Fire Stones

Chapter 9

As the days went on, time seemed to creep painfully slow. My days were a whirlwind of confusion. I spent more time than I cared to admit thinking about Chance – and Varun – my mind slowly traveling from one to the other. I felt it now, the connection that Chance had feared and Varun had so longed for, the connection that meant that Chance and Varun were both linked to my heart, as if by an invisible but undeniable thread. I couldn't live without one; I couldn't live without the other. No sooner had I begun to fantasize about Chance's dark hair, matted with sweat, the flame-like hardness of his eyes, than Varun's image would appear before me, his toned skin and taut muscles and long, silky blonde hair. I thought I was going insane. I couldn't concentrate on schoolwork; I couldn't concentrate on helping out at the hotel. I was like a girl possessed. Memories appeared before me – or rather, intersections of memory and fantasy – images of me and Vesta, curled up against Chance, basking in the heat of the flames, or else plunged into the writhing depths of the ocean with Varun, shivering with the cold of the ocean and yet able to breathe. Were these memories of Vesta's life – or fantasies of my own invention? I did not know. I could not know. All I knew was that my life was not my own any longer. Vesta had taken over me so completely that Mac Evers, the girl I had once been, seemed to have completely vanished. My body was in a constant state of tension and longing – fear and desire mixing together. Around every corner there could be another enemy, another attacker. Every step I took was fraught with danger. And yet I could smell Chance on me; I could sense Varun's presence around me – and I was captive to the longing that left me breathless.

I did my best to avoid Varun. I couldn't think of him, I told myself. Not now. I couldn't allow myself to fall for him – not when I had promised Chance I wouldn't. But the restrictions I put on myself only made it harder: he was forbidden fruit, now. I would see Varun in the hallway, chatting with Haven, talking to her, his smile spreading so sweetly across his face, and I would want to melt, to run into his arms and kiss his salty lips forever. The first time I saw him in the lunchroom, the first time our eyes met since our last conversation, he smiled and nodded, and made as if to come over. He was as friendly and kind as he had been when I had first met him – and yet I found myself running away to avoid him, swiftly making my way down the locker hallway. I couldn't bear his bright blue eyes on me. I couldn't bear how I felt about him. He would see it, I was sure: he would see it in my face, in my voice, in my trembling hands and limpid eyes: he would know how much I desired him. And then I would never be able to resist...

It was inevitable. My hunger for him grew day by day. But I had to resist. I had to stay strong. I was with Chance, now: Chance was my destiny. And if my desire for Varun was growing, so was my ache for Chance. We had decided to play it cool, to keep our relationship secret at school, lest another one of Alice's cohorts suspect that Chance thought that I, in fact, was Vesta. But that only made our hunger stronger. Day by day we had to fight on the wrestling mat, our bodies twined together, our hair tangling together, our sweat burning together, feeling each other's racing pulses through the stiff gym-wear. What torture it was – to be so close to him and yet to have to stay away. We fought, our adrenaline coursing through our veins, wanting nothing more than to tear each other's clothes off then and there, to kiss in full view of Coach Matthews and all the students of Aeros Academy.

After wrestling class, Chance would pull me aside, yank me into a deserted corridor, push me up against a wall: his lips hot against mine, his body tight against mine. I would feel him kiss me with a ravenous need, as if he was afraid that this time would be the last time, as if we would never kiss again. “Don't make me lose you,” he whispered throatily, his hoarse voice hot on my earlobes. “I keep dreaming about it – you going into the ocean, the waves lapping over you, you vanishing in that water, never to return. So many nightmares.” He clutched me tightly until my skin was red. “Like last time. Just like the last time. I can't bear it!” He pressed me to him. I could feel my heart beating faster and faster, throbbing and pulsing beyond my control. I could feel the fire in his skin – the true power of his immortality coursing through him. How I wanted to close my eyes and experience the full fire of his passion for me!

“Not here,” I whispered, against myself. “Not now. Someone might find us....”

“If only we had more time.” He nibbled at my ear. “Then I would show you right now how much I love you. How much I want you.” He pulled away slightly, looking at me intently with dark eyes that blazed with passion. “When I lost you, Vesta – it was like being torn in two. I swear to you – half of me was missing. But now I've found you again. I know it. You don't need the stones to prove it – I know you are! I've never felt this way since her. I can tell. Your hair smells like hers – just faintly singed, and yet so sweet, like burning sandalwood or jasmine. And your skin is so soft – and yet beneath it your muscles are hard, taunt, ready for action. You have such strength, Mac – I can feel it in you now. I felt it earlier this morning on the wrestling mat. The power within you is truly extraordinary. I can't bear to lose you again.”

I looked into his face and saw that there were tears in his eyes. How could Vesta have done this to him? I raged against my feelings – how could I have done this? I tried not to think of Varun. I had to keep away, no matter what the costs. No matter what the stones did or didn't do. I couldn't get close to Varun. I couldn't betray Chance. I couldn't break his heart one more time. Even the idea of causing him pain made me feel a deep cracking agony in my chest.

Our nights were easier. We spent each evening under the stars, wandering through the mountainous regions of the island. He showed me secret paths and dark, hidden caves where Vesta's servants had built bonfires. He and I flew above the forests, under the moon, feeling the soft wind whip against our faces. It was a glorious feeling. I felt as if this were my destiny – to always be like this, flying through the air, scrambling through the mountains, smelling the fragrant jasmine flowers that grew all over the island. Chance told me stories: myths and legends of the fire gods from all over the world. “We all work together,” he said. “We gods of fire. We make it possible for the earth to stay strong – to resist the waves of water. It is a careful balance – one that must be preserved at all costs. The fire and water – warring against each other – produce in their struggle the balance necessary to save life on earth. Without Vesta....” he sighed darkly. “I don't know what will happen. The earth will likely be submerged in flood.”

“I want to be Vesta,” I whispered. “I don't like the Erosion any more than anyone else does – I want to help. I want to do whatever I have to do.”

But Chance looked at me in silence.

What I had to do to be Vesta was to ask Varun for help, to go down into the depths of the ocean, to let the power of the sea wash over me once again, as it had done for Vesta millennia before. To resist the desire I felt in my heart.

Was that the price? Discover my destiny – and break Chance's heart? I couldn't even bear to think of it. I wouldn't risk it – I wouldn't! And yet, in Chance's eyes, I saw the truth: I had to try.

And then the unthinkable happened: something that made the choice for me. I came home one Friday after school to find my mother passed out upon the living room floor. Her skin was pale – waxy-white – and she was barely breathing.

“Help!” I ran out into the field, towards the hotel. “Help!”

Antonio Cutter was there in a flash, accompanied by the hotel doctor – the best, he said, on the island.

At first we thought it was low blood pressure, a dizzy spell, a one-time thing. But as the days wore on, my mother got worse, rather than better. She was too weak to get out of bed; she was losing weight at an alarming rate. Her hair grew thin and her skin jaundiced. One by one, the doctor ruled out potential problems, a series of X-rays and MRIs and biopsies that left her weaker than before. I sat alone in the living room with Antonio Cutter, waiting for the doctor to finish taking my mother's blood pressure. But by the serious look on Antonio Cutter's face, I knew that this was no normal illness.

“Can't they figure out what's wrong?” I asked. “I mean, it has to be something, right?”

Antonio shook his head. “Aeros is a strange place, Mackenzie,” he said gravely. “As I'm sure you know. The sicknesses here – they are not like the sicknesses on other islands. They do not always have the capacity to be explained by science.”

“You mean...magic?”

“I mean mystery,” said Antonio Cutter. “And I doubt science can compete with that. I will seek a cure, but there are no guarantees.” He looked at me intently. “We cannot fight mystery with science. We can only fight it with other mysteries...”

The stone? He looked at me intently, and I knew what he meant. The sapphire stone of Vesta – the stone I had dreamed about. The stone of healing! Whatever was causing my mother's sickness, only the stone of healing could help her.

I gritted my teeth. Chance or Varun – it didn't seem to matter now. My destiny as Vesta had laid a challenge in my path: get my mother well, embrace my destiny, find the stones...

...or pay the price.