Page 13 of Fire Kissed
A sparking moment fills the heavy air.
And then he drops me.
The air knocks from my lungs as I stagger on my feet, my boots scuffing over the deep puddle beneath me. The warmth of his hand trails away from my back as he turns slowly to look out at the world we now stand in.
Moisture burdens every breath I breathe, making it thick and cloudy in my lungs. A cough settles at the back of my throat, but I don’t dare make a sound.
Not yet.
The word “wasteland” comes to mind. The plains of the earth roll out into a vast, gray nothingness, only interrupted by mounds of broken mountains that end abruptly, only a hundred feet high. The dirt beneath my feet is muddy and void of vegetation.
Nothingliveshere...
Then why are Aric and Latham here?
“We need to head toward the City,” Torben grunts on the quietest grumble of a sound.
The City...
The rolling plains lead out to a looming and vacant horizon. Not even stars decorate the dark nothingness.
I question his words once more, but just as before, I trust him to guide me.
He’s the only friend I have in this world or the last, after all.
The press of his hand against my back is fleeting as he ushers me forward. My boots slop into the ground with every step I take, but for the most part, everything is silent.
Eerily silent.
“There’s a shadow to the right.” I nearly turn my head, but his following, stiff words stop me. “Don’t look at it. Sometimes the best thing you can do to combat monsters is to ignore them.” I let that sink in. “Sometimes it’s the worst thing you can do too.”
I stumble a bit as that, too, sinks in.
Well. Shit.
Okay.
I swallow hard, the hair at the back of my neck prickling up at the thought of something watching us—something I can’t look at, but I’m now all too aware is there.
We trail out farther and farther, turning sometimes into the void of the land without landmarks to note along our way. The faith I put into the man leading me is unsurmountable. And when I look up at Torben’s total god-of-war appearance, I know I’m in good hands. I just wish we had consistency in our trust.
He won’t tell me why Hela chose me. Or my mother, for that matter. He won’t tell me much of anything.
But he also said I couldn’t see Aric and Latham, and yet, here we are. If I tread carefully, would he trust me enough to tell me more?
“Could you have refused to bring me to Hell?” I ask after half an hour’s time must have faded away.
He arches an eyebrow my way but tilts his head this way and that. The anger in him isn’t along the surface. He’s less tense now that we’re not in Hela’s realm. The realm of monsters is less dangerous for him, it seems.
“No,” he finally confirms. Tension etching that word as he says it hard and certain. “If I’d have refused, Serpan would have simply gone in my place.”
I nod along to that, and he wraps his arm fully around me when I lean into his side. It’s natural. Every move I make is a response of the language we speak without saying a single word. And his body reacts just as smoothly as mine.
“What’s my mother’s relationship with Mordon?” My voice dips at the thought of my next question. “Is she like you are with Hela?”
A tightness wraps his jaw, the muscle there ticking hard.
“Sometimes we leave our realms thinking others might have it better.” His head shakes hard as he holds me even harder. “And sometimes your newfound torment is nothing compared to your last.”
