Ice Burns (32 page)

The man tried to watch her, but her speed was more akin to flying than running, and by the time he decided he should follow, she was gone.

A noise near the clearing made the man crouch into the brush again. He saw a tall, slender man in the faded light. The absence of light prevented him from seeing the man’s physical details, but his movements showed confusion.

The man turned one way and then completely around as if he had entered the wrong place. The man knew he must be part of the group that were now little more than stray bits of dust.

The man’s eyes narrowed as he considered what this man had to do with the woman. What did he want with the man's prey and how could it be used to his advantage?

*********************

Chandra ran blind. Her vision had burned away, and she saw nothing but the red of burst blood vessels inside eyelids she wasn't even sure were her own. A single thought dominated her with a feverish hiss in her ears. Run.

She did. She moved as quickly as the forest and her lack of sight would let her. Terror chased, drove, herded her forward not to a specific destination but away from one. Her mindless journey came to a sudden halt when the foot of a great oak tripped her. She rolled and came down in the foliage covering the rich, black earth of the forest.

Her breath tore through her throat as though to escape. The musky smell of the soil filled her nose and she blew and spit it out. Chandra was unsure how to stand with the world so uneven around her, but her mind screamed at her to get up and move.

A noise nearby clamped down on the voice and stilled her movements. Her heart pounded an alarm, and she clawed at her chest as though to remove the snitch. No further sounds came and Chandra was able to take in air and will herself to begin to calm. Without the mad dash of blood pumping through her body, fueled by fear, her eyes would not clear. She was blind and naked without any idea where she was.

She turned her head to try to understand where the noises came from. Chandra moved her head slowly, counting several heartbeats between each move.

A whistle of wind was the only warning before something caused the air to ruffle her hair and fling the leaves around her head into chaotic disarray. When Chandra reached out, a familiar feeling clamped down on her finger and pulled her hand to touch soft feathers that were crisp and cool. She started and then exhaled ragged emotions.

Frostwhite hopped to her and tugged her hair with his beak. Chandra could imagine a mother patting a young child’s head. The fact that her friend had found her made Chandra feel safe, for the moment at least.

Chandra turned away from him to allow the contents of her stomach to rush out of her body. Burned flesh rolled through her nose and warred with the acrid scent of what had almost been her last meal. Tears flowed and the scene in the forest returned to her in a rush.

The guards had assumed her harmless. It was an assumption Chandra had shared with them until what happened. She remembered only feeling fear when the first guard struck her. Some part of her guilty soul believed she deserved at least part of what she was dealt. Chandra had been the one at the estate to turn in the guards or mock them with words and menial tasks. It wasn't until she felt hands on her instead of fists that something changed.

A part of her mind watched with cool disdain as her magic rose up and sought vengeance in her honor. It was like a tiny face with a crinkled nose that found the whole matter distasteful but necessary. Chandra had felt shut off as if it wasn't real. It was like when someone spoke and she didn’t understand what they said but her brain translated it a moment later. Chandra’s moment later didn’t occur until she had emptied herself violently on the forest floor.

She pressed a shaking hand into damp hair and realized that almost all of it was gone. Her long hair was now cropped close to her head and frayed at the ends from the fire. New tears came as she realized that the braid she always wore was gone forever. As she wept, she realized the ridiculousness of the tears, but couldn't stop herself. She shook her head and called to Frostwhite. The hawk had been empathetic enough to hold back from pressing in on her mind while Chandra fought to recover control of herself.

“They’re dead.” Chandra rasped once her mind hit her with the conclusion of her magic. “All of them?”

In her mind, Frostwhite showed her Deakon walking onto the charred scene where the guards had surrounded her. Chandra did not remember seeing or killing him, so it made sense. At least this meant his hunt for her was likely over and she wouldn't have to live with the guilt of his death on top of the rest.

“Find Matta, please,” Chandra said softly, her throat raw as if the fire had come up through her instead of the contents of her stomach. She felt the flurry, like a reverse snow storm, as Frostwhite took wing.

She crawled a few feet where she found a thick covering of decaying leaves underneath the thin whip-like branches that told her it was a weeping willow. Chandra wanted only to rest, but she fought sleep like a tiny child convinced it does not need to sleep. Like a child, though, sleep won.

Chandra found herself in the familiar deep cavern following the shadowy shape of a woman. The light from her lantern bounced around but didn't offer clarity on their surroundings. Now and again, she would catch glimpses of the woman’s face, but not enough to conclusively identify who she was. A new perception swept over her in the vision this time, and she shook.

Chandra heard that same disdainful voice in her mind as she had in the clearing of destruction. With its presence the foreign heat rose within her. It made her sick to remember what it was capable of. Her body warred with the arctic intensity that wrapped the rampant heat. Anger mixed with disdain; rage mixed with icy indifference. Chandra had listened to this presence in killing the guards and wanted it gone, never to be experienced or remembered.

As she continued down the corridor, whispers began in her ears. At first they were as quiet as the rustling of Frostwhite’s wings while he slept. The sound increased in volume until it was a maelstrom that made her think she had a storm blowing through her ears. Part of her mind recognized this was not part of the dark walk. Her consciousness pushed her to the surface.

Chandra couldn’t convince her eyes to open more than a slit because the rustling of sound overwhelmed her, making it difficult to do anything. She pressed her hand against her ear and peered through her lashes. The cascade of noises made her want to curl into a ball and cover herself, but she focused and tried to make out the confusing shapes and noises. Her brain tried to decipher the sounds to find their source, but instead found a million whispers speaking in a tongue she didn’t understand. Just as she began to pull words from the chaos, another sound silenced them.

A gentle melody rose, and Chandra thought of a lullaby. It was the oddest sort of music. The song was whispers mixed with humming and gentle rises in pitch like the songs of many different birds. As the music rose through the forest, a low hum sounded a continuous call as if in response.

Chandra pushed open eyes that had shut again and found the forest bright with unusual color. Where each tree had looked similar in its shades of green and brown to her before, they appeared changed and unique. The willow above her was in the same colors, but it was as if beneath the brown and green a vibrant blue, like crystal water flowed. A dogwood was colored deep brown of sickness and decay while an evergreen had its verdant bristles trimmed incandescent green.

A breath and the air was trimmed in hues as well. Chandra thought it looked as though the different trees and shrubs exhaled colors into the air. She rubbed at her eyes as if there was something in them making the forest look odd. Her fingers came away with only ash from the fire.

Suddenly, a white light stepped out from the forest and moved toward Chandra. She lifted a shaky hand as if to ward off a blow.

“Easy child, easy,” a familiar voice rasped. “Calm yourself. You know I will not hurt you.”

Chandra’s hand shook as she lowered it and watched the opaque light with Matta’s voice approach. She ran her tongue across her cracked lips, unable to moisten them and longing for a drink.

“Where have you been, Chandra? I worried...” Matta’s voice trailed off, and the light continued to move closer.

“Matta, where are you? I can’t see anything but light.” Chandra rasped back softly, her voice as dry as her throat. The light stopped moving toward her.

“What light, child? I’m standing right in front of you!” Matta’s voice scolded her with an undertone of worry.

“No,” Chandra mouthed, shaking her head back and forth. The light sent a thick, ropey tendril toward her and both women understood.

“How am I seeing you like this?” Chandra croaked.

“I don’t know,” Matta the light responded.

29

Chandra tried to speak again but no sound came out. She moved to shift her position and her hand found something hard and wet. She turned to look and saw a rock glowing and dipped down in the center like a shallow bowl. In the tiny basin was bright, clear water. Without hesitation, she leaned down to drink. The water was cold and soothed her raw mouth.

When she had emptied it, she leaned back and saw pale blue tendrils curve up from the ground around the rock and refill the tiny basin. Water and rock glowed faintly. Despite thirst, Chandra did not immediately lean down and drink from the water and instead watched it for several moments. She waited to see if the water would continue to flow from some invisible stream and overflow the tiny basin, but it did not. Once the little bowl had filled, the water stopped coming from wherever it came.

Chandra dipped one finger into the water was struck by the chill. It told her that this was not a natural water accumulation. Standing water in a forest would feel warm. She leaned down and drank slowly. She rolled the cold water in her mouth before swallowing. It tasted fresh and clean but mostly like ordinary water.

After quenching her need from several more drinks, she paused with her face inches from the ground and whispered, “Thank you.” As predictably and unpredictable as she could imagine, the water did not refill the basin.

Chandra turned her green eyes to the strange image of her wizened guide. Matta was no longer pure light but also not the Matta she remembered. Encased in the glow was a form like an old birch tree. Tendrils, like hair or mist rose from the form and drifted around her, sometimes reaching nearby shrubs or trees and other times sinking into the ground as though turning to root.

“Something has happened. Something has changed,” Matta whispered as she lowered herself to the ground. Chandra looked away, unable to face something so pure after what she had done.

“Nothing has changed,” Chandra rasped. “The ugliness that has always been a part of me has linked itself to my magic and poisoned all of me instead of just my attitude.”

Matta reached out, but Chandra moved away before the glowing limb could touch her. Matta left her arm raised for a moment before dropping her hand to her lap.

“I don’t want to poison you as well, Matta. I can feel the darkness that flows in my veins, and I don’t know how to control it.”

Matta said nothing. Chandra bowed her head and thought about what had happened. She saw the fire and death as she gloried in the rage that had been so thrilling and energizing. It had been euphoric in the way it lifted her until she came down to the nightmare of death. At that point, the horror took root and she ran from herself as much as the smoldering scene. Her body acted instinctually as if she were prey sensing a hunter.

“There is something wrong with me. Something taints me from the deepest part of myself,” Chandra began, her voice rising.

Matta said, raising one hand to stop her protests. “Your magic is different somehow. You are different, but I always knew that.

“Something horrible happened back there. I can smell it and hear it from the cries of the trees and life of the forest. I’m not sure I understand everything, but I think I know well enough, Chandra. I know the power inside you is strong and different in a way I can't put my finger on. I don’t think it's evil, though I think you have to choose how it is used.”

“Can you help me?” Chandra's voice was small and soft like a child's.

Matta laughed. It was a low rustling sound like a breeze trailing through dried leaves and the sound was soothing to Chandra instead of offensive.

“Those are the words I wish you had spoken when we first met. It's ironic that you ask now when I fear that you are beyond what I can do to help.”

Chandra closed her eyes to the tickle of moisture. Loneliness wrapped around her like an old shawl, but it was frigid instead of comforting. She remembered it though, and had hoped she would never feel so alone again.

A shrill shriek overhead made her raise her green eyes to the white feathered angel that landed beside her and butted her arm softly with his giant head. She reached out and gently stroked Frostwhite’s feathers.

“I think it is time for you to continue alone,” Matta said and stood. “Destiny tends to call rather urgently when you don’t expect it, and I can almost hear it shrieking.” Matta chuckled and picked up the walking stick she had leaned against a tree. Or perhaps the tree had provided her a new one, Chandra mused for a moment.