ignite me / p. pevensie

chapter seventeen

Rowyn stood with sweaty palms as Lucy and Peter began to hug their siblings goodbye. She was terrified. For both of them. Two of the six people that she loved more than life itself were going to head somewhere that could turned dangerous fast—so fast that they don't have enough time to react.

Susan hugged Rowyn tightly as she did the same. "I love you, Su." Rowyn told her best friend, ignoring the burning in her eyes at the thought of her being injured.

Susan pulled away and smiled. "I love you more."

Rowyn rolled her eyes. "Oh shut up." Susan chuckled and went to enter the carriage that would take them to Calormene.

The moment Rowyn felt Edmund beside her, she threw her arms around the King. "If anything happens to you, I swear to God I will kill you." She told him as he held her waist tightly. When they pulled back Rowyn gave him a scared smile and then pushed him towards the carriage. "Stay alive, idiot."

Edmund turned to her before entering the carriage and flashed her a vulgar gesture quickly and then rushed out of sight and into the carriage as his laugh echoed a bit.

....

"Pentalin?" Rowyn asked as she looked through the library. The old Fae came forward, his silver hair glimmering in the candlelight. "Do you have any books on Calormene's history? I've been looking for hours but you have a lot of books." The large room—just as big, if not bigger than the Great Hall—was covered wall-to-wall with books and held two levels. Each level was full of so many shelves that it would take weeks to find what she needed.

The Fae thought for a moment. "I may have a few, but not many. A lot of books on their history has seemed to . . . disappear. It's quite odd actually." Rowyn thought on his words for a moment.

Why would books defining an entire countries history just vanish? What would drive that to happen? Thoughts shot through her head until she met his gaze again.

Rowyn smiled in relief. "Could you gather all that you have and have them brought to my room as soon as you can?"

The man smiled hesitantly. "Okay, but you will need to give me some time. Maybe two days or so . . . is that alright?"

Rowyn instantly nodded. "Thank you, Pentalin." She grabbed a bag of coins out of her pocket and placed them in his palm. "I appreciate it, I hope this helps your family well." Before the Fae could refuse the coins, Rowyn was already heading towards the door.

"Your mother would be proud—well not about the scrolls you burned—but of the Queen you've become." He told her. Rowyn's movements halted and she turned to him. "She wanted to free every slave in this world as well, but unfortunately . . . I'm sorry."

Rowyn gave him a small smile. "It's alright—I don't remember her much, but I hope she's proud."

Pentalin smiled at the young girl. "I may have a few of her old belongings from before the long winter, if I find them I will bring them straight to you."

"Did you know her?" She asked, curiosity appearing on her features.

Pentalin smiled, his soft yellow eyes gleamed with delight. "She was my best friend before—Adeline was a great woman . . . she loved you dearly. Her little Fireheart." As he spoke his tone became more laced with sadness until his eyes watered slightly.

Rowyn straightened her posture and offered him a small handkerchief she had in the pocket of her dress. Pentalin thanked her and wiped his eyes. "S-She called me Fireheart?"

Pentalin smiled once again, reliving memories of the Kind Queen. "Oh yes, all the time. Especially when you began to show signs of having inherited some of her gifts."

Rowyn ran a thumb along her palm and pressed in slightly. "Did she . . . did she ever master her gift?"

He shook his head. "You cannot master wildfire—it cannot be fully tamed. It's unpredictable and in the wrong hands could be catastrophic—it's pain and destruction . . . fire and blood—but in the right hands it is light, power, and strength." Rowyn smiled gently at the Fae. "I will say, however, you have gained good control over it. For Adeline, at first, it was difficult for her to control when she got angry . . . she burned some of my scrolls as well, actually, but as she grew up her temper calmed and her fire did as well. I can see that the same has happened for you—if I didn't you would not be in my library of highly flammable books."

Rowyn chuckled softly and held her elbow with the opposite hand. "I'm truly sorry about that . . . my temper was a horrid thing back then."

Pentalin waved a hand in dismissal. "Oh please. That fiery temper is what destroyed the White Witch—what avenged your mother's murder."

"I wasn't alone." She told him and released her elbow. "I would never have been able to do it without Peter, Edmund, Susan, and Lucy . . . please don't give me all the credit. We would all be dead if it weren't for the Pevensie's."

Pentalin smiled in admiration. "I'll begin searching for your books and give them to your handmaiden once I have collected them all." He said after a moment.

"Please," Rowyn gave him a grateful smile. "That would be lovely, sir."

The Fae bowed his head. "Have a good day, my Queen."

Rowyn smiled at him and bowed her head in his direction. "You too, Pentalin."