature rose fifteen degrees, a sign I neared my target. I passed a handful of animals scurrying away from the heat. At least the few animals that lived this close to town could handle themselves. I didn’t have to evacuate them.
It was the people in those houses I worried about.
I summoned a pocket of air before entering an ashen
wasteland, most of the tree trunks sizzling red with fire. I knew I was in over my head. I’d never entered the heart of a forest fire without other shepherds before, and my fire skills couldn’t begin to contain this. But I was too close to civilization. No shepherd would come to help me.
I was truly on my own.
I steeled myself as I approached the heat center. Burnt debris crackled around me, my air pocket protesting. When a spurt of smoke blew near my face, I switched to absorbing fire pith. All the other energy stores in my pithways faded as I became a fire absorption machine, every corner of my body filling with fire. I tried to smooth out the proper rhythm of intake and release, to let the fire pith leave and enter me in a continuous flow, or I would never stand a chance against the golem. I even managed to convince myself I just needed a few minutes, and I’d master a fire skill that had eluded me since I became a shepherd.
And that’s when a fire stream shot out of the black fog and hit me square in the stomach.
The sucker punch sent me backward, right into a massive tree trunk that had refused to yield to the inferno around it. I saw stars as my head whipped backward, cracking against a knot in the wood.
As I slid down to my knees, the fire golem appeared, as tall as a basketball hoop, an angry silhouette against its self-made purgatory. It roared, the sound sending sharp pinpricks up and down my spine. I wobbled with dizziness as it charged across the clearing toward me, flinging a fireball from the tip of its stump arm.
A shimmering shield appeared in front of me seconds before the fireball would have melted my face. My defensive charm had kicked in. It took the edge off the impact but sent shivers of sweltering force back at me, like a heavy slap to my face. Having activated, the pith inside the defensive charm weakened.
I might not survive a second attack.
That realization spurred me into action. I grabbed onto my water charm, letting its soothing chill speed through my pithways. I drew a series of Vs with lines jutting out the top, creating a water stream to throw back at the golem.
The golem’s hollow eyes widened in pain as the water ripped the arm holding a second fireball right off its shoulder socket. The enflamed woods trembled with its shrieks as it stumbled.
I had to finish this now, before I turned to ash like everything else around me. I grabbed onto Rafe’s bracelet, the fire charm between one thumb and forefinger.
The fire golem recovered from my water attack, its shortened arm growing back to its full length. As it expanded, the golem let out sparks of fire from the top of its head, both elbows, even its torso. They curved and curled together like a braided ribbon, hoping to melt me like a little wax candle on the spot.
I jerked to the side, thinking to avoid the assault, but realized sooner or later I would have to absorb this thing. Wincing, I braced myself for the fire golem’s energy, opening up my pithways.
Even knowing how awful absorbing its vaettur fire would feel didn’t lessen the impact. Stabbing sensations wracked me as it ravaged my pithways. My head pounded in agony as fire overwhelmed all my senses. If I hadn’t already been holding onto the bracelet, I probably would have fainted right then and there, a death sentence in a solo confrontation.
I couldn’t just keep absorbing. I concentrated on Rafe’s fire charm in between my fingers.
“Please,” I begged. “Let this work.”
Then I pushed the vaettur’s fire pith into it.
I didn’t realize it was possible, but the pain intensified. Rafe’s charm did absorb the golem’s pith, but it felt like a crayon getting threaded through a needle, and unfortunately my body was the needle in this analogy. My pithways threatened to explode from the strain.
A roar rang in my ears. I thought at first it might be my own voice but through slit eyelids, I caught sight of a wildly oscillating blaze. The terrified golem had attempted to run away, but I pulled it back. It raised its arms to ignite more fires, but I absorbed that energy too. As it flailed, trying to do anything to stop me, its giant form shrunk a few feet.
I couldn’t break contact. If I did, the golem would get away. I was the only thing standing between it and innocent people. That righteous fury gave me the resolve to hold my ground, breathing through anguish to get the job done.
What felt like an eternity probably only lasted a few minutes. I forced every last ounce of fire pith I could into Rafe’s charm, and as I did, the fire golem shriveled like an elderly man growing in reverse. Soon my height, then smaller, until finally it couldn’t have stood taller than a golden retriever. The golem seemed almost cute at the end, the size of a baby kitten and mewing pitifully, but I knew it was one stroke away from raging back to full form. With a final push, I absorbed the rest of its energy into my pithways.
It vanished in a pop, and with it gone, the forest fire lost some of its edge. The fire raged on, but with the source extinguished, it no longer consumed everything in its path. Instead it simmered with no real intention behind it, an orchestra without a conductor.
Which was a good thing, too, because I fell into a quagmire of soot and blacked out from exertion.
CHAPTER 20
“INA!”
Through the endless haze, someone called my name. I couldn’t see anything at first. Couldn’t move. My core felt stiff as a board, enmeshed into whatever muck I had fallen into.
“Ina!”
Someone shoved me over, and a bright orange glow lit up behind my eyelids. Groaning, I blinked to assuage its effects.
Vincent’s concerned face slowly came into focus. His hands poked around my arms and back. “Can you stand?” he asked frantically.
Sensations returned to me in a flood. A terrible headache. Lingering spasms in all my muscles. But the anger came from confronting this divorced two-timer. I latched onto that.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded.
He had the audacity to scowl at me. “Saving your mopey ass. Unless nature wizards often take naps in the middle of forest fires.”
His words brought the environment back into focus. I was still in the same spot where I’d drained the fire golem. The trees continued to burn around us, leaving only a thin thirty-degree window of perimeter that had not yet caught fire. Our only escape.
Vincent pointed toward that sanctuary. “We gotta go. Now.”
He wrapped his arms underneath my shoulders and dragged my torso upwards. I struggled to stand, not in control of my joints after the attack. Bits of staticky pinpricks emanated from Rafe’s bracelet, but I ignored that to focus on taking a few timid steps.
“Can you walk?” Vincent asked.
“I’ll make it,” I snapped.
Vincent did not let go, one arm tight around my waist as I lumbered forward. I leaned against him for added support, both loving and hating how much I enjoyed feeling his body close to mine, even in this dire situation.
“How the hell did you find me?” I asked as we inched our way forward.
“We’ll talk about it later.”
“We’ll talk about it now.”
“Are you serious?” he cried.
I dug in my heels, refusing to budge. “What do you think?”
His face reddened, this time not from the heat. “I put an app on your phone that allows me to track it whenever it’s powered on.”
“What?” I screamed.
“I just wanted to talk to you, okay?” he yelled right back. “I knew you were upset, but you wouldn’t let me explain myself. The app notified me that you were nearby, so I drove in this direction. I saw you diving into the forest and followed you.”
The silver car! I felt so stupid only now connecting the dots. “You ran after me into a forest fire?”
“I’m not an idiot,” he said in a tone that indicated that I was one. “I called 911 first. The fire department’s already got fighters out near a residential street, but they don’t have a lot of extra hands this far up.” He tugged at my arm. “So, let’s keep moving before we get stuck here.”
He was n
ot wrong. Our little window of safety had shrunk during our conversation, leaving only the thinnest slice left unmarred by fire. We hobbled together toward it as quickly as I could muster.
It wasn’t fast enough. The two sides of the fire surged toward each other in a sudden wind gust. I grabbed onto my air charm to try to reverse the wind’s course, but it was too late. The fires converged like hands clapping shut, blocking our exit before we could reach it.
“We’re trapped!” Vincent cried, falling back as smoke billowed toward us.
Choking, I clutched him tighter, creating a barrier of air around us with the last of my air pith. It allowed us both to breathe. Then, much as it hurt, I began the cycle of absorbing and releasing fire pith again, redirecting what I could away from us. But even as I struggled to find a back-and-forth flow for all the fire around us, I knew this strategy was only temporary.
We’d burn up in a matter of minutes.
My own death made me sad, but rage consumed me thinking I’d go down with Vincent.
“Why?” I yelled at him. “Why’d you come out here to die?”
Vincent’s fury matched my own. “Because I care about you, Ina!” Then he covered his face with his elbow as our air pocket waned.
As we both hunched over in coughing fits, my fury changed into despair. I didn’t want to die out here, not surrounded by one of the very elements I should be able to control as a competent shepherd.
It couldn’t end like this.
I spread my fingers out to the fire surrounding us. I wanted to redirect the swatch blocking our path, to allow us to pass through, but it was no use. Fire traced every corner of my pithways, on the verge of burning me from the inside out. No matter how much fire pith I released, more came sizzling to replace it. Smoke steamed off my skin.
“Dammit!” I screamed in frustration.
Beside me, Vincent’s fingernails dug into my shoulder. “Calm down,” he managed between hacks.