Page 28 of Flame and Sparrow

All the warmth in the world abruptly disappeared. A strange sensation reverberated through my body, pricking at my skin like needles. I couldn’t readily name the feeling overcoming me, but I no longer felt wrapped in anythingsafe—I felt as if the outer layers of me had been scoured clean off, casting glaring firelight onto all of the ugliness underneath.

A sudden breeze stirred, whipping the flames around me higher and showering the offerings closest to my feet with red-hot sparks. I watched in horror as a nearby bundle of tied sage began to smoke, the edges of its silver-grey leaves glowing with heat. It caught fire with a slow, ominous crackling followed by a suddenwhoosh. More wayward sparks flew from it onto more bundles of herbs, kindling, and loosely tied scrolls that likely contained desperate, hastily-scribbled prayers.

One after the other, the rest of these offerings ignited.

Wind and flame and smoke swirled around me. Sweat dripped from my skin, drenching my clothing. I couldn’t see through the black smog. I couldn’t hear anything but the crackling, the sparking, the hiss and roar of things being devoured by an increasingly violent blaze.

And I couldn’tbreathe.

It took several moments to realize that this last part was not because the fire and smoke were choking the life from my lungs.

It was only because I was holding my breath.

I exhaled slowly, disbelievingly. But the smoke I then inhaled proved harmless, more of a refreshing mist than a choking smog.

The flames were hot, charring the platform and engulfing more and more…yet I was only sweating. My skinfeltburned and blistered in places, but a quick glance at even the most uncomfortable spots revealed a body perfectly intact. The fire licked at my skin like spiny grass tickling it. Irritating it. Nothing more.

The entire world had gone up in flames all around me.

But somehow, I was not burning.

Chapter9

Higher and higher thepyre went, lashes of fire reaching and twisting together, blocking out my view of the smoke-filled sky.

I still did not burn.

How?

Was this a new side of my magic emerging?

No, I doubted it; I had some healing power, but it had never protected me against anything—only helped piece me back together after injury.

So maybe I hadn’t imagined the whistle I heard. Maybe my allieswerehere. And Cillian’s brilliant mind for weapons…perhaps he’d created something that could counter fire?

I kept coming up with possibilities. My mind—so in love with neat, orderly lines and diagrams and explanations—wanted to force this chaos into a shape that made sense.

But as the tumultuous seconds ticked by, I could find no solid shape to assign to anything. It didn’t help that I felt like I was floating, my mind detached from my body, the scenery spinning around me and changing every time I blinked.

So I’m dreaming, then.

It was the only explanation for the way my feet did not seem to touch the ground, no matter how far I stretched my legs. The only reasoning for the way the world kept spinning faster and faster, pulling my bindings free as it did, and for the way those bindings soon fell in pieces all around me, burning instantly to ash as they hit the ground.

The platform was gone. I stood instead on a rocky stretch of earth. My feet touched it now, but I still felt like they were only skimming the surface, like one strong breeze might whisk me into the clouds. Twisting flames still surrounded me, yet the fires here were not spreading, not wild and reaching; they were more like walls fencing me in on two sides, calmly burning as if candle flames relegated to wicks.

Directly ahead, a crowd of unruly villagers still awaited my execution. But as I watched, they too disappeared, their bodies turning into smoke before my eyes. I followed the trails of smoke as they ascended toward a sky that was suddenly perfectly clear.

Once they were out of sight, everything became strangely silent.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the cerulean sky at first, trying to understand how the smog had been so quickly swept aside to reveal such a brilliant, peaceful day.

When I finally lowered my gaze, I gasped, the sound echoing in the unnatural quiet.

The most stunning man I’d ever seen stood before me. So stunning that it took me a moment to realize I’d seen him before—it was the guard from my prison. I was certain of it.

Yet, it wasn’t him at all.

He’d looked imposing from the moment I’d met him in my dark and dingy cell, but in the suddenly bright, clear day, with his edges accented by the firelight walling us in, he looked…inhuman.

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