Kindling Ashes: Firesouls Book I (6 page)

“Look, it’s great to meet someone else like us but we’re fine on our own–”

“Starving on the streets of Tyrun is hardly fine.” Sarra’s face was set, and Giselle had a horrible feeling she’d made some sort of decision that was going to affect her. “Your dragon would benefit from meeting others of his kind. So would you. And” – she held up a hand to forestall Giselle’s interruption – “it is not simply a matter of benefitting. It is a matter of living.”

Giselle frowned, but made no comment for now – she would just have to wait and see where this led. It sounded ominous.

“Human bodies are not designed for more than one soul. No body is. It is surprising someone like you has survived this long.”

“Someone like me?” Giselle asked.
Definitely ominous.

“Your dragon must be very strong to have avoided hibernation and I imagine you have not had the advantages of constant shelter and hot food to sustain you. How long have you been living on the streets?”

“I don’t know how old I was. I think there’s been about ten winters since then.”

“Since…?”

/She does like dragging up bad memories doesn’t she
?/
Voice commented, protectiveness rearing up to growl at Sarra.

“It’s okay,” Giselle said, although her stomach twisted with discomfort. Sarra looked thrown by her sudden address to Voice and they both took some amusement from that. Giselle didn’t bother answering the question. It was no one’s business but hers.

“Who
are
you?” Giselle asked. “How do you know all this?”

Sarra shifted and glanced to one side. Giselle felt a degree of satisfaction that she had turned the discomfort back against the woman.

“My family has a long history with dragons. My father was a Flier.”

Giselle longed to make a comment to Voice about the memory they had glimpsed before, but she couldn’t without giving it away to Sarra. She didn’t want this woman knowing any more than she already did.

/I know. It must be how I knew her before. Ask her again what she meant about surviving
./

She did so, not sure she wanted to hear the answer but unable to ignore it anymore.

Sarra sighed. “Your body is weaker. How thin you
are is
not just due to living on the streets. It is harder to build up muscle and you lose fat quicker. You are more susceptible to disease. After a long time the weakest Firesouls cannot sustain both souls any longer. Their body wastes away – and both human and dragon souls are lost forever when they die.”

She paused, watching Giselle’s face as the girl took it all in, unsure how to respond. Voice was more alert than ever, but with nowhere to direct his anxiety and worry for Giselle, he tumbled angrily in her head.

“So how do I stop it?”

“You need regular food and rest, to build up your strength.” She spoke straight over Giselle’s protests that doing so was impossible. “And the dragon needs his own body.”

“No!” Giselle shouted, jumping up from the chair. It banged on the table behind her, making Sarra jump.

“What do you mean no? Don’t you want your mind to yourself?”

“Why would I want that? Do you want that?” she asked, turning her attention on Voice.

Sarra stared at her. “Well, yes, I–”

/I do not know. I think I am most comfortable with you. I would worry about you if we were separated. But if it is the only option to keep you safe… well, to keep us both alive
./

“Well that’s what she says, but how do we know it’s true? We don’t know her,” Giselle replied, walking across the room and not caring if Sarra found her words offensive. Sarra stopped whatever she had been saying with the realisation Giselle was not talking to her.

/But what if she is telling the truth? I would not risk your life on the chance she is not, Giselle
./

“Well what is she even asking us to do?”

“Come with me,” Sarra said. “There are others out there now, trying to gather the Firesouls we know of to join us in the mountains.”

/The mountains
!/
Voice cried out, simultaneous to a bubble of excitement rising up within Giselle.

“To do what?” she asked, not allowing herself to get her hopes up.

“To release a new flock of dragons, and then protect them against any dragonslayers who come to finish off what they think is already done.”

She could not deny the interest that prompted in her and she could feel it in Voice as well. She – like everyone else she had ever come across – had thought dragons were gone forever. She knew Voice was inside her and occasionally they had considered whether there might be others like them, but the thought of there being living, breathing dragons in their own
bodies flying above the earth had seemed a fool’s dream – until now.

“Why now? Why are you looking for people with dragons now?” she asked, trying to drag out any extra information that might affect her decision, or confirm or deny that Sarra was speaking the truth. She didn’t get a reply straight away.

“…Because we realised the threat. The old Firesouls and the ones already ill got sicker. They died. We’ve run out of time.”

Giselle got the distinct feeling there was something being missed out.

“I have no money. If we leave the city I won’t be able to get any more.”

Sarra shrugged, motioning to the bag of gold set on the table. “I am not short.”

The idea of leaving Tyrun was unreal, but with every word Sarra said she became more convinced. Voice rumbled in agreement that this was the right thing to do. A memory of mountains, covered in pure white snow and bending pine trees flashed through both their minds and made Giselle smile.

“Is that a yes?” Sarra asked, leaning forward with half a smile of her own.

Giselle hesitated,
then
nodded.

“Yes.”

/Yes
./

“When are you leaving?” Giselle asked.

“Tomorrow.”

Her eyes widened. “
What?
” Looking around, she found that unlike her previous two visits the room was spotless. Next to the door sat a bag, cloak and boots.

“I was only waiting for the last delivery. There is no need to stay here any longer. I would leave today if it weren’t already dark.”

“But…” Looking for excuses against the abrupt departure, Giselle found she didn’t have any. She could run to get her ragged blanket, collect her delivery payment from Jox and be back in an hour. There was no one she needed to say goodbye to; nothing she needed to do. She didn’t even have to tell Jox she was leaving – he would find out soon enough when she didn’t turn up to ask for the next delivery. “Okay,” she agreed. It was sudden and she wasn’t a big fan of sudden, but she’d had to deal with it enough times in the past.

“You can sleep in here tonight,” Sarra told her, standing and bustling over to the table to weigh the gold. She seemed much more at ease now Giselle had agreed to go with her.

Tempting
as it was to stay in this warm room for the rest of the night, Giselle shook her head and walked over to the window. “I have things to do. I’ll be back later.”

As with every previous time she had left Sarra’s room, Giselle did not wait for an answer before slipping out of the window and dropping down to the cobbles below.

She had been right – it did not take her long to do what needed doing. Shrivelled but still scary Jox handed over the pennies once she’d reported, with only a brief mutter that at least she’d done better than last time. From there she ran to her shelter, circling around the west market square a few times to lose her watcher. It didn’t matter too much at this point if they found her hideout though. She collected her blanket and tied it around her, then offered one last glance to the place that had been her home for a few months now – ever since its last
occupier had grown too large to fit through the gap between the buildings.

That done, she headed further west.

/Is this a good idea Giselle
?/
Voice rumbled, clear of what her intentions were.

“Does it matter? I’ll probably never come back here. I just want to see him.”

He sighed, but she kept walking in the same direction.
She
was
a few streets away from the city walls
when she turned left to walk in the direction of the main gates. The houses were better quality here than the ones she lived around, but the roofs were still thatched and most were one floor.

She slipped down a familiar street, feet taking her on the route she knew by heart. She settled herself on top of a barrel bathed in shadow by the roof of the bakery it belonged to. Knees tucked under her chin and arms wrapped around her legs, she made herself so small in the darkness that only someone looking straight at her would notice her. Then she settled in to wait, eyes fixed on the home two houses down on the opposite side of the street.

There were candles lit inside; every so often she could see someone moving when a figure blocked out the light coming from the shutters. A baby started crying from within and she flinched. Another baby. That was new. Little Alis and Dylan would have another brother or sister – except they couldn’t be that little anymore. They weren’t
who
she was interested in though and whenever a particular large shadow appeared she found herself holding her breath.

/Giselle, this isn’t good for you–/

“Shh!”

All she wanted was to see him once – and yes, maybe to say goodbye. Just if he happened to come outside, and happened to see her, and speak to her–

/He won’t
./

“He might.”

As she waited, more patient than she would be for anything else, she tried to think back on the pleasant memories of her time with him. Eating dinner – in silence, yes, but together, and in the warm. She’d been so ill one time he’d brought a priest to try and heal her. Another time he’d let her come up with him onto the city walls for guard duty and she’d got a view over the whole of Tyrun.

Voice growled within her and she falteringly tried to growl back. Why must he ruin the few good memories she had? Just because it hadn’t always been so good didn’t mean the good times were worth nothing.

/He hurt you. He threw you out. He deserves no good feelings from you
./

“He didn’t want to. He only did because Eira said so.”

Eira had come into their lives when Giselle was young enough that her memories were spotty and incomplete, but she knew that had been the time she’d tried to end all contact with Voice.

/She just repeated what he was thinking. He hated you talking to me just as much as she did
./

She scowled at nothing as hot tears appeared in her eyes. She didn’t want to give Voice the satisfaction of saying that maybe he had been right, maybe she shouldn’t have come here after all. It was
all his
fault this was turning out so bad!

“He still looked after me.”

/I looked after you! Always! I gave you the strength to not go crawling back every time you were hungry, I kept you warm, I helped you learn how to steal–/

“I know!” she whispered, hugging her knees tighter. “But…” She struggled to explain what had made her come back here. The good memories were few and far between, but he had rescued her
;
a baby whose parents had been killed when he was fighting nearby. If not for him, she would be dead. He had clothed her and fed her and given her a place to sleep for the first years of her life. “I was safe here.”

The door to the house opened and Giselle froze at the sight of her guard appearing in the doorway. He walked over to one of the windows and pulled the shutter open, adjusting it somehow. It had been at least a year since Giselle had last come back to watch and in that time grey hairs had sprouted among the brown. He was as tall as ever and still wore his guard uniform from the day’s work.

She watched, not daring to move for several long minutes as he hammered in some extra nails. Voice was miraculously silent. Satisfied with the shutter, her guard closed it and turned to head back towards the door. Halfway there, he paused. His eyes met Giselle’s. They watched each other in silence.

It was broken all too soon – the baby started howling and Eira called for him to hurry up. He broke eye contact and within moments had disappeared within the house, door slammed behind him.

Voice said nothing, but she felt his desire to comfort her reaching out. She wrapped herself in it, slipped off the barrel and disappeared into the night. Tomorrow, she left her guard behind for good.

CHAPTER
6