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Authors: Kate Bloomfield

Falling Ashes

BOOK: Falling Ashes
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Falling Ashes

The Fire Mage Trilogy

Book Three

By Kate Bloomfield

 

For Ashleigh Harriss

The Real R
æven

1990 – 2006

 

Chapter One

Birthday

 

 

‘Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,’ my family sang in unison, Jack loudest of all. ‘Happy birthday, dear
Avalon
. Happy birthday to you!’

‘Hip-hip!’ shouted Jack.

‘Hooray!’ my mother and father chorused.

They did this three times, despite my increasingly pink cheeks. Birthdays always made me feel awkward. I didn’t like being the centre of attention. Nevertheless, I blew out the candles to a chorus of cheers and applause.

‘What did you wish for?’ my mother asked.

I remained silent. Everyone knew what I would wish for because it was what we all wished for.

Clearing his throat loudly, my father handed me the knife to cut the first piece of cake.

Cutting it, and touching the bottom, my father leaned forward and pecked me on the cheek.

‘Thanks, Dad,’ I said as I gave a small smile.

When my father’s back was turned, I saw Jack give me a quick wink.

‘Now, I know it’s not much,’ my mother began, dipping down to pick up the small present wrapped in brown paper, ‘but you know things haven’t been easy …’ She trailed off.

Dad coughed loudly, before adding, ‘It’s from me and your mother.’

My mother placed the small parcel in front of me. Honestly, I hadn’t expected any presents today.

‘Thanks, Mum and Dad,’ I said sincerely.

I unwrapped the gift clumsily, and found a long, black, hand-sewn skirt made from a very heavy material. It was accompanied by a leather corset.

‘Your mother stitched the skirt, but I tanned the leather. Sorry,’ he added apologetically.

I thought the leather-work was decent. ‘I love it,’ I said honestly. This made them smile.

‘It’s fire-proof,’ my mother said. ‘I noticed a lot of burn marks in your clothes whilst doing the washing.’

‘How thoughtful.’

A scratch at the front-door indicated that Hawthorne, my animal-companion, was outside, waiting to come in.

My father’s jaw tensed. He disliked having Hawthorne inside the house because he dropped a lot of fur and feathers.

‘Can he come in?’ I asked.

‘You know I don’t like it. You know what it does to your sister,’ he said.

‘She’s asleep. She won’t even notice.’

My parents glanced at each other, before Jack chimed in, ‘It
is
her birthday.’

Beaten, my father waved a hand in defeat.

Jack went to the front door and opened it at once. Hawthorne, my winged-fox, who was larger than the door-frame, had to squeeze his way inside the house. The floor-boards creaked under his weight, and ornaments threatened to crash to the floor from his wagging tail. Despite his size, Hawthorne was extremely agile. Slinking to my side, he dropped something from his mouth onto the table.

My mother shrieked and jumped back. Looking down, I saw what Hawthorne had brought me.

Jack looked over my shoulder and laughed. ‘Avalon, he brought you a birthday present.’

I picked up the dead rabbit by the paw, inspecting it carefully.

‘Thanks, Hawthorne.’ I couldn’t help but grin for the first time in weeks. Hawthorne wagged his tail excitedly, sending a vase of flowers to the floor. Jack stooped just in time to catch it.

‘Looks like we’re having rabbit for dinner,’ Jack said, placing the vase back on the stand. ‘Well done, buddy.’

Hawthorne looked extremely pleased with himself.

My father picked the dead animal up from the table. ‘I’ll, um … take care of dinner, I guess.’

My mother, holding her chest, nodded quickly. ‘Oh yes, please, Dear. I don’t think I could skin a rabbit.’ She shuddered.

‘You eat rabbit all the time,’ I noted.

‘Not ones that still have fur, and eyes, and
innards
.’

My mother often bought pre-cleaned rabbits and pheasants from the marketplace, and since we didn’t have much money, this rabbit was a very nice gift indeed. That is what I thought anyway.

After stowing the rabbit out of sight, my father marched back into the room, arms folded across his chest. ‘Well, Jack,’ he said with raised eyebrows, ‘what did you get Avalon?’ 

Jack shifted his weight from foot to foot, hands buried deep in his pockets. I hadn’t expected any presents today, let alone from Jack. I knew he didn’t have much money, and I could tell by the expression on his face that he was embarrassed about it.

‘What? You didn’t get her anything?’ my father asked.

Jack opened his mouth to speak, but I interrupted.

‘It’s fine, Dad.’

‘He could have made you something,’ he said. ‘A card.
Anything
. Isn’t he supposed to be your
boyfriend
?’

Jack’s ears turned pink, and I felt my face growing hot. Jack and I had not yet discussed our ‘relationship’ with one another, let alone with my parents.


Dad
,’ I said in a warning tone, with a tiny shake of my head.

Dad harrumphed and sat down to help himself to a piece of cake.

Glancing at Jack, I saw him scuffing the toe of his boot against the wooden floor, his ears burning red. I didn’t care about presents. It only mattered that Jack was here.

Once the cake had been eaten, my father announced that he was going into the market to sell some of the vegetables we had grown over the last few months. Giving me and my mother a kiss on the cheek, and glancing in Jack’s direction, my father picked up his satchel and proceeded to the front lawn, where his crates of vegetables waited for him. We heard him grunting and crunching down the garden path.

My mother decided to busy herself that morning by tending to the garden. I knew it took her mind off other matters. 

Hawthorne lumbered off to catch himself some breakfast. I wasn’t sure if I was imagining things, but Hawthorne had become increasingly distant over the last few weeks.

Jack and I were alone together for the first time in days.  The only other person in the house was my sister Helena, who was currently restricted to bed-rest.

Turning to Jack, I knew I had to apologise for my father’s behavior.

‘I’m sorry about Dad,’ I said as soon as I was sure everyone was out of earshot.

Jack smiled and placed his hands on my shoulders, looking down at me. ‘Well, I couldn’t give you your present with everyone watching, now could I?’

I cocked my head to the side. ‘You have a present for me?’

Jack nodded to the hallway. ‘Let’s go to your room.’

I followed Jack as he led the way to my own bedroom. He pointed to my single bed and told me to sit. Confused, I did as I was told, perching myself on the edge, hands on my knees.

Closing the door quietly, Jack leaned against the frame, a smirk playing on his lips.

‘You know perfectly well that we aren’t allowed in my room with the door closed,’ I said, trying to hide my smile. My father had made the rules of the house very clear indeed. Jack was welcome to stay with us as long as he didn’t lay a finger upon me. I felt that this was exceedingly overprotective. Jack and I had been alone together on numerous occasions.

‘Well, no one is here now, are they?’ he said, crossing the room and towering over me. ‘And it
is
your nineteenth birthday.’

Leaning down, Jack cupped my face in his hands and pressed his lips to mine. I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply as his scent washed over me. Jack always smelled nice. His aftershave was natural; a little bit spicy, yet sweet, like cinnamon.

It had been weeks since our lips had met, and I knew he missed it. We hadn’t spoken of ‘us’ since we’d returned to Mortlock two months ago. So many unsaid things had passed between us in that time.  Electricity flew through the air every time our skin brushed.

He pulled away and started rummaging in the pockets of his trousers, pulling out a clumsily wrapped parcel no bigger than a few inches long.

‘You really did get me something?’ I asked, shocked.

‘You seem surprised.’ He handed me the small package.

‘You didn’t have to-’ I began.

‘I didn’t spend a cent,’ he promised, sitting down next to me.

Warily, I unwrapped the parcel to reveal a small, felt pouch. Giving Jack a suspicious glance, I pulled the drawstring of the pouch and shook the contents into my palm.

I couldn’t help but gasp. ‘Jack!’

‘Don’t you like it?’ he asked at once.

It was a necklace. Hanging from a fine gold chain was a heart-shaped locket featuring a blood red ruby in it’s centre.

‘Did you
steal
this?’ I asked, dreading the answer.

‘Don’t be silly,’ said Jack. ‘Here.’

He took the necklace from me and indicated that I should turn around. I did so, holding up my long hair so Jack could fasten it around my neck.  I looked down at the locket, which lay against my chest perfectly, glinting up at me.

‘You said you didn’t spend a cent-’ I began, turning to face Jack.

‘I didn’t spend anything,’ he interrupted. ‘I inherited it when I was young.’

‘You don’t mean …’ I trailed off, fingering the locket.

‘It belonged to my mother,’ Jack confirmed. ‘Now, I know what you’re going to say, but before you do, I need to tell you that it’s okay. I want you to have it.’

How could I accept this gift?

‘It usually stays hidden at the bottom of my rucksack,’ he said, glad that I had not interjected. ‘It hasn’t been worn for twenty-one years, and I don’t want it to go to waste.’

‘Jack, I don’t know if I can-’

He held up a hand to silence me, before taking the locket between his thumb and forefinger and holding it in a beam of sunlight that cascaded through the open window. The rays reflected on the encrusted ruby, lighting it up like a tiny flame.

‘It reminds me of you,’ he said.

I chewed my bottom lip. ‘Are you sure you want to part with it? I mean, it belonged to your
mother
.’

Jack nodded. ‘Isn’t it better that I see it every day on you, rather than have it stowed away at the bottom of my bag?’

How could I argue with him? I didn’t know how to say thank you. Instead, I showed Jack my thanks. Reaching for him, I took his collar in my hands and pulled him closer.

I felt the smile on Jack’s mouth as I kissed him gently. He enveloped me in his long arms, and I felt safe.

His lips trailed towards my throat, and his teeth grazed the sensitive skin of my neck. I felt my body begin to burn; yet Jack did not protest. He was like a moth to a flame.

I could hear my own heart, beating like a drum against my ribcage. It was so loud, I was sure Jack could hear it. He curled his fingers through my hair. He wanted to be closer.

The colour rose in my cheeks as I reached for Jack’s shirt, fumbling with the buttons, but his fingers wrapped around my wrist, hindering my progress.

After shaking his head, Jack kissed me again, his hand returning to my waist.

Unperturbed, I tried to unfasten the buttons on the front of my dress, but Jack broke the kiss, his face shiny with sweat. My core temperature had become extremely warm.

‘You’re driving my crazy, Red,’ he said. ‘A man can only say
no
so many times.’

‘You don’t have to say no,’ I told him.

He took a deep breath and leaned away from me, flopping backwards on the bed and looking up at the blackened ceiling. 

I was a little bit embarrassed. Things had become heated between the two of us a number of times, but he always put a stop to it. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Grateful, but frustrated at the same time.

BOOK: Falling Ashes
11.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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