And so, I cling to that shadow, that cooling calm. An anchor in this firestorm.
I cling toher.
And slowly—ever so slowly, the inferno inside me starts to fade.
40
SMOKE
ELYRIA
Cedric was fire incarnate.
It wasn’t the same orange-red blaze that had covered Gael from wing to toe, though. White-gold flames danced across Cedric’s skin, rippling in waves over his chest, his arms, his face. The heated air around him shimmered, distorted, the pillows by his feet crumbling into black ash as flames consumed them. The thin golden ring in his warm brown eyes expanded, his irises glowing like liquid fire as they were pinned open, unseeing.
Elyria couldn’t move. Could hardly breathe. Could only stare, her mind desperately trying to piece together what she was witnessing with what she knew.
There had always been somethingotherabouthim, hadn’t there? Some reason why she felt drawn to him, called to him. Something that only grew more apparent as the trials went on. Shesawhim fall. She could still feel the way her heart cracked as he sunk into that fiery lake.
Yet here he was.
And it was like he brought all the fire with him.
Movement suddenly returned to Elyria’s body, that trillingtugin her chest propelling her forward. She let it, not sparing a single thought to the idea of resisting.
As if in response to her approach, Cedric stumbled back, breath catching. He tensed, his molten eyes squeezing shut. He clenched his fists. The fire licking at his limbs grew higher, suddenly leaping off his body like it was trying to ward off an attack.
He was a blazing beacon in the void, an empyreal effigy.
Awe and terror swelled in Elyria’s chest as she took another step closer. “Cedric,” she whispered. He didn’t respond. Didn’t react. Perhaps he couldn’t even hear her over the roaring heat.
Still, Elyria kept saying his name, her eyes never leaving him, barely noticing the shouts and movements of the others. Kit darted forward, her hands aloft, water flowing through the air, weaving around him, only to evaporate in a wave of steam. Zephyr was still, rooted to the spot, green lips parted in shock. Thraigg’s mouth hung open.
“He’s going to burn out,” Nox said evenly, as if they didn’t particularly care but thought perhaps someone ought to know.
“Cedric,” Elyria repeated. “Cedric. Cedric!”
Still no response. His fists were still clenched, his body shaking. This fire, this flame—hisflame—whatever it was, wherever it came from, it would consume him. The image of Gael’s blackened fingers, her skin crumbling into ash, tore through Elyria’s mind, and she swallowed back bile.
Not him.
He was not allowed to go like this.
The Crucible could not have him too.
Like a marionette being pulled by that golden thread, she reached for him. The agony was immediate. White-gold flames bit at her flesh. For a fleeting moment, she wasn’t here. She was pinned to a table in a ransacked tavern, Raefe’s disgusting flametouch searing her legs.
No.
This wasn’t then.
He wasn’t him.
Cedric wasgood.
And he needed help.
He needed her.
