the sky and lets out a strangled, hoarse laugh. “Right. What a relief. Nothing has changed.” He pivots around. “I’d better hunt. The others are probably already in the forest.” He stalks up the trail, back around the crest of the hill.
I follow, swiping my hands across my eyes, reeling in his wake. I feel hollower than ever. If my doubt hadn’t grown like a poisonous mushroom inside me, maybe Oskar and I would still be on those rocks, his lips on mine, his hands on my body. Now he looks like he’ll never touch me again. And maybe I should be glad, because I’ve shielded my heart and his from the danger of my secrets, but instead I want to curl up on the stiff grass and cry myself dry.
A high, quavering scream pierces the morning, followed by several others. Oskar’s shoulders go stiff, and then he shoves off, sprinting full speed over the hill toward the noise. I follow after him, running as fast as I can, but by the time I reach the crest of the hill, he’s headed straight for the edge of the drop-off.
“Oskar!” I shriek, but a burst of fire spirals up from the opening to the cavern, and he speeds up, his long legs destroying the distance.
He doesn’t slow down as he reaches the drop-off—he leaps into open space and disappears from sight. It takes me another few seconds, filled with screams and shouts and smoke, to reach the edge.
What I see makes me choke with dread. Two women lie burned at the cavern entrance, their faces black, their hair and clothes singed away. Oskar, who somehow managed to make the twenty-foot drop without hurting himself, is standing with his arms spread in front of them, hatred flashing in his eyes.
Facing him are a dozen constables from the city, in matching brown caps and red cloaks, clubs at their belts. But they’re hanging back. They’re not in charge. Because standing in front of them are five priests—including Elder Leevi. He points a skeletal finger up at Oskar, who stands head and shoulders taller. “We have every right to search these caves,” Leevi says, his thin, reedy voice at odds with his threatening posture.
“You have no right,” Oskar roars. “We’re not within the walls of your city, and you’ve attacked a cavern full of women and children!”
“These two,” Leevi says as he wags his finger at the women lying burned on the ground, “were unauthorized magic wielders. They attacked us.”
Oskar’s face twists with rage. “Because you invaded their home!”
I drop to my knees, my fingers clutching the slippery hunks of grass at the edge of the drop-off. Either there is no Valtia and the elders worked together to create this heat themselves, or she’s on the throne and sent them here. Either way, they picked the perfect strategy to make their travel easy and to draw the men away from the cavern, eager to hunt and fish on an unseasonably warm day. Anger knots inside me—and confusion pulls it tight as I spot Harri, his dark curls shining in the morning sunlight, standing among the constables. He’s very still, like he hopes Oskar won’t notice him.
“We’ll clear out in the spring,” Oskar says. “Tell the miners they’re welcome to the copper in these caves once the thaw comes.”
“That’s quite a promise, coming from a pack of thieving murderers, but that’s not why we’re here today. We merely want to take a look at the young ladies,” Leevi says with a smile, just as two more priests jog out of the cave, giving Oskar a wide berth.
“They’re walled up in a small cavern at the back,” one of them says. “At least one is a fire wielder.”
Oskar pales, and I know he’s thinking of Aira and Freya.
“We’ll capture the unauthorized wielders and take them back to the temple after we find who we’re looking for.” Leevi turns to Harri. “Would you know her by sight?”
Harri’s gaze darts to Oskar, whose eyes go wide with the realization that the black-haired pickpocket is working with the priests. “I would,” Harri says.
Oskar stares at him. “What are you doing, Harri?”
Leevi pats Harri on the shoulder as he speaks to Oskar. “We don’t have to do this with violence. We seek only girls with copper hair and ice-blue eyes.”
“I assure you, the new Saadella is not here,” snarls Oskar. “None of our little girls have hair that color.” He nails Harri with his stony gaze. “And you know that.”