Foresworn (5 page)

“Look at this,” I hissed, pointing at the bits of fire we’d sent to the ground. They were still trying to spark to life, but the snow was putting them out fast. “We should try and get more plants out.”

Arun shook his head, then waved his hand around. “It’s too widespread. We can’t risk going inside them.”

My stomach dropped to my feet as I took in how many greenhouses had caught fire. I counted six that had already been engulfed, and sparks were arcing in the air over several more. “Gods. I’m so sorry.”

The sadness, the complete devastation in his expression ripped through me, and I put my hand on his arm, squeezed. Then my fingers started to tingle. I panicked a second before I realized I’d put my notebook with attached pen in the back pocket of my jeans when I’d climbed back in my Jeep after the truck stop. I pulled the paper out and held still as my hand went stiff. The message must have been important because as my pen drew the runes, my norn kept pressing harder and harder until the pen actually went through paper a couple of times.

“She’s agitated,” I said under my breath. “This message is really important, I think.”

Arun watched over my shoulder, then read the runes aloud when I was done.

“Dark blood without rival.”

“I have no idea what that means. First she says music on the lake, then dark blood without rival.” I chewed on my lip, staring at the runes, wishing I knew as much as Coral did about our mythology. I was so gonna start studying more. That is, if I got through this. The fire had me concerned—I could admit it.

“I think it means dark creatures. They’re supposed to fight in the battles, right?” Arun looked around as if he expected to see them coming at us through the fire. “I’ve read ancient texts that referred to underworld creatures as dark blood.”

“‘Without rival’ is the part that’s making the hair stand up on the back of my neck.”

“Me, too,” he murmured. “I think it’s a warning. The dark’s rival would be us—the kids carrying the gods’ souls. If we’re not there to fight...” He trailed off.

“Then someone is going to try and take us out.” This time I looked at the frozen flames and noticed that some had started to writhe despite the
rune tempus
. It was the creepiest thing I’d ever seen—those slow-moving tentacles of fire that fought so hard for freedom. “I know the plastic is flammable, but didn’t this fire seem to spread too fast and hard? And how with all the snow still falling?”

“Magic. Which means it was deliberately set.” Arun sucked in a breath. “There were a bunch of kids in the barn!” He bolted.

I followed, his panic bleeding back into me so hard it stole my breath.

“If someone set this fire to kill us, it would have started in the old barn we turned into a main warehouse and place for everyone to sleep. It’s where a lot of the kids hang out.”

As we turned the corner on the last greenhouse, Arun skidded to a stop and I ran into him. I had to grab his coat to keep from falling on the icy path. Several kids stood there, and all but one turned to look at us.

“Watch out,” Kara warned. “We were hosing everything down and when this happened, it all froze to sheets of ice on the ground.”

Arun made a sound that stabbed into my heart, and I followed his gaze to the cabin. Stiff flames spilled from the entire building—the walls, windows and roof. Only one flame off the porch had started that slow dance. Arun jumped into a sprint toward the cabin. Tyrone, Kara, me and the other girl with red hair followed Arun.

“Wait,” I yelled at his back. “I don’t know how long this is going to last. You could run in there and then the fire could start back up.”

“His mother is in there,” Tyrone said as he ran alongside me before he sped up and ran side by side with Arun. I picked up the pace, as well.

Arun slammed into the front door, splintering it into pieces. “Mom!” he yelled as he disappeared inside.

“Please,” I breathed softly to my norn. “Please keep it like this a little longer.”

I actually felt her surprise but didn’t have time to ask again as the rest of us hit the door. I didn’t hesitate, running inside with Kara right behind me. Flames had engulfed everything in their living room, reducing what looked like a red couch and hand-carved furniture to piles. The smoke was thick in here—not as thick as the stuff coming off that plastic covering the greenhouses—but it still felt like inhaling rocks as we pushed through into the kitchen.

The heat was like nothing I’d ever felt—as if I’d stepped inside a crematory oven—and the blast of it burned the exposed skin of my face.

Arun was carefully trying to lift his mother, a slim blonde who wasn’t much bigger than me.

“I can’t tell if she’s alive,” he said, his dark eyes glittering with tears that could have come from smoke or worry. “And I’m afraid to bend her like this.”

“Here, I’ll take her feet and you hold her shoulders.” Tyrone helped Arun lift his mother. “Kara, can you get the back door?”

She’d already anticipated the question and had the back door open fast.

I looked around, not sure what I should try to save. I turned to go back toward the hallway I’d spotted to at least grab clothes for them, but dizziness swamped me.

The girl who carried Gullveig’s soul suddenly reached out and hauled me right off my feet before tossing me over her shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

“Hey!” I yelled.

“No time left,” she shouted as the world jumped into the
rune tempus
spin.

I screamed as she bent and all the blood rushed to my head. She swiped a blanket off the floor and I had no idea how she was moving with everything spinning as it was. But she threw the blanket over me and ran. Then she screamed as she jumped through a window. I could see nothing, could only feel us sailing through the air and over the front porch. She landed with a grunt and a cry, dropping me.

“How did you even know that was...What if the window hadn’t been that dir...you’re crazy! The world was spinning!” I scrambled out of the blanket and realized the lunatic who’d picked me up had caught fire. This time, I jumped her. I had the blanket wrapped around her before anyone else could reach us. Then I rolled us together in the snow until she started struggling.

“I’m okay,” she yelled, her voice muffled by the blanket. “You can stop beating me now.”

I realized I’d been smacking at the blanket, and I stopped and yanked it off her. Holding my breath, I expected to see scorched skin and charred, broken hair and instead she just lay there, grinning at me. “How are you not burned?” I asked as I pulled the now sopping and freezing blanket all the way off her.

She shrugged as she sat up. “I have no idea. I’m Gillian. Nice to meet you. And I can sort of walk through fire. It’s why we think I have Gullveig’s soul.”

I nodded, excitement sending me to my feet. “I
do
know that story. The Vanir goddess who kept getting burned by the Aesir.”

Another girl with short black hair dropped to her knees beside Gillian. Tears and black marks streaked her high cheekbones. “Gullin and Freya were in that first greenhouse.” She sniffed, offered me a wobbly smile. “I’m Sky. I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but nothing is nice right now.” She started sobbing. “Poor little guys.”

Gillian jumped up and ran down the hill. She didn’t stop—she ran right inside that first greenhouse.

“Is Alva okay?” Sky asked.

“Alva?” I looked around.

“Arun’s mom.” She wrapped her arms tight around her waist. “Did he get her out?”

“Yeah.” I walked around back to find Arun frantically hugging the woman, who sat bent over on a big tree stump. Harsh, racking coughs shook her thin frame.

He looked up, saw me, then bounded over the snowy hill between us to grab me and squeeze the breath out of me. “What you did,” he said in my hair. “What you did saved her. She’d passed out from the smoke, and she would be dead if it weren’t for you.” He hugged me tighter.

Gods, he was strong. I winced.

“Sorry,” he said, clearing his throat and letting me go. He stepped back, stared down at me. “Thank you so much, Kat.”

“It wasn’t me—it was my norn. But I’m glad.” That hug had been nice. I looked up to find him staring at me with a surprised look that held something else. Real interest. I took a deep breath to say something, anything, and a hard cough took me over.

Arun rested his hand on my shoulder.

“Got ‘em!”

Gillian’s yell made us all turn. I worked to get the harsh tickling out of my throat, watched her walk unscathed from a wall of fire. Her sweater was moving funny. She ran up the hill, laughing and gasping as she pulled a small creature from under her sweater. She handed one to Arun.

He laughed, held it up and kissed its grunting little face.

“It’s a pig,” I said stupidly, then cleared my throat as the coughing finally eased off. “They’re tiny pigs.”

“Babies,” Arun said. “They’ll get bigger. These are the best friends I wanted to introduce you to. This one is Gullin.” He held up the small black-and-white pig, and I had to actually curl my hands into fists to keep from grabbing it because it was freaking adorable. Gullin grunted and rooted around Arun’s neck like he was trying to wiggle as close as possible. Arun laughed and patted him. He looked at Gillian. “Freya’s okay?”

She pulled out another wiggling creature—also black and white—and grimaced. “I think she tried to bite me. Here.” She handed Freya to me.

It was my turn to grunt in surprise because she weighed more than I expected. “Are these teacup pigs?”

“Nah,” Arun answered. “They’ll grow to be a lot bigger than this. I’m not sure teacup pigs are even real. Think they all get big. But these cuties are potbelly pigs, so they probably won’t get as big as some of the monsters I’ve seen.” He held up the squirming Gullin. “You’d better not.” His smile faded as he looked out over the burning greenhouses.

The sound of sirens filled the air.

“Took them long enough,” Gillian said.

“Actually, it didn’t. Kat here stopped time, so it seems longer for us.”

“The greenhouses went up so fast,” Gillian said. She shivered, then began to lope down the hill again. “I’m going to save what I can out of the others.”

“Good idea. Wish I could walk through fire.” Arun turned and walked back to the stump where his mom sat wrapped in a blanket someone had found.

I followed, struggling to hold on to the squirming pig.

“Kat, this is my mom, Alva.”

The pretty blonde woman swiped at the tears on her cheeks and offered me a sad smile as she stood up.

Arun handed Gullin to Tyrone, then put his arm around his mother’s shoulders and hugged her close. She fit right under his arm—she really wasn’t that much taller than me. “We’ll rebuild,” he said softly and kissed her temple. “Kat’s one of us, Mom.”

“Oh.” Her smile this time had a little more brightness. “Normally, our welcome is a little nicer than this.” She looked down, spotted my burned coat. “Are you okay?”

I nodded. “I’m so sorry about your home.”

Her smile faltered and she looked up at her son. “What do you think started it?”

“I have no idea,” he answered, glancing at me. I knew he was thinking about our theory that someone started this to take out the kids. “I’ll go talk to the firemen,” he continued. “See what they can find out.” He turned to follow through, but another guy ran up and grabbed his arm.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. Is everyone else? Was anyone hurt?” The new guy wore his blond-and-black-streaked hair long and it flopped down into his eyes. He swept it off, leaving a black smear on his forehead. “We could see the fire from my house. The ash is everywhere.” He pointed. “It looks just like the snow.”

He was right. The ash floated around us, blending with the snow. I caught some on my palm, rubbed it between my fingers. The ash part left color, but the snow part washed it off.

“Kat, this is Branton. He’s our neighbor.”

“And best friend since preschool.” He winced, tilted his head and tugged at his ear.

“More like since you could both crawl,” Arun’s mother said. She hugged Branton close. “Is Carol here?”

Branton nodded and pointed toward the firemen. “A big group of men, some of them possibly single? Yeah, Mom nearly beat me here.” He tugged on his ear again, shook his head. “And watch. She’ll go for the one who is uglier than a mud fence.”

Alva made a beeline for the pretty brunette smiling and flirting with a couple of firemen. The woman promptly grabbed her and hugged her in a fierce clutch. Alva burst into tears.

“Best friends, too,” Branton said. “Damn, Arun, I’m really sorry this happened.” He turned and stared at the skeletal greenhouse remains. “The barn, too?”

“It looks like that went up first.”

The truth of what was happening was hitting Arun. His disbelief or shock or whatever it had been that kept him from really clueing in to what had happened wore away, and the utter wreckage on his face made me take a step closer to him.

“Damn,” Branton breathed. “All those supplies. The backpacks with the tents.”

The firemen had arcs of water flowing onto several buildings now. I shivered, noting that the temperature had started to drop.

Wind whooshed down into the valley and whipped my hair around my head. Suddenly I remembered the blankets in my car. “I have stuff to help keep some people warm. In my Jeep.” I realized I couldn’t see it. I’d parked it near that barn. “If it’s still there.”