I See Fire | Wattys 2021/22 Shortlist | ✔

Chapter Six

There was a wet nose in my eye socket. I shifted away, and a fever chill set my body shivering. Someone pulled my bedfurs tighter.

"Ad?" said a quiet voice.

"I told you to run," I mumbled.

"We did. We didn't catch it."

Thank the Lord. I wanted to cry from the hurricane of sweet relief Jem's words brought me, releasing a tension I didn't realize I was holding. The nose poked my stomach.

"Is that Grifo?" I reached out a shaky hand in the darkness. The air outside my covers was freezing. My hand met fur, then got licked. Grifo whined and stuck his nose in my face again. Jem pulled him away.

"Is he okay?" I croaked.

"Emma said it doesn't affect animals."

Emma had some explaining to do. "Where's is she?"

"Outside. She needed a moment to herself." Jem took my hand from Grifo's scruff and put it back under the bedfurs. I stopped shivering quite so hard.

"Help me up," I said.

He paused, then obliged. I huddled in my bedfurs against the wall behind me: a wall too straight to be stone. We were inside a house. There was a paleness where the roof should be—the cloudy night sky—but below that, I could see nothing but the half-black coals of a small campfire. It cast no light. I heard Jem reach for something.

"Emma said to drink this," he said, placing a cup in my hands. It was still warm, and the scent of tea mingled with a sourness I knew must be medicinal. I wrinkled my nose.

"I made it," said Jem.

I was glad the darkness hid the smile that tried to twitch my mouth. Emma was gifted with plant knowledge that nobody her age and training should have, and Jem haggled her into teaching him things every chance he got. His concoctions were easier on the mouth than anything made by his tutor, who had a high tolerance for bitterness and no sympathy for anyone who did not. I sipped the tea. The medicinal component was potent, but Jem had added a strong herb to cover it, and a sweetener, too. 

Emma knew a lot of things she shouldn't. My almost-smile faded again as my last memories before passing out resurfaced. I finished the cup and handed it back. "Alright. Explain."

"Don't take this out on Emma, okay?"

"I'll decide myself who I take it out on."

"Ad..."

"Explain."

He was responsible for Emma running back to the village to find me, and he knew it. If she had died, I would have murdered him myself. And I wanted to know what was going on.

Rather than answer, Jem shuffled about in the shadows. The campfire coals sparked as he tossed them a new bundle of fuel. I shielded my eyes against the light as a twig caught. Jem added wood until we had a small fire again. I lowered my hands. He held out his.

Black lines circled his wrists, barely visible against his dark skin. The bands varied in thickness, and dots, tick marks, and tiny interlocking triangles filled the spaces between them. Before I could process what I was looking at, Jem took my hands and pulled them into the light.

I had them, too. My tattoos were cuffs, three times as broad. Their edges had similar bands and patterns, but through their middles ran a blocky, curling design that some deep part of my brain told me meant fire. If I could have caught that part of my brain, I would have burned some answers out of it. I wasn't ready for this. The tattoos didn't smudge as I rubbed, then scratched at them. Something I desperately didn't want to acknowledge or believe was staring me straight in the face, and I couldn't wake up as I scratched harder, trying to break the dream with pain. Jem caught my hands and held them.