After the Fire (After the Fire: Book the First) (17 page)

Fin
shook his head. He didn't know if what he was thinking was truly
possible, or if his grief was making him soft. It was a ridiculous
thought. Love didn't create things, it took them away. Love meant
giving away part of yourself. And when that person was gone, the part
that you gave them was also gone. Forever. Fin spat bitterly on the
ground. A small leaf pushed its way through his spittle. It became a
vine and crawled its way up a nearby sapling. Fin looked at it for a
long time.

There
was no satisfaction in revenge, he knew that. He didn't want to think
about it, but he knew. He shook his head. It was no good storming off
when there was an enemy to focus on. He wouldn't be able to fight
Loki on his own any more than Eleni could. He advised her not to be
stupid and rush off on her own. He needed to take his own advice.

Fin
stood up. He would go back and apologize if he had to. Even if it
made him sick to his stomach to do it. He took a step back the way he
had come, but stopped and turned slowly. There was something nearby.
He could feel it. He turned around and scanned through the trees. He
took a step in the direction that the presence was strongest.

“Fin,”
said a voice into his ear.

Fin
jumped and felt his feet leave the ground. Eleni stood in front of
him, that almost-smile on her face. He found himself sitting on the
ground and narrowed his eyes at her.

“You
cannot always be the one that sneaks up on people,” said Eleni,
her voice almost innocent.

Fin
stood up and brushed himself off. “What are you doing out
here?” he said.

“I
came looking for you,” she said, watching him. “But I got
distracted.”

“Distracted?”
said Fin irritably. “What does that mean?”

“There
was a...bird-woman,” said Eleni. She lowered her eyes.

“What?”
he said. He realized she looked exhausted. Her usually pale face was
chalky and without color, her hair had come out of its thick braid
and hung in curling ropes around her, and her shoulders were hunched.
“Eleni, look at me. What's happened?”

She
raised her pale blue eyes to him and for a moment Fin thought he
would drown in their sadness.

“Did
you know that someone is watching you?” she said.

“What?”

“Over
there, in the briars.” She nodded past him to an overgrown
thicket. “A mortal, I think. He smells of smoke.”

Fin
turned to look behind him. The bushes rustled as Fin took a step
toward them. A figure emerged, popping up so quickly it was almost as
if he had appeared there magically. Eleni stepped up next to Fin and
he realized she had a ball of flame that she was fiddling with in her
hand. It spun like a top, her fingers moving lazily to keep it going,
as though playing with a child's ball.

“Who
are you?” said Eleni.

The
figure was wearing a cowled cloak made of a rough, brown fabric, with
a band of red sewn around the hem in a pattern that Fin couldn't
quite make out. The figure stood very still, face shadowed by a hood
that hung low over the person's face. Instead of running, as Fin
would have expected any
mortal
to do, the figure stepped out of the brambles and walked slowly
toward the two of them.

Fin
looked at Eleni. She still held the fire in her hand and was
regarding the robed figure with mild interest.

“That
is quite far enough,” said Fin. The figure halted and raised
hands to lower the hood. An old man stood before them, his dark eyes
trained on Eleni. He had a long, grizzled white beard and deep lines
that spread from his eyes and cheeks like spiderwebs.

“You
are here for me,” said Eleni. Fin frowned and looked at her. He
looked back at the man. He realized that the red that was sewn to the
hem of the man's robe was fabric in the shape of flames.

“It's
you,” the man whispered. He was breathing as though he had been
running, his breath rasping in the back of his throat in a dull
wheeze. “I've found you.”

“Who
are you?” said Eleni.

“I
am Cotiso of the Keepers of the Flame. I am a priest. We have waited
many years for your return.”

“Why?”
said Eleni.

“They
are worshipers,” said Fin. “A cult that prays to you and
offers sacrifices.”

“I
make fire,” said Eleni. “I cause burning and destruction
and despair. Why would you worship a god like that?” Eleni
brought a hand to her chest, grimacing. Her fingers sparked.

“With
destruction comes rebirth,” said Cotiso, a small smile on his
lips. “There are many that will rejoice at your rebirth.”
He bowed his head. “If you will allow me, I will bring them to
you.”

“Many?”
said Fin. “How many?” Eleni looked at him quizzically.

Cotiso
did not look away from Eleni. “There are nearly two hundred of
us, and our numbers grow with each moon.”

“Why
do they grow?” said Eleni, through clenched teeth. Fin frowned
at her, but after a moment she seemed to relax and took her hand from
her chest once more.

Cotiso
clasped his hands in front of himself. “The fire, my goddess.
The greatest fire that ever was. The fever that burned through the
sickness of the world. The stories say that you were displeased with
us. Not enough people worshiping you, praising your name. So now they
seek us out. Lest you should deem us unworthy again.”

Eleni
shook her head. “But, I–”

“How
right you are,” Fin interrupted. Eleni glared at him. “The
reincarnation of Zaric would be most displeased if she is not raised
on high.”

“What
are you doing?” said Eleni.

“You
are about to fight a very powerful god,” Fin said out of the
corner of his mouth. “The more followers you have, the more
powerful you will be.”

Eleni
glared at him, but he ignored her.

“You
must go to them now,” said Fin. “Eleni, the goddess of
fire will come to you soon to reward you for your fidelity. Do not
bring them here. Dangerous things are afoot. But go now and tell
them; tell them that Zaric has risen even more powerful than before.”

Cotiso's
eyes widened as Fin spoke. “Yes, my lord. It shall be so.”
He bowed deeply to Eleni. “My Grace. Thank you for your
generosity. We will await you.”

“Where
are your people now?” said Fin.

Cotiso
pointed toward the mountains on the western side of the woods. “That
way, my lord. A group of twenty followed me to the mountains, but
refused to cross with me. They await my return. Our village is not
much further. In the Valley of Bones.”

“How
did you know to come here?” said Fin. “Even the gods
don't know Eleni is here.”

“A
dream, my lord,” said the man, pulling on his beard. “A
raven came to me in a dream and told me to come. My brothers –
please forgive them – did not believe me. They said I drank too
much wine the night before. So I left in the night and came here.”
He looked adoringly at Eleni. “And found a most glorious
sight.” He raised his cowl again and his face disappeared. “I
will go now, and tell my people. We shall feast in the goddess'
name.” He paused and turned toward them. “My apologies,
My Grace. What is your new name?”

“Eleni,”
she said through gritted teeth.

“Eleni
of the Fire,” said the old man reverently. “It shall be
told.”

“Will
you be all right?” Fin called after him.

Cotiso
bowed as he walked backward. “I have come prepared,” he
said. “Nothing can slow me.” He patted a heaping satchel
on his hip. “
We shall go into the fire smiling
.”

“What?”
said Fin.

“It
is what we say. I will see you in this life or in the next.” He
turned and disappeared into the trees.

Fin
watched him until he couldn't see him any longer. Then he turned to
Eleni. She was staring at him. “Something wrong?”

“You
lied to that man,” she said, her voice cold.

“I
just saved your life,” said Fin. “You felt it, didn't
you?”

“What?”
she said, but she instinctively put her hand over her heart.

“In
your chest. A swelling of power when Cotiso saw you. You felt it, I
know you did.”

“What
does it matter? You lied to him. He's going to tell his whole village
that they have to live to please me.”

“Don't
they?”

“No,”
said Eleni, her voice rising. “They will live and they will
die. I have nothing to do with it. What you have done is what
everyone has done to me my whole life. You are the same as the men
from my village.”

“It
gives them pleasure to worship you,” said Fin. “It makes
them feel safe. It gives them answers about why things are the way
they are. I don't know what you think we will be fighting out there,
Eleni, but if I have to lie to give you power, to keep you alive,
then I'll do it. If I have to kill to keep you alive, I'll do it. If
I have to...” he stopped, staring at her.

“What?”
said Eleni.

Fin
shook his head, unsure what to say. It hung in the air, what went
unsaid, though Eleni was frowning at him, confused. How could he put
her in that position? They had only met days ago. And yet he could
almost see the words he had not said:
If I have to die for
you, I'll do it.

“One
man,” said Eleni. “What can one man's faith do? Your lie
is so much bigger than the power I could get from him.”

“He
was one man, but he will tell others,” said Fin. “On the
other side of that mountain, he has men that have followed you for
their entire lives. He will tell them. They will meet passersby,
perhaps, if there are any. They will tell them. They will return to
their village in a day or two and tell their brethren all about the
great fire goddess, Eleni.”

“We
don't have two days,” said Eleni. “We probably don't even
have one.”

“Eleni,”
said Fin, “You are going to be more powerful than you know.
Loki will cower before you. And I wasn't lying to him. You'll visit
his village when this is all over. I'll take you there.”

She
looked away. Fin couldn't tell what she was thinking. Her face was
impassive as ever. When she looked back at him she had softened. “Do
you think Loki knows where Anja is?”

Fin
frowned. It would be to his benefit to keep the Fates separated. Or
perhaps he had been looking for Eleni longer than they knew. “We
don't even know if that is Loki,” said Fin. Though even to his
own ears his words sounded empty. It was Loki out there, he could
feel it.

“I
miss her,” said Eleni, her voice hoarse. She took a step back
from Fin and angrily wiped at her face. “Why does it have to be
me?” she suddenly said furiously. Her eyes were wet and her
shoulders were heaving. “Why couldn't it be someone else that
holds the world together?”

“What
are you talking about?” said Fin.

She
shook her head. “It doesn't matter. Things were better when I
couldn't feel. When I couldn't feel anything.” She hid her face
in her hands.

“Eleni,”
Fin took a step toward her, “it's okay to feel sad for your
mother. You miss her. I understand. I'd do anything to be with my
family again. They're gone forever, and I can never see them again.
But Anja is alive. We'll find her. I promise.”

“I
wasn't talking about my mother,” she said. Her voice sounded
flat. Fin reached out to touch her, expecting her to pull away as
usual. But she didn't. He touched her wrists to pull her hands away
from her face. She looked up at him and his chest hurt. She was so
beautiful it hurt him to look at her. She shook her head and her hair
fell from her shoulders to swing in front of her in tangled red
curls.

“Nothing
can stop you from feeling,” Fin said. He wanted to touch her
face, to kiss her eyelids, to lose himself in her, but he couldn't.
She was so strong, had been through so much, but she was also more
fragile than anyone he had ever met. He didn't want to take advantage
of her when she was obviously verging on tears. She had been torn
from her mother so young, and then completely abandoned. The Fates
were cruel, to be sure, but Fin thought that something else was
happening. Anja had been protecting Eleni. But why? And how?

Eleni
pulled her hands from his and wiped her face. She had become stony
and impassive again. Fin had lost her again. It was like a mask she
put on.

“We
should go back,” said Eleni.

Fin
sighed. “Yes.”

They
started walking back toward the encampment, Eleni slightly ahead of
Fin. She turned to look at him as though examining him. “Are
you really angry that Magda called the gods?”

Fin
smiled ruefully. “I apologize for that. I had a moment of
weakness. I wanted revenge for my family. I wasn't thinking
logically. I only thought of how it would be to kill the bastards
that wiped out my loved ones.”

Eleni
was quiet for a long while and turned back to her walking. Finally
she turned back to him.
“I
can understand that. Wanting to kill the person responsible for
hurting the people you love. I would want to kill them too.”

“Thank
you,” said Fin, not sure what he should say to that. “But
sometimes you have to step back and realize you can't do what you
want without dying.”

“Sometimes,”
said Eleni, “doing what you want is worth dying for.”

Fin
smiled. “I suppose that's true, too.”

They
walked in silence for a long time, the only sound the crunching of
Fin's boots on the snow, and, just barely audible, the muffled hiss
that Eleni's bare feet made against the cold. Fin watched the sway of
her hair, the swing of her hips, the easy way she let her arms swing
as she walked. She was at home in the forest, much more so than the
way she was around people. In the encampment, she was withdrawn, as
though she did not consider herself part of things. She had a way
with the children, but Fin had never even seen her speak to any of
the women, and only spoke to the men when she had to. But out here,
she was a different person. She was more at ease and would talk to
him when they were in the forest. Fin realized that she was not as
guarded out here. If he had met her in the encampment, he doubted she
would have ever even spoken to him or given him a further thought.

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