The Fire Queen(6)

“Have you ever seen anything?”

“No, but I imagine my soul’s reflection would be a wolf.” An apt choice. Brac is stealthy and sly, and his golden eyes shine like a canine’s. He bumps his shoulder into mine. “What do you see?”

I look into the campfire, uncertain what it will show me. My inner self has done some awful things. “I don’t see anything either.”

“Let’s try this.” Brac reaches for the campfire and plucks out a spindly flame as he would a loose thread. The filament of heat suspends between his palms, hovering above his skin. He rotates his hands, and the long flame winds through his fingers like a serpent weaving through tall grass. He is trying to cheer me up, and I cannot help but be amazed. The sight of him playing with fire is mesmerizing.

“Nature-fire is the last element the gods created. When the sky-god Anu bestowed godly gifts on the First Bhutas, the Burner was feared above them all. People saw her as a peril.”

“Her? The first Burner was a woman?”

“Her name was Uri,” Brac says. I stare, transfixed, as the flame twists between his fingers. “Uri knew she had to master nature-fire or she would always be feared, so she trekked up the highest mountain and spent several moons learning to manipulate a single flame.” Brac holds out the strand of fire. “Take it.”

“I don’t think so.” Brac has been training me to expand my abilities with soul-fire, but I am not ready for nature-fire.

“Kali, you can scorch and parch soul-fire as well as I can, but until you master nature-fire, you’re a danger. See this campfire? You cannot extinguish it without an outside source. You need a pail of sand or water. You can start the fire, but you cannot control it.” Brac comes nearer with the hot flame. “Anu created mortals in the image of the gods. Sky in our lungs, land beneath our feet, fire in our soul, and water in our blood. The First Bhutas were each given dominion over one of these powers. So you see, you have nothing to fear. You are fire, and fire is you.”

“But soul-fire is contained within the body.” I maintain a firm eye on the flame dancing over his hand, mistrustful of its cheerful movements. “Nature-fire is wild.”

“All the more reason to revere it. Galers respect the storm. Aquifiers idolize the sea. Tremblers worship the mountain. And we . . . we respect this. Soul-fire and nature-fire come from the gods. The only divide is how your mortal half perceives them. Your mortal side fears death and pain.”

“I wonder why,” I say dryly. Across the fire, Deven glances away from us, pretending he is not watching my lesson.

“Ignore your mortal half,” says Brac. “Listen to the half of you that connects to the gods. That is your strength.” He brings the swirling flame closer. “Hold out your palm.” I do not comply, so he lifts my hand. “Ready?”

Not at all. But Brac will not leave me alone until I try, so I nod.

He tips his hand and drops the flame into my open palm. The instant the fiery tendril hits my skin, I draw back in pain. The wispy flare falls to the ground and catches the dry grass afire. Brac extinguishes the small brush fire with the wave of his hand and then aims an accusatory scowl at me.

“You’re being absurd. You’re a Burner. You shouldn’t be afraid of fire.”

“Shouldn’t I?” I show him the scalding boils on my palm. They are minor, but they hurt.

Brac grasps my forearms and pushes in his powers, awakening radiance beneath my skin. Tiny rivers of soul-fire brighten up the veins in my arm. I gawk at the powers now visible within me. “You are fire, and fire is you,” he explains. “You cannot fear fire or it will turn on you. Burners are the ones to fear. Nature-fire will obey our command.”

Deven steps over to us, avoiding looking at the pathways of light running up my arms. “Brac, that’s enough for now.”