Kindling Ashes: Firesouls Book I (29 page)

BOOK: Kindling Ashes: Firesouls Book I
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/Giselle, what are you doing
?/

She coughed when she breathed in a mouthful of smoke. She could feel Baltair’s strength growing with the inhalation of gold but it pressed in on her throat. She slithered further down the tree trunk.

I can’t breathe up there!

“I can wait all day, girl!” the man snarled from below. She could hear him pacing. Another stone whizzed past her. At least he was not an accurate thrower.

/You can’t take the egg down! He’ll destroy it
!/

She turned her head to search and pulled the egg out of her cloak, pressing it into a hollow in the side of the tree trunk. The fire wouldn’t harm it. A flaming
pine cone
dropped on her and she yelped in pain. Another fell just short. Burning bits of twigs and needles were dropping all around her, scalding her skin one after the other. Even the Dunslade man backed away with a wary expression. She looked up and shrank away at the sight. Half the tree above her was aflame, and the bits that weren’t yet were starting to catch. She slid down again to a lower branch but she couldn’t protect herself from the falling debris. Her sleeve caught fire and she rubbed it against the trunk to put it out. But now the branch she was stood on had caught fire at the end and the flames were licking closer with every second she stayed there.

She was almost at the ground now, but the fire raced her and below Huw Dunslade circled with his sword drawn, grinning nastily. He knew she was only out of his reach for a
little longer. She looked back up at the egg but that part of the tree was entirely on fire now – she shouldn’t have left it there!

/The egg will be fine, it can’t be burnt
!/

She stared at Huw, not daring to look up. She could feel the heat increasing as the flames approached. There was no time left. A fiery
pine cone
caught him on the shoulder and he cursed, attention slipping. She did the only thing she could think of that might catch him off guard – she leapt straight at him, drawing her knife. It slid partway into him before he screamed in fury, batting her off with one easy swipe of his arm and pressing his hand against the new wound. She didn’t wait – she ran. But they were on the edge of the woods and it was open space; she had no chance of outrunning him here and she couldn’t let him get to the egg! She kept running anyway as heavy footsteps echoed behind her, glancing back to check. He was close, so close. She spun and darted out the knife again, leaving a shallow scratch before sprinting in the opposite direction. The whole area had filled with smoke now and the burning tree stood like a beacon. Maybe others would come, maybe Sarra could help – but maybe the Dunslades’ raiders would come instead and help Huw track her down.

She jumped over a fallen tree and turned as she heard him approaching, but this time a large hand caught the edge of her cloak. She choked as it pulled around her neck. A flash of metal was all that alerted her to the incoming sword and she threw herself backwards into him. He pulled the sword away to save himself and she jumped up, tugging the cloak free and sprinting back towards the flaming tree. It blazed, hot smoke filling the area making it hard to see and hard to breathe. Somewhere behind her was the Dunslade man, but as she approached the tree again she came to a halt and gazed up in horror. It tilted
from side to side – and somewhere inside that trunk was the dragon egg.

Something hit her hard in the back and she fell. She fought to start running again before she had even hit the floor but a strong hand pushed her down. She rolled, lashing out with fists and feet to try and get free, choking on the smoke. Her knife hit flesh but was thrown out of her hand. Her fist connected with something and she heard a grunt. The smoke was so thick and the Dunslade man’s hold on her weakened as he choked too.

The smoke turned yellow and red suddenly and the grappling hands disappeared. She didn’t pause for a second before leaping up and running. The colours gained more shape and she spun in the opposite direction as she recognised the shape of the tree, crashing towards her.

/No! My egg
!/

She sprinted, newfound energy rushing through her as she ran from the Dunslade man, from the falling fiery tree, and from the egg that would take Baltair away from her forever.

CHAPTER
27

/Let me out
!/

Corran jumped in surprise as Frang banged against the inside of his head.

“W–what?” he stuttered, shocked into speaking out loud.

Tilda shuffled away from him and down the gulley to poke her head up and look around. The forest was silent.

/You have the egg, now build a fire and let me out
!/

Now? With those Ikjorians chasing us?
Corran asked in disbelief.

/Yes! I’ve waited sixteen years–/

Well you can wait a few more hours!

“What is it?” Tilda whispered.

Corran rolled his
eyes,
wincing as a headache that hadn’t been there a few minutes ago grew. Frang was banging again. He hadn’t done that in weeks. “Frang wants to get into the egg, but we can’t stop for that! We have to get away from them!”

/Don’t go back on your promise now, Corran Dunslade
,/
Frang growled.

A shudder ran through Corran as he hauled himself out of the gulley, egg held close.

“I won’t,” he muttered. Did Frang think he was the same person he’d been when they first set out from Dunslade Town?

/Well if you let me be a dragon again I won’t have to doubt at all
!/

Tilda sent a worried frown his way as they hurried back in what he assumed was the direction of their camp. It was further away than he’d thought. Had he ran this far? The donkey still waited by the half–built fire Tilda had been working on and lifted its head when they stumbled to a halt. Tilda knelt and grabbed the small bag of fruits and mushrooms, pulling it onto her back.

“We have to get out of here, now.”

Corran nodded, taking the donkey’s reins.
A second later stars
blossomed in his eyes as pain forced its way through every inch of his head.

/No! Let me out NOW
!/

“Frang we can’t, there’s no time–”

/Please! Corran!
Let me out
,
let me be free
! It’s so close, what if something happens now–/

Frang’s terror flooded through him and the donkey brayed and bucked away.

“Corran?”

Tilda was right in front of him. The fear was clear on her face again and she reached out for his hands, gripping them as well as she could as he clung onto the egg.

“You go.
Get out of here
,
take the donkey
. It’ll give us away,” he muttered.

“No! Corran, you can’t keep pushing me away and running off, it’s not fair! I already had to once–”

Tremors overtook him and he stopped hearing. He tried to speak, but his mouth wouldn’t open. He stared into her wide eyes, freezing and burning simultaneously.

Frang. Please.

The pressure disappeared as suddenly as it had arrived and Corran dropped to his knees, gasping. His head spun and Tilda was just a blur hanging onto him.

“Build the fire,” he croaked.

She bit her lip, glancing over her shoulder. He knew the Ikjorians were near. He knew. But what if Frang was right, what if something did go wrong? What if Frang never got to be a dragon and they were stuck together until the sickness overtook him? Maybe it would be years but maybe it wouldn’t, maybe he’d start coughing tomorrow. His breaths turned into gasps and he staggered past Tilda, dropping to his knees and setting the egg in the centre of the firewood. He fumbled with two
branches,
rubbing them just like he’d seen the other Firesouls do every night at camp. But it wasn’t working, he could see he wasn’t doing it right but he didn’t know how to fix it. Why hadn’t he learnt how? Why had he always lingered by the horse?

Callused hands cupped his and he looked up. Tilda took the branches gently from him and began to roll them between both hands. He focused on her, aware of the donkey jittering on its hooves behind him. Sparks jumped up.

/Gold! It needs gold
!/

Corran stared numbly down at the egg. Gold. How were they going to get gold? Why hadn’t Frang told him they’d need it before?

A howl of what sounded like dragon obscenities echoed through his head.
/Idiot, Corran, you’re wearing it
!/

He reached down to grip the golden–hilted sword. Frang’s half–hearted protests when he’d taken it suddenly made sense. He’d been led straight to that cave. He didn’t pause before unstrapping it, throwing it blade–first into the growing flames.
Tilda stared at him in disbelief. When he didn’t explain she continued to build the fire.

A cry of triumph echoed through the forest and Tilda dropped the firewood she’d been carrying closer, grabbing Corran’s arm instead and pulling him to his feet.

“We have to run!”

“Soon, soon, it’s almost ready,”
Corran
mumbled, staring down at the fire and willing it to grow. He didn’t know if they were his own or Frang’s words. He didn’t care. He wanted his head back, Frang wanted his body back and they were too close to give up now.

“Corran, come on!” Tilda shouted, attempting to drag him with all her might. He twisted his arm away and turned his attention back to her for a second.

“You go, I’ll catch up–”

“No, I won’t leave you again!”

The donkey bolted into the forest as something slammed between Corran and Tilda, pushing them both to the floor. The Ikjorian woman dived for the egg, shouting words he didn’t understand as she scooped it out. She dropped it straight away – but it didn’t crack, it just rolled away.

/Corran, get it! Touch it
!/

He shoved past the woman who was leaning over a blistered hand. She knocked into him anyway and he tripped, flying towards the ground. He reached out both hands, his fingers scraping against the shell–

A weight lifted that he’d never known was there. He was free. He was light. He could fly if he wanted, his head was so clear.
The headache was gone
,
the fear was gone
.

A foot stamped down on his outstretched hand and he yelled
,
scrambling up as the second Ikjorian reached the egg.
She lifted it, her sword thrust out towards them as her partner stood, still cradling her hand. His own fingers were burning too, but he barely felt it. His own soul was alight with newly found freedom. Nothing had felt so easy before. He wouldn’t get the dragon
sickness,
he wouldn’t go through every day with Frang’s sarcasm in his ear.

The egg cracked and all four of them jumped. The two scouts faced Corran and Tilda, Ikjorian against Aulander for the first time in years, and no one cared. Every pair of eyes was on the egg. Another crack snaked down one side and the woman gripped it tighter.

A
black scaled
head pushed up into the world. It turned, looking dazed as it struggled to break free of the rest of the shell. The Ikjorian reached out to grab his neck and shouted when razor teeth bit through her hand.

The egg fell, crashing and freeing Frang. He tried to roar but only a bark came out. One of the women reached down and Corran crashed into action, flinging
himself
at her. They tumbled together to the ground, a muddle of punches and kicks. A fist hit his jaw and he thumped back until a screech filled the trees. He froze with the Ikjorian to see Tilda backing away from Frang as he beat his wings, baring his claws and attempting to fly. He screeched again at her, a tiny breath of flame coming from his mouth.

What are you doing? Leave her alone!

The dragon didn’t reply. Tilda’s eyes met his but she was helpless, forced to back away from them all.

The other Ikjorian crept up behind Frang, a net in her hands.

Frang!

The woman dropped to the ground to avoid the flames that came streaming her way, but her sword swung out at Frang and he had to jump into the air to avoid it. He couldn’t stay up for long, falling down a few feet away, and the woman advanced on him again. He sent a burst of fire at her and Corran’s heart sank as a blade touched his throat. The Ikjorian behind him muttered foreign words as she pulled his hands behind his back, tying them with rope and the knife never leaving his neck.

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