Thief Eyes

Chapter 17

Somehow I unclenched my hand, and the knife clattered to the floor. I drew my hands into fists, right around the coin. My fingers sought my palms. I had only to break skin, and the fire would leave me, and I would be free.

I shut my eyes. I saw a vision of my blood hitting the earth, turning to flame as it landed. I saw earth splitting open around the flames, and a huge fiery hand reaching for the sky.

My skin was burning away from within. The burning hurt—but I forced my fists open, dropping the coin. I could handle pain. I’d hold this fire for as long as I could. I opened my eyes. Flames still danced before me. My hands went right through them, as if they were ghosts.

“Shall I let you know,” Hallgerd said, her voice high and taunting, “the moment my blade breaks his skin?”

“Please,” I begged Hallgerd, because I knew there was no reasoning with the fire inside me.

Hallgerd’s laughter in my head was a wild thing. “Would you bargain with me? What compensation can you possibly offer for Gunnar’s life?”

“You have my mother’s life.” My voice grew wild as hers. “Isn’t that enough?”

“There’s no such thing as enough, not anymore. He flinches quite nicely, Haley. Even so, he says you should not listen to me. Foolish boy. Do you think whether Haley listens or not matters to me anymore?”

I clutched the broken roof with my free hand, but drew away when it began smoldering again. In the distance below, from the smaller outbuildings that surrounded this one, people—servants?—began making their way nervously outside. Closer by, Gunnar’s killers were indeed silently digging holes for their dead, while an old woman shouted at them, cussing up a blue streak.

“She refused him her hair,” one of the gravediggers said. He laughed. “Did you hear? She is a bad woman, that one.”

As if they hadn’t wanted him dead. As if they hadn’t struck the blows that killed him. I moved closer to the edge. I swayed, dizzy a moment, ghost flames all around me.

“Jump,” the fire in me roared. “Jump.”

“Yes,” Hallgerd agreed. “Why not jump? What’s left for you to lose?”

“Only this island,” I whispered. “Only the world.”

“What good has the world ever done either of us?”

No. You didn’t destroy the whole world because your own life was messed up. I stepped away from the edge, though it would have been easy—too easy—to set the fire loose.

Down below, a young woman rode up on horseback, taking in the men and the old woman with a glance. The old woman cursed at her, too. The young woman ignored her, dismounted, dropped the horse’s reins, and ran for the house. I heard her footsteps on the ladder below. “Mama?” she called, her voice tight with concern.

I turned slowly around. She climbed up into the loft, her wool riding cloak wrapped tight around her. A few blond strands fell loose from beneath her hood. She was younger than Hallgerd, older than me, with a stubborn set to her chin. My throat tightened as I realized who she must be. Thorgerd. Hallgerd’s daughter.

In my head, Hallgerd caught her breath. “I told her to stay home. I told her to stay safe.”

Thorgerd’s gray eyes swept over the loft to where Gunnar lay. Her father?—no, she’d called herself someone else’s daughter in the spellbook. Even so, she let out a little sigh. “It is over, then.” She walked over to Gunnar, knelt beside him, and gently shut his eyes. When she stood there was blood on her skirt. “I’m sorry, Mama.” She held out her hands to me. Strong hands—unlike mine, they didn’t shake.

She’s lost her mother, too. She just doesn’t know it yet. I took her hands—though mine were still stained with Gunnar’s blood—not knowing what else to do. Her skin felt cool against mine.

“So warm,” Thorgerd muttered. “You’re always warm, Mama, but today—” She drew me into a fierce hug. As I awkwardly hugged her back, I felt something leap from me to her, like a small electric shock. A trickle of the fire beneath my skin left me.

I drew sharply away. The phantom flames faded to bright afterimages, as if I’d looked too long into the sun. The roaring in my ears subsided to a whisper.

“If you dare to hurt her—” Hallgerd left the thought unfinished.

“Of course I wouldn’t hurt her!” I wouldn’t let the fire in me touch Thorgerd or anyone else if I could help it.

“Whom do you speak to? Your eyes—they are not my mother’s eyes.” Thorgerd’s gaze narrowed. “What thievery is this? Who are you?”

I looked down, unwilling to meet that gaze. I’d stolen her mother, even if I hadn’t meant to, just like Hallgerd had stolen mine. Not that losing Hallgerd was all that great a loss.

“Haley!” There was pain in Hallgerd’s voice. “I have never harmed my daughter. What do you take me for?”

“You killed my mother,” I said.

“It was not my—” Hallgerd’s voice fell silent.

Thorgerd pressed her lips together. “Sorcery.” She reached beneath her cloak for something—a knife?—then thought better of it. Her face hardened. “I know well enough my mother meddled with forces beyond this world. She did what she could to shelter me from them, but true dreams run in our family. She could only hide so much.”

Heat was building in me again, flames flickering at the edges of my sight. Sweat trickled beneath my dress. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorrow serves no one. Tell me what we need to do to call her back.”

I glanced at Gunnar’s lifeless body. “I don’t think she wants to come back.”

In my head, I could feel Hallgerd’s listening silence.

Thorgerd made a dismissive sound. “My mother is many things, but a coward is not one of them.”

“Haley. Give me the coin.” Hallgerd’s words were careful, measured. “I would leave you to your fate—do not doubt it—but I’ll not abandon my daughter. Return my life to me, and I’ll return yours to you. Let that serve as compensation enough for the lives we’ve both taken.”

I’d had no choice. I didn’t owe her any compensation—maybe that didn’t matter. Maybe she’d thought she had no choice, too. The air before me wavered. The roaring grew loud again, so loud. What would happen once the fire burst through my skin?

Even in my own time, that fire might destroy me yet. I could stay here. I could make Hallgerd’s daughter suffer as I’d suffered, knowing her mother was stolen from her—no. I couldn’t. Just like I couldn’t leave Ari and Jared—and Dad—to wonder forever what had happened to me.

“You’re right,” I told Thorgerd, though I could barely hear my own voice over the roaring. “Your mother is no coward.” I fumbled for the coin I’d dropped.

“Wait.” Thorgerd took my hands again. I felt more fire flowing from me to her. When she pulled her hands away, the heat beneath my skin had cooled a little more. At my startled look, Thorgerd smiled. “I know more of sorcery than my mother thinks. I would have taken some of the fire from her years ago, if only she’d let me. I am sorry I cannot take more.” She laid her hand on my shoulder. “Go now. Return to your own place, and give my mother back to me.”

“Thank you.” I picked up the coin. To Hallgerd I said, “Swear to me you won’t set your fire loose once I’m gone, not if you can help it.”

Hallgerd laughed bitterly. “You control the spell. The fire follows you, not me. I give up much because of you, Haley.”

Too much fire—but better that fire stay with me than remain behind with Hallgerd. I would at least try to control it, and I still wasn’t sure Hallgerd would. I drew my hand back to throw the coin.

The air blurred before me, and I saw the path once more. Far away, at the end of that path, I saw a girl— myself, only my eyes were gray, not brown—kneeling before the bowl of Freki’s blood and chanting.