Page 25 of Ash and Burn

She stared at the coin slot, realizing with mild embarrassment that she had no local currency. Before she could figure out an alternative, a warm voice spoke behind her.

"Need some coins?"

Arvid turned to find a petite woman with long black hair and bright green eyes that seemed to sparkle with perpetual mischief. Jewelry adorned her fingers and wrists, creating tiny musical sounds when she moved, and her smile held the kind of genuine warmth that immediately put people at ease.

"I'm Lyssi," the woman said, pressing several coins into Arvid's palm. "Calix's cousin. And you must be Arvid—the human scientist here to help Dorn and his team stop Ash Fever."

"That's me." Arvid accepted the coins gratefully. "I appreciate this. I hadn't thought about the currency situation."

"Calix mentioned you'd arrived yesterday." Lyssi's eyes held a knowing gleam that made Arvid wonder exactly what Calix had shared. "I'm grateful you said yes to coming here. We've all been so worried, especially after little Essin got sick."

The mention of the young girl from yesterday sent a sharp pang through Arvid's chest. She thought of Essin's disappointment about missing her First Rising, about the trust in those young eyes when Arvid had promised to help.

"I'm going to do everything I can," Arvid said, meaning it completely.

Lyssi seemed to sense her urgency. "Well, I'll let you get to work then. I'm sure I'll see you around."

Alone again, Arvid purchased a wrapped pastry and coffee that smelled surprisingly familiar. She settled at a table surrounded by other medical staff eating their breakfast, turned her attention to the datapad, and dove into Dorn's meticulously organized files.

Fifteen minutes later, the data painted a troubling picture, but not in the way she'd expected. Ash Fever wasn't randomly distributed across Ashvorn's population. Instead, it clustered heavily in specific districts—primarily areas where working-class citizens lived and worked. The Commons district showed the highest concentration of cases, followed by portions of the Hearthring district. Meanwhile, the wealthy Rimward district reported significantly fewer infections.

Arvid cross-referenced patient addresses with their listed occupations. Merchants, crafters, laborers, apprentice healers—all showing elevated infection rates. But wealthy estate owners, council members, and noble families remained largely unaffected.

Environmental exposure, her mind concluded immediately.

Something the working population encountered regularly that the wealthy didn't.

She pushed back from the table and made her way back to the lab, finding Dorn's small office tucked into the corner of the lab. When she entered, he looked up from his own datapad, hope and apprehension warring in his expression.

"I've reviewed your notes," Arvid said without preamble. "This is definitely something environmental. The demographic distribution is too clear to be coincidental."

Dorn leaned forward. "We tested the water systems extensively. Multiple samples from different districts and different sources. Nothing was contaminated there."

"What about other environmental factors? Food sources, building materials, local vegetation?"

"The main components we use throughout Ashvorn are pyrestone for construction and ember grass for various applications." Dorn rubbed his temples. "We tested both. Neither showed any harmful properties—pyrestone actually has some beneficial mineral content and ember grass has been used safely for generations."

Arvid's military training kicked in, the same pattern recognition skills that had helped her identify contamination sources in conflict zones. "What do people in the working districts do that the wealthy don't usually do? Where do they go that council members and nobles typically avoid?"

"The Commons market," Dorn said slowly. "It's where most working families buy their daily necessities, their food, and their supplies. And where they gather for communal events."

A memory surfaced—Calix mentioning yesterday that Dorn had restricted his diet, preventing him from eating or drinking anything from the public market. The king of Ashvorn, who should theoretically have the greatest exposure to his people and their environments, was being carefully isolated from market goods and communal events.

"I need to see that market," Arvid said, standing abruptly.

Excitement flickered in Dorn's tired eyes. "You think it's something there?"

Arvid's pulse quickened with the familiar thrill of a breakthrough forming on the horizon. "I'm not sure, but it seems like the first logical place to check."

TEN

CALIX

The pyrestone pathways of Ashvorn radiated familiar warmth beneath Calix's boots, yet this morning the ancient volcanic stones felt foreign against his soles. Ashspire had always anchored him—eleven generations of Silvanus blood had walked the same corridors, ruled from those same chambers, and protected the Undying Flame that burned eternal on the Vael Terrace. The estate represented continuity, legacy, everything that mattered about his bloodline and his duty to Ashvorn. But today, even the comfort of home felt wrong in ways that made his chest tight with tension.

Because last night, fifteen years of careful control had disintegrated.

When Arvid first arrived and the mate bond had activated like lightning through his system, Calix had convinced himself he could compartmentalize the connection. Manage it. Keep his focus locked on duty while acknowledging the bond existed without letting it consume him. He'd survived his father's death, Dael's death, and Sarah's betrayal—he could survive one human woman disrupting his equilibrium.