Shock rooted her to the spot. She didn’t even think to snatch her hand out of the fire. Sebastian’s expression was completely blank, as if he were a statue carved by an inexperienced craftsman who didn’t know how to render human emotion in stone. They stared at each other for a long, long moment while Fiona scrambled desperately for some way to rewind time, or strike Sebastian blind, anything to reverse his discovery.
Finally, Sebastian took a short step backward. Fiona snatched a thick branch from the fire and brandished it at him, making him stop. “Don’t,” she said.
“What do you think I’ll do?” he asked, but he stopped moving.
“I won’t let you—” She didn’t know how to end that sentence. She had to force him to keep her secret, and the only way she could see to do that meant his death. She quailed at the thought.
Sebastian took another step, this time toward her. “Fiona—”
“I said don’t,” Fiona said. She realized she was holding the branch flame end first and switched it to her other hand, where it burned like a torch. “I don’t want to kill you.”
“Then don’t. Are you afraid I’ll tell someone? I wouldn’t do that.”
Fiona laughed. His still face was so at odds with the intensity of his voice, it was either laugh or run screaming. “As if I believe that.”
“You have inherent magic. That’s not a crime.”
“You’re a fool if you believe that makes me safe. Makes you safe from me. Lie on the ground. Face first.”
“Why?” He didn’t move.
“Because I want a head start on you. Down. Now.”
“Fiona, you don’t have to run. I’m not going to betray you.” He still made no move to lie down or to walk toward her.
“Do you think I won’t turn this power on you?”
“That’s exactly what I think. You’re not evil, and I don’t believe you’ve ever hurt anyone intentionally in your life. Put the branch down and let me come closer. I’m freezing.”
Fiona realized Sebastian was as sopping wet as she was, and he trembled occasionally. His brown hair was dark with river water. “Did you jump in the river, too?”
“I was on the next bridge north from you. I saw you jump. It seemed like—” He shivered convulsively. “Like a good idea at the time. Now I’m damned cold and your fire looks like salvation. Please, Fiona. I just want to warm up. We can worry about the rest later.”
If he came closer, close enough for her to lay hands on him, she could burn him, stop him telling anyone about her permanently. The idea made her want to vomit. The smell of cooked human flesh—it was a memory she wished she didn’t have. She lowered the branch. “You stay on your side, and I’ll stay on mine,” she said. “Don’t come near me, or you’ll find out how easily flesh burns.”
Sebastian nodded and walked swiftly to the fire, crouching next to it and holding his hands up to savor its warmth. He closed his eyes as if experiencing profound bliss. “Thank you,” he said. “I thought I might die out here. It’s not that cold, I suppose, but between the river and the overcast…thank you.”
Fiona tossed the branch back into the fire and knelt beside it, breathing in the delicious smell of burning wood. Whatever the trees were, their wood or bark had a sweetish, spicy scent that reminded her of cinnamon and cloves mixed together. She didn’t feel much like talking, and meeting Sebastian’s eyes felt wrong, since killing him was still a possibility. You won’t do it, she admitted to herself. She likely couldn’t even have killed him if he were a stranger, chance-met in the wilds outside Haizea, but a friend? No. Tears slid down her cheek. He knew her secret, and that was the end for her.
“How long have you had this magic?” Sebastian asked.
There was no point in concealing anything, not anymore. “Since I was thirteen.”
“And you’ve kept it secret all that time? That’s…I can’t imagine how hard that would be.”
Fiona said nothing.
“How does it work? Do you have to be touching something to burn it?” Sebastian asked.
“Why do you care? Are you looking for evidence to use at my trial?” she shot back.
His brows drew up in surprise. “I told you, I’m not going to tell anyone.”
“Like I believe that.”
“What kind of friend betrays a trust like that? Fiona—”
“Fear breaks all manner of bonds, even friendship.”
“I’m not afraid of you.”
“Maybe you should be.”
“Why? It’s not as if you burn things against your will. I assume. We’ve traveled together long enough, I think I’d have noticed if people went up in greasy pillars of fire wherever you passed.”
It startled a laugh out of her. “It’s still frightening.”
“Not to me. Though I can imagine you might be frightened of it. That’s an incredible power to have. And so much like an Ascendant’s…” His voice trailed off. “I probably shouldn’t have said that.”
“You see why I can’t afford to let anyone know.”
“You’re not going to kill me.”
She sighed. “No.”
“So, you can set things on fire with a touch, you can’t be burned—is it only your own fire that doesn’t burn you, or all fires?”
This was the strangest conversation she’d ever had. “All fires.”
“That’s amazing.” He sounded genuinely impressed, and it startled her into looking at him. He had his hazel eyes fixed on her, did not look at all terrified or disgusted, and a pang of some unfamiliar emotion struck her. It wasn’t fear, or sorrow—it was loneliness. As if revealing her secret had put a distance between them she didn’t know how to bridge.
Sebastian stood and turned his back on her, and the pang redoubled. She blinked away tears. Even if he wasn’t going to tell anyone, even if he wouldn’t bring the hunters down on her, they could never go back to what they’d been before.
“I’m not ignoring you,” Sebastian called out, “I’m just getting dry. Sweet heaven, I don’t think I’ve ever loved anything more than I love this fire right now. Can you build it up a bit?”
His matter of fact tone confused her. “What do you mean?”
He gestured aimlessly with one hand. “Stir it up higher, or something? Can you control it without touching it?”
“No.” She reached into its heart and moved a few branches, making it blaze hotter.
“That’s unfortunate. What a tremendous power that would be, being able to extinguish a house fire, for example.”
Her mouth fell open. “Why doesn’t this bother you?”
Sebastian shrugged. “I suppose it’s because fearing you is impossible, no matter what you’re capable of. And…I know someone else who has inherent magic. He always knows where his family is, wherever they are in the world. It just doesn’t seem like anything to get worked up about, not if you’re not an Ascendant and tyrannizing others. It’s all in what you do with it, I think.”
Fiona stared at him until the heat of the fire dried her eyeballs. “Who is he?”
“I can’t tell you. It’s not my secret to tell. You wouldn’t want me to tell anyone about you, right?”
“No, I wouldn’t.” Slowly, Fiona turned her back on him, trying to ignore the warning that screamed through her, telling her not to lower her defenses. The heat of the fire warmed and dried her back and her thick red hair, spilling loose past her shoulder blades. He couldn’t possibly be this well-adjusted about her secret, not even if he knew someone else with inherent magic. She needed to run as fast as she could away from this place, away from him. She contemplated her sore feet, scraped and raw from running through the Jaixante. She was in no condition to run anywhere unless she was desperate. And, she realized, she wasn’t desperate.
She heard Sebastian shift position again, then his feet rustled the winter-dry grass that grew around the copse. “I swear you don’t have anything to fear from me,” he said, squatting beside her. “And…”
“What?” She glanced at him, but he was looking past her toward the river.
“Doesn’t it feel good to share that burden?”
“I…don’t know. You’re the only person who knows about it.”
She looked off into the distance, feeling uncomfortable about meeting Sebastian’s eyes, and saw movement. “Someone’s coming,” she said. Dark figures, their clothes fluttering in the breeze… A cold hand gripped her heart. “Those are Jaixante guards.”
Sebastian grabbed her hand and began pulling her eastward, away from the fire that might as well have become a screaming beacon. “There’s nowhere to hide here,” he said. “We have to reach the hills.”
“There’s nowhere to hide there, either,” she pointed out, but ran with him.
She didn’t look over her shoulder to see if the guards had seen them, were chasing them, just concentrated on running and ignoring the pain in her feet as she lit on stones concealed by the tall grass. Her lungs and legs ached with exertion. Ahead, the terraced hills looked like stairways to nowhere, growing ever larger as she and Sebastian fled. They would provide no exit, but there was nowhere else to run.
They came out of the grassy field onto a dirt road, stretching out in the direction of the nearest farm. “We can’t risk it,” Sebastian panted. “Veriboldans…will give us up…to their own.”
“Need to find…a place to hide,” Fiona said. Sebastian’s feet were as bare and filthy as her own. “Off this road.”
Shouting drifted toward them on the breeze. It was unintelligible at this distance, but Fiona could guess what it meant. She ran faster, dragging Sebastian along with her, until the road began to rise into the hills. Then she veered sharply left, toward a farmhouse sited halfway up the nearest hill. “We can’t hide there,” Sebastian said, “they’ll search it.”
“We just…want them to think…we’re there,” Fiona said.
She turned to follow the curve of one of the terrace steps and plunged headlong into the barley field. The waving heads of grain were only chest-high on her, not tall enough to conceal them. They’d have to keep running.
They reached the farmhouse, where a startled woman paused in hanging laundry on a line to stare at them, and pelted up its short front steps and into cool darkness. The woman screamed and shouted something in Veriboldan, but Fiona was too far away to understand it.
The house was built with a single long hallway running from the front of the house to its back, with doors opening off it on both sides. Fiona slowed her pace, grabbing Sebastian and signaling him to be silent. They trotted down the hall, moving almost noiselessly on their bare feet, and let themselves out the back, Sebastian holding the door carefully so it wouldn’t slam. The woman was still screaming, and there was the distant shouting again. Fiona nodded, and they took off running again, around the back yard where chickens browsed placidly.
The farmhouse was halfway up the hill, which grew steeper from that point up—but the terraces, and the barley fields, stopped there too. Fiona let go Sebastian’s hand and went ahead until she was climbing, hand and foot, up to the flat top of the hill where a sort of ledge protruded over the eastern face. She stood at the top and looked out over the hills stretching all the way north to Haizea. “We’ve still got a long way to run, and more of those guards could be watching for us.”
“We need to keep moving,” Sebastian said, pulling himself up to join her. “They won’t be fooled for long. If they’re fooled at all. I doubt the Jaixante employs stupid men in their guard.”
“We’ll have to stay low. The best outcome would be to stall them until nightfall, when we can move more freely under cover of dark.”
“That’s at least seven hours away. You think we can stay ahead of them that long?”
“I think—”
To the north, farther down the hill, a dark-clad figure came into view, then another. Fiona dropped to lie flat on the sheltering ledge and cursed. “They went both ways.”
“Definitely not stupid men,” Sebastian said, going to his knees beside her. “Let’s hope they don’t know where we really are.”
They lay, listening to the guards’ approach. Fiona’s heart pounded painfully fast. She and Sebastian had gotten high enough, fast enough, that the second set of guards hadn’t seen them, or they’d be moving more rapidly. Instead, the men were moving through the barley fields at a comfortable speed, crushing the tender plants underfoot and sending up a fresh green scent. They were like a couple of housecats, certain of their prey and choosing their ground. If the wind shifted, if the guards were truly alert, she and Sebastian might be betrayed by the smell of the river Fiona was sure still lingered on both of them.
She couldn’t see the guards, only hear them, but Sebastian, who was closer to the edge, tensed, then grabbed her hand and squeezed. The crashing grew louder until it felt as if the men were right below them, close enough for Fiona to leap out and tackle them, if she’d been idiot enough to do that. Then it began to fade. Sebastian’s grip grew tighter. Fiona heard one of the guards say something in Veriboldan that was carried away by the growing wind. Then the crashing vanished, and Sebastian released Fiona’s hand. “Sorry,” he said.
Fiona shrugged it off. “Can you see the farmhouse?”
“Yes. There’s quite a lot of activity. The guards—the ones who just passed us—are out of the fields and running now. We need to move.”
They went over the summit and down the back side of the hill, moving as quickly as they could over the steep terrain. There was no terracing on that side, and Fiona sometimes found herself slipping, sliding downward for several feet before catching herself. It would have been fun if she hadn’t been so tense. It wasn’t a large farmhouse, and as soon as the guards finished searching it, they’d spread out over the hills. She and Sebastian had to stay ahead of them.
They reached the valley between the hills and began running down another of those dirt roads that led between farmhouses. It was wide open, offering nothing like concealment, but they didn’t have time for that, or for winding their way over the hills. Fiona’s feet ached, there was a stitch in her side, and her lungs had started reminding her that they’d been nearly drowned scant hours before. She kept moving, trailing Sebastian by a little. There was a trace of blood on the sole of his foot, and he was limping.
“Are you all right?” she said. “Should you bind that up?”
“No time. We need to put as much distance between them and us as possible.”
“Yes, but you’ll move faster if it’s tended.”
Sebastian jogged to a halt and stood bent over, with his hands on his knees. “I hope we won’t regret this,” he said. He lifted his injured foot, rubbed it clean of dirt as best he could, then tore a strip from the hem of his brown shirt and wrapped his foot.
Fiona watched the road behind them. It was reassuringly empty of Jaixante guards, though there were a few people dressed in Veriboldan commoners’ clothing. No doubt traffic would pick up the closer they got to Haizea. That could be a problem. Fiona had no idea how distinctive their clothing was, whether it would be identified as Irantzen Temple garb, but they definitely looked like they’d been for a swim. Maybe they could pass for beggars—though, Tremontanan beggars in the capital of Veribold? That wouldn’t be much of a disguise. On the other hand, it didn’t need to be; it only had to get them to the stable, and then they could change into their own clothes and hurry out of Haizea as fast as Mittens and the others could run.
In the distance, dark, fluttering figures appeared.
“We have to move,” she told Sebastian, who dropped his foot and looked past her at the approaching guards. Without a word, he broke into a run.