Frostblood (Frostblood Saga #1)(44)

My scalp prickled. She sounded just like my vision in the woods.

Arcus continued. “Suddenly, my agony was gone and I was in the abbey. I don’t know if she was real and brought me here or if I was… spirited here somehow. But many of my burns had begun to heal. Brother Gamut worked tirelessly to heal me completely. It took many months.”

Although his suffering horrified me, my heart warmed when I thought of Brother Gamut’s gentle hands and kind heart, as well as Brother Thistle’s determination that the order would always help those in need.

“Did anyone here see the woman? Did she give you her name?”

“No. She said only one thing.”

He paused.

“What was it?” I asked.

He sighed. “She said that the Fireblood girl would be the key to peace. It seemed to hurt her greatly just to say that much, as if something choked the words. I… I think it was Sage, the one gifted with the sight.”

“You said you didn’t believe in the old stories,” I reminded him.

“I said I didn’t believe in the prophecies. I don’t believe they all come true. I believe we always have choices. Even Sage can’t tell us what is going to happen. Only what might happen. And sometimes prophecies are just wrong.”

“So that’s why you took me from the prison.”

“That was part of it.”

I sat silently for a while, sifting through the details of what he’d told me. Arcus wasn’t a mercenary but a displaced noble, looking to heal the king he had known as a child. It made sense now that he had wanted to destroy the throne rather than kill the king.

But that didn’t mean I agreed with him.

“I wasn’t leaving,” I admitted. “I was just upset and I wanted to be alone. I wasn’t going to break my promise.”

I changed positions and let out a pained sound as my swollen ankle pulsed with the stab of a hundred needles.

“You’re hurt,” said Arcus, shifting toward me. “I’ll take you to Brother Gamut.”

“Don’t!”

But he didn’t pull me up. He blew out a breath that encased my fevered ankle in blessed cold. The throbbing calmed instantly.

“I think you have a bit of the healer in you, Arcus.”

“Let me carry you to the infirmary,” he said as he crouched next to me. “I have grown accustomed to holding this particular bundle of crackling firewood.”

My chest warmed a little at the hint of fondness in his tone, but I hesitated, struggling with my anger, my bitterness, and my sense of betrayal. He had shared things with me I never thought he would, though, and I couldn’t help the feeling of closeness that came from that.

He was careful not to touch my ankle as he slid his arms under my knees and behind my back. For once, the cold that seeped from his body into mine didn’t bother me.

“Damned ankle,” I muttered. “Always a trial and a burden.”

“Much like the girl to whom it is attached,” he mused.

I opened my mouth to say something biting in return but completely forgot the words as I felt his lips press gently to my head.

Heat flared over my skin. I told myself it meant nothing. It was a gesture of friendship. But a feeling of contentment persisted, calming me as much as the sound of his footfalls and the beat of his heart against my ear.

He pulled me tighter to his chest, and I let my suddenly heavy eyes close as he carried me back to the abbey.





FIFTEEN



THE NEXT MORNING I MADE MY WAY to the library, intending to lose myself in the dip and swish of brushes and ink. Sister Pastel had said I was making progress in the art of scribing and would likely be waiting for me.

Instead, I found the hunched form of Brother Lack writing furiously at one of the tables.

“Come to start another fire?” he jeered, rolling up the page, which then disappeared into the folds of his robe.

“You know I didn’t start it. Because you did.” The accusation was a gamble, a suspicion I’d had since the night of the fire. But I hadn’t had the courage to voice it before.

My gamble paid off. He looked startled, guilt written clearly on his face. “How dare you even imply…” When I gave him a disbelieving look, he took a shuddering breath and drew himself up. “I merely wish to protect my order, as no one else here is prepared to do so! I’ve seen the way he looks at you, a Frostblood warrior undone by a Fireblood girl. It’s disgusting. You went to his room, alone, and then just last night I saw him carrying you in his arms, a foolish look of… of adoration on his face.”

I was breathing hard, my temper fraying. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I care for Arcus as a friend—”

“Spare me your lies. If you cared for anyone here, you would relieve us of the danger of your presence.”

I made a disgusted sound. “There’s no reasoning with you. You’re not like Brother Thistle or Arcus or Brother Gamut. Your mind has been poisoned against me because of my gift. You say I’m dangerous, when it’s your people who have wiped out mine.”

“And what came before that? I lived in the South, where Firebloods rained terror on my people. I will not stand here while you twist things to make yourself the victim. Get out of my way,” he said, his chest rising and falling rapidly.