After the Fire (After the Fire: Book the First) (2 page)

Eleni
sank back onto her elbows, breathing hard. She didn't understand what
had just happened. The blue light had been unlike any dark creature
she had ever seen. And no creature in the forest had ever gotten the
better of her, not even as a child. The wolf approached her and began
lapping up the melted frost on her arm. She smelled burnt meat and
hair, and saw the boar's head still in her lap, now charred to a
crisp. She shoved it away and it rolled along the ground.

“You
could have warned me,” said Eleni to the wolf. She was answered
by a doleful look. She stood up. She was feeling shaky, but not as
weak as she had felt a moment ago. Her teeth still chattered, but it
wasn't the violent, desperate chattering of being slowly frozen from
the inside out. Eleni shuddered, but not from the cold. She never
wanted to feel that way again.

She
walked over to the pig carcass and hefted it up. She nearly fell, but
steadied herself. Without its head it wasn't very heavy. And she had
always been strong, especially after starting her nightly activities.
Walking slowly over to the bushes, she began to lower herself down to
pick up the bundle of smaller prey, but the wolf slid under her and
grasped the bundle lightly in her jaw. Eleni sighed with relief. She
didn't know if she'd be able to stand back up with the weight of the
pig on her shoulder. The wolf started moving back toward the village.
It would be dawn soon.

As
they approached the village she felt the prickle of eyes upon her.
The wolf growled as they spotted an oddly-shaped silhouette in the
clearing. At first Eleni thought it was another creature from the
forest, but then it moved and she realized it was a person leading a
horse. Krasna's last horse had died ten winters ago, so it was not
one from the village. He had seen her, though, whoever he was; she
felt it. She gauged the distance to the gate.
She could make it past the figure quickly if she
dropped the boar. She still felt too weak to attempt to run with the
weight on her shoulder. She thought about going back into the forest,
but one look at the sky told her that was not a choice. It wasn't
about her. If she wasn't back by dawn... She didn't want to think
about what could happen.

Eleni
made a fist and felt the familiar pressure. She could still defend
herself. Her power was weaker than usual, but it was still there. The
wolf was standing, still as a statue, at her side, staring at the
figure coming across the clearing.

“You
are quiet,” Eleni said to the wolf. The wolf looked at her, the
bundle still in her mouth, the golden eyes calm. The figure
approached them. Eleni could smell wind and rain and horse sweat,
could hear the quiet padding of hooves on the soft grass. The man was
big. Bigger than Cosmin, the biggest man in the village. She put her
hand out in front of her when he approached.

He
had a bushy beard and wore a strange, thick cloth around his waist,
his leather boots coming up to his knees. He was thick and strong by
the way he walked, and under the brim of a woolen hat Eleni could see
his eyes sparkling. He smiled.

“That's
something you don't see every day,” he said. He had an accent
Eleni didn't recognize. It wasn't from the south, where Eleni's
mother was from. And it was very different from the villagers' drawl,
more clipped and guttural. Eleni glared at him suspiciously. The man
looked down at the wolf, who was being eerily quiet. He looked back
to Eleni. “Are you all right?”

“I'm
fine,” said Eleni. Her teeth chattered and she cursed herself
inwardly. “Are you a Reiver?”

“Do
I look like a Reiver?”
said the man.

“I
don't know,” said Eleni. “I've never seen one.”

“Then
how do you know they exist?” said the man. His horse snorted
and he let go of the rope. The horse took a few steps nearby and
began to graze on the grass.

“Because
Reivers
stole our sheep,” said Eleni. It felt odd to be talking to
another person. The only other person that said more than a few words
to her was Alin.

“Your
sheep?” said the man. “Your family's?”

“They
belong to my village,” she said.

The
man took off his hat. His hair was dark and mussed. “I'm not a
Reiver,”
he said. “I was looking for something, but I lost it.” He
frowned. “Where are your clothes?”

Eleni
looked down at herself. The weight of the boar's carcass on her
shoulder was making her ache. She could feel the morning coming. Any
second now the light would be coming over the mountain. “I have
to go,” she said. She started edging around him.

“Wait,”
he said. “I won't hurt you. Here,” he said. He took off
his thick, woven outer coat. He took a step toward her. She made a
fist and a ball of flame appeared in her hand when she opened it. The
man stopped. His eyes shone in the morning light. He looked from
Eleni's hand to her face.

“You
can't hurt me,” said Eleni. “Men have tried before.”

The
man's voice was quiet when he spoke. “I don't want to hurt you.
I just want to give you my coat. You're shivering.”

“I'm
not cold,” she said defensively. “There was something in
the forest. It got inside me.”

The
man raised his eyebrows. “Was it blue?”

“Yes,”
said Eleni.

He
stared at her. He rubbed his beard with his knuckles. “No one
has ever survived a
strago
,” he said. “It took me
out of my way. I've been tracking it for several days now. How did
you get it out?”

“I
didn't,” said Eleni, still edging away. “I burned it. It
died.”

“While
it was inside of you?” said the man. “You can do that?”

“I
can do many things,” said Eleni. “Right now I'm leaving.”

“I
could come with you,” said the man.

“No,
” said Eleni, stopping and staring at him. “You cannot
come. Don't follow me. They will hurt her if I bring you back. They
might hurt you, too. Please stay away. I'll burn you if I have to.”

The
man raised his hands and took a step back. “All right. I don't
want to get you into trouble. But please. Take the coat.” He
held it out to her.

“Why?”
said Eleni.

“Because
it will give you comfort,” said the man, as if baffled by the
question. “When you're cold, you bundle up.”

“I've
never been cold before,” said Eleni. “I don't like it.”
She closed her fist and willed the fire back inside her body. She
took the garment he held out to her. It was scratchy and still warm
from his body.

“Where
are your clothes?” he said. “Do they burn off?”

“No,”
said Eleni. “They take them.”

“In
your village?” said the man. “That seems unkind.”

Eleni
didn't say anything. She felt a movement at her side and the wolf was
nudging her hand with the prey from the night. Eleni took it and the
wolf bounded away, towards the woods.

“You
trained it well,” said the man.

“
She
is not trained,” said Eleni. “She usually tries to rip
the throats out of anything that moves. I don't know why she likes
you.” A bell clanged behind the high wall of the village. “I
have to go. Please, don't let them see you.”

“They
call me Fin,” he called after her as she hurried toward the
village. She didn't look back as she rushed home, her back and legs
aching, and her chest sore and tender where the
strago
had
been. She made it to the iron wall just as the bell stopped clanging.
She dropped the boar thankfully on the ground outside the gate. An
old man's head peeked over.

“You're
late,” he said.

“I
brought a boar,” Eleni said.

“You'd
better get inside before he notices,” said Sabin. “You
know how mad he gets when you're late.”

Eleni
glowered at him, but walked briskly around the wall, her long legs
feeling light without the weight of the pig, until she came to an
opening. She walked into her iron box, the smell of metal heavy in
the tiny, square space, and dropped heavily onto her straw cot. The
metal squealed as someone began to lower the outer hatch. Eleni had
one final glimpse out towards the forest and saw the outline of a man
leading a horse away, towards the rising sun. She thought she saw him
stop and turn to look towards her just as the hatch clanged shut and
she was left in darkness.

Chapter
Two

Fin
dismounted his horse, Epona, and handed the reins to a boy who ran up
when he arrived. Fin forgot what his name was, but the boy beamed up
at him, eager for any chore he could get. Fin ruffled his hair and
left him to the task, making a beeline for the dwelling at the center
of the camp.

“Fin!”
said a high voice, just as a small girl latched herself onto his leg.
“You came back!”

Fin
lifted her up and smiled at her. She was so thin she barely weighed
anything. He frowned for a moment as he saw the malnourishment in the
bruises under her eyes and the way the skin stretched on a face far
too young to have any right to know of such things. He remembered
himself and smiled again.

“I
could never leave you, Rika,” he said, making her beam. He set
her gently on the ground. They must have gone through their stores of
dried mutton. “Here, have the rest of this,” he said,
handing her a pouch from his hip. He crouched down. “Don't tell
your father, now,” he said, putting a finger to his lips.
“He'll try to give that to your brother. That's for you, you
hear?”

The
tiny wisp of a girl nodded excitedly and ran off with the pouch of
stale bread and hard cheese. He saw her duck behind a large tree at
the edge of the encampment. She needed it far more than he did. He
saw Elek sitting on a log stoking a fire. Elek locked eyes with him
and smiled, his eyes cold and almost daring Fin to act.

It
was their way. The men were the kings of their castles, or at least
their tents, and the women took care of the men. The children were an
afterthought. Fin thought of his own mother, her memory still raw. If
anyone ever denied her food, they would have had to answer to him. If
he had a small crumb of food, he would gladly give it to her, or to
any of his sisters; even his brother. He didn't understand the ways
of these people. But it was not his place to interfere. Magda
depended on them, for whatever reason.

“Tell
me,” she said, rising with difficulty when he entered her tent.
She had aged more in the last twenty years than the entire time he
had known her. She had always looked old, but lately she had started
to look hunched and frail. Her hair still hung in a braid down her
back, though the plait grew thinner every time he saw her. Parts of
her scalp showed through her hair. Fin wondered how long she could
last without her sisters.

“All
dead,” said Fin. He found it hard to say the words without a
tremor in his voice. He took Magda's elbow and helped her to sit back
down on the cot. The women had raised it up with flat rocks so Magda
wouldn't struggle to get up and down. Fin sat next to her and Magda
laid a cool hand on his arm.

“I'm
sorry,” she said.

He
made himself smile, though it was almost painful. “It's not
important right now,” he said. He took her cold, thin hand in
his.

“I
may be old, but I'm not blind, Alaunus,” she said, blinking at
him with her good eye. “Not completely anyway. Not yet. There
is pain in you. They were your kin. You need time to mourn.”

“I
need time to find out what is happening,” said Fin, the smile
gone from his lips. He felt a hollow in his chest, a numbness that he
had only felt with grief. “Can you see anything?”

Magda
let go of his hand and clasped her own together. “My Sight is
fading,” she said. “I need to find my sisters. I fear I
am dying. Without them, I am nothing. You heard nothing of Danai in
the islands? Of Anja?”

“Nothing,”
said Fin. “But there is something else.”

“Good
news, I hope,” said Magda. “I cannot bear more bad news.
I feel my heart is breaking.”

“I
cannot be sure,” said Fin, “but I think I found Zaric.”

Magda's
good eye grew wide, the cloudy green clearing and blazing at him like
a brilliant emerald. “In the islands?” she said, grasping
his arm again. “Where?”

Fin
smiled, and this time it didn't hurt him to do so. It felt good to
deliver good news, however unsure it was. He felt the hollow in his
chest pain him a little less, the burden not quite so heavy. “Nowhere
near as far,” he said.

Magda
frowned. “Speak, boy. Tell me your news.”

“Just
on the other side of these woods,” said Fin. “Not more
than a day's walk from here.”

Magda
stared at him in disbelief. “Are you sure?”

Fin
shook his head. “No. But it's something.”

“Who
is he?”

“Not
a he,” said Fin. “A she. A
girl. Or, rather, a young woman. I met her as
she was returning to her village. It was the first village I have
seen in these woods since the fire. Completely surrounded with an
iron fence.”

Magda
snorted. “As if that will do them good.”

“I
do not think they even realize why they are safe. If I am right, it
isn't the iron that the dark creatures fear. It's the girl.”

“What
was she like?” said Magda. “Did she look like him?”

Fin
shook his head. “No. Not a bit. She's a small thing, with long
hair as red as the fire she wields.”

“You
sound smitten,” said Magda with a knowing eye. “Be
careful, my dear.”

“Not
smitten,” said Fin. “She intrigues me. She was like a
wild thing. She traveled with a wolf, a big black one. It must have
stood nearly to her shoulder. It seemed to obey her, or at least be
comfortable with her. And she killed a
strago
.”

“Oh?”
said Magda, surprised.

“After
it was inside her chest,” said Fin, still impressed.