She touched his hand. Her skin was hot.
“The fire will find its way,” she said.
He was not sure what she meant, but he felt himself answering, “Fire always finds a way.”
Slowly, she nodded. “Then let’s go.”
They headed southeast, toward the tunnel entrance. They stumbled along the edge of a dry ravine as the fire followed, surrounding them like a shield. Tankers flew over the mountain, their searchlights vainly sweeping over the broken, burning trees.
The heat dried his eyes and lips. Yassen began to cough, and as he doubled over, spitting out blood, a pulse sliced into a branch above him—exactly where his head had just been. He hit the ground, calling for Elena.
Pulse fire shredded the air. The fire roared in return. Ahead, he saw Elena raise her hands, the flames curling, but then a pulse cut through the pines, and she yelped, tumbling into the ravine.
“Elena!”
The fire swept past Yassen to surround her. Pain shot up his right arm. It felt as if his bones were ripping apart. He stifled a cry as he inched forward on his stomach and rolled into the ravine after her.
The flames circled them. Yassen dragged himself forward to where Elena knelt, clutching her arm.
“Are you okay?” he panted.
She looked at him with glazed eyes. Blood streamed down her forearm. Her wrist hung at an unnatural angle, and the sight made Yassen’s stomach roil.
“It’s all right,” he said to assure them both.
She had been hit right beneath the elbow and had sprained her wrist during the fall. Yassen quickly took the scarf around her neck and tightened it around the wound. He then ripped off a part of his cloak to make a sling.
“Mother’s Gold,” she rasped as he pulled tighter, her face grey with pain. “I’m going to kill them.”
Pulses zipped overhead. From their direction, Yassen estimated that the shooters were to the southwest. The cabin’s tunnel entrance lay farther to the east, past the flames and fallen trees.
In the ravine, they were easy prey for slaughter. The fire would buy them time, but they only had one gun. Yassen stared at the flames as the pulse fire screeched overhead, as the forest crackled and burned, as Elena hugged her bloody hand, and the decision came to him with a quiet, unwavering gravity.
He thrust his holopod into Elena’s hand, his words rushed. “Follow the ravine. Stick to the trees for cover and use your fire to get to the cabin. Look for that thin pine. Take the tunnel and head south until you find the dragon. The Black Scales will know you’ve arrived even before you do.”
He watched the realization dawn on her.
“No,” she said. “No.”
“Remember before we went up the mountain? I said you had to listen. If I told you to run, you run. If I told you to leave me, you leave me.” He tied the knot of the sling. “Now for once, listen to me.”
“We’re supposed to leave here together,” she insisted.
“Plans change,” he said as he fumbled with the bullets strapped along his waist. “I’m expendable, and you’re not.”
“Not to me,” she whispered.
“I burned my name in the sand. Remember?” His smile was tight. He checked the chamber of his gun and slid back the safety, but when he met her gaze, his smile cracked. He did not want to let her go. Of all things, he wished he could turn back time to that moment in the cabin, the moment when he had held her in his arms, and she had pressed her face into his neck. “Ravence needs you. Your people need you. Now go. Please, Elena.”
Slowly, Elena rose to her feet. The flames drew back. He tried to smile again, but his chest was too heavy.
“I’ll find you,” he said, and he wondered if she heard the tremor in his voice.
Her eyes glimmered. She squeezed his hand.
“You’d better.”
Then she took a step back. Still, her eyes did not leave his. A pulse smacked into the edge of the ravine, dislodging soil and rock. Still, his eyes did not leave hers.
