Page 82 of Burning Ice
Something flickered behind his eyes. It was awareness, perhaps, or perhaps disbelief.
“Did they rape you?”
Mirel half-shrugged, his body tightening. “Only when I was too hungry.”
For a second nothing moved. Kylix didn’t speak, and Mirel watched the change begin.
This wasn’t the tame spark that lit his cigarette. This was the other fire, the one born for the Aureate, the one that killed.
It rose behind his eyes, molten and violent, heat rolling off him in waves. Flame gathered as if from his very breath, crawling up through the copper seams until the air itself seemed to burn. It was dangerously beautiful, terrible in its purpose, and for a moment Mirel couldn’t tell if he feared it or wanted it.
“Who?”
“Kylix—”
“Who?”
The walls trembled. Flame licked across the copper inlays, crawling toward the seams. Heat pulsed through the floor until the glass shivered.
“T-two men,” Mirel stammered. “Kavan and Rild. They worked by the sheds, near the hospital. They brought food and—” His voice broke. “And took me.”
“They took you.” His voice was low, rough. One of the glass panes burst, scattering shards across the floor. Fire spilled through the cracks. “Those fucking animals.”
“P-please.” Mirel shook his head. “It was years ago.”
The fire brightened. Flame wrapped his wrists like cuffs.
“And they live?”
“Yes.”
Memory struck. The reek of the sheds, the scrape of boots, their laughter when they found him. Even Geron’s protection hadn’t saved him.
Kylix’s growl deepened. “Then they die.”
“No.” Mirel moved closer, reaching for him. “Don’t.” His fingertips met Kylix’s forearm, frost spreading instantly under his touch. Steam rose where skin met skin, ice cooling flame. The heat still hurt, but he didn’t pull away. “Please. It’s over.”
Kylix didn’t answer at first. The fire fought against the frost, then slowly yielded. His breathing steadied. The crack in the glass still glowed, but the room quieted.
He looked down at Mirel, jaw tight. “Promise me you’ll let me kill them.”
Mirel shook his head. “No killing.”
Kylix’s lips curved, not a smile, but something caught between fury and need. “Then I’ll dream of it.”
Mirel pressed his forehead against Kylix’s shoulder. The memory still left him trembling, and Kylix was still too hot to touch, but he stayed there until the glow beneath his skin began to fade. When he finally lifted his head, the light from Kylix’s multi-slate glimmered faintly up between them.
Kylix drew him close, voice low and claiming. “Mine to keep safe,” he murmured. “Mine to burn if I must.”
The words hung between them, half vow, half warning. Outside, the Waltr glass breathed frost and light. Inside, the air felt almost natural.
Mirel yawned, exhaustion softening him against Kylix’s chest. He brushed a thumb across his temple.
“You speak better now,” he said. “The stutter’s almost gone.”
A soft chime came from the multi-slate.
“What is it?” Mirel asked.
