Page 62 of Keeper of the Flame: Orrick

“Hope, you are not making any sense.” Frustration showed on his face.

She could see his aggravation as he donned his tunic with more force than was needed. If she didn’t explain herself soon, this magical moment was going to end up ruined. Hope wasn’t sure how angry with her he’d be when she told him the news, but she could no longer keep it from him. Not when he thought Noah stole the flame and the poor boy was going to take the brunt of her action.

“What I’m trying to tell you is that Noah didn’t steal the flame.”

“How would you know that?” He looked at her, furrowing his brow.

“I know because I was right here in the room when it was taken from the hearth.”

“You know where I hid it?”

“I do. I know because I accidentally took it when I lit the candle from the fire at the hearth.”

“God’s eyes, Hope! Are you telling me that you are the Keeper of the Flame?”

She bit her lip and nodded slightly, waiting for him to explode. But instead of being angry, he smiled.

“Orrick?” she asked, not sure what he was doing when he came toward her like a lion stalking its prey. “Orrick, are you angry with me?”

“I love you,” he said, laughing, picking her up and spinning her around.

She laughed, too, still not quite understanding his actions. “I love you, too, Orrick. But why aren’t you angry with me?”

“I’m just happy that it wasn’t Noah who stole it. I’m not thrilled about what you did, but at least you ended up telling me the truth. The short time I lived without being the Keeper was like a breath of fresh air in my life. It let me remember what it felt like to be mortal, and I discovered that I miss it. I’m also grateful that it didn’t get into the wrong hands. Like the hands of that wretched Lord Irwin.”

He put her down and looked at her, suddenly seeming concerned. “Hope, where did you hide the flame? I hope it isn’t somewhere that Lord Irwin could have found it.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” she told him, heading over to the hearth. “I hid it in the safest spot there was. I put it right back here in your own hearth.”

“Wonderful,” he said, walking over to the fire. “Now all I need to do is transfer the fire from the hearth and I again will be the Keeper of the Flame.”

He looked around and picked up a candle lying on a shelf. Then he poked the taper into the hearth and lit it.

“Is it done?” she asked, her heart pounding rapidly in her chest.

“I think so,” he said, looking down to his hand. “Let’s find out for sure.” With his free hand, he pulled off the bandage. But when he did, his mouth turned down into a frown.

“What’s the matter?” asked Hope.

“I’m not healing. I always used to heal immediately before. I don’t understand this.”

“Mayhap it takes a while. Or mayhap you didn’t get enough of the flame,” she suggested. “Try it again.”

“All right,” he said, sticking the taper back into the fire. He looked at his wounds again but to Hope’s dismay, they weren’t healing. “It’s not working,” he spat. “Something is wrong.” He blew out the candle and it did not relight. Then he went over to the flame and stuck his hand into the fire on the heath, letting out a groan and pulling his hand back quickly.

“Arrrrgh,” he moaned. “I’m not immune to the fire. The Eternal Flame is not coming to me.” He turned and looked at her. “Stick your hand in the fire and see if you get burned.”

“What?” she gasped, holding her arms around her. “Nay, I don’t want to do that.”

“Hope, we have to know if the Eternal Flame is still in the hearth or not.”

“Then I’ll show you how to find out and it is far from purposely sticking my hand in fire.” She hurried over to the washbasin, coming back with water and throwing it onto the fire. The fire smoked and, to her horror, the flame extinguished.

“God’s eyes, this cannot be happening.” Orrick ran his hand through his hair and paced the room.

“So what does this mean?” she asked.

“It means that while we were out, someone snuck into my room and stole the Eternal Flame.”