Oskar looks over his shoulder at me when he registers Jouni’s shock. “Oh, stars, Elli, you—you’re—”
That’s when I realize I’m naked. I may be immune to magic, but my clothes aren’t. All that remains of my gown and stockings are smears of ash. My boots are lumps of charcoal that crumble as I wiggle my toes. Oskar yanks off his fur cloak, which is blackened and full of large holes. He leans forward to spread it over me.
“Wait.” Jouni grabs Oskar’s wrist before he can cover my legs. “What’s that?”
He points at my blood-flame mark, stark crimson on my pale, goose-bumped leg.
Oskar tears his arm away and covers me. “The priests and constables attacked the women,” he says to Jouni. “Go make sure they’re safe.”
Jouni’s eyes trace over my copper hair and focus on my ice-blue eyes. “Is that mark what I think it is? Did those priests come here looking for you? I’ve heard—”
“Jouni,” Oskar snaps. “Now is not the time.”
“But I heard rumors that the Valtia had gone mad and run away! Did Elli do that?” Jouni points to the mountain of ice before us. The others are edging around it, staring at the terrified faces of the men entombed there. “I’ve never seen ice magic like that before.”
Oskar gives me a sidelong glance. “No. I did it.”
Jouni laughs. “Sig told me you were a wielder, but this kind of thing would have required—”
“Stop arguing and go see if the others are all right!” Oskar’s voice breaks as he sinks unsteadily to the ground, his teeth chattering. His back is covered in blistered patches I can see through the ragged, singed holes in his tunic. The ice inside him must have made him cold enough that his clothes endured the attack better than mine did, but he’s still injured.
I sit up, clutching his burned cloak over my chest and curling my legs against my body. I want to touch him so badly that my fingers ache. But Jouni is still standing over us, his gaze on me. “Harri mentioned that the priests were offering a reward for anyone who helped find her. And then he brought them here.”
“I’m not the Valtia,” I say quietly. Oskar gives me a sharp, searching look. “I’m not.”
Jouni stares at me for a moment longer before scratching a spot on his stubbly cheek and turning to the ice tomb in front of us. “Right.” He walks toward the cavern entrance, his shoulders tense.
My hands are on Oskar’s neck in the next moment, because I can’t hold back anymore. He sighs and leans into my touch, but then abruptly wrenches himself away, ending up on his hands and knees. “I don’t need your help,” he growls, getting up clumsily, his muscular arms swinging at his sides.
“Oskar.” His name is a plea on my lips. Does he blame me for this?
He stops with his back to me. “Now that he’s gone, tell me the truth.”
“I’m not the Valtia. I swear.” I rise, pulling his cloak around my naked body. The rocks dig into the soles of my feet.
“I can’t believe I’ve been so blind. Explain your eyes. Your hair. Your mark. Your ability to withstand magic. And then explain that.” He points to the ice tomb.
“You did that,” I murmur.
Oskar looks over his shoulder at me. “I might have ice magic inside me. A lot of it. I might even be a Suurin.” His jaw clenches as he jabs his finger at the ice. “But I have never done anything like that.”
“You know I don’t have magic.” But now I’m remembering what Raimo said, about how I could not only mute and absorb magic—I could also magnify and project it, as the Valtia does when she wears the cuff of Astia. I blink at the frozen dead men within the ice, and the weight of their vacant stares nearly bows my back. Oskar didn’t do this—not alone, at least. He worked the magic, but maybe I was the weapon, projecting it, turning it into a devastating force that destroyed anything in its way. If it’s true, then together we’ve just killed twenty men. My stomach turns. This is exactly the reason Oskar didn’t want the magic inside him. He never wanted to take another life.
Oskar’s granite gaze is crushing me. “I only know what you’ve told me, Elli, and you’ve told me very little.”
“Raimo told me not to,” I say, my throat getting tight. “He said my life depended on it.”
Oskar closes the distance between us and takes me by the shoulders. “You bear all the marks of the Valtia,” he whispers. “And she has magic so balanced that it wouldn’t be that difficult to hide it, not if she wanted to. She might even look immune to it, as you do, because she could counteract even the strongest magic with her own.”
“Maybe, but Raimo still would have been able to heal me if I were the Valtia. Do you truly think I wouldn’t have accepted that gift if I could have?”
“If you were desperate enough to hide, perhaps.”
I nearly kick him in my frustration. “Explain how I siphon your power, then! Not even the Valtia can do that!”
“Then tell me what you are!”