Chapter 22 The Land of Fire and Ice #2
They made their way to the road, walking toward the sleepy village and toward the docks dotting the coast. Killian shoved his hands in his pockets, shifting nervously back and forth, and Ember almost wanted to laugh.
She had never seen him nervous, not even a little bit, and the sight suddenly made him look more human than she ever thought possible.
“So, you’ve brought me on a secret, midnight rendezvous to a small fishing village in Iceland? ”
“Something like that.” Killian shrugged, mischief gleaming in his campfire eyes.
“Come to watch the show?” a voice sounded from beside them.
Ember’s head whipped, around and her jaw went slack.
A tall man—at least six foot four—stood in a fishing boat to their left, winding rope around his arms as he grinned.
He had shoulder length blond hair littered with braids and beads, and a tattoo that almost looked like a rune covering half of his muscular neck, running down to his left shoulder.
His jaw looked like it had been chiseled by the gods themselves, strong and rugged, thick stubble running across the lower half of his face.
And his arms.
He was bundled in a thick coat and gloves, but the wind that bit into Ember's cheeks didn’t seem to bother him.
He stepped off the dock and wiped his hands on his jeans.
His blue eyes shined against the moonlight, and there was something vaguely familiar about their particular shade of blue and how they crinkled when he smiled.
“It’s particularly clear tonight,” he said after receiving no response, “so it should be beautiful.”
Killian nudged Ember in the arm, his brow furrowed in annoyance as she quickly snapped her mouth closed.
“You’re Irish,” was the only thing she could think to say. Not a question. His face darkened as he nodded.
“Aye,” he replied, his eyes narrowing, “though I haven’t considered myself as much in quite some time.”
“Do you have a name?” Killian asked, standing just a little taller and taking one step closer to Ember.
“Aye.” The man nodded again, stuffing his hands in his pockets and turning toward the sleepy town. “You folks have a lovely night.” And then he left without another word.
Killian watched him walk away; eyes narrowed until he turned a corner out of sight. “What’s he doing out so late anyway,” Killian grumbled, as he stared at the empty space at the end of the dock.
“I’m sure he’s wondering the same thing about us,” Ember replied, as she rolled her eyes. “He seemed nice.”
“He seemed suspicious,” Killian almost sneered. “Maybe I should go put a sleeping jinx on him, just for good measure.”
Ember slapped his shoulder. “Killian Vargr, you are sixteen years old. You cannot use magic off the island!”
Killian quirked a brow as he grinned. “We were just magically transported to Iceland in the middle of the night with an illegal Geoport, and you’re worried about a tiny sleeping jinx?”
Ember rolled her eyes as he laughed, a laugh that made her heart leap into her throat. He nudged her arm as he nodded toward the sky, and she tilted her head back in confusion.
“The show’s about to start,” he whispered, and suddenly the sky was ablaze.
Green and blue mixed with purple against a tapestry of stars, creating a curtain that hung across the heavens. Ember gasped as one hand flew to her mouth, and Killian lightly grabbed the other.
“You know,” Killian breathed, “our ancestors thought the Northern Lights were an earthly manifestation of the gods.”
“Really?”
“Aye,” he nodded, still holding her hand tightly in his, “the winter months were sacred—a time to rest and be one with nature and mingle with the gods when they came down from the heavens. It’s still celebrated in some places, just not as heavily anymore.”
Ember nodded as she continued to watch the colors dance against the vastness of space.
“I have something for you,” he said, turning to her as he pulled a small box out of his pocket and twirled it around in his hands before he placed it gently in hers. “A late birthday gift.”
Ember gave him a confused look. It looked like a box you would put jewelry in. Other than her father’s ring and her Vegvisir, she wasn’t one to wear much jewelry. She opened the lid to the box and gasped when she saw what was inside.
Beautiful jewels in the shape of stars burned brightly against the metal it was placed in, almost like he had plucked the stars himself from the heavens. They twinkled as she ran her fingers across them, and the familiar buzz of magic reverberated through her bones.
“Killian, they’re beautiful,” she breathed. “Is this Andromeda?” She ran her fingers against the small constellation on each earring, feeling the cold metal tingle against her skin. She traced the birthmark on her neck behind her ear, the one that was the same shape as the pieces of jewelry.
“Aye,” he nodded as he grinned, “and they’re charmed, See?” He pulled a glove off, holding it between his teeth as he placed one of the earrings in her ear.
The warmth of his fingertips sent jolts of electricity buzzing through her skin, and each place he touched felt like it had been lit on fire, every nerve ending ablaze.
His hand lingered on her neck as she turned toward him, her breath catching as his eyes locked on hers.
He cleared his throat as he brushed his fingertip along the jewels adorned to her ears.
“They’re charmed to play your favorite books and music,” he almost whispered, his voice low, reverberating off the water that lapped against the dock. “I set them up myself, but we can change them whenever you like.”
We.
He leaned in closer, his breath creating goosebumps in its wake as heat crept up her neck.
She sucked in a breath, biting her bottom lip.
The pull to him consumed her—an open flame in a room filled with starter.
The world melted away around her, even the light playing through the sky seemed dull compared to him—the way his smile seemed to both break and heal something inside of her all at once.
There was nothing left but her, the sea, and the boy with the campfire smoke eyes.
Killian gently wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, pulling her closer as his other finger traced her jaw.
“Happy birthday, Starshine,” he whispered.
Ember gasped when her phone buzzed, almost jumping back and falling off the dock completely. She fished it out of her pocket, rolling her eyes as a text lit up the screen.
“It’s Fen,” she breathed, a little heavier than she expected. In that moment, Killian’s phone buzzed too. “He’s probably tracking us and plans to tear us apart new one when we get—"
Whatever she was going to say died in her throat, her face dropping as she read the text, her lungs feeling like they had been ripped out of her chest. From the hollow look on Killian’s face, she knew he had gotten the same message.
She choked back tears as her bottom lip trembled, her hand shaking as she read the message again, gripping Killian’s hand like he was a raft in the middle of a hurricane.
Maeve is missing. Come quick.