He frowned. “We have a lot of things to figure out, I think.”
I couldn’t argue with that. And the list of things extended well beyond my powers.
One thing in particular struck me as we stood there. I said nothing of it at first, yet Dravyn still fixed me with a curious, expectant gaze; the anxiety suddenly rolling in my stomach must have been obvious on my face.
But I didn’t look away.
No more secrets. We’d decided on that before marching into our last battle together—that whatever there was to figure out, we would face it together.
More than magic bound us together after all we’d gone through these past months, which was why I cleared my throat and said, “There’s something else that happened beside the river. Something Andrel said to me before you caught up with us.”
The mere mention of Andrel’s name stirred up a scorching wind, sent it searing across my skin before Dravyn reined it in and calmly asked, “What did he say to you?”
“When I was lying there, he thought I was dying, too, I think. So he said something he probably wouldn’t have, otherwise. Something I couldn’t make sense of at the time, but now…”
Out of habit, I reached for the sparrow-shaped charm that had once hung so often from my neck. For so many years, it had been my greatest sense of comfort and strength.
But it was no longer there; the only thing my hand fell upon was my bloodied clothing and the bruised, scarred skin underneath it.
“Karys?”
I lowered my hand, once again looking the God of Fire in the eyes. “Dravyn…I think my sister is still alive.”
Chapter 2
Karys
Six Weeks Later
I wokeup surrounded by flames.
The world seemed to be moving in slow motion, my body growing heavier as the seconds crawled by and the fires built higher, tongues of crimson and crackling heat lashing out, blistering my skin.
I breathed in deeply. Too deeply. Smoke flooded my lungs. The choking fit that followed succeeded in waking me completely, and I rolled from the bench I’d fallen asleep on, hitting the ground hard.
My surroundings spun, but distinct, bright colors and bold shapes soon began to emerge from the jumble—canopies of silver-green leaves and twisting vines, clutches of golden flowers, statues made up of elegant edges and smooth-polished stone.
“Elestra,” I heard myself whisper, reminding me of where I was.
WhatI was.
Elestra was a garden meant for middle-gods—a lavish, beautiful meeting place at the center of the Shade Court’s four territories. A place that was no longer off-limits to me, its energies now inviting rather than overwhelming. Saying its name out loud grounded me somewhat, making it easier to believe this garden and the middle-heavens surrounding it were both real.
I was really here.
And I hadreallyset all the magnificence surrounding me on fire…a response, I assumed, to yet more nightmares I could scarcely remember.
Frantically, I lifted my hands, trying to remember the words, thecontrolI’d practiced with Dravyn over the past weeks. He could extinguish fires like this with little more than a whispered command. A wave of his hand. A tiny, deliberate breath.
Myself, I was still finding it much easier to start fires than to put them out.
I let my eyes flutter shut and focused on the feel of my fingers, zeroing in on each tip as I moved them one by one. I tried my damnedest to ignore the very real heat blanketing me, the beads of sweat soaking the nape of my neck, the acrid smoke that felt like it was leaving permanent scorch marks on my lungs….
Those things are all secondary to you,Dravyn had tried— repeatedly—to make me understand.The fire isn’t in control of you, you’re in control of it.
I clenched my eyes tighter, determined to block out the flames. More sweat built on my skin, trickling down, pooling against my lower back. High above, a branch crackled and ignited, sending awhooshof heat over me before it severed from its tree and thunked against the ground, making me jump.
Just as I started to truly panic, a cool breeze caressed my cheek, followed by a distinct tinkling and cracking sound.