Frostblood (Frostblood Saga #1)

I needed to send out more heat. But how much was too much? The baby I had tried to warm, Clay’s brother, came into my head. Maybe it had been my fault that he died. Arcus had said I was wild, uncontrolled. Could I trust myself to do this?

Kaitryn let out another cough. I didn’t let myself think. I sent out a pulse of heat, then concentrated on keeping it steady and unwavering. This was a much softer process than making fire, just raising my own temperature. I could do this.

After a minute, Kaitryn’s cold little hand covered mine, then quickly pulled away. “Your hand is so hot.”

I held my breath, waiting for her to yell for help. Instead, she blinked and smiled. “I don’t feel like coughing anymore.”

“That’s good.” I fought the urge to laugh with relief. Carefully, I handed over the bottles and explained how her parents needed to administer the same medicine, always with heat.

She nodded. “I’ll remember.”

I smiled in approval. “Clever girl. Now here’s the important part. You need to buy more herbs when you get somewhere proper, like a village with an apothecary or a healer. Essence of wintergreen and spiny meadowvale.” I made her repeat the words three times. “A good healer will know the herbs by the smell,” I told her, “but in case you don’t find one, at least you’ll know—”

“Who in blazes are you?” said a low, threatening voice.

My head snapped up. Standing a few feet away was the man who wore the eye patch, obviously shocked to return from his rounds to find a stranger chatting calmly with one of the village children.

I stood up quickly, showing my palms. “Just a refugee like you. On my way to the coast.”

“And where’s the rest of you?” He scanned the woods. “The rest of your party?”

“Gone. Killed when the soldiers came.”

He shook his head. “They may burn our homes in a drunken rage, but soldiers don’t kill people, least not so many. Unless you’re caught hiding a Fireblood.”

I forced my expression to smooth and lifted my chin. “Well, I didn’t stick around to find out.”

“What were you doing?” He gestured to Kaitryn.

“Healing her. With herbs. Kaitryn, hold up the bottles.”

“Micha,” said the man, nudging Kaitryn’s father with his boot. “Dierle. Wake up.”

When they didn’t wake, his jaw hardened. “What did you do to them?”

“I was afraid they wouldn’t let me near Kaitryn, so I made them sleep more deeply.”

“You poisoned these good people with your foul concoctions? For all I know they’re dead!”

I shook my head. “They’re fine! They should wake within the hour. Check them yourself. They’re both breathing.”

He moved toward them, bending down to put his ear to their chests. As he half crouched, I saw the moment his muscles coiled just before he launched himself at me.





SEVEN



HE LEAPED WITH STARTLING SPEED. I grabbed the potion-soaked corner of my cloak and brought it to his nose. His arms wrapped me in a tight grip, but he took a breath, and that was his downfall. His eyes fluttered and I shoved him away hard with both hands.

I spun away and ran toward the trees as he shouted for help. In my panic, I went too far left and had to retrace my steps to find Butter. For a moment, I thought I’d lost her. Then her coat made a yellow smear in the dim light, and I wanted to cry out with relief. Thank Sud I’d left her saddled.

“Just me,” I said, low and reassuring, running a hand along her neck before hopping onto her back. “No time for sleep, girl. We need to move.”

The trees, though not chokingly thick, were too close for a gallop. We could only walk, putting slow and steady distance between us and the torches spreading into the trees as they searched for the intruder.

If I was lucky, Kaitryn didn’t have time to tell anyone about the temperature of my skin. And there had been layers of clothing and thick cloaks between me and the man who had grabbed me. They might give up the chase quickly, glad to have driven me away.

As long as they didn’t know I was a Fireblood.

Butter kept a good pace, especially when we came across a thin, frozen stream and were able to follow its banks unobstructed by trees. Eventually, the torches fell so far behind they were no longer in sight. I forced my tight muscles to relax. We had escaped.

As we stopped for the night under a bit of hollowed-out cliff, I chewed on that word like a dog gnaws on a piece of dried leather.

Escape.

That was all I seemed to do anymore. Run away. I had escaped the prison, the abbey, and now a camp of refugees. Was that what my life was now? An endless series of close shaves until my luck ran out?

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