He whispered a spell, and the aura crackled hot through his blood. He held out his hand, and a perfect sphere of fire drifted from his fingertips, floating up to the blackened skies, its beauty breathtaking.
Emerazel’s power ignited his body, and he breathed in the smell of ash and briny earth. With the fire goddess inside him, he could still lose himself for one night. His skin grew hot, and he stalked again through the trees, with only the sound of rain and his own pulse roaring in his head.
41
Fiona
For three days, she’d left her room only when required. Silently in the early mornings, she ran with Lir. During their swims, she didn’t utter a word. Not that Lir seemed to care.
Through mealtimes, she’d wordlessly pushed her food around her plate, trying to force out the images of bloodstained hands swirling in her mind. She wasn’t even sure what they’d done with Rohan’s body, and she didn’t want to know. At least Lir hadn’t made her use a sword again.
As she’d been doing for most of the day, Fiona lay on her bed. She could tell by the goose bumps on her arms that a storm was rolling in, and the hair rose on the back of her neck. She had a sudden longing to take to the skies. It had been too long, lying here stagnating in her bedsheets.
Throwing off her covers, she wiped a hand across her cheek, drying a rogue tear. What she needed was reassurance. She knew it had been an accident but somehow still felt like a murderer. If Tobias had been here instead of Lir, it would be different. She could almost feel his warm, masculine arms and his soothing, earthy smell.
What was he doing now? She was a jerk for leaving him so abruptly, right after he’d just learned he was doomed to an afterlife in the inferno. His absence ate into her like acid, leaving a hollow in her chest.
She stood, pulling on a freshly laundered shirt and tying a scarf around her waist. Maybe she could talk to Lir. He wasn’t like Tobias, but it was worth a shot. After all, he was supposed to be her guide here, wasn’t he? Maybe he could help her sort through the chaos of her mind.
Barefoot, she padded to his room and knocked on his door.
“Yes?”
She pushed open the door to find Lir leaning back against his pillow, pen poised above his notebook.
“Can I come in?”
He straightened. “What do you want?”
Not exactly the welcome she’d hoped for. “I just don’t understand what happened with Rohan. Do you think it was…” She wasn’t entirely sure what her question was. “Do you think I’m responsible for killing him?”
Lir frowned. “I don’t think I understand.”
“I stabbed him. You said it was safe—”
He slammed his notebook shut. “We’ve been over this. I said the sword was safe, but I was wrong, because someone poisoned it. What more do you want from me? You’ve taken up with a group of murderers by your own choice. If you’re looking for me to make you a cup of tea and tell you everything will be fine, you’re in the wrong place. I’ve never told you everything would be fine. In fact, I’ve told you that you were making a terrible choice, and you stayed on the ship anyway. None of the other men want you here. Maybe if you’d listened, Rohan would still be alive. So I suggest you go back to your room and figure out what you need to do to survive here. You’re fragile, and your chances aren’t good.”
His words hit her like fists, and she backed away. She’d disrupted everything. If it weren’t for her, Rohan would still be alive.
Half in a daze, she found herself climbing the stairwell to the deck. Large waves rocked the ship, and the boards were slick. Thunder rattled the dark skies. Storm clouds tumbled over the horizon, and she had a sudden desperation to get the hell out of here.
Closing her eyes, she muttered the transformation spell, and the snapping of her bones felt like a blessed relief. She took off.
Soaring over the churning ocean, cold winds rippled over her wings. She’d killed Rohan. She’d run away from Dogtown to escape her fate, but of course she couldn’t. Wasn’t that what all those Greek plays were about? She’d been destined to murder. Even Estelle had seen that.
Lir hadn’t given her permission to leave, but she didn’t care. Maybe she wouldn’t go back. Maybe she’d risk a mauling at the hands of the werewolf queen to escape the Picaroons.
She wanted to wrap her arms around Tobias. She was an idiot for leaving him in the first place. But she wasn’t the same person anymore, and maybe he wouldn’t see her the same way. She’d stabbed one of her friends with a poisoned sword, and there was blood all over her hands.
An image flashed in her mind: Tobias’s panicked eyes when she’d declared she was leaving. She’d abandoned her friends for a pirate ship full of sociopathic demons. Maybe she belonged among the outcasts, but the loneliness cut her to the bone.