Wonderful customer service, I thought dryly.
“I’m looking for an elf named Lilia. Is she here?” I asked.
His brow knitted together. “She was, but she left a few minutes ago. Or was it an hour? Hard to keep track of the time, if I’m being honest.”
I sidled closer, fists clenching. “I need you to do better than that. Was it a few minutes or was it an hour?” Because if Lilia had left that long ago, she should have made it back to the inn by now. And I hadn’t passed her along the way.
She could be wandering the streets. She could be lost in the haze.
Lilia could be hurt.
“Oh.” The shadow demon’s eyes flicked down to my fisted hands. “Well, if you insist I clarify, then…” He pursed his lips and cocked his head. “It was closer to an hour. I think.”
“Thanks.” I jogged down the stairs and ignited the power I normally kept at a low smolder. The heat of my internal flames burned through me, dusting forth plumes of steam from the rain dousing my skin. My eyes caught the burn, illuminating the hazy street before me.
I clenched my jaw and strode through the storm, casting my brightened gaze around me, searching for any sign of a silver-haired elf. The power tore through me, hot and unyielding; it bubbled beneath my skin. I could only use this power for moments at a time before it threatened to burn me up completely.
“Lilia!” I shouted, breaking out into a run.
The wind hammered me from all sides. Rain pounded into my face, and that aching fire shuddered through me.
“Lilia!” I shouted again.
A soft voice answered. I might have missed it if I hadn’t drawn upon my power.
I rounded the next corner. Another gust of wind slammed into me, and I staggered to the side.
“Ragnar?”
Peering into the dark, my fire-lit gaze fell upon a girl huddled in a doorframe, teeth chattering. She’d pressed herself up against the wall beneath an awning, though the wind still berated her. A tangle of silver hair spilled out beneath her hooded cloak. Her cheeks had turned a wicked shade of blue.
I rushed forward and gathered her into my arms. I expected her to protest and insist I put her down. But no objection came. And so I wrapped my heat around her, and I carried her back to the inn.
14
LILIA
After a very cold and very wet slosh to the inn, the hot bath was a welcome distraction from Ragnar’s ember eyes and his soothingly warm body. Like Wyndale, Riverwold was blessed with running water. Galdur magic ran through the very bones of Hearthaven. Every Midsummer, the island gifted its residents with what often felt like impossible things—like water that came from a spout. And so it had taken mere moments for Nilsa to fill the rickety tin tub with hot, soapy water after Ragnar had swept me to safety, like some kind of knight from a storybook tale.
At the thought of him, I ducked lower in the tub. It was embarrassing, really. I’d gotten turned around in the rain-drenched darkness, and then I’d taken shelter beneath an awning. Soon, the cold had numbed every inch of me.
A heavy knock came from the door. Frowning, I ignored it at first. Nilsa likely had questions. Questions I very much didn’t want to answer right now.
But the voice that called out was distinctly rough and much deeper than Nilsa’s. “Lilia? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I answered Ragnar, my voice near a squeak.
A pause. “Is the water warm enough? I can boil some in the kitchen and bring it up.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Can I come in?” came his reply.
“Excuse me?”
“I won’t look,” he said, clearing his throat. “But I want to talk to you, and shouting through this door isn’t particularly enjoyable. Besides, I think everyone downstairs can hear what I’m saying.”
He wasn’t wrong. The inn’s bathing chamber was only one floor up from the taproom, which would be crowded during a storm like this. The Elding would have driven most of the merchants and newly-arrived visitors inside. They’d be clamoring for warm food in their bellies, the heat of the ever-burning hearth, and some ale to wash it all down. Unfortunately, they wouldn’t find any here.
