Ice Burns (37 page)

Later, Chandra would remember standing on the table and the howling roar that burst from her. People came to stop her, and they fell like a child's bone game. Niaz and another man were behind the first through the door, and she reached out to them. Her fingers curved as though she called for their hands when instead she was asking them to burn. Fire poured from her eyes to her hands, and she called them out.

The words tore across her tongue and her voice. The intent of the phrase was judgment though she could not have broken them into specifics. Blood dripped down her chin from any number of incisions, furthering the monstrous appearance their torture had created. She pointed with her flaming hand, and both men screamed as heat left them. Their bodies released their burning souls from their mouths, eyes, and nose. They ran while others arrived to gape in horror or swat at them to put out human infernos that had more fuel than needed.

Chandra's body turned and jumped to the window as something landed on her back. It moved across her skin, stinging and biting as it went despite the battered fire mage scrabbling at it. She ran as though whatever it was would dislodge from where it clung to her body. It had other intentions.

The unwanted passenger continued to move across her like a gargantuan spider until it wrapped a tendril of silk around her neck. It choked her as it fought to control her or feed on her. Chandra's body rejected the creature's intent and cauterized the affliction by setting her skin ablaze; her body burned and the creature with it. It shrieked as her body lit up in blue and orange that devoured even black soil at her feet. The mage stopped and let the flames roll across her skin like water. The creature shrieked for so long it seemed a part of the night's music.

The flaming creature could not hold her and dropped to the ground. The magic in Chandra reached out to touch the transgressor with one finger where it writhed and tried to crawl away.

It wasn't a spider, though very close in resemblance with a massive inky body. Two long tendrils like antennae or pincers protruded from its head. At the tip, they were pointed. The tortured remembered the agony of the invasion she had felt in her veins and knew the creature was the source.

Chandra hissed and reached down to place her burnt palm on the top of the thing that crawled, intent on returning the favor. She wrapped flaming fingers around the body and dug her nails into the upper part of its shell-like covering as though it was wax. New sounds came from it that she recognized from having made them herself. The vibrations of its agony shook her arm. With flexed fingers, the creature tore apart, sparking and burning in the dewy grass of the night forest.

Chandra stood. Ghosts of torture and the eyes of the men who had disregarded her existence other than the magic they stole. She raised her hands and eyes to the sky, howling her hatred into the night. Flames that continued to cover her like a second skin flared brighter. Under them, her mortal eyes teared, but blinking did not block her vision. Eyelids protected her eyes but did not stop her from seeing as though her skin had created a new protective membrane from the fire.

Chandra's body continued to light the night, but she felt no pain. The hair on her body turned to ash, and her wounds cleansed before being closed with new skin. Scars from her abuse at the hands of captors smoothed away as though the magical fire melted and reformed her skin. Chandra held out her hand and reveled in the flame that caressed her flexing fingers. Her left hand that had not called the fire seemed to glow blue under the skin.

The power was incredible; it warmed her blood and made Chandra feel stronger. It energized her as though she was made new. Her body shook with it and made her want to run, so she did. She raced through the forest like a glowing fallen star, hot and fast. Flaming Chandra turned back in the direction she had come, running on emotional intent. She let her fire guide her as though it could smell the evil that had been done and wanted to purge it.

When she found the inn, the howling rumble came out of her throat as though she were a wolf at the door. The barbed movement of the strange sound was quelled by the fire that drove her. A couple of men came out and raced at her to die. It was as though Chandra had ignited the air, and the moment they breathed it in, it suffocated them.

A few servants fled when they saw her, but they were not her concern. The guards who came out all thought they could take her and died for their arrogance. When no more guards came to die, Chandra walked forward and stroked the wood of the doorframe. It was as though her finger were a match on the dry wood of the building. Tiny flames, much like the one that had come away from the candle, now danced up the doorway.

"Deakon!" Chandra roared in her screeching howl. "Deakon!" she screamed again as she stepped inside the burning inn. The flames did not touch her, and she knew they would never hurt her. They were hers.

Inside the inn, the only sound was the puffing sound of the spreading flames. They crawled along the walls like a horde of insects. They ran along the floor, spreading out from her burning feet as she walked.

A sudden sound broke the silence, and Chandra turned. She heard a shriek, much like the one she had given, and cocked her head. The screech came again, and a name entered her mind: Frostwhite. She walked toward a closed door, and before she could touch it, it exploded from the middle out, scattering debris to either side of her that was quickly eaten by the flame horde. She stepped through the doorframe, burning footprints a testament to her path.

In the corner of the room was the cage that held Frostwhite. The magic on the bars glimmered like a heat wave. It was probably the only thing keeping the flames out. On the floor beneath the cage were two body-shaped ash piles. Chandra reached a fiery hand forward to the cage, and her friend shrieked again. She paused and looked at her flaming hand. She cocked her head to the side as she looked at the cage. Her rage continued to fire her blood, but part of her that remained separate from that dark energy pushed into her mind.

The hawk was her friend.

Frostwhite

The name cooled her tongue. He was her friend and had reached out to her at a point when she was friendless and alone. She looked at the ashy remains on the floor and reached over to pick up the cage from the top, where her flame-licked fingers would be farthest, and she carried it from the house.

Outside, she ran one finger gently down a single bar of the cage, melting it away as though it were a line being erased. After the bar had disappeared, the rest of it stopped glowing and crumbled to dust. The hawk shook his feathers and looked at her. He reached out to her mind. Through his eyes, she saw herself.

Standing before Frostwhite was a towering flame in the shape of a woman. Instead of hair, flames flickered in the wind behind her head like a massive mane of gold, red and yellow. Her nudity only ascertained by shape in the flickering flames and shadows, but her form waved with a fire that rose and ebbed with the direction of the wind.

Her face was frightening and feral. Her eyes were no longer hazel but orange-red like the last burst of light from a sunset. It was the look in them that brought Chandra back. That first glimpse showed hatred edged with glee for destruction. When Chandra saw this and felt her friend's fear, the flames died away. Without the hot energy, Chandra dropped to her knees. Despite the recession of the fires, the hunger for revenge still burned and she felt the sting.

Chandra lifted her eyes. Frostwhite had not moved despite her fearful visage. He stood stalwart; watching. She reached out for him and saw a new hand covered in soft, pale skin. Her brow furrowed at the normal-looking hand as it stroked the feathers of the great hawk. The bruises and scars from her treatment in the torture nowhere were gone. Her skin looked healthy and young. She met her friend's eyes and reached out to him; asking him to see her.

She was rewarded with the clear, full view from hawk eyes. In front of her friend knelt a naked young woman with pale alabaster skin, unblemished by sun or injury. It was smooth as though newly birthed. Her nails were long and clean but red tipped and hands that were soft and unlabored. Her face was the same as she had always known, though pale as the rest of her, and unmarked by life. Even the scar crossing her chin that she had gotten from falling out of a tree was gone. Her face was where familiarity ended, however.

Her hair had regrown and fell the length of her back, but instead of the golden brown it had always been, it was now a dark blood red. It looked like a fountain of spilled blood that had started to dry. Her eyes were the most striking change, however, in that they had not changed when her body had returned to flesh.

Her eyes continued to burn and flicker with the orange glow of flames.

She released the connection and nodded at her friend. Frostwhite called softly, and she stood. Even though she wanted to curl up and moan over it all, Chandra knew that she would need strength now. The change had happened because of terrible things but also because she let it burn her. It was time to put it all back together again and figure out what happened next.

"I don't want to know where you found these clothes," Chandra sniffed at the garments with her face scrunched up at the stench. "I don't care. I'm glad not to be naked."

Chandra said as she buttoned an oversized tunic over leather pants and a tight pair of thin boots. “I’ll need to find a new cloak and better shoes as soon as we can, though.”

Frostwhite looked up from grooming his feathers and clicked at her for a moment in an impatient sort of way Chandra took as both as an urge to hurry and a way of telling her to shut-up. He then went back to grooming his feathers.

Chandra sighed. “Is it crazy that I’m sad to have lost the book and my cloak?” Matta had placed the book about mythical creatures in the pack. It had been like carrying a piece of the old dryad with her. The cloak had just been a work of beauty, and warm.

She looked at her winter-colored friend who eyed her for a moment before shuddering once to fluff out his feathers at her. She always thought that was his form of a shrug. He returned to of at his feathers with his beak.

When Chandra had tied a loop of fabric through the last buttonhole to give a small bit of decency despite the raggedy shirt, she knelt down in front of her friend and stroked his feathers and thanked him for his efforts. His response was to click a few more times without stopping his grooming.

"We will find Deakon, though," she hissed as she looked at the burned out inn to her right. She had searched the place as well as she could. There hadn't been much and only a few ashy corpses from those she remembered handing a fiery death. None of the remains was that of her former classmate turned murderous opponent. Chandra thought it was too convenient to assume the fire had taken him when she hadn't seen him. She knew it would never be over until she faced him.

Frostwhite made a hissing noise at her, and Chandra started. The bird flapped his wings as he crab-walked sideways in front of her. Chandra reached out her hand to him, and he hissed again, almost striking her hand.

"What is it? What's wrong?" she asked him after recovering from the momentary shock from his behavior. Frostwhite kept rustling his feathers and flapping his wings; his beak opened as he stared. Chandra put both hands in front of her, palms out to her upset friend. As she did so, something caught her eye.

On the back of her right hand was a dark spot about the size of a mole but flat like a black freckle. She lifted her hand closer and touched the spot. The ebony skin was rough and hot under her fingers. As she did, her palm itched, and she turned her hand over to find that the inside of her hand had completely changed. From wrist to base of fingers, her palm as black as the deepest part of a cavern and a hot, rough texture. When she slid her fingers from top to bottom of her hand, it was rigid and like tacky leather, but when she reversed the direction, it gave her a chill. She got the impression she knew what it felt like for Frostwhite to have his feathers pushed the wrong way. It was bumpy and rough.

"Like scales," she whispered. The dreams felt all too real, and Chandra shivered. In fact, much of the chill from the earlier weather seemed muted as though she were inside a shelter. It still touched her, and she knew the night was cold, but the wind didn't seek to reach her skin and stab at her like before. Frostwhite hissed again and brought her attention back to him. Chandra closed her eyes and tried to reach out to his mind. Their link was somewhat awkward as though the combined force of their fears was creating a barrier. The connection became less like a conversation and more like a dream than it usually did. She managed to calm him despite her fears without knowing what was happening. The contact assured him she was still herself.

"Or as much as I can be without knowing who I am right now," she said as she opened her eyes. Frostwhite's feathers ruffled, and he watched her for a moment before launching himself into the air to find food. Chandra considered using the last bit of cloth to cover her hand but used it to cover her head of bright hair.

"Gloves would be good, too," she said as her friend caught an updraft and soared away. He called out once, and she took that as an acknowledgment.

Chandra threw caution over her need for sustenance and skinned and cooked a rabbit to quiet her painfully clenching stomach. It had been several hours since her escape, but she knew she needed to keep going.

Chandra walked the frozen road to Faust. The sun was dropping below the tree line and taking the temperature with it. The tips of her fingers were chilled, and she flexed them as she walked. Frostwhite hadn't found gloves, but he had brought her a pair of woolen short-stockings with several holes in them. Chandra had decided to rip a few more for her fingers.