The Impostor Queen (The Impostor Queen, #1)(85)

Sig stares at the ground. “I’m sorry, Maarika,” he mutters. “I didn’t intend to hurt you.”

“Yes, you did,” Maarika snaps. “But you were going to do it by hurting Elli. And my son.” She raises her head, and her gaze is full of fury. “There was a time when I loved you like one of my own.” Her lips clamp together, and she looks away.

Sig’s eyes are glossy with tears. His jaw is clenched as he struggles to keep them inside.

“Peace, Maarika,” Raimo says gently. “He’s going to help fix Oskar.”

I kneel at Oskar’s side. His skin is a ghastly grayish blue. I lay my head on his chest. His heart thumps once, sluggishly, weakly, but it’s the best sound I’ve ever heard.

Raimo sets down his wooden box with a clatter on the stone floor of the cavern. He looks so fragile, but his voice is full of authority as he says, “Take his hand, Elli.”

Aira and Ismael give him puzzled looks as I slip my left hand into Oskar’s right. His fingers are stiff and icy. I squeeze them.

“Now take Sig’s hand.”

“What?”

Raimo rolls his eyes. “Sig, get down here.”

The fire wielder squats next to me. He gives me a veiled look as I reluctantly lay my mangled right hand over his palm. His gaze traces my scars as he carefully closes his fingers around mine.

“Elli, focus on letting Sig’s magic flow through you. Magnify its strength and send it into Oskar.”

“Wait,” says Aira. “Magic flows through her?” She’s looking at me with hard suspicion written all over her face.

Raimo waves his hand at her. “Priorities, girl. I’ll explain all of it once Oskar’s breathing again.”

I close my eyes, waiting for the fiery magic to course up my arm. But I feel nothing. I open my eyes and look at Sig. “You have to give it to me.”

Sig’s mouth is tight. “There’s a fight coming. I need it.”

“Oskar will die if you don’t.”

He gazes steadily down at our joined hands. “And I might die if I do.”

“Now who’s the coward?”

A flash of heat blasts up my arm, but it zings back the way it came a second later. I sink my three fingernails into Sig’s flesh as rage fills my empty spaces. When Oskar touches me now, his magic flows so freely, like he’s offering himself. His feelings for me are the reason he was so weak when Sig attacked. His love for his mother is why he’s dying right now. I can’t let it happen. “Sig. Look at me.”

Sig peeks at me from beneath golden lashes, every part of him trembling with tension.

“If you do this—if you save him—I’ll go to the temple with you. I’ll help you take down the priests.”

Sig’s brown eyes are fierce on mine. “Swear.” I can smell his fear. He’s spent his life surviving, doubting everyone, looking out for himself. He holds his magic so tight, afraid he’ll be helpless without it.

It’s all he is, I realize. Fire is all he is. Without it, Sig doesn’t exist.

“You have my word, Sig.” My voice is a caress. I smooth my fingertips over the divots left by my nails. “Now help me save Oskar. I know you don’t want him to die.”

Sig closes his eyes, and immediately I feel the warmth bleed from his palm and swirl along my bones. My mind becomes a sea of molten iron. Lightning. Sparks. Raging infernos. I gasp as the fire creeps its way through my body, lighting me up.

“Build on what he’s offering and give it to Oskar, Elli,” Raimo instructs.

“I don’t know how,” I murmur, caught in the dancing flames.

He pokes my shoulder. “One would think you’re a useless hunk of copper, girl. Don’t you have a will? Use it!”

I bite my lip and focus, gathering the heat inside my hollow chest. I imagine kindling the fire, then scooping it up to my shoulder and letting it slide down my arm, straight into Oskar through our joined hands. But it merely sways and swirls inside me, flickering up before receding again.

“I think maybe you don’t want him to live,” Raimo taunts.

Sig’s grip on my scarred right hand tightens, and he offers me more fire. It overflows my chest and courses down my left arm, my wrist, my fingers. But then it hits the icy wall of Oskar’s skin and shrinks back. I push against it with all my might. Oskar is more than ice. He’s more than magic. Without it, he’s still a whole person, able to love and protect and laugh and live. My hand shakes as I force the heat toward him, willing his heart to move warm blood through his chest, willing his body to accept what I’m offering, to reignite the spark he needs to survive. Slowly I melt the frozen barrier. And then, all of a sudden, it gives way, and the heat pulses into him.

He lets out a shaky sigh, his breath fogging from between his lips. I tear my hand from Sig’s and throw myself on top of Oskar, pressing my cheek to his, offering him whatever warmth I have.

“My mother,” he whispers.

“I’m right here,” she says, her face creased with worry. “I’m all right. No burns.”

“Elli?”

I lay my palms on his rough cheeks and press light kisses across his brow. “I’m here.”

Sig gets to his feet, his boots scuffing against the loose stone. “But it’s time to go.”