03] ES) Firestorm (23 page)

Peta pushed him away and dropped her face to mine. “Lark, draw from me.”

I knew the pain would transfer to her, and I wasn’t willing to do that. I couldn’t manage much more than the one word.

“No.”

She let out a soft cry and lowered herself to the ground beside me, but spoke over her shoulder. “I will carry her.”

Hands lifted me, cracking the skin on my back yet again, the warm blood oozing down my sides and into Peta’s fur as they laid me on her back, still face down. In my head, I knew she couldn’t possibly move smoother than a stretcher held by two people, yet I didn’t feel her steps. She dropped into a stalking crouch and crept forward, her paws barely rising from the ground. I rolled in and out of consciousness, my nerve endings driving the pain deeper into my body. I couldn’t stop the twitching of my muscles as I fought the agony that wanted to break me. In that moment, I understood that was the full purpose of the lashing—not just to wound me, or kill me, but ultimately break my spirit—to bring me to my knees and make me pliable to Fiametta’s will.

“Bring her in.”

I lifted my eyes. We were back at Brand’s home, and Smoke directed Peta to take me to my room.

“No, not here.”

Peta gave a low growl. “You have no choice. The healers are still sleeping.” I doubted that. More likely that Fiametta refused to allow them to help me. For just a moment my anger overwhelmed the pain, giving me a brief second of relief.

The relief evaporated like my sweat as Cactus tucked his hands under my shoulders and Brand took hold of my feet.

As careful as they were when they moved me from Peta’s back to the bed, I couldn’t stop the sharp cry from my lips. I blacked out, the fiery pain driving straight through my consciousness, cutting me off from the world in a fogged haze.

A soft hand on my brow brought me around and I turned my head, pressing my cheek into the silken sheet below me. “Smoke.”

“Shh. You must rest. I have something for your back. It will draw the heat out but . . . it will be very painful.”

I tried to turn so I could see her face but she pressed her hand against my head. “Lark, you must not move. You will be scarred as it is, but every time you move, you make it worse.”

My entire view consisted of: the pale blue sheets, Peta’s green eyes as she sat in her housecat form beside me with her tail wrapped around my neck, and the grey stone of the far wall. I kept my breathing shallow and my voice low. “Do it, Smoke. If it means I will heal faster, then do it.”

“The wrap will take an hour to prepare. Rest and whatever you do, don’t move,” she said and walked away, her footsteps fading. The sounds of the household were dim, humming in my ears with the drone of a beehive. Peta stiffened. “Lark, he’s coming.”

“Who?” I mumbled the question, the pain causing a weird drowsy state I couldn’t seem to fight. Peta’s head dropped forward and she let out a long, low hiss as her eyes closed.

Footsteps, the sound of the door opening and then the flash of a black cloak along the edges of my vision. “Dear Larkspur, that bitch really did a number on you, didn’t she?”

He dropped into a crouch so he could look me in the eye, except that his cloak hid his facial features from me. I knew nothing except he was a man, and part of the reason I had the lashing. If he hadn’t taken the papers from me I could have made a case that the Enders were not fatally injured. That they’d been wounded, but that was all.

The pain made my tongue loosen. “What did you do to my cat?”

“She’s sleeping, like everyone else here. You know, the Salamanders are a foolishly proud group. They think they are safe here in their little mountain. But I’ll tell you a secret. . . they aren’t. They have enemies. The firewyrms hate them with a passion.”

“You made them enemies, didn’t you?”

He gave me a wink. “Maybe I did help it along a little.”

“And you are making the Salamanders sleep.”

Laughing, he nodded. “Yes, it makes the queen twitchy. And of course, I was the one who finished off the Enders. You must have guessed that by now.”

I blinked several times, unable to nod.

He laughed and leaned forward. “I like you, Larkspur. I always have. I wish I could trust you.” With one hand, he reached out and touched my nose. On his middle finger was a deep red chunk of ruby set into a silver band. Lines of power flickered around it as though it were alive. It could only be one thing: the elemental stone that controlled fire.

“Nice ring, your momma give it to you?” I slurred.

“As a matter of fact, she did. Quite the woman my mother was.” He withdrew his hand and tipped his head to one side. “You’ll be leaving after this little fiasco?”

I tried to think what the point would be in lying to him. Why would I stay now? Fiametta proclaimed Ash and I could leave, and Cactus and Peta were free to go as well, as far as I knew. I vaguely recalled Belladonna saying goodbye. That the Rim needed her. No reason to say, and yet, I wanted to cover my ass in case something slowed me.

“Unless someone forces my hand, yes, I’ll be leaving as soon as I heal,” I murmured.

“Ah, lovely, just lovely. You’ll leave Fiametta to me then. I like that. Sorry about the bridge earlier. I was under the impression you were helping Fia—by the way, love the nickname you gave her—to straighten things out here. Can’t have that, now can I?”

My tongue was thick and all I wanted was a drink. A long, cold drink. “Water.”

“Oh, of course. Here.” He held out his hand, and in his palm, water pooled, clear as a river coursing from the top of a mountain. He held his hand to my mouth and another time I would have hesitated, questioned his seeming kindness. But the fire in me burned hot, devouring the moisture in my body at a rate I didn’t think I could keep up. He tipped his hand and the water trickled into my mouth at a steady rate until I turned my face away. “Enough.”

He stood, took one step away and then stopped. “May I make a suggestion, Larkspur?”

I stared up at him, wondering if he really was asking. The whole conversation felt like he’d just wanted to talk. Which was weird at best. “Only if you tell me your name.”

“Ah, yes, everyone wants to know my name. You can call me Blackbird. On account of the black cloak.”

Internally, I struggled with what to do. He was an Undine, wearing a ring that gave him power of a Salamander. How the hell was I supposed to stop him? And did I even want to?

“Did I meet you when I was in the Deep?” I spit the question out as I tried to place him. He shook his head.

“We’ve met, Larkspur, and I like you. But you will never, ever guess who I am.” He slapped his hand onto my back, his fingers burying into my soft, tender flesh, blood oozing out. My back arched and I screamed as he dug his fingers deeper into the wound.

“I’m doing this for your own good. You’ll thank me later. And if you care to blame anyone, blame the mother goddess. She asked me to heal you and that is the only reason I do what I do for you. I am sworn to her.”

At least that was what I thought he said; I struggled to hear anything over my own howls into the air. His hand seemed to sink through what was left of the flesh on my back and to my bones, his fingers sliding along my spine.

I couldn’t even lash out at him. My body convulsed with pain to the point of being stunned. A rolling, crushing wave that stole my ability to breathe, think, or even consider anything beyond my next heartbeat and wondering if it would stop and the pain would end.

As suddenly as it began, he took his hand away, bent and put his lips next to my ear. “I’m sorry your back is not pristine as it was. I cannot heal what is no longer there, and Fiametta didn’t leave me much to work with.” He pressed his cheek against mine. “Leave tomorrow, Larkspur. Or I will make you wish Fiametta had her lava whip again.”

He kissed me on the cheek and with a swirl of his cloak was gone.

I sat up and took a few steps after him before I realized what I was doing. Freezing in place I lifted my arms. My left arm had been burned badly, but now there was no pain.

Behind me, Peta yowled and leapt to the floor, her tiny feet sounding more like she was in her leopard form. “Lark, your back, it’s healed. How can that be? What happened?”

Wobbling as I turned, I shook my head. “The one in the cloak, he did it.”

“The one who tried to drop the bridge out from under you? That makes no sense.”

I put a hand to my head. “No, it doesn’t.”

Weak, exhausted from the lashing and subsequent healing, I lay back down on the bed. “Peta, get Cactus and Ash. Tell them we leave as soon as I wake.”

She nodded and I closed my eyes so I might have imagined the rough-tongued lick across my forehead.

I sunk into a sleep so deep, I knew it was not just fatigue, or pain induced. No, this was something more.

I’d felt her touch before, and knew it well.

The mother goddess wanted to speak to me. Which was just as well since I had a few questions for her.

“
arkspur.” That one word shivered down my spine, the power she held in each syllable of my name, a visceral thing. There was no warmth in her voice, not like before. She called to me and I was forced to answer.

Blinking, I sat up. We were in the Rim, the towering redwoods swaying lightly in the breeze. Low hanging clouds flowed through the boughs of cedar, but unlike the normal white, they spread in pale purple filaments that seemed to cling to everything. The mother goddess stood next to the biggest redwood in the forest, the sides of it easily reaching fifteen feet to either side of her. The dark red color of the trunk offset the soft cream dress the mother goddess wore, her long pale gold hair a shade lighter than mine. A part of me was disturbed that she always chose to come to me in the guise of my own, long dead mother.

I bowed my head. “Mother.”

“Child, you have saved Ash from death. Well done.” Her hand touched the top of my head.

Questions bubbled up on my tongue and I struggled to figure out where to start.

“Just say the words as they come, Larkspur.” She spoke quietly, but with authority and I stopped trying to think too much about what I had to say.

“The man in the cloak, he calls himself Blackbird. Why would you tell him to heal me? He’s an asshole.” Okay, maybe that was a bit too bold for conversing with a goddess, but I had to know. I lifted my head a fraction of an inch so I could look up at her.

Her eyes were closed as if deep in thought.

“He is my child, as are you. He serves me in his own way, though you will not understand his part in your life until your journey is close to an end. The balance must be kept. For everything good, there is something vile.” There was a heavy pause as she drew in a deep breath. “And now I will ask of you one more thing, a task I know you will fight. A task you perhaps have already guessed.”

Shivers of fear trickled through me. Her words were enough to set me on edge and send my mind into a whirling maelstrom of questions. “I am your servant,” I whispered.

“You will stay in the Pit and save the firewyrms.”

“Why don’t you just stop Fiametta? What could I possibly do that would be better than you showing up and putting her in her place?”