Drowning in Fire (37 page)

He watched her eyes widen as she finally realized his plan. The humbled, overwhelmed woman disappeared. The confident, steadfast woman stood before him now, and he couldn’t have asked for a better partner.

She came closer to his watery shape, blowing orange flame across one palm and holding it out to him. “Let me do it.”

Griffin nodded his liquid head.

She touched him, her burning hand pressed to his wobbling, translucent chest. The heat from her fire, her magic, turned him to steam. It was a far different feeling, to have it done to him rather than doing it himself. It was an incredible feeling, one he wanted to experience again and again.

He gently entwined himself around her whole body. Curling his molecules next to her ear, he thought
I would do anything for you
. She sagged as though she’d actually heard him. Maybe she had.

Reluctant to leave, but resolved to help her, he peeled the steam away from her skin and floated toward the crack. Flattening himself into a long, thin stream, he slipped into the narrow fissure and instantly surrounded himself with dark. With earth and rock. With unadulterated magic. The world around him was shadowed and craggy, the lava rock slicing off at harsh angles, turning directions without sense, making his path crooked and dangerous. Even though he wanted to zoom ahead at full speed, he had to go slowly or else risk being drawn too thin or being broken apart. There were limits to his power; time was one of them, and the careful pace set him on edge, made him worry about how much energy he’d have left for the return trip.

From somewhere deep, deep down in the blackness, the Source sensed his presence. Maybe it knew he was water. It blasted against him. Intense heat and stormy magic sent out constant shocks. They pulsed against him like giant waves and he was the tiny minnow trying to swim against the riptide. He had to pull his steam body along as much as thrust it forward, and, like when he’d been tracking Keko across the Big Island, it drained his magic exponentially.

He kept going, kept driving on, without any indication of how far he had to burrow into the heart of the earth. He couldn’t think about it because turning back wasn’t an option. Every second brought increased heat, more treacherous maneuvering, and the dizzying counterstrength of pure, untouched fire magic.

All of a sudden, the narrow, twisting passage exploded into openness. A vast cavern yawned in the shape of a near perfect circle, a separate contained universe hidden deep in the bowels of the planet . . . complete with its own brilliant, pulsating, dangerous sun.

Only this was no sun. This was the Fire Source—a giant, blistering orb of white, with tongues and whips of blue and sparkling silver snapping out like poisonous snakes trapped behind wire. They left tiny floating flecks of flame in their wake, which flared on their own for a second or two, then died. The Source was a living thing, an amorphous beast contained in an elastic shape, constantly pushing against its constraints. It reeked of danger and power.

Griffin hovered at the circumference of the cavern, awed and petrified over what glowed before him. It was astounding that something like this existed in a human world, on the human plane. It had been born with this planet, not brought here like his own people. It would die when the Earth did. Or vice versa.

That was all the time he allowed himself to think. He had something else to do.

When he’d taken Keko beneath the ocean’s surface and encapsulated her in magic water, he’d sensed her trying to release her fire. The water wouldn’t let her. His element hadn’t killed hers, it just . . . contained it.

He had to trust in that same principle here.

The Source pulsed in a great, uneven heartbeat. It seemed to grow more and more agitated by the second, Griffin’s presence feeding and affecting it. It knew something had infiltrated its lair and it was merely biding its time before unleashing its weapons, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. It was a dragon—a chimera—stalking and teasing its prey.

Death churned inside that thing. Hope, too. And they were all tied together by faith.

Those blue and white flames continued to loop out from the surface of the Source like the solar flares in the Earth’s sun. They stretched and bowed then snapped back, leaving remnant flecks floating in the air, glowing in their wake. Griffin watched them greedily.

Then he saw his opportunity. Perhaps his only one. He prayed—to the stars, to Keko’s Queen, to whomever might be listening—that it would be enough.

A bolt of crackling blue flame shot out—straight for where he’d flattened his particles against the wall. It wanted to dissolve him. To destroy him. The whip of fire snapped before it reached him, leaving behind a web of tiny blue-white motes—pure specks of magic no longer attached to the Source itself. Residual fire just lingering in space.

His for the taking.

Before another flare could stretch for him, he ballooned his steam out from the wall. Sent it looping around a flickering blue remnant no larger than a pebble. He grabbed it, encased it as he had Keko’s body. Stole it.

Here in this cavern of extreme heat and elemental fire, Griffin fought for control of his own magic. Digging deeper into his power than he’d ever dug before, he forced the steam immediately surrounding the live spark into liquid, wrapping it in a dense bubble cage.

The fire sputtered but held. Weakened but did not die.

There was no time to worry or think or do anything else other than run. He gathered up the floating, translucent particles of himself, cradled and cushioned the speck of the Source inside his magic, and fled back through the crack.

The Source did not like that at all.

The cavern and passage walls vibrated, throwing Griffin’s already tenuous form against the rocks, threatening to break him apart and loose the treasure he carried. A great cloud of heat and smoke screamed at his back, the soundless voice of a mother who’d had one of her many children ripped from her bosom.

He would not be deterred. He would not let it go. This thing he stole belonged to Keko—this infinitesimal bit of fire—and she would use it for the noblest of purposes.

Tightening the hold on the fire speck, he pushed harder. Raced up through the quaking, narrow passages. The planet felt ripped off its axis, gravity and direction meaning absolutely nothing. Still, he flew. Zoomed. Faster and faster.

Hot fire consumed his trail. Not just heat or threats anymore, but actual liquid lava, scorching rock, and attacking flame. They all chased him down. He may not be made of fire, but he had still caused an eruption.

He zigged and zagged, concentrating hard on keeping his magic whole, on keeping the fleck safe and alive. Tremors hunted him, wielding the Source’s weapons, but he could feel the air getting fresher up ahead. It fed him energy. He pushed on. And then . . . light.

It refracted off the rock lining the sides of the fissure. It pierced his vapor and the bubble and struck the fire fragment, making it come alive, turning it into a starburst. He clutched it, feeling the magic trying to get out but unable to release through his water.

It seemed to call to the Source, too—a child to its mother—and the Source answered with a burst of heat and flame that actually pushed Griffin the final few yards up and out of the entrance, sending him soaring between the halves of the great split rock, shooting high above the island.

The sky was a dazzling, blinding sheet of blue above, and the island below was a quivering black mass of lava rock, crumbling and cracking like an egg from the force of the Source’s expulsion. The ocean immediately surrounding the island rippled, billowing blooms of white rising up from underneath.

He saw Keko, a dark figure being thrown about on the small, quaking mound of land in the middle of the water, trying to keep her balance as the rock shifted. Nem was still there, screaming death threats, but only for a moment longer. The island gave a great heave and Keko tumbled to the side, thrown to the ground. She must have lost control of her magic because the circle of fire around and below Nem suddenly died. And then, barely a second later, he was gone. Sunk back into the shaking, breaking earth.

Griffin made sure the fire speck was still safe and zoomed down to Keko. Ash belched from the bowels of the earth, the distinct odor of sulfur and the tang of hidden fire consuming everything. Steam and black smoke poured out of the fissure now, and he shot through it. Even in the growing murk he could find her. He would always be able to find her.

As he drew closer, Keko pulled herself to her feet, but the ground fought back, continually trying to throw her down. He’d seen many emotions cross her face in their time together, but panic had never, ever been one of them. Her wide eyes darted around, looking for escape, for answers. For an enemy to fight. But this time the attacker, the Source, was made of her own element and her weapons would never be strong enough to win.

Griffin swirled around her in a misty ribbon, gently pressing against her, letting himself go more liquid. When she realized it was him, he felt her body shiver, her slight exhalation of relief. He rolled the bubble containing the fire spark up through his being, aligning it with her sight. Her eyes turned glassy when she saw what he carried.

Now to figure out how to give her the pure bit of magic. If he released the bubble, the fleck would likely sputter and die as it had within the cavern. If he assumed human form, the result would probably be the same.

Another lurch of the earth. Keko’s mouth dropped open . . . and he saw his answer.

Without thinking, without allowing himself doubt, he opened a space in the mist, released the bubble, and shoved the blue-white spark free. It arced out and away, shooting straight for Keko’s mouth. Her jaw jutted out and she caught the tiny flame between her lips. It disappeared into the dark behind her teeth, then her mouth closed around it.

She swallowed, then gulped and gasped, both hands flying to her throat, fingers scratching at her skin. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her body convulsed.

The island lost all stability. The rock that had been the gateway to the Source exploded, hot shards flying, the first bubbles of red and gold lava erupting out of the split in the earth. A molten river rushed toward them.

Keko’s eyes had gone wholly white, one hand still at her throat, the other pressed to her chest. Her body was tilting sideways and she did not put out her arms to stop her fall. If she collapsed here the encroaching lava would consume her.

Though weary, his strength and magic nearly gone, Griffin wrapped his mist tightly around Keko, cushioning her fall. Catching a gust of hot, sulphuric wind, he swept them both up and away from the ground as a surging roll of lava consumed the spot in which they’d just stood.

He spun around her as he carried her away, smashing his molecules together to form another, larger bubble around her limp form. He took them away from the broken island and the angry magic that was burying it in fire, and plunged them back into the churning ocean.

The water had gone cloudy with agitation. Within the waves the volcanic eruption felt entirely different—muffled and distant, but no less deadly. He shot through the water, Keko’s inert body bouncing around weightless and powerless inside his protection. He pushed on, back toward the Big Island, sensing the eruption fade and dim the farther away they got, until they were well away from its threat altogether.

At last the ocean floor started to slant upward, forming the base of the giant, ancient volcanoes of the Big Island. Griffin speared through the water, rising up, fighting and then using the mighty push and pull of the waves as they neared the shore. The surface was in sight, a sparkling invitation. He’d reached the dregs of his power, but even that wasn’t a good enough excuse to give up.

He gave one last push and propelled himself up and out of the water, spitting them over the waves and onto land. He lost all water magic in midair, his human body coming to him straight from vapor, making every muscle and bone and last bit of his spirit scream in pain. He still clung to Keko, though, managing to roll himself under her, so when they hit the shelf of serrated black lava rock strewn with chunks of loose white coral, it was he who took the brunt.

The jagged points of the rock dug into his skin but he barely felt them, for the drain of his energy stole all sensation as it pulled away his consciousness. He would feel it later. He would feel it all.

Vaguely, he was aware of Keko sliding off his body in a tangle of brown, limp limbs. With his last bit of effort, he blindly reached out and found the pulse on her neck, which was thready but present. His last thought before passing out was that she was warm.

Wonderfully, frighteningly warm.

TWENTY

Keko awoke on a bed of nails, a thousand sharp points gouging into her skin, the pain both extreme and welcome. It forced her back into awareness when she knew she couldn’t afford to be in the black any longer.

The sun was setting, and she awoke a different person. Only she didn’t know why. Or how.

Rolling her head, she winced at the scrape against her scalp. Her fingers flew to the back of her skull and brushed what she knew to be the rough and blocky
‘a’a
kind of lava rock. The stuff had been borne of fire, deep within the earth, but it was wicked on the body, Chimeran or not.

The sound of waves filled her ears. Easy, insistent waves.

The earth was still, free of smoke and fire.

How did she get here? And where was here? The last thing she remembered was the island rumbling beneath her feet, the anger of the Source bubbling up from below, throwing her down. The force and shock of the quake had jarred loose her control over her magic. She’d watched Nem’s fire cage collapse, then witnessed him clawing his way back into the enraged earth. Then . . .

Keko gasped as panic consumed her.

Griffin
. Griffin had turned to vapor and disappeared into the fissure, and then a long time later the world had exploded around her.

“Keko.”