Page 172 of Brimstone
Hell washere.
But then Saeris was leaning over Tal’s flaming body, and she was pressing her hands to his chest. Her whole right arm was illuminated brilliant white-blue.
In the space between heartbeats, where my seized lungs tried and failed to take a breath, the glowing filaments of Iseabail’s spell fell apart, and the fires of hell went out.
41
PROCESSING
SAERIS
“SHE DIDN’T EVENtryto find Ren.”
Sunlight dappled the grass, spearing through the canopy of the trees. Through the small window created by the branches overhead, a bird circled, little more than a black speck against the cerulean sky. The thick, warm air hummed with the drone of some winged insect. Fisher stalked barefoot through the grass, viciously stripping the leaves from a stick he’d found on the ground and spitting out a litany of curse words in Old Fae that I could tell werehighlyoffensive, even though I had no idea what he was saying.
I hugged my knees to my chest, relishing the feel of the sun on my bare arms. We had both been so tired when we’d passed out earlier that I’d assumed neither of us would dream, but here we were in Ballard. Fisher had explained that this was one of his favorite places to come when he was little. The clearing was small, skirted by forest on three sides and bounded by a rushing stream on the other. Silver fish glimmered like knives in the water, battling against the current.
I wound the blade of grass I’d been fiddling with around my index finger, trying to find some order in my thoughts. Itwas difficult to concentrate in the dreams sometimes. It was as though I was missing information, and IknewI was missing it, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t figure out what I didn’t know.
Most people’s hair lightened a little in the sunlight, throwing a little red or chocolate, but not Kingfisher’s. His hair looked blacker than ever as the light beat down on him. His shoulder-length waves flicked up around his ears, making way for their pointed tips. What a strange thing he was. He was a winter creature. He’d said so himself. All pale skin, wintergreen eyes, and shadows. He seemed the most himself when there were snowflakes dusting his shoulders and his cheeks were flushed from the cold. But he was a different version of himself here, too. He belonged here just as much as at Cahlish or on the banks of the Darn. Ballard suited him. There was something about seeing him with bare feet and his shirt open to his stomach, displaying his roving ink . . .
His eyes glowed with rage as he turned and pointed his stick at me. “It would have taken her five minutes. Fiveminutes!” He stabbed the stick in the air, using it to punctuate his words. “And yet look at where we are. Ammontraíeth is a fucking graveyard, Tal is half dead, I have a witchandZovena locked in separate bedrooms at the estate, and westilldon’t know where Renfis is!”
“You’re cutting a new trail in the grass over there,” I told him.
“And!And!” He spun and hurled the stick into the river. “You have another rune, and we have no idea what this one is!”
The third rune had shown up when I’d touched Tal’s chest. I hadn’t meant to walk into that burning bedroom. Hadn’tmeantto touch the male’s marked chest. Something had pulled me forward, unbidden, with a sense of urgency I had been powerless to ignore. My body hadn’t been my own. That had been a terrifying experience, and I certainly didn’t want it repeated, but I had helped Tal as a result of it. More than helped him.According to the others, I’dsavedhim and prevented a portal to hell from consuming Cahlish. I couldn’t be mad about that, even if none of us understood how it had happened.
I held out my hand to Fisher, wriggling my fingers. “Can you come here, please?”
He clenched his jaw, eyeing me suspiciously. “If I come over there, I can’t pace,” he said.
“Really?” I pretended to look shocked. “Oh,no.”
“If I come over there, I’ll stop being mad at Iseabail.”
I waggled my fingers even harder. “Will being mad at her get you anywhere right now?” He gave me a deadpan look that would have made me laugh had the past day not been one of the shittiest I’d ever lived through. “Can you please just come here and hold me?”
That did it. His hands fell limp to his sides, his eyes burning into me for a second before he finally padded toward me across the grass. A second later, he was sitting cross-legged in front of me, reaching for me; he pulled me into his lap so that I was facing him, guiding my legs so that they were wrapped around his waist. His hands rested against the underside of my thighs, his thumbs working out the knots below my hips as he looked up at me.
“You just asked me toholdyou,” he said softly.
“I did.”
“Have you ever asked anyone else to do that?”
I shook my head, throwing my arms over his shoulders, then burying my face in the crook of his neck. “No. And if you tell anyone I askedyouto, I will vehemently deny it.”
He laughed, deep and low. “Out of the two of us, only one of us can’t lie, Osha. I think people will know who to believe.”
“Godscursed Firinn Stone.”
His laughter reverberated through his chest and into me. Such a comforting feeling. He stroked his hand over my hair,smoothing it down my back. He’d never said so, but he liked stroking my hair. I didn’t know why. I’d never felt like asking him, either. It was a reassuring touch. It calmed me more than anything else could. “So,” he whispered. “Do you want to talk about the fact that there’s a cure for the blood curse again?”
And just like that, my calm went up in smoke.
“Not really, no,” I mumbled into his chest.
