Fire Stones (The Fire Wars #2) (7 page)

            “I'm afraid one towel won't help much,” I said, taking a few more out of the linen closet, trying in vain to dry him. “Here's a few more. We'll have to try, at least.” I rubbed his hair with the towel, wary of getting too close.

            Varun blushed a little as he stripped off his shirt, wrapping his torso with the towel. “Sorry,” he said, looking down. “The shirt'll never dry unless I get it onto a radiator.”

            “No problem,” I said, trying not to look at his shirtless chest. He really was a Greek god – everything about his muscular, toned body gave off an aura of power, of perfection. I swallowed hard. Was this the attraction that Varun was talking about? The desire I was supposed to feel for him – that Vesta had once felt for Neptune. A desire that was strong enough to make her leave even the passionate God of Fire for his lair of water and shadows? I colored slightly, willing myself to ignore the sparks of longing I felt as his bare chest appeared before me. He dried his hair, running his fingers through his long, blonde locks. I felt my fingers itching to touch him.

            “Mac...” he sighed, catching my glance. He could see what was in my eyes. “I'm not trying to pressure you – I'm not. I'm just...confused. One second you liked me – the next you were with Chance. It's like we never even got a chance to break up. I thought everything was great with us and...I just want to talk about it, that's all.”

            I sighed. Varun was right. I'd fallen for Chance so quickly that I'd never even gotten a chance to talk it out with Varun.

            “I didn't mean for it to happen like that,” I said. “I really liked you. I did. But all this stuff about Vesta and my destiny – it got me over my head. I didn't have time to think. I just...if I am Vesta, I mean...”

            “But you liked me, right?” Varun's face was gentle, even hopeful. “I mean, I didn't do anything wrong? When we were together?”

            “No, Varun, of course not!” I put out a hand on his shoulder.

            “Then what happened? What changed – to make you stop liking me?”

            “Nothing!” I tried to explain. “Only Chance...Mars...I don't even know what to call him. If it's my destiny...”

            “Even if you
are
Vesta,” Varun said hotly. “Then that doesn't mean he's your destiny, no matter what he's telling you. Vesta left Mars once before she was with me – she was even willing to give up the power of Fire for those of Water in order to stay with me in the sea.”

            “But that doesn't mean I have to!” I cried. “Whatever Vesta did...I'm not responsible for that.”

            “And you're not responsible for what Mars is or does, either, then,” said Varun. “You can't have it both ways. Either you're dictated by destiny, or you're a free agent. And if you let destiny take its course, then you'll leave him again. Fire for water. Like you did once before. She stopped loving Mars; you will too. She loved me. You loved me. And if you're a free agent – then you need to make that decision without Chance. Who you want to be with?”

            “Do you believe I'm Vesta?” I stared him straight in the face. “Or do you believe Chance is wrong?”

            “I don't know,” said Varun. “What I feel for you – it's what I felt for
her
, Mac. So of course I want you to be Vesta, want it to be true. But part of me doesn't want you to be Vesta. Because if you are, because if you fulfill the prophecy...” his eyes narrowed and his voice trailed off. “I'll do what it takes to disprove it. To prove you're you – and not someone who lived centuries ago. But tell me this. If you were sure, absolutely sure, that you weren't Vesta, would you still have left me for Chance?”

            I was shocked by the question. “I...don't know,” I said honestly. “But I do know that, thanks to Water's power over Fire, the Erosion is drowning more and more people by the day. Soon there won't be any land left. And if I'm not Vesta, that puts you and the other Water deities in a pretty good position.”

            “How could you think that?” Varun grabbed my shoulders, his gaze intense. “It isn't like that. It's nothing to do with water or fire. I just want to be able to be with you – to save you from going through the test, from risking your life needlessly. I don't want anyone else hurt pursuing Vesta, least of all you.”

            “But you loved her so much,” I insisted. “Don't you want her back?”

            “Because, Mac!” Varun sighed. “Because if she comes back, everything will have to change. Not just between me and you, but with the whole world. Her coming back means destruction of the whole world – the danger of fire.”

            “Is that what you water deities believe?”

            “Look, Mac,” Varun took a step forward. “Just let me kiss you, just once – and if it doesn't mean anything. If you feel nothing. Then I'll back off, okay?”

            I sighed. “Okay,” I said.

            He leaned in, pressing my arms above my head. His kiss was searing, powerful, passionate – like a tide flooding over me. A kiss that heated my blood – that made me want more.

            He pulled away. “Well?”

            I swallowed. “It doesn't matter,” I tried to say. “I'm with Chance. And you're Water – I’m fire.”

            “If I wanted to destroy Vesta, if you really were Vesta, I could have done lots of things to stop her from coming back in you. I could have let the sharks get to you. Or the mermaids. I could have let the Siren take you. But I didn't.” He looked at me with desperate eyes. “I saved you because I care about you. Because I wanted to protect you, Mac. I still do. And part of protecting you is protecting you from Chance. He's dangerous, Mac – no less dangerous than the sharks and storms. Why can't you believe that? If he's got you thinking that I'm here to destroy you, to fight you as Vesta, then I wouldn't have saved you in the first place!”

            I looked down, pursing my lips. It was true – Varun had a point. But that didn't matter. I'd made my choice. I had to fight my desire. Vesta couldn't make a choice – but I would. “I'm sorry, Varun,” I whispered.

            Varun put a finger against my lips. “That's all right, Mac. Don't worry. I know how much danger you'll be in once everyone starts thinking you're Vesta. I know you don't know whom to trust – but I promise you, Vesta, Mac, you can trust me. Just give me one chance. One chance to prove my love to you. To prove that you feel something for me. You felt something in our kiss – you can't deny it.”

            I shook my head mutely.

            “Then let me prove myself to you. And if I can do that – will you promise not to go through the test of fire? Promise not to risk your life?”

            I sighed. I didn't want to die – Varun had a point there, too. But how could I live not knowing?

            “One chance,” I said. “To prove I'm not Vesta, okay?” I was trembling.

            “I promise,” Varun said. “I just want to save you. That's all I want.”

Chapter
8

           
I
had run away from Varun, hoping he wouldn't see the tears streaming down my cheeks. His words had affected me deeply – and I felt as if there was some great malfunction in my soul, something thrown off-balance. I spent the rest of that day and night in a trance, unable to get him out of my mind. His words had struck me to the very core. Until that moment, I had thought only of two options: either I would prove myself to be Vesta, or I would die in the attempt. Either I would live with Chance, or I would die without him. There were no other choices. Chance had obliterated all else, burned the other choices away in the passion and flame of his life. I could not live without him; I could not live without being Vesta. I was willing to undertake that risk. But now another option stood before me. The option to choose
life
– life as myself, and not as Vesta. I could
live –
nothing had to change. I could stay me, Mac Evars. I could stay safe. The idea was suddenly attractive in its novelty. I had gotten so used to my decision that a life without that crossroads hardly seemed possible. How could I bring myself to live without being Vesta? How could I stand my own curiosity? I sighed as I pored over the Book once again. Was it even meant for me? I had certainly found one stone on my own – but I had nearly died in the attempt. Had it not been for Varun, the sharks would have had me for dinner. Did that mean that I wasn't Vesta, after all – would Vesta have been able to escape on her own? After all, I knew she had the powers of Water as well as Fire.  I looked down at the book in my hands.      

            “Come on,” I said out loud. “Give me something. If I
am
Vesta, tell me.” I looked down at the book's blank parchment pages. “Give me a sign.”

            Suddenly, a blot of dark ink appeared on the fresh page. “Go on!” I cried aloud.

            It was drawing a map again, the calligraphy fine and precise. My heart started to beat faster and faster as I recognized the outline of the shapes. The map was luring me not to the ocean, but to the mountains. The trail I had gotten lost along my very first trek into the mountains – the trek that led me to find Chance and the mysterious Veteri. Once, they had looked on me as an outsider, a stranger, but now I was far less afraid. After all, was I not – if not the goddess herself – then at least a candidate suitable for the title? The Veteri trusted me now; they knew me as Chance's consort. I no longer feared them.

            I looked down at the book, letting my feet and instincts guide me. I followed the path, entering that beautiful realm of sweet-smelling flowers, blooming in the evening light, their ripe color bright and powerful even in the dim of dusk. The vines trailed at my feet; I could smell jasmine and orange-blossom in the air; the breeze itself was sweet on my lips and tongue. This place truly was Paradise, I felt, as I wandered further into the brush. The book was leading me off the beaten track, now – this was, I knew, no tourists' trail. I was entering the quiet depths of the forest, places where the thriving industrial civilization of Aeros Island had not yet encroached upon the mystical quietude. Was this where the stone was? I felt my breath quicken with anticipation. Was this what I was meant to find?

            I saw a dark figure in the distance.
A guardian of the stone? I
hesitated for the moment, but the book seemed to urge me onwards; the path I was to take magically traced out before me in blood-red ink upon the map. I drew closer to the figure, my body tensing up. Was this one of my attackers come back to finish the job? Would I have to fight?

            But as the figure turned to face me, I felt my body sigh and slack with relief. It was only Chance.

            “Good evening,” he said. He did not embrace me, and I noted that his manner was stiff, even formal. Almost cold.

            “I looked for you last night,” I said. “In the gardens of the hotel. But you weren't there. Only Varun...”

            “You saw him again?” Chance evaded my eyes.

            “Of course I did – he lives there!” But I knew that Chance's words were not rational. In his eyes I could see that he was jealous. Had he gotten wind of Varun's words to me by the linen closet? Had he gotten the wrong impression? “Things are a little awkward between us right now,” I said, trying to explain.

            “I'm sorry to hear it...” This wasn't the Chance I knew. This was the arrogant, cold Chance of old. What had happened to make him change in this way.

            “I told him I wasn't interested,” I said, trying to laugh – to make it all into a joke. “Don't worry. You don't have to be jealous. He knows I'm with you. He'll keep away from me now.”

            “There's no need,” he said grimly. “You shouldn't have to worry about me.” His eyes were dark, almost black.

            “What's going on, Chance?” I put out a hand, touching his shoulder lightly; he instinctively recoiled. “Are you angry at me or something?”

            “No,” he turned away, saying nothing.

            “Well,
something's
up!”

            “What makes you say that?” He raised an eyebrow.

            “You're acting strange.”

            “Strange how?”

            “Like you're angry.”

            “I already told you I wasn't.” His voice told a different story. “Why don't you believe me?” His insouciant tone infuriated me. This was the Chance that drove me crazy when we first met – too proud to trust in feeling.

            “Well,
I'm
angry,” I couldn't help saying, feeling the color come to my cheeks.

            “Why?”

            “Because!” I cried. “I came to see you and you're acting like you don't even know me! I'm your girlfriend, for goodness's sake!”

            “Yes,” Chance said glumly. “You are.”

            “And you don't get to turn the emotion on and off whenever you want to!” I sighed. “I thought we were past this, Chance.”

            “I thought so too!” he roared back, and I saw the first spark of emotion in him. “Or at least – I hoped we were.”

            “So what? Are you jealous of Varun?”