Secretive and powerful, Fire Elemental Ci’erra is aloof, temperamental, and keeps a pet fire spirit. But she was young once and her story, along with the birth of her power, is a tale of fire, water, and blood.

Discover the harsh life of the Valian people, where Ci’erra was born and how she was found by the Church of Four Orders. For some, the difficulty of separation from family and intense training of Solaire is an easier path…

SECRET GIFT
Part 1

Light blossomed from Ci’erra’s fingers. Warmth licked across her skin, but didn’t burn. Not as long as she focused.
Medaska slapped her hands so hard they went numb. “They’ll catch you!”

Ci’erra glared at her older cousin as she sucked on her index finger. It stung enough she thought she might have burned herself like last time. But if so, it was Medaska’s fault. Ci’erra’s control was good enough she hadn’t burned herself, or anything else, since the last great moon. Fingers stinging with a return of feeling, Ci’erra crossed her arms to tuck her hands against her sides as a draft of wind filtered through the loose stone where the moss waddle had eroded. The breeze was strong enough to brush her cheek and ruffle her hair.

“They’ll come to take you away,” Medaska said, voice hovering between stern warning and worry. “We need you to fix the nets and help ma fish the stream, not play with fire and sit in some temple.”

“If the Priests come, I’ll refuse to go.” Ci’erra crossed her arms. No one would make her leave her home, not until it was time for her vwahalla when she would journey alone to the far lakes and return to a place as an adult amid the Valain.
Medaska snorted. She swept the one thin braid that emerged from thatch of her short hair over her shoulder. One braid to prove she was a girl while the rest was hacked to barely an inch from her scalp so that it was easier to clean and less likely to catch in nets or spear as she fished, which was unlike Ci’erra’s childish, long locks.

“Yes, a six year old girl telling a Priest she ain’t going to leave these salt covered rocks for a life of fine cushions and nice jewelry will likely be obeyed.” Medaska squinted at her through the faint light that filtered through the high, tiny window set in the earth and stone of the house.

Ci’erra giggled at the look on Medaska’s face that mimicked Dagny, the old woman of the village of Valin.

“Get out ye,” Medaska growled, waving her arms as if to flush stone birds to the air. “If ya’ll not work, then d’not slow me.”

Chased around the table in a game of wolf and fox, Ci’erra escaped the dark house by diving under the precious wooden table fastened from shaped driftwood and rolling out the door. Squealing in laughter, Ci’erra raced along the path at full tilt, balancing on the uneven rocks with easy familiarity despite the thick mist and speed. She left her older cousin behind to sharpen old fish hooks and shape new from the spool of metal wire.

From rough stone path to the tumbled boulders near the shore and river, Ci’erra dodged and wove between the stone and earthen huts, smelling the burning peat fires in one breath and the thick salt air in the next. Wind carrying cold salt spray lashed the shoreline. The air held so much dampness, Ci’erra thought it was raining. But when she ducked behind the massive boulders on the far shore of the river, the soaking chill eased. Rubbing wet, cold fingers, Ci’erra squeezed through the narrow slot between rocks larger than her parent’s house.

Beyond the tiny, rough gap the ground dropped and the space between the tumbled boulders opened into a wide chasm. Here in the sheltered vale small trees grew amid hardy ferns above a floor of moss. This was Ci’erra’s forest and refuge.

Ci’erra wove between small rocks and stunted trees to the center of the hollow. There, she’d peeled away the moss and lined the exposed earth with rocks, most of which were blackened or cracked now. But it wasn’t for her little fire ring that she’d come to her hideout.

Taking a breath to focus, Ci’erra held out her open palm and whispered, “Seifa.”

The air above Ci’erra’s palm glowed red. Ci’erra held still, brows scrunched and barely breathing as she fumbled with strengthening her gift. In a burst, warmth flowed from her chest and down her arm. The faint glow became flame which reddened to the color of the setting sun as it uncurled. Spikes formed teeth and talons, a long swirl became a tail until a small dragon made of fire stood before Ci’erra’s, it’s spiked head reaching as high as her waist.

“You came!” Ci’erra hugged the creature, unafraid of flame or teeth. Seifa, at least, had never burnt her.

Seifa offered warm breath to her chilled hands, prancing around her and leaving smoldering black footsteps on the moss in his wake. Ci’erra didn’t care. No one came here. Of the few other children in Valin, only Atle was small enough to fit between the entrance boulders and he was too clumsy, and small, to cross the river on his own. The rest were three babies and a half dozen older children who still wore long hair and were too young to hunt or fish.

“I called fire today from nothing but air,” Ci’erra told Seifa as she pet his flames like he was a wolf pup. “And didn’t burn myself. But then Medaska made me stop.”

Seifa hissed like the roar of wild flames the time Brage’s hut had burned. Ci’erra smiled at her little fire sprite.

“If I’d been able to control fire then, I could have saved Brage’s house.” Seifa pawed at her arm. “I was too young then, you know that. You were the first flame I called.”

Ci’erra gritted her teeth, focusing her memory only on the amazement she’d felt when Seifa appeared out of the screaming anger she’d hurled into the wind alone. For three months, Seifa had been her companion whenever she could sneak away from the village.

“When I grow up, I’ll be a strong Fire Elemental and I won’t hide you. No one in the village will dare threaten to send me away to Solaire and you’ll live in my stone house… though maybe we’ll live further inland so the ocean doesn’t bother you.”

As the day grew darker and wetter, Ci’erra and Seifa struggled to begin her first stone hut, rolling the largest stone she could move, which were almost as high as her knee, into a nook between two of the larger boulders that looked like a giant’s head and shoulder. She filled the cracks with moss and mud, but there was little she could do to make a roof. None of rocks she could lift were flat and Ci’erra refused to cut the twiggy branches from the little trees.

As the drizzly mist became rain, Seifa cowered under the tiny lip of the great boulders, whimpering hisses. Tears borne of frustration and an ache she couldn’t name made her snap at him. “Fine, go back. It is your real home anyway.”

Seifa sprang from his hiding place to her, leaving behind a vapor trail of steam. Cheek pressed against his flaming form, Ci’erra hugged her only friend. “I wish I could take you back with me now. I would if I could. Soon… I promise I’ll find a way for us to be together all the time soon.”

It was so hard, to let him fade into the damp air. Every time Seifa returned to where it was she summoned him from, Ci’erra feared it was the last time she’d see him. Maybe tomorrow she would wake up and not be a Fire Elemental again, just like she hadn’t been before the day she called him the first time. Or maybe he’d have found a less wet place to go and just wouldn’t come?

Her little refuge held an inch of spongy water and it was so much darker without her little fire dragon illuminating the space. Dampness was leaking into Ci’erra’s boots and through the rough hide cloak she wore over woven wolf hair leggings and shirt. Ci’erra wiggled out of the narrow entrance, knowing it was later than she’d realized. Her aunt would have dinner ready and she was late. In the pattering rain, Ci’erra stumbled to the river. It was high with the damp and tide, the normal stones she used to reach the far side were under water and barely visible in the gloom.

Already soaked to the skin in her second hand clothing long past its waterproof best, Ci’erra tried to navigate the swollen river not mindful of new wetness. She waded into the pebbled shallows, scrambling onto a rock that rose above the waves. A long leap lay between her and a second such boulder. With a deep breath, Ci’erra jumped. Her right foot landed solidly, but her left slipped on muck. Waving her arms to keep her balance, Ci’erra tumbled into the cold water.

She came up sputtering in water over her head, pushed up river by the strong tide. Her sodden clothes pulled at her arms and legs as she struggled to catch passing boulders. They slipped by her outstretched fingers, too cold to feel the scrapes of hard rock as she grasped for a handhold. Her head sank under the waves, but she kicked off the bottom to emerge the short distance to the surface.

Above water, she slammed into a stout piece of driftwood. The little breath she had left her as Ci’erra clung and crawled onto the limb where it was wedged between boulders. Over six times her height and as wide as her thigh on its small end, the branch created a bridge to nearly the shore. Ci’erra leaned against one of the boulders holding it fast until she caught her breath but not so long that the tingling numbness left her limbs. The water was still rising and she was already late.

Ci’erra tottered along the length of the beam, jumping into swift, knee deep water to wade quickly to the shallows.

Covered in sand and debris, Ci’erra stood alone in the wind and rain, tears of fright mixed with anger.

“I should have been born a Water Elemental!” she yelled into the night. That would have at least been useful.
Alone, wet, and tired, much less frightened for her life, Ci’erra tore at the power of her gift that anger created in her chest. She flung the burning heat at the wet stones of her feet. Flames burst skyward.

Startled, Ci’erra pinwheeled backwards, sitting hard on the stony ground with enough force she bruised her rump. The fire, burning brightly above stones, diminished in the rain and her lack of concentration. Ci’erra reached out a scratched hand that she could barely hold steady. With a breath, she reached for her power. The flames steadied. They were so warm. She was already late.

Ci’erra stripped to her damp skin and experimented with drying her woven shirt and leggings alternately with warming her brush burned and chilled skin. She almost called Seifa. His presence as she sat in the darkness on the stone beach would have been so nice. But then she’d stay longer. By the time she and her gear were close to dry, the rain had changed to mist again.

So Ci’erra ventured homeward with no path through the unfamiliar rocks. The fire left her blind in the darkness. She tripped, falling against a large boulder. Her next step banged her knee. Ci’erra kicked at the uneven path and felt the warmth of her annoyance, the warmth of her gift. Ci’erra held still. She was blind because she’d called fire. She could also call it to see.

Cautiously, Ci’erra used the warmth saturating her to create fire before her. It took a few tries before she managed to shape it into a ball that hovered before her, then a few more attempts to keep it formed and glowing while moving ahead of her. Slowly, she made her way through the labyrinth of stone and scratchy brush toward the village of Valin. Peat smoke in the wind guided her. But it wasn’t until Ci’erra tripped again, landing on her belly in damp sand, that she realized the light from the sphere worked best if behind her instead of in front. The last ten minutes of the walk home were the easiest between finding paths and the little fire orb that bobbed in her wake.

Dim lights shone from the high windows or between poorly waddled boulders as she emerged into Valin. The turf roofs shed rain in slow drips as Ci’erra dodged between the houses partially built into the earthen dunes. Finally home, she remembered at the last moment to snuff her conjured light before she opened the door to her aunts home.

Rik’ke stood with one booted foot on a driftwood bench as she gutted a long, silver river fish. The fine bladed knife sliced into the fish’s belly as if Rik’ke stabbed air. She flicked a sidelong glance at Ci’erra as the heavy door thumbed against Ci’erra’s back and pushed her a step forward into the room toward her quiet aunt whose efficient, short hair held the same orange as the flames that lit the cramped house. Rik’ke’s leather vest glistened with fish scales and fins from the work her sure hands accomplished.

Medaska’s dark eyes were large over her bucket of fish. The look was warning enough to tell Ci’erra that Rik’ke was in a mood. Tiptoeing as if silence masked her late arrival, Ci’erra slipped to a bucket overflowing with river perch. Medaska’s share to be filleted was half finished, the neatly deboned fish pinned to woven, twig drying racks lying in a stack to be smoked in the morning. Rik’ke’s bucket held less than six fish.

Hand trembling, Ci’erra reached for the knife sticking out of the barrel rim. A blow to her ear sent her sideways before she reached it.

“How dare you hide when there is work to be done!” Rik’ke stood over Ci’erra where she’d crumbled on the floor, boning knife still held in her hand. “You knew I was returning tonight.”

Ci’erra cowered from her aunt.

“I sent her out, Ma.” Medaska stood but kept out of her mother’s immediate reach. Rik’ke was svelte and fast though. No where in the small home was truly safe from her. “She’s barely wet. Ci’erra must have waited out the rain.”

Rik’ke kicked Ci’erra, draining the air from her once again. She didn’t hear what else was said from the ringing in her ears and needing to find a way to fill her lungs that didn’t cause them to ache.

When Ci’erra pushed herself off the floor, her aunt was saying “…and don’t you help her! Get up!” Rik’ke growled. Ci’erra scrambled to her knees, fighting dizziness as she clung to the bucket.

“Start working,” Medaska hissed.

The world not quite clear on the edges of her vision, Ci’erra hauled herself upright using the full bucket as a support. Wobbling, she clutched the knife handle on the second try and grabbed a fish. The knife sliced her hand but the fresh pain cleared her vision. Her blood mingled with fish guts as Ci’erra sliced open her first fish. If she were lucky, she’d finish before dawn because if she didn’t, Rik’ke would be furious.

VALIANT RETURN
Part 2

The air smelled of fish and peat smoke, no matter how strong the wind blowed through the boulders and sod houses of Valin. Ci’erra dozed by her aunt’s fire, though that would earn her a new bruise if Rik’ke caught her. Worse if the peat caught too strong and ignited the drying racks of fish. But Ci’erra wasn’t worried, at least not of the fire sparking beyond control, not her control. She felt the low warmth of the smoldering fire in her veins even partially asleep. Her aunt though… she was a different worry.

Ci’erra thought of calling Seifa to keep watch for Rik’ke, but his flaming form would be obvious compared to the tiny embers emitting rich smoke so thick the racks of fish fillets above were barely visible. So she dozed off her sleepless night aware of every sound while connected to fire.

“Al’vard!”

The half-heard shout bolted Ci’erra out of a deep sleep. The warmth of the fire in her veins ebbed, leaving her chilled. Shocked she’d fallen asleep, Ci’erra fumbled for her connection with the flames. They flared from a steady, low warmth to a bright flare despite the diminished pile of peat.

“Don’t waste the peat!” Rik’ke cuffed Ci’erra’s ear. “Or burn the fish,” she added as she walked past.

Ci’erra rubbed her stinging ear as more shouting competed with the shriek of shorebirds that echoed through the village.

“What is going on?” Medaska asked as she hung out the door with only the tips of her toes and a hand on the frame supporting her weight.

“I think someone has returned from vwahalla,” Ci’erra replied, smoothing the flames with power even though her cousin hissed at her. She tossed on new peat bricks with deliberate slowness. She didn’t need to worry about snuffing the embers or feeding them too little. “Haven’t you finished twisting the new fishing line?”

“No,” Medaska answered absently as she craned her neck as if that would be enough to see over the closest house and a dozen boulders to where the commotion grew louder. “Too bad you are not an Earth Elemental to make rope and shape hooks with a thought.”

Ci’erra threw her last peat chunk into the blaze, sending sparks shooting upwards.
Medaska yanked Ci’erra’s hair. “You think you can control a house fire if you catch it? That’d be a great way to reveal what you are.”

Ci’erra rubbed her scalp and glared at her cousin, but Medaska’s gaze had returned to the unseen gathering. “I wonder who is back?” Medaska asked, her voice wistful. “Liat’son left eight months ago and Raq’ell nearly nine.”

“You’re supposed to stay away a year.”

Medaska shrugged. “The traditions say at least six months. It was my mom’s journey that started seekers going for longer. Everyone thought she’d died.”

“Instead she came home with you!”

Medaska stuck her tongue out at Ci’erra’s teasing singsong. Rik’ke’s story of her vwahalla of a year and a month was legendary even among the Valain. Few had ever been gone so long or returned with such a rich load of furs and tusks from the far northern plain of lakes. And none had returned with a newborn babe atop it all.

Medaska’s next words were lost as the crowd cheered. Her eyes widened as hoots sounded closer along with the scrape of smoothed wooden runners against stone and a low snarl. From around the corner of the closest hut, a massive wolf lurched into view. Ci’erra slunk toward her cousin and the door.

Medaska snorted and pushed her forward. “Some Valain you are. How do you think you’ll make it to the lakes if you are afraid of your sled wolf?”

Eyes locked on the beast whose shoulder stood higher than Ci’erra’s head, she didn’t see who guided the beast until he leapt off the lightweight frame of bent saplings and driftwood skis.

“There she is, my good luck charm!” The young man dashed by Ci’erra and swooped Medaska in a hug that lifted her from the ground.

Ci’erra didn’t recognize him at first. His short russet beard glinted with gold in the sun while his hair was sun streaked blond. Broad shouldered and wrapped in a thick fur cloak, he looked more wild man than the Valain youth who would have left northward to trek to the lakes months ago. But Medaska knew him.

“Al’vard!” She hugged him in return as fiercely.

Al’vard pulled the cloak he wore from his shoulders and wrapped it around Medaska before kissing her on the nose. “It was your kiss goodbye that was my good luck charm.” He whispered something more in Medaska’s ear that sent her blushing.

Shouts and jeers encouraged a more passionate display, but Al’vard stepped away. He and Medaska were separated by standing now; Medaska considered a girl not yet a woman and Al’vard now a man since he had returned successfully from vwahalla. Despite the taboo, Medaska’s eyes followed Al’vard as he bowed to Rik’ke, whose lips twitched at his flattery.

“To the fire pit!”

“What did you bring back?”

“Show us!”

The shouts followed Al’vard along with the crowd as his wolf dragged the loaded sled forward, runners grinding against the stone path as they lurched forward toward the large fire ring in the center of the village. Ci’erra itched to see what he’d unload and display, telling the tale of each trophy as he shared smoked meat of strange northland beasts. The festivities would not end until every story had been spoken, and, by the look of the sled, that meant late into the night. Tiredness forgotten, Ci’erra stared after the last of the crowd who followed Al’vard.

“It is a nice fur,” Rik’ke said as she fingered the cloak Medaska wore. Draping an arm around Medaska, Rik’ke hugged her daughter as distant sparks jumped skyward from the hoarded pile of driftwood so carefully gathered for rare celebrations. “With a haul like he has brought back, he would make a good husband… and he favors you. When will you leave for your vwahalla?”

“Next month.” Medaska straightened, letting her mother’s arm fall away despite the rarity of such affection from Rik’ke.

“You’ll need to make extra fish hooks and line, fix a sled, smoke fish for provisions…” Rik’ke stared long at her daughter’s face. “But it can wait until tomorrow. Go, learn what you can from his stories.”

Medaska’s eyes widened. Before Rik’ke could change her mind, Medaska darted forward, running past Ci’erra with barely a glance as the ragged hem of the new fur cloak wafted behind her. Ci’erra sighed and sat next to the fire.

“You too, go.” Ci’erra stared at her aunt, certain she spoke to someone else. Rik’ke flicked her fingers at Ci’erra. “Go. It is important to learn what you must do to survive a vwahalla much less be as successful as Al’vard.”

Ci’erra leapt to her feet, stepped onto the path and then turned to offer her aunt a slight bow. Rik’ke snorted a laugh, the memory of the sound and smile on Rik’ke’s face stayed with Ci’erra as she ran the path to join the gathering.

By afternoon, Ci’erra’s belly ached from too much rich meat. Medaska lounged against Al’vard’s wolf in a place of honor as he pulled a long tusk from his half filled sled. He held it up to shouts, especially as he freed the matching piece from a shaggy hide. Holding the pair aloft, Al’vard shouted, “For the door of my house!” to cheers. Al’vard’s eyes slipped to Medaska.

“Will you really leave next month?” Ci’erra asked, slipping beside her cousin despite the wolf, who admittedly looked less frighting curled into a circle with nose tucked beneath a paw as it slept.

“I’d leave tomorrow if I were ready.” Medaska did not pull her eyes from Al’vard.

He handed the massive tusks to Medaska, the gesture not lost as adults nudged one another and nodded at Medaska’s growing blush. She quickly set them aside for display, though her fingers lingered on the beginnings of intricate carvings.

“Al’vard said I can use Gy’asha, his wolf, and even his sled for my vwahalla.” Medaska’s blush deepened. She hugged herself as she nestled into the sleeping wolf’s fur.

Ci’erra’s eyes dropped to the rough pebbles next to her boots. “How long will you be gone? Al’vard was away over ten months.”

From the corner of her eye, Ci’erra saw Medaska bite her lip as she stared at Al’vard. “Everyone wants me to beat my mother’s time, but the minimum is six months. I have so much I want to come back for.” Medaska’s gaze finally landed on Ci’erra as Medaska bumped her. “Even to you. Goodness knows what trouble you will get into if I don’t keep an eye on you.”

Tears stung Ci’erra’s eyes, but she was certain it was because she was tired. Medaska opened her arms and Ci’erra didn’t hesitate to curl against her cousin’s side despite the wolf. Gy’asha’s fur was soft and warm, a fire she couldn’t control but that held a lot of comfort despite the teeth and claws attached to it.

“I should let Rik’ke come,” Ci’erra said sleepily as Medaska ran her fingers through Ci’erra’s long locks, sweeping out tangles and bits of seaweed.

“She didn’t tell you to come back by a certain time. Sleep, little one, and then you’ll be better able to tend the fire and not… burn the house down.”

Ci’erra froze at Medaska’s hesitation, but relaxed again. She knew what her cousin meant. Not need to use her power. Not risk getting caught.

“I won’t. I promise.” Ci’erra closed her eyes, lulled by the slow breaths of the sleeping wolf and the gentle strokes of her cousin’s fingers. “I’ll miss you.” The words were tight as she thought of months alone with her aunt or staying in another’s hut when Rik’ke was away upstream fishing for days.

Medaska gave her a squeeze and whispered into her ear, “I’ll make sure you have a safe place to go.”
Ci’erra smiled, thinking she already had. Her little valley where she could play with Seifa. She wouldn’t really be alone. Smiling, she fell asleep.

FAMILY
Part 3

Ci’erra picked a snail off the strand of seaweed and tossed it into the ocean. She hated eating snail. Carefully, she bundled the long strand of heavy kelp into a roll with the others she’d gathered. The slick mound of dark green leaves rose to her knees and promised to soak her shirt when she picked it up to lug back to Rik’ke’s sled when she returned to pick her up.

But after days spent tending a smoldering fire to dry fish, Ci’erra didn’t mind the slick seaweed or cool gusts of ocean air that stung her cheeks. No one else wandered the lonely stretch of pebbled beach for as far as Ci’erra could see of the sweeping curve. A gray horizon, choppy water, black rocks coated with strips of algae and seaweed, and gulls diving for urchins were all that existed.

“Hello?” Ci’erra yelled, smiling that the only answer returned was the cacophony of irritated gulls and her echo. “Seifa,” Ci’erra called, stretching out her hand.

The little fire dragon erupted from the flame Ci’erra created as if he missed Ci’erra as much as she him. After days controlling the fire to smoke fish, it felt like nothing to conjure flames wherever she wished. Laughing, Ci’erra raced down the beach along the tide line with Seifa chasing from shore or jumping from rock to rock as close to her as he could reach. The ragtag race ended when Ci’erra leapt to a boulder that left her nowhere else to go but a dunk in the sea. Laughing she opened her arms to Seifa, who leapt to her with singeing warmth that dried her damp sweater.

“I know,” she whispered to the little fire spirit. “It has been days. But I couldn’t get away. I’m sorry.” Seifa exhaled hot air against her face, warming her numb skin. “I have work to do, but you can stay with me for awhile.”

Together, they walked back to Ci’erra’s seaweed pile. Seifa cocked his head at the thick bundle. “It’s for eating, silly. We dry it and add it to soup or wrap fish…”

She listed all the ways she’d eaten the salty seaweed as Seifa followed at her heels. It made her hungry but by the sun it was too early to break into the stick of dried fish she’d brought. Instead, she kept busy, dragging long strands of kelp to shore to start a new bundle or darting into the rocky shallows to reach ones caught in larger rocks. She risked wading along the keel of a wrecked boat to fetch a strand that stretched into the sea.

Seifa followed, sniffing the wooden ribs that curved above Ci’erra’s head as he leapt between them. Steam hissed from his claws as he held onto the stout frame and occasional hull boards. Ci’erra had to use a piece of driftwood and reach into the water where it lapped over slick, submerged boulders covered in barnacles and snails to snag the end of the kelp. Seifa howled like a small inferno when she nearly slipped and fell in, which left her laughing and clinging to the rib as water swished about her ankles. He bit the end of the seaweed and helped her haul it out of the water, even though it dampened his flame.

“Shoo, I’m fine.” Ci’erra flicked drops of water at Seifa who dodged them with a steamy hiss which sent her giggling. Her pants above her boots were damp and her belly rumpled an empty gurgle. The strand of seaweed rippled in the tide through the length of the wrecked boat. Satisfied her prize wouldn’t escape, Ci’erra sat where the keel curved upward to the stempost and chewed on her dried fish. Above her, the bow held intricate carvings that were marred from seasons of storms and rot, which seemed a shame for something so pretty. But pretty wasn’t important if it didn’t help you survive and the wood was so punky it wouldn’t even burn well.

“This was one of the great boats when my people still sailed on the ocean,” she told Seifa as she held out the stick of fish to him. He sniffed it before blowing flames at it. “No! It is already dried. You don’t eat, do you?” Seifa didn’t answer but chased after a gull that had landed to watch Ci’erra. It eyed her piece of fish with a hunger Seifa didn’t have. That gave Ci’erra something to do.

She tossed the snails she found coating the seaweed onto the rocks. Gulls wheeled and dove for them, which sent Seifa snapping and sparking as he chased them away. Ci’erra didn’t notice the work or the passing time as she tossed snails into the surf, trying to see how deep the gulls would dive and how far Seifa would hop from rock to rock from shore.

“What are you doing?”

A smack to her ear sent Ci’erra’s head spinning as she fell forward, sliding on slick rocks to plunge into surf. A rough grab hauled her out of the water, but she banged her knee as she scrambled to get her feet under her.

“You’re an idiot!” Medaska shook Ci’erra with each word. “If it had been Rik’ke and not me, she would have seen you! She’d know what you are then. Do you want to leave?”

“Maybe I do!” Tears stinging from salt water and tears, Ci’erra shoved her cousin, who dropped her. They both stumbled and pinwheeled, Ci’erra landing with a splash in shallow water.

Medaska had saved herself from a fall with a hand on a boulder. With dark eyes full of anger, she charged at Ci’erra, kicking water and flesh as Ci’erra curled into a ball, gasping air and water between waves and spray.

“Don’t you say that! You’re not leaving. You will never call fire again! And—” Medaska screamed.

Ci’erra peered between her fingers, expecting another punch. But Medaska scrambled backward, waving her smoking leg as fire ignited her pants. Not fire, Seifa. The fire dragon had hold of Medaska’s leg and his tenacious bite licked flames across the damp fabric.

“Seifa, no!” Ci’erra scrambled out of the water, tripping over stones in her haste to pull Seifa from Medaska. Medaska shrieked again and fell. Ci’erra grabbed the fire dragon as he jumped toward Medaska’s chest. “Don’t hurt her. She’s my cousin,” Ci’erra told Seifa between shaking sobs.

Medaska lay still, wide eyes riveted on her. “What is that thing?” She inched away as Seifa hissed sparks.

“I don’t know. A fire spirit?”

Medaska was as pale as Ci’erra had ever seen her, nearly as light as Ci’erra’s skin, which was unusual for her olive complected cousin. “How can you touch it?”

“Can’t you?” Ci’erra stopped realizing Medaska couldn’t. Ci’erra only could because she controlled fire. “I’m sorry he hurt you. You were hitting me and he’s my friend.”

Medaska kicked gravel at Ci’erra with her unburnt leg. “He’s a monster! Like you.” Medaska pushed herself to her feet, nearly falling again as her burnt leg crumbled. But she caught herself with her good leg and a hand on the rock that had tripped her. “Stay away from me. Don’t ever touch me.” Medaska hobbled toward the sled she’d left parked on the high bank of the beach. Al’vard’s wolf watched them with flat eyes that held no dancing sparks like Seifa’s. “Get your kelp bundles and bring them to the sled.” Medaska’s voice was the cold of sea storm.

Ci’erra trembled with fear and aches that cramped her stomach and numbed her hands. “You better go,” she whispered to Seifa. “I know you just wanted to help me, but you shouldn’t have done that…” Ci’erra was crying, not wanting to send Seifa away as he sputtered and pawed at her. “Go.” She said more firmly, adding a press of power. Seifa disappeared in her arms. Ci’erra fell to her knees.

“Now, Ci’erra!”

Ci’erra splashed water on her face, blood smearing her hand when she wiped her face dry. Medaska watched her without comment or expression as Ci’erra dragged the five bundles of seaweed she’d gathered to Medaska’s sled. When the last was loaded, she bounced onto the sled. “Gy’asha, go!”

Ci’erra tripped as she grabbed for the sled basket. Medaska pushed her away with a booted foot. “You walk.”

Ci’erra sat on the damp rocks watching Medaska, expecting with each held breath her cousin to stop for her or at least look back. She never did. Alone, Ci’erra sat for a few minutes in the brisk wind, listening to the gulls cry now that she was alone again. Finally, she staggered to her feet. The world wobbled a bit. Shoving the desire to call Seifa away, Ci’erra started the long walk to Valin.

Fog and darkness had swept in by the time Ci’erra smelled the smoke of burning peat. Hungry and cold, Ci’erra stumbled along the rough paths to her aunt’s door. It didn’t open at her push. Rik’ke answered her knock and stared down at her like Rik’ke didn’t know her. “Your parents are back from the hunt. Go there.” Ci’erra glimpsed Dagny smearing salve over Medaska’s blackened leg as the door closed.

Joy of the news competed with terror that twisted her empty stomach. Ci’erra floated on knees that felt as limp as seaweed as she walked to her parent’s normally dark house. Light glowed through the thin moss chinking and brightened the one high window. The door opened with a shove. Light and the smell of damp hides wafed out to greet her on warm air.

“There is my girl who is still afraid of wolves!” Ci’erra’s father swept her forward in a hug that slammed her into his leg and made her head ache again. “Now I bet you regret not facing your fear and walking so far.” He laughed.

Ci’erra’s mother with her unusual braid of golden hair wrapped around her forehead offered a warm smile from where she worked to thinly slice a hunk of meat. Empty drying racks stood as high as her waist. “I hope you are not too tired to work, my urchin. We had a good last run and lots of meat to dry for our stores and trade.”

“Yes, work first,” her father said pushing her forward toward the fire and stacks of meat he’d butchered and stacked. “We’ll talk about what happened at the beach later.”

Ci’erra’s hand trembled as she picked up the pile of thinly sliced steaks and started pinning them to the woven racks.

Part 4
Discovered

“We will have to find someone to watch you,”

“I could go with you?” Ci’erra ventured. Her mother snorted. “Only adults and those on vwahalla are allowed so far inland and to hunt. You know that, pup.” Sol’vi ruffled Ci’erra’s hair as she walked by with an armload of bones.

“I don’t care if you can start a fire by yourself, little one,” her father added. “You are not ready for the inland hunts.”

“Especially if you cannot keep a fire from spreading. It is good Medaska came along to put it out when she did so that the pile of driftwood didn’t all catch. You’d be the one roasted and not your poor cousin from trying to stomp it out.”

Ci’erra bit her lip to keep herself from correcting Medaska’s story. Despite the untruth, it was better than being discovered. Her parents were home. Ci’erra relished that, even if it came with so much to do.

The jerky slices rested on smoking racks above a smoky fire next to where Rad’aska scraped a hide. Ci’erra’s father took pride in the furs the trapping provided. Food, clothing, and bone to shape into tools, all came from the long treks her parents took deep inland. It meant her parents were wealthy compared to many Valain. It meant Ci’erra rarely saw her parents.

“Medaska means to go on her vwahalla despite the burns.” Sol’vi said, her voice holding admiration as much as worry. Sol’vi’s quick fingers sorted out bones with cracks or that had dried poorly, choosing only the strongest to be used as knife handles or scrapers. “Can you not talk to your sister, Rad’aska? It was an accident. Rik’ke cannot be that angry.”

“When will you leave?” Ci’erra grumped. They hadn’t been back a day and already the conversation centered around departing. She wondered why she was stuffing the mud coated moss between stones of her family’s hut. No one would be living in it in a week and it would all blow out again in the next storm.

“A few weeks. Your mother needs to see Dagny.”

Sol’vi blushed as she rested a hand on her belly and glanced at Rad’aska. Hope blossomed in Ci’erra’s heart. “A baby? Really?”

“Perhaps,” Sol’vi answered, but her cheeks sported red highlights as she smiled.

Ci’erra did as well. If her mother carried a child, she would stay in the village for at least a year. Her father might not journey as far either, not without her mother’s help. And then when her parents returned to hunting at least she wouldn’t be alone.

Ci’era worked harder at her chinking, pressing the moss deeper between the stones before smearing in more mud and another layer of moss. Babies needed warmth and hopefully some of her work would last that long. The next time her parents returned home, maybe at least her mother would stay.

The days passed quickly. Though Medaska would not look her way, Ci’erra learned the burns were not as bad as they’d look. Pink new skin quickly grew, visible between the bands of loose bandages Dagny made her wear. Al’vard brought Medaska strips of dried meat and bitter leaves from the islands downstream to brew into a healing tea. To Ci’erra, Medaska seemed to make out well from the injury as she didn’t need to join Rik’ke fishing and had more time to prepare for vwahalla than most. But her cousin still wouldn’t speak to her. Still, she kept Ci’erra’s secret and that was enough. Her cousin was leaving soon anyway and would return an adult. She would marry Al’vard and not have time to watch Ci’erra.

“Ok’gard could watch her,” Rad’aska commented one morning. The furs and smoking had been finished. Rad’aska and Sol’vi now only needed to sell the extra furs and meat before they would leave again. Ci’erra only had a few more days with her parents.

Sol’vi lifted a blonde brow at Rad’aska’s suggestion as she chewed on a piece of meat. “How would we take her to Leeta town?”

Rad’aska shrugged. “We could take the coastal path instead of inland. I haven’t seen my cousins in years.”

Sol’vi swallowed her mouthful. “If they say no—”

“A ship!”

The shout rang through the village, followed by a fist pounding on a nearby door.

Rad’aska leapt to his feet. “Ci’erra, bring the best furs. I will take the meat. Sol’vi—”

“I have the bones.”

Sol’vi was pushing Rad’aska out the door before Ci’erra had grabbed the awkward bundle of pelts. She staggered after her parents, struggling to see around the burden she carried while being certain she didn’t drag a piece on the rough ground. A crowd had gathered on the shore to wait for the smaller boat to approach the shore from the large vessel at anchor by the time Ci’erra arrived. Everyone had their best trade goods and Ci’erra had to push her way to the front, weaving around legs or between if she had to. Her parents furs would be the first seen.

When she reached the front it was to see the small boat ride in on a large wave that swept into the sea to leave it beached on the sand. A man older than Ci’erra’s father stepped over the edge, his blue robes with glimmering trim stitched like ocean waves fell around his ankles.

“High Priest Nuvahl!”

Ci’erra stumbled backwards. A hand caught her shoulder, fingernails pressing into her skin.

“He controls water, not fire,” Medaska growled in her ear. “He won’t notice you.”

Ci’erra froze but what Medaska said was true. The man walked past Ci’erra to greet Dagny with open arms. Forearms were clasped and backs slapped, including Rad’aska’s. Ci’erra relaxed as Medaska released her.

“I bring gifts from the Temple of Solaire!” Nuvahl said to cheers. “Wine from the archipelago and dried fruit from the southern shore.”

“You will stay with me, my little brother,” Dagny said, tears overflowing her cheeks. “It has been so long since you came home. Tell me where you have been?”

“I have something special for you, sister.” Nuvahl turned toward his boat, stopping when his gaze fell on Ci’erra. He froze.

Ci’erra clutched the bundle of furs tighter, burying her fingers in the soft pelts. That was what he noticed, she told herself. He wanted a fur for his sister.

Bright-eyed and slowly, as if he were afraid he’d startle a stone rabbit, Nuvahl walked to Ci’erra and knelt before her. “You are very special, child.”

“No.” Ci’erra stumbled back. She searched the crowd for her parents or Medaska. Instead her gaze fell on Rik’ke who sneered. Ci’erra stood straight and held her ground. She met Nuvahl’s aqua-blue eyes. “I don’t control water.”

“No, you don’t, little one. You are all fire.”

Ci’erra forgot to breathe. “How can you tell?”

Nuvahl smiled at her as a whisper ran through the crowd. Now her mother and father appeared, walking hesitantly to stand behind Nuvahl. Rad’aska looked at her curiously, but Sol’vi’s expression was disappointment. She sighed.

“There are sparks all around you, child.” Nuvhal regarded her, waiting until Ci’erra looked at him again. He offered a kind smile. “How long have you been able to control fire?”

“A… few months.”

“You did not tell me this, Rik’ke!” Sol’vi rounded on her sister-by-marriage. “I leave you my daughter and come home to a fire witch?”

“I did not know,” Rik’ke snapped. “If she controls fire how did my daughter get burned?”

A chill rushed through Ci’erra. The angry gaze of Medaska standing next to Rik’ke set Ci’erra trembling. “It was an accident. Seifa didn’t mean to hurt her but she pushed me down and—”

Nuvahl caught her as she stumbled backwards, nearly falling on the uneven stones. “Who is Seifa, child?”

“My friend.” Tears stung Ci’erra’s eyes. Medaska spit at her feet. “You were kicking me!” She yelled at her cousin, anger fueling warmth. “I couldn’t breathe.” Without thinking, Ci’erra turned from the cold eyes of her family and stretched out a hand. “Seifa!”

Fire uncurled from the damp stones of the beach like a sea rose bloomed from the air. With a rush of heat, the tiny fire spout elongated into the form of a small dragon. Seifa bounded into Ci’erra’s arms. She hugged the small flaming creature to her chest.

“He protected me,” Ci’erra said into the quiet that had fallen over the crowd. Seifa looked at Meduska and hissed sparks.

Nuvahl sat on his heels, eyes so wide she could see the whites all around the bright blue. “You are a very special little girl,” he said in a whisper.

Dagny took Ci’erra to her house. The old healer layered blankets near the fire. Ci’erra sat with her back to the stone wall and Seifa in her arms despite the occasional worried glance Dagny sent her way.

“She will come with me to Solaire to be trained,” Nuvahl said to her parents.

“Fine,” Rad’aska said. “We need payment for our loss.”

“I should get the payment,” Rik’ke said, the words holding an icy bite. “She has been in my care more than yours since her birth.”

“And yet you didn’t know she was a Fire Elemental.” Sol’vi glared at Rik’ke who looked ready to hit her.

“I want to go on my vwahalla first.” Ci’erra scrambled to her feet, the emptiness that had filled her since the beach finally receding. Seifa leapt from her arms. Ci’erra waved him toward the fire. “It is my right as a Valain. I will prove I am an adult.”

“She would be the youngest to have gone.” Sol’vi’s thoughtful gaze fell on her husband. “I had hoped she would break your record, Rik’ke, but I would accept being the mother to the youngest to leave.”

“Leave? Not return successfully?” Nuvahl asked, his voice resonating in the small house.

“That would be preferable,” Sol’vi answered. She shrugged. “But beyond my control.”

“Her leaving is beyond your control now. I have never seen a Fire Elemental so strong so young… and so controlled.” Nuvahl’s gaze fell on her. Some of the anger lifted. “She will not be wasted to sate your desire for fame, or money,” he added the last with a pointed look at Rad’aska. “She is not a child sold into slavery but a gift.”

“But I—” Ci’erra stepped forward.

Nuvahl turned to her and placed a hand lightly on her shoulder. “Have a right to go, but not yet. You can come back after a few years in Solaire when you are of proper age.”

“Promise?”

“I swear to you.”

Ci’erra nodded. Rik’ke snorted. “You will come back when you are a fine lady living in a luxury of silks with your long, gilded hair. You will not last a day on your vwahalla.”

“Or if you do, it will be because you cheat and control fire to make your path easier,” Medaska added with a hiss.

The fire behind Ci’erra flared with her anger. Startled by the flames, no one stopped her as she grabbed Dagny’s knife and sliced off her long braid. She tossed her shorn locks at Rik’ke’s feet as golden curls drifted around her face.

“I will never be soft! I am Valain. You will see. I will do something greater than a vwahalla, if I must, to prove it.”

Nuvahl chuckled but it was the grudging smile on Rik’ke’s face that made Ci’erra feel proud. Her aunt had never looked at her that way.

Part 5
A New Home

Ci’erra stood next to Nuvahl as his bags were loaded onto the small ship. She had nothing to take except Seifa, who stood at her feet eyeing the ocean waves and wooden boat with the same nervousness Ci’erra felt. She shifted from foot to foot. Seifa hissed.

Nuvahl glanced from Seifa to Ci’erra with amusement. Final bag in his hand, the bright-eyed look faded from his face. “Do not worry. You will be given clothes, anything you need, in Solaire.”

“I don’t need anything.”

Nuvahl glanced inland toward the scattered stone and earth huts of Valain as if she’d said anyone. No one from the village except for Dagny waited to see them off. Dagny had told her last night that her parents had left to tend their traps already. Rik’ke would never come to her and Medaska… Ci’erra expected nothing from her cousin.

Dagny embraced her brother, each holding the other for a long moment. “Come back sooner this time. I only have so many years left,” Dagny said as she wiped dry her cheeks.

“Write me,” Nuvahl insisted. “If you grow ill or the way here becomes too hard, send word. I will find a place for you to stay in Solaire.”

Dagny waved the offer away. “Life is hard here, but it is our way. Until I teach someone how to heal, I must stay.”

Nuvahl nodded as he squeezed her hand. “You have the medicines I brought. I’ll send more even if I cannot come.” With that, he turned to Ci’erra. “Are you ready, little one.” He held out a hand to her.

Ci’erra walked forward as if she waded through freezing water. Each step took longer than the last and left her colder. In a sudden rush, Ci’erra threw herself into Dagny’s surprised embrace. “Tell my little sister or brother about me. No one else will.”

“Of course, child,” Dagny said, smoothing the short locks she’d helped to trim. Now Ci’erra’s hair fell around her face in a golden halo like Seifa’s red flames. “Go on to your new home.”

Ci’erra walked to Nuvahl with her chin high. She was Valain. She wouldn’t cry even if no one watched to see. Nuvhal scooped her up under her arms and dropped her into the ship. Seifa mewed.

Nuvahl eyed the flaming beast. “Can you control him so that he won’t burn the ship.”

“Yes,” Ci’erra answered, hoping she was right. But he hadn’t asked her to make him leave. Not once since she’d summoned Seifa on the beach had Nuvahl tried to banish the little fire spirit. She liked the Water Elemental for that alone even as Ci’erra vowed no one would ever make her send Seifa away again. “Seifa, come. Don’t burn anything.”

Seifa spun on the damp stones, stopping to look from the water to Ci’erra and then he leapt. With a furious scrabble that left a few dark singe marks on the ship from his claws, Seifa made the gunwale of the ship and leapt into Ci’erra’s arm. Nothing caught fire. Ci’erra smiled and Nuvahl shook his head.

As soon as Nuvahl stepped into the ship, the sea rose around the little boat. Ci’erra steadied herself with a hand on the wooden side as it floated on the wave. Tingling brushed against her skin and in her vision Nuvahl stood in a blue haze nearly the color of his eyes, which had brightened to aquamarine stars. This was his power and despite the fear of being on the sea for the first time, Ci’erra relaxed. Nuvahl would keep her safe.

Two strange days of mild seasickness later, Nuvahl brought Ci’erra on deck. Around them the rolling empty sea that had frightened her was now filled with hundreds of ships bobbing on waves against thick chains. The sun filled the sky, warming her skin that felt too damp and lighting the distant towers so they looked to be built of sunlight.

“This is where you are meant to be,” Nuvahl told her. “You will be on the High Council someday like me, I know it.”

Nuvahl led her from the dock and through the town toward the stone walls of the Temple. Seifa trailed in her footsteps and brought stares that Ci’erra ignored. She would not hide what she could do, not again, even if everything around her felt alien. Buildings three times the height of the stone huts of Valin lined a street that was as smooth as washed beach sand. The houses looked like dozens of square boats placed side by side, all wood with glass windows like the big ship she’d arrived on.

Beyond a high wall, the buildings were replaced by more plants than Ci’erra imagined existed. Trees, real trees towered higher than the houses she’d just passed, but not nearly as high as the clear towers that reflected sunlight and clouds. Craning her neck to see where the lofty tops scraped the sky, Ci’erra only realized Nuvahl greeted someone when her name was mentioned.

“She is very gifted, as you can see.”

Ci’erra blushed as the woman’s eyes dropped to her. She raised an eyebrow at Seifa who leaned against Ci’erra’s legs.

“Take care of her, good care, Timpada.”

“Yes, High Priest.”

Timpada was another Fire Elemental, the first Ci’erra had met. She didn’t have a fire spirit though. “No one does,” Timpada told her, gingerly stroking Seifa’s flaming fur. “I’ve never heard or read of such a thing. Perhaps one day you will tell me how he came to you.” Despite the rarity, no one told her Seifa couldn’t stay. That was all that mattered to Ci’erra.

The days passed in a whirlwind of newness. Nothing in Solaire was done as it had been in Valin. Ci’erra did not have to tend smoldering peat fires to cure fish or meat. She did not have to bend hooks for fishing or gather seaweed on the shore. Instead, she was taught letters by an Earth Elemental along with a few children born in Solaire. No others there were as young as her. No other had come from an outside town so young in a generation.

There was one fire Ci’erra did tend though, at least for one day. She was the youngest there too. The other boy and girl Fire Elementals assigned to heat cauldrons of water for laundry could barely keep their flames burning steady. Water boiled over, dousing fires they could not relight. After an hour of moaning and trial, Ci’erra simply controlled all four fires as she leaned against a tree, her bare legs tickled by the grass.

Timpada tracked her down that afternoon as she practiced writing words in sand. “You were assigned a fire today in the laundry?” Ci’erra nodded without glancing up. She was trying to spell Seifa but the ’S’ looked wrong. “You took over another Fire Elemental’s fire?”

“They were doing it wrong.” Ci’erra frowned, erasing the S and drawing it with the curves opposite of the first. Now it looked right.

“Which student did you help?

“All of them.” Ci’erra finally met Timpada’s eyes. The Fire Priestess looked nervous. Ci’erra swallowed worry. She really wasn’t certain how things worked in the Temple yet. “They couldn’t relight the fires or keep them steady, so I did.”

“But you were half asleep when I saw you!”

“I used to tend the peat fires and keep them from burning too strong even when I was asleep.”

Timpada stared at her with an open mouth. She closed it and started to giggle like a little girl even though she looked only a few years younger than Sol’vi. Ci’erra held still, uncertain what to do.

Timpada shook her head as she chuckled. “You will not go to the regular trainings for Fire Elementals any more.”

“Why?” Ci’erra leapt to her feet, fist balled. She would find Nuvahl and tell him. No one would stop her from learning.
Timpada held out a hand to stall her. “I will teach you. Private lessons. I do not think the regular teachers know what to do with you and I’d hate to find out what you will cause when you grow bored.”

Ci’erra’s lips twitched until they spread slowly in a smile to match Timpada’s. “Really? You’ll teach me?”

“I will teach you so much.”

After that Ci’erra looked forward to every day and worked hard to astound Timpada. The newness of the Temple lessened, but not the surprise of her gifts. For Timpada, she would make flames dance across granite floors. Timpada taught her to summon a perfect ball of light without heat. Once she knew that, Ci’erra would make them for Seifa to chase, controlling the orb so that Seifa ran about the grand rooms and hallways, scaring people as he raced between their legs until she couldn’t stop laughing or Timpada managed to stop giggling long enough to tell her to call Seifa back. Nuvahl visited along others, who he said were on the High Council, to watch Ci’erra. They shared quiet whispers, thanked Timpada for teaching Ci’erra, and left them alone again. Timpada glowed under the praise.

A few days later, Nuvahl visited again. Timpada released the firestorm she’d created as he walked into the room amid mist that felt almost like rain.

“I have news for you, Ci’erra,” he said, kneeling before her. “Word came from Dagny that Medaska’s body was found halfway to the lakes by Liat’son on his return. I’m sorry for the loss of your cousin, child.”

Ci’erra nodded. “I guess she wasn’t as lucky as they thought.” It was the first thing that broke through the emptiness of her mind. “Everyone thought she’d do well since she was born on Rik’ke’s vwahalla.”

Nuvahl nodded solemnly as he squeezed her shoulder. “If you want to send word to your mother and father or aunt, let me know.” He stood and looked at Timpada.

“I’ll let you know… if she needs anything.”

“Perhaps an afternoon off would be wise,” Nuvahl suggested as he left.

“I don’t want to take the afternoon off,” Ci’erra said when they were alone in the thick stone room again. No windows punctured the stout walls and nothing burnable resided inside. Only the light Timpada and she conjured kept darkness at bay.

“She was your cousin,” Timpada said. “It is okay to feel sad.”

“I’m not sad!” Ci’erra’s shout echoed through the room. “You wanted to know how I found Seifa?” Ci’erra paused, shaking so hard that fire wrapped around her, sprouting from the stone floor in waves. Seifa leaned against Ci’erra and purred in warm comfort.

Timpada sat on the floor in front of her, watching the flames and Ci’erra with calm eyes. Ci’erra knew of no other Fire Elemental as gifted as Timpada except herself, though Timpada said there was a young man who had just finished his training that she would have to meet when he returned.

“It has something to do with your cousin?”

Ci’erra nodded once with a jerk of her head on a neck that felt too stiff. “Ky’mera, my twin brother and I were fishing in the river with old hooks we’d taken from Rik’ke’s house. We thought we’d bring home a fish for mother and father so they would take us with them when they left the next day. Medaska found us. She was so angry.”

Ci’erra paused remembering Ky’mera. He’d been with her from the day they had been born wrapped in each other’s arms, so Sol’vi had said. “Medaska pushed me and I fell in the river. I hit my head and everything was dark, but Medaska kept kicking me. Ky’mera pushed her so she fell. He helped me up and then she hit him with a rock. There was blood. He told me to run and not to help.” Tears fell down Ci’erra’s cheeks now. “He said not to stay.”

Timpada reached through the flames and hugged Ci’erra. “I’m sorry, so sorry,” she whispered.

Warmth wrapped around her. Timpada’s and Seifa’s, bringing comfort like Ky’mera had once as they’d shared covers and secrets, always together. He’d promised her always together. “I ran along the river until I couldn’t run anymore. I was so angry and scared that it made me hot. I just wanted my brother.”

“And you called fire.”

“And Seifa came.” Ci’erra sat in front of Timpada, hand held in hers as Seifa curled onto her lap. “Medaska found me. She promised she’d never tell what I could do if I never told what had happened to Ky’mera. She made me say he tripped in the steam and drowned.” Ci’erra looked from Seifa to Timpada. “I’m don’t care that she is dead.”

“I think you are a woman as old as me trapped in the body of a little girl.”

Ci’erra gave Timpada a half smile. “You laugh more than even the babies in Valin. You don’t seem that old.”

Timpada threw back her head and laughed, hugging Ci’erra again. “We are still taking a break this afternoon, at least getting out of this Earth Elemental cave. Why don’t we let Seifa run on the beach and light things on fire.”

Timpada stood and offered Ci’erra her hand. Seifa bounded to the door, trailing flaming footprints in his wake. Ci’erra smiled. “As long as I can burn the clothes I wore from Valia first.”

“That sounds like the perfect place to begin.”