Fire Licked (4 page)
Authors: Anna Sanders
Cris’s impact to the ground would have devastated him if he weren’t already feeling the pressing weakness of losing. He could barely catch his breath being that all of the air had been knocked out of him in sequence. And even the magnitude of heat he was absorbing along with the beating was taking its toll slightly.
Rolling away from the stomps of his adversary was almost impossible. But Cris tucked his wings around his body and made himself manage it. Otherwise he would have been crushed right there on the sandy ground.
Wait… sand? When he felt that he was a good enough distance away Cris looked around. Yes, he was on sand. Cherufe had thrown him into a clearing, one that happened to be a beach leading down to the lake.
Thoughts swarmed his dizzy head. Water. How could he use it to his advantage? Would the thing sink if he got it deep enough?
Cherufe kicked him in the side. It hurt like a son of a bitch, regardless of the fact that they’d be at this for enough time that his adrenaline had kicked in.
When Cherufe would have kicked him again, Cris decided to wing it. He bounded quickly to his feet, as shaking a thing as that was, and walked backwards to the water.
“Come on, let’s make this interesting…”
When his feet hit the first waves he was surprised by the heat coming from them. The lake was boiling. The vapor from the mountain was a current beneath the surface.
Cherufe was not afraid of water. He steamed violently when he crashed in, but was undeterred. Cris was soon waist deep and preparing to plunge. There was a surprising curve from where the shore broke off into deep depths. And once he was sure the creature would still follow him, Cris dove in and began swimming.
Cherufe sunk with ease. But it was a controlled sink. The thing had obviously paddled water before. Cris took the thing deeper and deeper, heading for the lake floor. Soon it became apparent, however, that Cherufe didn’t need to breathe. And Cristis did.
The closer he got to the lake floor the more heat he took in. Soon he could see foam. Dead sea life was floating up to meet him, but he managed to keep his gaze clear as he brought himself closer. When he saw the vents, his heart raced. They were plummeting torrents of blackened water throughout the rocky bottom. The rush of water was what was taking him closer, no longer his flailing limbs. His mouth opened in a silent scream.
Cherufe caught up with him and held him fast. The creature began to swing at him again, but the drag of the water made each strike nothing more than a bump. Cris’s body was desperate for air, which made his struggles mean something. Cherufe was having a hard time hanging onto the demon. The two of them began to swirl in the water dangerously, leading further and further down toward the deadly vent.
Cristis’s lungs protested vehemently but he could do nothing. The light from the shore was becoming dimmer and dimmer. Cherufe squeezed him, which forced him to exhale his remaining air. His eyes widened and he swallowed far too much sooty water.
Farther and farther they fell. Cris raised his hand upward, clenched in airless hopelessness.
ISIDORA CRAWLED FROM THE CAVE with all of the strength that she could manage. Every movement made her feel as if she were going to black out, but staying there wasn’t an option. If Cherufe returned, she would be powerless to fight him off.
Bandits had superior speed. If only she had enough energy to harness it. She would have been able to hoof it away from the place without a backward glance. But even on all fours, she was useless. Each muscle felt strained and she choked on sobs as she did her best to escape.
There were no seismic footfalls returning her way, but there were also no wing beats. Was Cristis dead? She found it hard to believe that he would be able to defeat the stony foe. If she wanted to stay alive, then she had to seize the opportunity that Cristis had sealed for her.
When a shadow passed over her, she cringed and could not stifle her terrified whine.
“Please! No more, please!”
Strong hands turned her over. They burned her skin and she wailed in protest. Trying to fight him off she screamed pitifully.
“Isidora! Stop!”
Hearing the familiar voice her eyes flew open. Standing over her was her demon. Cris was soaking wet, piping with heat, and covered in wounds—but it was him.
“It’s me,” he wheezed. “You’re safe.”
Isidora wanted to reach up to him, but she was mindful of the heat. She leaned her head back against the ground and closed her eyes in relief. “Oh…”
“Christ, he got you,” Cris muttered as he stared down at the mostly nude woman. Her skin was charred from where Cherufe had abused her. “We need to get you cleaned up.” He touched her again and she shifted away with a cry. “Oh fuck, sorry. I need to cool off first.”
Cris flew quickly into the air, but returned a few minutes later. The demon lifted her into his arms and flew high above the trees. Isidora didn’t flinch, now knowing what real danger felt like. She was stretched in his arms with weariness but he held her close as he flew high from the mountainside.
JUNE NINETEENTH, AND THE SCALE of the eruption had decreased. The evacuees were allowed to return to their homes and farmlands. The skies were clearing by the hour. The pace of the land went back to normal, with the exception of the natural water supply which would take some time.
Isidora moved her hand along her hair, still not used to her new haircut. She pushed her shades up closer to her eyes and took a deep breath as the line moved forward. She looked around the bustling crowd, smiling slightly when she caught snippets of conversation. Everyone was happy to be back home. She was happy to be leaving it.
Soon it was her turn to get onto the bus. She showed her ticket to the assistant and thanked him when he took her piece of luggage. She declined his offer to take her large woven handbag, preferring to keep the carry-on with her.
Three steps led her to the waiting driver, who gave her a welcoming smile. Isidora waved as she passed him and headed to the nearest window seat. She settled easily, drawing in the train of her dress so that others would know she was not opposed to someone sitting beside her.
The sky was still partly cloudy, but it was no longer dark. The sunbeams warmed her cheeks. Every time a passenger walked up the steps the vehicle would sway. The back and forth motion reminded Isidora of the constant earthquakes she had endured over the past two weeks. She did her best to ignore her still fresh injuries beneath her clothing. Almost every inch was bandaged.
Finally the last rider sat down and the driver closed the doors. He waited about five minutes to be sure that nobody else was about to board, then gave the signal to the assistant to close the bus’s undercarriage. Soon, with a cheery announcement and a roar, the bus was rumbling away from the station.
After they had been on the road for about ten minutes, Isidora waited no longer. She reached into her bag and pulled out the large yellow envelope. Her name was written across the top in a flourish of ink. She popped up the silver staples and pulled out the contents with eager, trembling palms.
A letter sat atop a blown up photo. She brought the print close to her face, reading quickly:
Isidora Reyes,
A passion like ours comes maybe once in a lifetime. Which is why it is not easy to walk away from you right now. I have lived my life with no attachments, always making excuses about what it was I needed or wanted. The truth is, I’m a loner for a reason. But you could change all of that in a heartbeat. It’s not hard to imagine myself sweeping you off of your feet and dragging you around the world with me. The idea is so tempting it makes my mouth water.
But here’s the thing. After everything we have gone through I’ve realized that I do have responsibilities. Some more important than others. I have avoided them for so long that it’s hard to make me care about them at all. No amount of volcanoes or storm chases or pretty little bandits can keep me from not honoring my duty. I’ve grown beyond that person I used to be, and that process started a long time before I was lucky enough to meet you.
Maybe one day I will bring you to America and plant babies galore inside of you. But that time is not now. I would like to leave you as uncomplicated as possible, especially after everything you’ve just been through.
I’ve left you with an address and credentials to Mexico. I have a house there, which you are more than welcome to use should you want to. Either way, as long as you write me, I’ll be in touch. You’ll be in my thoughts, mongrel. Stay safe.
With Love,
Cristis Von Dietrich
The photo showed Cris flying upward with Isidora sprawled out in his arms. Behind them, the sky was on fire with activity. She wasn’t sure how she felt about seeing the evidence of his having to rescue her again. Her fingers squeezed the edges, crumpling the print just slightly. She closed her eyes against what she thought might be the pinprick of tears.
She knew that she would miss him every day until they saw each other again. Whenever that might be. Whether or not she would go to Mexico was another question. Maybe she would see how close she got before she happened to changed her mind. If she changed her mind.
Leaning her head back against the bus seat, Isidora looked back out of the wide window. The highway was clear as the bus took her out of the city limits. When she looked up at the sky she squinted against the glare of sunlight, thinking she may have caught a glimpse of midnight black wing against the cloudy horizon.
Perhaps if they cared enough about each other, they would one day meet again.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Anna Sanders is a simple soul originally from southern California. Her interest in writing began at the early age of 12 years old after having an eccentric and exciting English teacher. Her hobbies include hiking, killing zombies in video games, cooking, and obnoxiously singing showtunes. For the past six years, Anna has been an avid participant in the annual NaNoWriMo challenge.
She currently resides in Carson City, Nevada with her husband, their two daughters, and a fluffy behemoth of a dog named Jojo.
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