Boreal and John Grey Season 1 (59 page)

***

Snow swirled. The cold bit into her skin as she trudged up a path to yet another fishermen’s town by the frozen lake. Finn struggled by her side, clutching a small bundle, bright lines writhing on his face and exposed hands. He was way too thin, she thought, his cheekbones too sharp, the joints of his fingers swollen.

He looked to be around seventeen or eighteen. He was tall, but with that sort of awkward body that meant he was still growing. She was young, too, dressed in a jacket, jeans and sneakers. The age difference held even in his dreams, a constant in a terrifying world.

The wind whipped through the slender trees lining the path and sent Finn staggering sideways. She started after him but he caught his balance and swore softly under his breath. His trousers were worn, with holes at the knees, and his boots torn at the seams. The parka he’d thrown on was doing a good imitation of a sieve and she shivered with cold just by looking at him.

The town walls came into sight, wooden palisades with support beams arching out, driving into the snow-covered ground. The town gate was open, elves going in and out, laden with baskets or pulling two-wheel carts. Finn hunched over and skulked behind a cart, hurrying through the gate and into the town.

She followed like a ghost, floating lightly off the ground, invisible.

The houses were made of wood and stone, dark, with small windows. A fair was set up in the small square, with stalls and colorful ribbons fluttering in the wind.

Finn’s steps quickened. An aroma of grilled meat and freshly baked bread filled the air, and his belly growled.

Then a hand pushed him from behind. He fell, sprawling, his bundle tumbling and opening. A couple of small items rolled out — a black carving of a dragon, a wooden bowl, the curved tooth of a wolf. Finn reached out, but a boot rose and fell on his things, crushing them.

Ella jerked and fell to her knees. She lunged for Finn’s arm, to pull him back, but she wasn’t quick enough. The guard kicked him in the side and Finn curled into himself with a gasp.

 “Get out of here,” the guard hissed. “You’re not allowed in the town. You know it.” He prepared to deliver another kick. 

Goddammit
. She unwound like a spring and shoved into the guard. “Get off him!”

He frowned, barely seemed to feel the impact. Taller and twice as wide as Finn, he hauled him up by the hair and dragged him out of the square.

She couldn’t protect him. Dammit all, she could kick and yell, but the memory ran in deep grooves in Finn’s mind. She watched, helpless, as another guard arrived and the two of them together hauled a kicking and twisting Finn by the armpits. She ran after them to the town gate where they proceeded to throw him on the muddy snow outside. No matter how she cursed and pummeled them with her fists, they didn’t seem to feel a thing. They spat at Finn’s feet and left.

Finn groaned and pushed to his knees, tangled hair hiding his face. Slowly he put his feet under him and stood. He cast a look at the town, lips twisting. Then, shoulders set against the icy wind, he dragged his feet toward the road, looking more lonely and defeated than ever.

But he wasn’t alone, was he? Maybe stopping the memory wasn’t working, but he’d survived all this. It was in the past. She only needed to remind him of that.

Sounded easy.

She jogged after him and slipped an arm around his waist. He lifted wide eyes at her and stumbled to a stop.

“Ella,” he whispered, his voice clogged.

“You’ll be fine,” she said, putting all her faith in him in her voice. “Everything will be okay. You’ll see.”

His eyes shimmered.

“You’re the bravest and kindest person I know,” she whispered. “And I love you.”

He gave her one of his bright smiles, and it lit up his gaze. “
Fridha
,” he whispered.

She was about to ask what it meant, when Finn gasped and clutched her arm, his fingers digging painfully in her flesh. 

“What is it?” she blurted, frightened.

Finn shook. The whole world was trembling, the trees shedding curtains of snow, the mountain rumbling under their feet as if about to erupt. The sky above darkened and clouds swirled, a maelstrom sucking up the earth, tearing the trees and the town houses, swallowing them.

What the hell?

Finn was burning bright, his face twisted in pain. He lurched back, lost his balance and fell.

“Finn!” She dropped to her knees and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him close. “I’m here.”

***

Ella came awake to strong arms around her ribs, holding her against warm skin with the scent of spice and sugar. Soft hair tickled her face and she buried her nose in the junction of neck and shoulder, humming contently.

Finn moaned and his hold tightened to the point of pain. Tendons bulged under her lips as he threw his head back, his breathing coming through gritted teeth.

Something was very wrong.

She gasped, feeling her ribs creak, and drew back. “Finn?” Sweat tracked shiny lines down his face. His teeth were bared in a grimace. “Finn!”

He released her and rolled on his back. His body convulsed, fingers scrambling in the tangled sheets.

Had he pulled the stitches? Had his broken bones shifted? “I’m getting the doctor.”

Finn grabbed her arm, fingers tight like vises. “No.” His eyes scrunched shut, his face contorting in pain.

“Dammit, Finn.” Her heart pounded. “How can I help you?”

Finn panted, lips curled back. Bright lines writhed on his skin. Then he opened his eyes and Ella choked on a breath.

Silver flames danced in their centers.

The air crackled around them, breaking into liquid fragments. She could only stare as light broke through the seams of reality, images twisting, contained in changing windows from another world.

She jerked back. “Finn, stop!”

The light intensified around him, the cracks radiating from his head and shoulders like a pattern of leaf veins, spreading wider.

Goddammit, she thought it was getting better. She was wrong. Magic pulsed in the air, and he convulsed again, body arching off the bed. He had to be hurting himself. She gripped his arms, did her best to wrestle him back down.

Finn wrenched himself free, gasped and reached up to clutch his shoulder. He rolled on his side, groaning. White flames shot between his fingers.

The hell?
Caught between worry and fascination, she almost missed the blackness rising in the room, engulfing it. The sound of clicking finally registered and she sat up.

Jesus Christ, the Veil was tearing. Muttering to herself, she bent to retrieve her knives from under the bed — and just in time, too.

Shades
.

She whipped her blades out as a kobold on crooked legs jumped out of the Grey and onto her. Jumping off the bed, she advanced on the creature and stabbed a knife into its concave chest. It fizzled before it had crumpled to the ground.

A rock troll came pounding on heavy feet. She weighed a blade in her hand, perfectly balanced, and threw it. It caught the troll in its puffed-out chest, tripping it up. It crashed like a tree trunk, a mere couple of feet short of crushing her, and rippled out of reality.

Shit
. She had to end this before Dave and the cavalry came charging and saw Finn like that. She glanced at him, curled and shaking, caught in the eye of a burning storm, and almost missed the goblin rushing her from behind.

She spun and her blade sliced through the Shade’s arm. Not waiting for the goblin to fall, she kicked another that was sneaking up on her and sent it flying back. Following through, she threw the blade after it. The goblin screeched as it returned to the Grey.

Quiet returned, punctuated by Finn’s harsh breaths and the hissing where the ichor dripping from her knives hit the floor.

This was turning into a really shitty night.

Carefully, a tremor in her hands, she put the knives in a heap by the bed and sat next to Finn.

How to stop the pain, stop his magic from leaking? Chewing on her lip, she bent over him. The pain seemed to originate from his birthmark.
How strange
.

She covered his hand with hers, on his shoulder, and pried his fingers off one by one. He reached for his shoulder again, breath wheezing, and it took all her strength to hold his hand off.

Holy freaking shit
. She sucked in a sharp breath, bile rising in her throat. The dark lines of the starburst pattern were moving, shifting under Finn’s pale skin. Expanding, curving. Blossoming.

Into a flower-shaped mark.

Like the one John Grey had.

Wheels turned in her sluggish brain. Finn had said he’d matured a couple of years late. In fact, his magic had matured just a year ago.

But what if the process hadn’t yet ended?

Finn moaned, crushing her hand, head bent to his chest. Sweat trickled down his broad back in rivulets.

“It’s okay,” Ella whispered, fascinated in spite of herself as the lines shifted, expanding, their color changing from black to grey. “It will be okay.” One could only hope. If the lines and magic didn’t settle, she’d have to call Dave whether she wanted it or not. “Hold on a little longer.”

Light danced around them in tiny eruptions of brilliance. It leaped from Finn’s skin that rippled and shimmered like mother-of-pearl, from the long strands of his white-blond hair, making her skin prickle.