Page 57 of Flame and Sparrow

“The reasons are irrelevant,” said that same deep voice from before. “She’s no threat to you. Release her.”

My eyes blinked open to the sight of Dravyn facing the God of Death. The air was in a heated frenzy all around them, power and magic roiling off their bodies, creating an updraft that lifted pieces of their clothing and hair and whipped them about.

I started to reach for one of the embers surrounding Dravyn, desperate for even a burst of the warmth I’d felt a moment ago, but shadowy ropes of Death magic whipped between me and him, extinguishing the embers before taking aim at my throat and wrapping tightly around it.

“I have work to do,” said the God of Death, his horrible cavern eyes fixed on Dravyn. He directed his magic more and more tightly around my throat without even glancing my way. “You know of the threats we face. Of the task that’s been appointed to me and my creations—a task I cannot do while there are troublesome mortals poking around in my territory.”

“She won’t do it again.”

“Can you besure?” His voice was needling, like spiders crawling down my spine. “I think we need to teach her a lesson while she’s here.”

The shadows around my throat tightened.

All of the fire around us roared in response, even the tiniest embers swelling into a terrifying size. Waves of the gods’ competing power overcame me. I shut my eyes briefly, trying to ward off the dizziness that followed. I opened them again just in time to see the God of Death taking a step back, his shadows retreating with him.

Threads of fire were advancing against those shadows, weaving in and out in a deadly dance of power.

I had never seen fire like this—it moved as fluidly as water, and the colors were incredible, a dozen different shades of red and orange and white. As I stared, I would have sworn I saw the flames twisting and taking on the shapes of beasts snapping at Death’s shadows, burning them away whenever they managed to get them between their jaws.

The God of Death reached toward me one last time, his root-like hands lifting, magic rising up to drain the Fire magic separating us—but not quickly enough. It was clear he was being overpowered; I could only just make out his strange shape on the other side of the wall of solid flame building before me, and it was disappearing fast.

Just before the fire turned solid enough to block him completely from view, I felt his magic give one final, horribly cold surge, and I heard his voice one last time from the other side—

“Take her and go,” he hissed.

I was barely conscious, but my mind caught the wordgo,and I started to walk without another thought. I don’t know how far I actually made it; I’d like to think I managed at least a respectable distance on my own two feet before I felt my legs crumpling.

A hand caught my arm, steadying me. Another pressed to my cheek.

Warmth flooded through me—the Fire God’s magic, guarding against the deathly cold still lingering and trying to bite through and hollow me out.

He lifted me off my stumbling feet, holding me tightly against his broad chest. He smelled of war. Of metal and fire and smoke. I shouldn’t have found the scent comforting, but it was becoming familiar; the house I’d spent the past weeks in smelled of similar things—of his magic that had kept me safe multiple times now. Somewhere in the depths of my mind was a question that I was too weak to ask out loud—

Why?

Why are you keeping me safe?

I heard his voice then as I’d heard him in my prison cell weeks ago—a faraway voice echoing in my mind. Calm, powerful, pursuing me even as I tried to slip away into the dark.

You can’t stay asleep forever, he’d told me in the cell, and he insisted on the same thing now.Stay awake. You have to stay awake. Look at me.

I did.

I don’t know how I managed it, but I looked up and met his gaze. His strange silver eyes. In my mind I made a list of what the color reminded me of, picturing each object, holding to them like anchors to reality.Clouds. Blades. Storms. Armor…

My eyes stayed open and soon managed to focus on the things surrounding me instead—the things I was being carried away from. The howling veilhounds. The dark ocean. The magic—bright Fire and hollow Death vying for dominance in a world that, in that moment, seemed as bruised and broken as any mortal realm down below it.

Chapter17

“Drink,”the God of Fire ordered as he slammed a cup down on the table between us.

I took it with a slightly trembling hand but didn’t lift it to my lips right away. Partly because I didn’t fully trust what was inside, but mostly because I was still too dizzy to manage drinking anything.

I was in an unfamiliar room that was spinning alarmingly fast. I made out a faraway ceiling made of glass, several gold-accented columns, but little else before my stomach started to shift and I had to shut my eyes.

I took a few deep breaths and then tried again. My surroundings still tipped and swayed, but I concluded we were in an atrium of sorts. The table we sat at was in the center of a sunken-in space. Steps rose up to wide marble walkways all around us, and several grand, arched doorways were spaced evenly along these walkways.

There were colorful plants of all shapes and sizes soaking up the light filtering through the glass ceiling—light which came from what I assumed was another false sun like the one I had at my little house. The warm air smelled of a strange but alluring combination of smoke and citrus, and there was a sparkle to it similar to the shimmer I’d witnessed when first arriving in this realm.

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