She cuts a murderous look in my direction.“I am frozen.”
“Frozen or not,” I say after a laugh, “we need heat or fire if I’m to help you harvest the strands. So you might as well get comfortable. Body heat it is.”
She glances at the lamp and widens her eyes. Even without words, I know what she’s communicating.
“No lamp,” I reply, wishing I was still capable of providing light so we didn’t have to depend on that singe flame flickering in the lantern. “If it blows out, we’ll be in total darkness, and believe me, collecting fire threads from body heat isn’t something you want to do in the dark if you’re worried about touching me. Now sit back and cooperate. The faster we gather the threads, the faster you can warm yourself by a fire and not against me.” I lower my voice. “Since I’m clearly so horrible to be near. Your friend is a wretch and smells like an un-emptied chamber pot, and you chose to ride with her anyway. I’m not sure how to feel about that.”
She glares at me even harder, but I just smile.
“Come on. Stifle your pride. It’s bitter out here.” When she still hesitates, I say, “Am I truly so awful that you would rather die than be near me?”
She rolls those lovely eyes and finally relents, leaning back against me. We’re both shivering, but soon enough, the shaking eases, and I’m left completely unraveled from this simple moment of closeness with Raina Bloodgood.
To soothe herandmy nerves, I rub my hand from her wrist to her shoulder to create more heat. She feels so small beneath my touch, yet so very familiar. So very right.
I try to ignore the way my heart skips a beat when she turns in my arms, facing me, and begins doing the same to me. Her touch isn’t quite as reverent or admiring as mine, but the feel of her hands on my body…
A small wind rushes over us, chasing away the thought, and I curve around her like a shield to block it out. Once it passes, I pull back, placing a few inches between us. Unexpectedly, she relaxes against me again, quickly erasing any distance.
“Close your eyes and keep them closed,” I tell her, trying to focus enough to continue the lesson I’m supposed to be giving. “Then touch my chest. Right over my heart.”
She lifts her hand and pauses for a moment before finally resting her palm exactly as I instructed.
Gods, shemustfeel my heart racing.
“Imagine strings,” I say, hoping to distract both of us from her obvious effect on me. “That if you move your fingers delicately, like playing the harp, you can lure those strings right through my skin and into your grasp. You can do this with flames, too. Some witches, mages, and sorcerers can even harness fire threads from storms. There’s much power in the air during a storm. Heat and light. Fire threads can even be gathered using glass and sunlight. You just have to focus and summon them. They will come.”
She flutters her slender fingers against my chest, and as the connection between us forms, growing warmer and warmer, she looks up at me with surprise.
“Close your eyes, you little rebel.” A smile tempts the corner of my mouth, and a grin tugs at her lips as she obeys. “Now,fulmanesh,” I whisper.“Fulmanesh, iyuma tu lima, opressa volz nomio, retam tu shahl.Think of my heartbeat. The force of life within me. Reach for the deepest part of me. Keep strumming, just like you are now. Then close your eyes and repeat those words in your mind.Fulmanesh, iyuma tu lima, opressa volz nomio, retam tu shahl.”
Instead of repeating the words in her mind, she signs them against my chest, repeating them over and over.“Fulmanesh, iyuma tu lima, opressa volz nomio, retam tu shahl.”Fire of my heart, come that I may see you, warm my weary bones, be my place of rest.
Again, something inside me—something so dormant it’s as old as the god that hides within me—sparks to life. These words… They meant something to me at one time, something I just can’t remember. But I try. As she repeats them, signing them against my heart, gods do I try. But I don’t know what I’m looking for, and even if I did, it would still be shrouded in the shadows of centuries long past and mostly forgotten.
A broken breath shudders out of me, my hand resting on Raina’s wrist. “Do you see the threads yet?”
I need her to see them. I need her to stop tapping those words into my soul.
Thankfully, she nods.
“Good. Now give me your hand.” When I pull her fingers from my chest, Ifeelthe threads leaving me, tugging at my core. The sensation sends a shiver over my skin, like she’s tethering me to her, even though I know that isn’t what’s happening. Another broken breath escapes me, and I cup her hand in mine, palm up, blessedly stilling her fingers. “Very good. Again. In your mind only.Fulmanesh.Think it.”
Her face falls into a mask of concentration, and in seconds, a small flame bursts to life above our hands. Clearly sensing it, she opens her eyes and jerks upright, that bright stare landing on me.
I jump up, dropping the blanket in the process, and take the tinder from the tin. Squatting, I stuff the wool between two pieces of wood. “Now. This is the hard part,” I tell her. “Just send the fire over here.”
She gapes at me as though I’ve gone mad.
I stalk across the small space between us and settle behind her on my knees, cupping her hand and aiming it toward the pile of twigs. “It’s mental. Youwillthe fire where you want it to go. Like most any magick, it will do what you want once you’ve harnessed it. Think of the thing you want most in this world,” I say against her ear. “This can strengthen your magick. It’s where true power comes from. We often hold the most will for our strongest desires.”
The wind blows stronger, and a blast of snow whips through her hair, making her tremble in my arms. Suddenly, the flame flickers out.
Raina opens her eyes and turns a look over her shoulder, panic clear on her face.“I can try again,”she signs.
I can’t help but frown, but not out of disappointment. Out of confusion. “What happened? You were doing so well.”
She shakes her head and turns away from me, drawing her knees to her chest like a child.
