20
Blaze
The frozen forest has begun to melt.
I can hear the soft patter of water droplets dripping from the trees overhead. One lands in the corner of my eye and slides down my face like a tear. I don’t wipe it away but remain very still, listening to Fox murmuring quietly to Cedar over the crackling fire.
I don’t want him to know I’m awake yet. I don’t wish to speak to him at all.
How long, exactly, has he been spying on me?
With Sifa’s Eye, Fox holds the key to the secrets of the past. But never did I imagine he would use it to stealmysecrets, to eavesdrop onmymemories, to callously bear witness to some of the most private, most personal moments of my life.
I concentrate on keeping my breathing even.
How dare he? Howdarehe? What he’s done … it’s an abuse of power. Aninvasionof my mind. How am I expected to trust somebody who treats my past like their property?Who provokes me into unleashing dangerous magic just to prove a point?
Fury splinters once more, eager for release. I clamp down on it hard, suddenly wary.
I can’t explain what happened. The power humming through my veins had felt sopotent.I might’ve found it exhilarating, had it been intentional. Only it wasn’t, and that’s what frightens me. I thought I had my gifts under control, but it appears I was wrong.
Despite the heat from the fire, I’m desperately cold. I shiver, clenching my teeth to stop them from chattering.
Cedar, as if sensing my discomfort, nickers forlornly.
‘I know, I know,’ Fox murmurs. ‘I’m sure she’s fine.’
My eyes snap open. ‘Fine?’
He looks up sharply, meeting my gaze.
‘You goad me into freezing half the forest and you think I’mfine?’ I hiss.
Fox arches a brow. ‘I wasn’t talking about you, Storm Weaver.’
I frown. Who else could he be talking about? Come to think of it, why is hetalkingto the horse in the first place? Perhaps he’s deranged as well as sadistic.
‘Besides,’ Fox continues, ‘youdon’t look fine at all.’
‘Speak for yourself,’ I retort, taking in the blood-stained bandage wrapped round his shoulder and the purplish-blue bruise blooming on his brow – twin to my own. I wince as my fingers probe at the bulbous lump, remembering the blinding crack as our foreheads collided, remembering the moments before, breathless and burning, caged by his body.
I look away quickly.
This forest is denser than the last. The darkening sky is partially obscured by thick fir trees, and the ground is hard, carpeted with browning needles.
‘Where are we?’ I ask.
‘The Wildlands,’ Fox replies.
I glare at him. ‘I’d worked that out for myself, funnily enough.’
‘A few hours’ south of the previous camp,’ he adds. ‘I didn’t want to waste a day’s travelling.’ A smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. ‘You drooled on my shoulder.’
My cheeks heat. ‘I did not.’
‘Whatever you say, Your Majesty.’
‘I told you already,stopcalling me that,’ I growl.
