“No.” The woods were so thick, the night so black. Where was the moon? Why was there no moon, no stars?
And with a shudder, she understood. “It’s in the wind.”
Her name, the seductive pull of the whisper. A stroke of silk on bare skin.
“You need to sleep.”
“But I am. Aren’t I?”
When she shivered again, he rubbed her chilled hands between his. “We should have a fire.”
“It’s so dark. It’s too dark, too cold.”
“I know the way home. Don’t fret now.”
He began to guide her, through the trees, away from the little licks of fog that flicked, sly as the tongue of a snake, along the ground.
“Don’t let go,” she said as the whisper slid and stroked over her skin.
“The way’s blocked, do you see?” He gestured to the thick branches blocking the path. “I’ll need to move them before we can get through.”
“No!” On a
spur of panic, she gripped his hand tighter. “It’s what he wants. Just like before, to separate us. We have to stay together. We have to hold on.”
“The way’s blocked, Iona.” He turned her now, looked into her eyes. His were dark gold, intense, unwavering. “We should have a fire.”
“The fog’s closer. Can you hear it?”
The wolf now, just the faintest growl through the black, through the fog.
“I hear it. Fire, Iona. It’s what we need.”
Fire, she thought. Against the dark, against the cold.
Fire. Of course.
She threw her arms out, out, lifted her face up. And called it.
Strong, bright, with a whip-snap that lashed through the creeping fog, made it boil, made it steam and die to thin black ash.
“To the dark I bring the light. Against the black I forge the white. From my blood I call the fire to burn, to flame high and higher. Awake or in dreams, my power runs free. As I will, so mote it be.”
A curl of fog snuck out, slithered close. Boyle lunged in front of Iona, threw out a fist.
He felt a quick pain across his knuckles. Then both fog and ash vanished, and there was only fire and light.
She saw blood well up across Boyle’s hand.
And woke with a jolt.
Morning, she saw now, the pearly promise of it glowing against the window.
A dream, just a dream, and she took a breath to steady herself. When Boyle sat up beside her, she reached for his hand.
And saw the blood.
“Oh God.”