Chapter 18 #2
It made sense that the power was harder to control when my emotions ran high.
This had started when I was frightened, when I had been a child in danger, when I’d wanted or needed much.
And maybe as much as I told myself that this conversation and these people didn’t matter, the fear in my body from so many years would bring power lashing to the surface.
I staggered back a step as my thoughts opened to theirs.
The bitch, this little bitch-
God above, she’s going to burn us! She’s going to burn us and it was almost a holiday! I was going to see Beatrice-
I hate him, and I hate his daughter and I hate this entire stupid, ridiculous farce…
Pictures and images and ideas assaulted my mind from all sides, and I choked a little, dragged my focus back tighter. The soldier they’d brought in so I could read his mind was watching me, and I saw myself, thinner than when I’d left Khal, hands on my temples as it sent me stumbling.
I tore off the connection before my mind could touch the man on the throne. “As I said,” I ground out. “You are going to let me leave you, and never look for me again.”
But they’d seen weakness. They were scenting vulnerability, like hounds. A beastlike craftiness lit my former father’s eyes. “But my Rowena,” he wheedled quietly, “How can you ask me not to worry about you?”
“You can worry about me…as much as you did when you sold me.”
The computation left his eyes. “Goddamnit, we’ve been over this!
” his anger lashed out, and I watched him reel it in.
I watched him force himself to try to soothe.
How stupid he must think all of us. How convincing he must think himself.
“My girl…you’ve had a very difficult year.
You shouldn’t be hasty. What would your sister think? Do you want her to worry?”
“I’m sorry. I was unclear. Let me rephrase that.
” Exhaustion rolled over me, but I knew it wasn’t my power.
I knew the well was deep, knew I could hold his toy soldiers captive as long as I liked.
It was this I was exhausted by, this foolish talk that would go nowhere, these people whose hearts would always be stone.
“You can let me leave this place, or I will leave it in ashes.” I spread my hands.
Someone whimpered, in the corner. I didn’t look.
My father glared at me in open hate. He’d never taken disappointment well, but this was no longer my problem. He was no longer my problem. “Is this what you want to be?” he spat. “A bitter wench consumed by childish hurts? A cold shrew consumed by petty grievance and hate?”
I shrugged. “I don’t particularly hate you, right now. But I've certainly found better people to love.” I raised one hand, let flame dance over my fingertips. “And I will not let you take a scrap of me away from them, ever again.”
I waited. We measured each other, him red-faced and petulant, me clear-headed, cold blooded, and ready to hope.
“Fine,” he hissed. “Get out, then. Go to your rutting orcs.”
“Thank you.” I nodded goodbye to the one, confused soldier, the only one who hadn’t done anything to harm me, and addressed the lord of Belnor one last time. “Oh, your minister is embezzling funds. There’s a loose board under his desk where he has a second ledger. I saw it in his head.”
I started for the doors, releasing the guards to fall to the ground behind me.
“Rowena…”
I glanced back from the doorway, and it actually flummoxed my mind, that he was doing that sorrowful puppy-face again. His lip quivered. “I’m sorry.”
I spoke without feeling. “Good for you.”
I left.
The halls were mostly empty. When servants came into view, they scampered out of my way.
It took me a few minutes to realize it was because flame was flowing over my arms, sending warm, flickering patterns over the walls of what used to be my prison and my home.
Outside, the sky was creamy white, and the air was clean. The gate opened in front of me.
I walked out of my father’s keep, for the last time.
A hail of arrows released from the battlements behind me, the same arrows Khal had once worried about, and I stopped them in the air, like a wave of falling children frozen again, before I incinerated them.
And then I turned my flame on the gate. I let the flame pour out of me until it was crumbling, till the wood was crumbling and stone was warped with heat, till the power inside me was drunk up to about a third remaining, and then I lowered my hands.
They wouldn’t be keeping anyone else locked in for a long time. It would take a long time to fix that, if ever.
From the forest behind me came a shout, and I turned, like in a dream.
Khal staggered from the treeline. He looked like he’d been running. His gait was still stiff, but the bandages were gone from his shoulder. His eyes were wide, fixed on me and not the conflagration of my former home, the orange light that still danced over him.
I ran like my heels were on fire, like I was the avalanche rushing towards him, because no one I loved was ever, ever going to come again into the reach of those walls. I collided with him, and he caught me in his arms, crushing me to him like he’d never let go.
“I saw the smoke.” He was breathing hard.
“This is convenient.” His hair had gotten longer, and I pushed it back off his forehead, lingered with my hand on his cheek. “I thought I’d have to find you.”
His eyes were golden, like buttercups, like honey and sun. He kissed my hand. “You left. I thought…” he gasped out a breath.
“I know.” I wanted to memorize him, every eyelash and freckle, the lines of his shoulders, his soft lips and firm jaw. “It’ll never happen again.”
He pressed his face into my neck.
Maybe I’d never been held this tightly. Maybe I’d never wanted and been wanted so much.
“I was afraid, when I saw the flame,” he said. “I thought you might collapse again, and they wouldn’t…”
I breathed in the scent of him, warmth and woodsmoke, fear and love. “I hope,” I got out, “that you brought food. Because I…I kind of just left.”
He huffed a laugh against my skin. “The others will be a half-day behind me. Whatever my pack is lacking, I’ll make them share.”
“Good,” I said, muffled against his shoulder. “You should let other people carry things.”
He pulled back, and took my face in his hands. “If you’ll be my wife, I’ll let you carry anything you want,” he said. And he kissed me. He kissed me sweet and yearning, soft and hard, and I clung to him, to all of him, till a crash sounded the collapse of the keep’s gate behind me.
“Khal?” I said, breathless. “Let’s go home.”
His eyes were lit with hope, and he pressed his forehead to mine, a promise. “Yes. Let's go home.”