Page 139 of Of Stars and Lightning
She had failed.
She failed, and it wasn’t even her fault, though it sure felt like it, as it always did. They were one full day away from finishing these trials. Through blurred vision and tears, she could vaguely make out Cas’s form before her.
“Sol,” he said softly through the haze.
“I don’t know what to do, Cas.”
She knew they were running out of time. Though the flames were mostly contained to the wooden buildings, they had started to slither out into the streets, enough so the smell of burnt embers enveloped them.
“I gave you my advice and you said no.” He pulled her up from her biceps. “Be strong in your decision, Princess. Listen. Listen, and let the elements guide you.” He gestured for her to close her eyes. “They’ve favored you this far.”
So she did.
Filling her lungs with what little air there was, she closed her eyes and listened.
At first, only the crackling fire consumed her. The smell of ashes and burning wood was overwhelming, and even through her eyelids she could see the dancing amber lights.
Her skin itched, begging for cold relief.
She exhaled.
With the exhale came a different sound—the sweet whispers of the wind like a lullaby. The scent of fire was replaced by that of menthol and salve, the kind Lora would rub on her to heal open wounds.
Sol opened her eyes and looked beyond Cas. Slowly, almost undetectably, the flames ahead seemed to part. They bent away from the houses and buildings, then flickered as if calling her forward.
When the gusts of cool air blew through her hair, Sol ran with it.
She willed her remaining energy and hope into her legs, begging them to continue. Swinging around corners and making dust drift, she followed the thread. It led her past crumbling storefronts and shriveled trees until the smell of mint and thyme made her skid to a stop.
Behind her, Cas panted. “Sol?”
Sol turned to look at the building before them. It was also engulfed in waves of flame and rubble, but the sign on the window front hung from metal strings, vaguely marking it as an APOTHECARY.
With another cool caress, Sol shouldered the door open.
Plumes of heavy smoke greeted her, making her cough and shield her face.
But there, beyond the foyer, the smoke parted, as if the wind itself tore it aside??—
“Phil!” Sol gasped, throwing herself forward. Before she could get inside, though, Cas pulled her back.
“No,” he commanded. “I will go.”
He pushed Sol outside, though the town streets were beginning to become just as dangerous as the inside of the fire-drenched buildings. She watched him disappear into the smoke, then after some minutes of nothing, almost melted into a puddle of utter relief as he emerged with Phil in his arms. The boy was ashen and covered in black smudges, but clearly lucid as he felt around the air.
“Princess!” he cried, thrashing until Cas put him down.
A sob ripped from Sol’s chest as she embraced him, pulling him into her. “It’s okay, you’re okay,” she whispered into his matted hair. “Where is Jonah?”
Phil shuddered against her. “Inside. I tried to shield him with the wind, but it was running out, and he couldn’t see??—”
Cas dashed back into the apothecary just as the roof began to crumble. The emotions flooding through Sol as the roof caved into itself—as the smoke and flames seemed to breathe before exploding—was mortifying. Fear, panic, and hopelessness all catapulted together until it ripped at her soul, and all she could do was hold Phil closer.
“CAS!” she yelled, torn between running after him and staying with Phil.
A heat hotter than the flames themselves burned at her back, where her birthmark lived, then spread to her throat, down to the scar on her palm, her blood bond, until all at once everything stopped.
Everything.
