Thief Eyes - Janni Lee Simner [42]
If I gave the coin to Svan, it wouldn’t do anything for my fire, and Svan would find another fox to kill. I couldn’t let him do that.
Not even to save the world from Hallgerd’s magic, which I already knew could do as much harm as mine? Mom—Just thinking about Mom opened up a huge empty space inside of me. The sparks within me yearned toward that place. Offered to fill it, to burn the ache away.
No. I forced the sparks down.
“The coin, Haley.” Svan’s gray eyes were hard as stone.
“What if we send the coin back to Hallgerd?” What if we did what Katrin wanted? Thinking about Katrin made me want to dig my nails into my palms—but better that than hurting one of Freki’s kin.
“Don’t be stupid,” Svan said. “Hallgerd would only gain more power were the coin returned to her. Only your holding it keeps the spell in check, and even that protection will only last so long. There is no telling what Hallgerd will do once her own power is set free. She was very angry when last I saw her.”
How long ago was that, though? I’m content to live and die by Gunnar’s side. Maybe Hallgerd wouldn’t do anything after all.
Or maybe she would. I drew my arms around myself. It was nearly full dark now. Through the thinning clouds, a huge yellow moon rose over the water. I still didn’t want to give anything back to Hallgerd, but this wasn’t just about what I wanted.
Svan stepped toward me. Ari stepped toward him, teeth bared.
“Stop!” I told them both. “I—I need to think!”
Svan halted. “I need to get my courage up,” I said, thinking fast. Ari returned to my side. Fire or no fire, neither of us was stronger than Svan. That meant we had to delay him and get away—but how? The knife lay a few yards behind us, by the bowl. I wasn’t sure I could get to it faster than Svan could. All I had in my backpack were some chocolate malt balls, a bottle of water, and—a skin of mead. Mead that wasn’t drugged, but that was too strong for mortals to handle.
“Let’s have a drink,” I said—too quickly, but Svan didn’t seem to notice. “To help with that courage.”
Ari gave me a puzzled look, but the hardness left Svan’s eyes. “You did not say you had drink with you, Haley. The world can wait a short time more. Where is this drink?”
“In my pack.” I glanced at the overhang, lit by moonlight, half-covered by the boulder. I knew it wasn’t safe to go into buildings after earthquakes. Was a rocky outcrop any different?
Svan didn’t seem concerned—he grinned and headed for the overhang, his feet crunching through half-frozen puddles. As he dove beneath the stones, Ari whispered in English, “Do you really think that is wise?”
“Trust me,” I said, also in English. This had better work, I thought.
Svan returned and handed me the pack, which was still a little damp. He’d brought the last few pieces of driftwood as well, and he set them down on the beach. He slid a few pieces of papery wood beneath them, made a motion with his hands, and whispered words I couldn’t hear. A small flame caught beneath the wood. The fire in me rose in response.
With a whoosh the wood burst into brighter flame. I burst into flame, too, into fire reaching for the sky, even as the earth shook beneath me—
No! With a wrench I forced the flames down, down, down. I staggered back, sweat pouring down my face, knowing that I hadn’t really been burning, not on the outside. Svan’s fire kept going, not so brightly now. The earth was still. Ari caught me as I fell to my knees. “Sorry,” I whispered.
Svan gave me a long look. “This had better be strong drink.”
“It is. I promise.” I got to my feet, rummaged through the bag, and pulled out Freki’s wineskin. I pulled out the malt balls, too, inhaled a mouthful, and offered the bag to Ari, who did the same. Somehow we’d have to get real food eventually. I sat cross-legged beside Svan and handed him the mead.
Ari offered Svan the malt balls as well—less than a handful was left—as he sat beside me. The sorcerer shook his head and uncorked the