Fireborn Champion (2 page)

“I want to see one, Sander. I can use the Sinner’s magic. I’ll be completely safe, don’t worry!”

Sander’s gaze fixed on Iron as he arched a brow. “Didn’t we just have a talk about arrogance and bravery? I’ll give you one guess as to which one your happy little bout of youthful foolishness falls under.”

An angry thorn twisted in Iron’s heart, heating his cheeks. “I can’t stay pent up in this stupid valley forever, listening to glory hawks kill foxes and hoping an elk wanders through so we don’t have to eat squirrels or root stew for dinner again. I need to see the world and the things in it. If I never know what’s dangerous, how am I ever going to be anything but ignorant? I can’t always just spar you, you know.”

“Unfortunately, you make a good point. You’ve been around me too long. That tongue’s getting sharp. You might one day even have half the wit of my left pinkie.”
 

Iron rolled his eyes. “That’d be a big pinkie.”

“Huge. Still, my wits trump your logic. I need to find us some dinner and you need to study. You did piss-poor when last we covered the Eastern Kingdoms. How about a nice book on Blail? That country’s ten thousand times as interesting as a half-starved old wolf or two.”

“But—”

“I said no.” Sander motioned toward the valley. “You get to the cabin while I hunt. If the wolves stick around more than a day or two, we can investigate. They’ll be out of here as soon as they realize there’s no meat in tree bark.”
 

“You’re not any fun. I’ve got the Sinner’s magic. I could easily keep myself safe.” Iron hurried after his master as they dashed toward the cabin. He peeked behind him, longingly looking toward the source of the howls. They weren’t too terribly far away.

“There will be much more time to see far worse things that lurk in Urum,” Sander said. “The wind’s a tricky lady in the lower reaches anyway. It favors us now, but should it change directions those beasts would sniff you out, and I’ll be damned if I let you lead a pack home while I’m cooking dinner. Sinner knows what kind of hell you’d be in if I burned good meat because I’m poking holes in a feral wolf.”

Iron fumed, flakes softly falling against his hot cheeks. “Fine. Just fine. Like always.”

Their cabin appeared over the next crest of the rippling hill, a squat black box nestled between a few bent pines spotted with snow drifts. His wet clothes and cold toes warmed as his excitement heated his blood. He ran the rest of the way, swinging the door wide and stepping inside as warm air washed across his cheeks. He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms while Sander continued trekking down the gentle slope.
 

His master paused where the trees grew thick and nodded at Iron. “The Slippery Sinner makes you hard to catch and harder to kill, but he’s the god, not you. A wolf’s bite will tear your flesh just like any other man’s, you hear me? Now get to your studies. Study the etymology of cocky. It’ll save me the conversation.” He stepped beneath a tree’s shadow but paused before vanishing. “No wolves, okay?”

Iron grinned at the concern tinging Sander’s voice. His master bit his lip and looked worriedly after his apprentice.
 

“I’ll be home, old man. Try not to worry. It’ll give you wrinkles.”

Sander’s lips parted as if they had more to say. Instead, his eyes rolled toward the heavens, his lips whispering words that were no doubt a prayer to the god they worshipped. Sander spun on his heel and darted between the trunks, smoky mist encasing him as his body rushed unnaturally quickly toward the south where their potential dinner waited.

With a sigh, Iron turned to the cabin. Chests in various states of wear vomited old leather tomes and yellowed scrolls over the uneven wooden floor. Posters of strange continents, strange lands, and strange creatures plastered the windowless walls. A crude table held a field of unlit candles near two simple beds piled with elk and greyhorn furs.
 

Iron grimaced at his home, his school, his cage. Then, he turned his attention to the Everfrosts. They waited for him with all their quiet mystery. They were a wall thrown up by the gods as if to turn men from what treasures waited beyond. Maybe he could convince Sander to go on an expedition. Iron knew the man grew nearly as restless as him. Neither of them were meant to stay still this long.

A low rumble sounded from behind the peaks. One of the many unfriendly aspects of the mountains were the thundersnows; quick, angry torrents of lightning and frost that could fell trees and freeze flesh in minutes. Iron grew up with their rage and feared them about as much as a fish fears water. Yet, he knew to respect the storms whenever they broke over the mountains.

The weather conspired to kill the wolves before he could see them. No, it didn’t conspire. It challenged him to glimpse the wolves before it buried them.
 

Iron closed the cabin door and cracked his knuckles, his shoes crunching on the snow. “Challenge accepted.”
 

The Sinner’s magic welled within him. His body shuddered as charcoal smoke rose in trails from his arms and legs. He bolted for the peaks, trees passing in a blur of mottled white. Each breath came out hot despite the chill.
 

I just want to peek at them. I’ll be back before Sander’s even spotted dinner.

The slope increased and air thinned. Another howl closer than the others punctured the quiet of the forest. Iron licked his lips and wrapped more of the Sinner’s magic around him. He charged at an outcrop casting its shadow before him. Slamming his feet against the snow, he soared in a graceful arc and landed atop the icy granite.
 

He slipped on a patch of ice, and his knee hit the rock. Iron cursed, closing his eyes and sucking in a breath through the wall of his teeth. Sander never fell. Thank the Six his master wasn’t nearby to tease his apprentice about the sloppy landing.

Iron ignored his throbbing knee and continued on. The slope had flattened and trees thinned. Beyond, a frozen pond glimmered like polished porcelain dusted with sugar.

Yet another howl echoed against the summit, this time from shadows thrown by pines ringing the icy pool. Iron slowed. His footfalls made not a sound atop the snow. Only the periodic whoosh of tired wind rolling down the mountain disturbed the air, every so often accompanied by eager thunder from the storm gathering behind the peaks.

He came to the last few trees bordering the lake. Two tall pines weighed by snow bent from one another, forming a thin V that opened to the ice. Iron crouched between the trunks. He pressed his hands feather light against the rough, chilly bark. His breath escaped from his lips in warm clouds.
 

Movement disturbed the shadows on the shore. The wolves approached.
They’re heading onto the lake
, he thought. He scanned the ice. Nothing broke the flat save a small island just above the surface.
 

Iron caught his breath. He leaned into the gap.
So that’s what they’re after. Beautiful
.

And it was.

I don’t think I’m going to make it back for dinner.

Iron crouched between the trunks. Loose snow disturbed by his foot spilled over the frozen lake. The wolves might have heard him. Then again, he didn’t really care. No one would care facing the scene revealed before him. This island breaking over the frozen waters, this island that was the lake’s heart, this was where all things lingered that mattered in Iron’s world.

The island rose a gentle slope above the ice, a round mound of billowy snow. Not a single blade of grass, reed, or rock broke the pristine surface, save for a single enormous, leafless tree rising in a twisted curl.

Bark black as a shadow in the night coated its gnarled trunk. Branches long and spindly towered above the snow and clawed at the sky; not a single rebel flake drifting from the clouds dared mar its midnight surface. Iron had never seen a tree like this before. It reminded him of what he had learned of the great oaks growing in the forests of Blail. Those trees were ancient giants that drank the sun as they watched generations of men rise and fall beneath their boughs. No trees like this grew in the Everfrosts though, or if they did, he’d never seen them.
 

Yet even that dark sentinel couldn’t hold a candle against the doe standing before it. Fur white as snow blanketed her—did his eyes deceive him, or did her coat even sparkle in the light? Her eyes were wide, dark pools that drank the world and held it tight within eternity. Her small nose ebbed skyward, her nostrils swelling with a deep breath. Her gaze settled on him, and there it rested.
 

Iron’s hand went to the dagger tucked in his belt. A sword would be silly to hurl across the lake, but his dagger? A little push with the Sinner’s magic, and the thin blade would race across the pond and bury in the animal’s heart. Sander could cook this meat. It would be much more tender than an elk or greyhorn.

His fingers clasped the hilt. They lingered there, unable to slip the weapon from its sheath. Iron licked his dried lips. The air had already chilled in preparation for the thundersnow clawing its way from behind the mountains. If he wanted to kill the doe, he’d have to do it now or risk getting caught in the storm.

He shook his head, and his hand slipped from the weapon. “You’re not meant for me to hunt,” he whispered.

A breath puffed from her nose. She blinked, and behind her, a work of magic sparked like nothing he had ever seen. Green stalks pushed their way to the surface of the tree’s limbs and spotted the black. Their stalks twisted and unfurled, splaying emerald tongues over the bark. Scarlet buds swelled between the leaves, and they split into brilliant roses red as blood from a fresh cut.
 

Within heartbeats, a tree once dead and blackened swayed with the life of a thousand blooms and verdant leaves. In the world of the Everfrosts where white and grey were the only colors Iron knew, the shocking vibrancy of the red and green left him dumbstruck.
 

“You see me,” he rasped, gaze still locked within the doe’s. “Why don’t you fear me?”

A low growl interrupted his reverie. A creature gnarled and black as the island’s tree stalked onto the pond. It was a large animal covered in greasy fur. It walked on four paws, and its white teeth dripped saliva onto the ice, which hissed in protest from each drop. The rabid beast glared at the doe with eyes of hateful amber.

Iron had never seen a wolf, but he’d studied them many times. No wonder people hated and feared them. Something about the creature…Iron shivered. No, this was something
more
than a hungry predator. Something darker, tainted.

He wiped cold sweat beading on his brow, wishing Sander was crouched beside him and acutely aware of his throbbing knee from his clumsy landing. His master would know what to do. His master would have the right words, the right smile to calm Iron’s nerves.

No. I’ll be fine. I’ll show him I can survive without him.

A second wolf rustled through the trees opposite the first. They slowly made their way over the snowy ice. The doe still had her eyes locked on Iron and made no move to escape the predators.
 

For some reason, Iron’s heart twisted. He wanted the doe to live. He wanted her to bound into the forest and leave the beasts behind. Why wouldn’t she?
 

“Just run,” he whispered. “The wolves are unsteady on ice. You can escape!”

A whip of violet lightning cracked from the thundersnows and smashed into a peak, blasting ice and rock into the sky. Whistling winds tore through the forest, sending the blossoms on the black tree fluttering from their stalks. Petals fell like bloodstained snowflakes around the doe, but not a single one touched her.

One of the wolves howled. Two more answered its call and filtered from the trees. Four wolves, all black and bearing dripping fangs, descended on the animal. She had no escape now. The trap would close around her.

Iron’s chin trembled. Tears welled in his eyes and gave the world an oiled sheen. “Run. Why don’t you save yourself?”

The doe took a step forward. The wolves halted and raised their haunches, their wide backs rippling with their deep growls.

Forgive us
, a woman’s soothing voice whispered. It came from nowhere and everywhere all at once, from every tree and rock and flake of snow. It surrounded him, comforted him.

The circle is broken, Iron.
 

“Who are you?” Iron asked.

 
A Sun that set rises once again. Beware the Serpent, Iron, for he comes in many forms, and the Sun he raises will be your destruction. Stop him, Fireborn, and save what good is left in this world. The circle is broken. Forgive us. Forgive us…

The doe closed her eyes. She bowed, bringing her head to the ground. The last fluttering scarlet petals piled around her.
 

The black wolves snarled and charged onto the island. They descended on the small doe in a flurry of black and sharpened claw. Bones cracked. Flesh tore. Splashes of red sprayed the white.

“No!” Iron screamed. He lost his footing and slipped onto the frozen lake. The thundersnow gathered its rage and exploded beyond the summits, a wall of snow and ice spilling from its belly onto the mountainside.
 

The wolf pack paused its slaughter. Eight beaded amber eyes lifted from their meal and focused on him. Blood dripped from the wolves’ jaws. Pale fur stuck between their fangs. Iron looked the largest wolf straight on. It cocked its head in a terrifyingly human manner and slowly blinked.

For a brief moment, Iron crouched in the snow and ice while the wolves glared without so much a growl slipping from their jaws. Behind them, the thundersnow barreled down the mountainside, the deathly cloud flashing with the lightning within it.

Iron wobbled to his feet. Wind whistled through his hair, tossing it from his brow. The alpha wolf’s lips slid up its snout in a wicked snarl.