Antony John - Firebrand

Father’s lips were pulled back, teeth chattering from the exertion. His whole body began to shake, slowly at first and then faster, so that he convulsed uncontrollably.

Ananias struck the lock with the side of his hand. The flame disappeared but the lock didn’t break completely. So he struck it again, even harder, screaming from the intensity of it all.

The lock cracked and dropped to the floor, where it sizzled against the wooden planks. Eleanor fell back against the wall to avoid getting burned. Ananias collapsed, gasping for breath. And my father stopped shaking.

I slid inside the room and yanked the cage top upward. I wrapped an arm around my father and tried to drag him over the side of the cage, but he was too heavy.

“Take his legs.” Alice stood beside me, legs spread wide to avoid treading on her sister. “I’ll help you.”

His tunic and pants were stiff from dried urine. I gagged on the stench.

“Now,” she said.

We heaved him onto the edge of the cage, but couldn’t stop him from slipping over and onto the floor. He didn’t make a sound, not even when we pulled him into the corridor by his armpits.

“He must be unconscious,” said Alice.

I placed my fingers against his neck and checked for a pulse. His heartbeat was slow. Faint too, and growing weaker every moment.

“What’s happening, Thom?”

Ananias and Eleanor still hadn’t moved. Using their elements had left them completely exhausted. “He combined his element with them,” I said. “But I don’t think he had the energy—”

I broke off as my father’s pulse stopped. I kept my fingers in place, waiting for the heartbeat to return. But it didn’t.

The world seemed to close in around me. Father’s face and body were relaxed, as if he was welcoming death. I couldn’t let that happen.

The thin thread of an element began to pass between us then. My hands were shaking, but I was conscious of channeling the flow, pouring every fiber of my being into him and emptying my mind of every thought but one: Make him live.

There were voices around me, but they couldn’t break through the bubble I’d created. One after another my senses shut down as I focused more, pushed harder. Whatever was left of my element was his now.

The voices around me were shouting. I recognized the tone but not the words. It wasn’t just one voice either, but several. I drew strength from that too.

My eyes were open but I was blind. I didn’t even bother to breathe anymore.

I was at peace.

And then I wasn’t.

»«

“You’re lucky to be alive.”

I tried to raise my head. Gave up. Tilted it instead.

Rose knelt beside me. There was a candle on the floor, which meant that it was night. “How long have I been asleep?” My voice sounded strange—not really mine.

“Not long enough.” She dipped a piece of cloth into a bowl, wrung it out, and draped it across my forehead. “How do you feel?”

“Terrible. What happened?”

“Alice kicked you in the head. And the arms. Body too.” I must have looked puzzled, because she continued, “She saved your life, Thomas. You brought your father back, but you wouldn’t stop. Everyone was shouting at you, but it was like you couldn’t hear us. So she made you stop.”

I closed my eyes to shut out the pain. “I can feel that, yes.”

My senses had returned with a vengeance now. I felt the humidity of the night, the smell of salt water on the cloth. What I couldn’t see was my father. “Where is he?”

“He’s in the next cabin. Griffin cleaned his wounds. Ananias found new clothes for him.” Rose reached for the wooden bangle she always wore and twisted it around her wrist nervously. “Your father’s alive, but he’s really weak.”

“And what about you? How are you doing?”

She let go of the bangle and touched the pendant I’d given her instead. She lifted it up and admired it in the candlelight. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel right now. My mother seems lost. Dennis is crushed. The only thing that kept him going was rescuing my parents—”

“That’s what kept us all going.”

She let the pendant fall. “No, it wasn’t. Not just that. I did what it took to keep us together too, Thomas.” She removed the cloth from my forehead and dipped it in water again. “I loved my father. Trusted him, even when I thought he was wrong. But he lied to us—all of us. And at the end, when he was dying . . .” She raised the cloth and watched it drip into the bowl. “He spent his last breath making me promise I’d stay away from you.”

I swallowed hard. “Why?”

“Because he was frightened of you and your family. Even though you couldn’t have known about Dare being your uncle, he still wanted to punish you. And me.”

I couldn’t look at her anymore. The name Dare made me sick. “Who told you about that?”

“My father. So did Alice and Griffin. There’s no use keeping secrets anymore, Thomas. There aren’t enough of us left to take sides.”

Rose squeezed the cloth and ran it across my forehead, past my left temple and over my cheek to my lips. The thin material was all that separated her fingers from my skin.

We moved at the same time, sleeves brushing lightly, then hands touching. I tried to rein in my energy, but it wasn’t necessary. The hint of a smile on her lips told me she was just fine. Either my element was weakening like everyone else’s, or I was too exhausted to pass any energy at all.

Our fingers intertwined, skin gliding over skin, like a warm breeze. Rose dropped the cloth and ran her free hand up my arm, kept moving until it rested on my shoulder. A finger glanced my chin, then another touched my cheek. I closed my eyes and tilted my head toward it. Here was hope. Here was proof that life would be better without an element.

Rose uncurled her legs. “You should rest.” She picked up the bowl and the candle, and stood.

“Wait,” I called out. “What made you break the promise to your father?”

She rested her head against the door. The braid had come undone now, and her hair hung lank across her face. She looked tired, but still beautiful. “I didn’t promise him anything.”

I couldn’t hide my surprise. “What?”

“He was dying, and of all the things he could’ve said . . .” She bit her lip. “No. Of all the things he should’ve said, he made Dennis and me promise to stay away from you.” She fixed me with her hazel eyes. “I keep thinking that if he’d lived a moment longer, he’d have told us he loved us too. But I guess we’ll never know. Maybe it doesn’t matter. He cared more about hurting you and your family than reassuring his own.” Her eyes were full of tears now, but she didn’t blink and they didn’t fall. “And so I said nothing.”

I slept poorly again, plagued by nightmares of pirates and dead Guardians. A few times I woke up hungry. Once, Griffin was beside me. The next time, it was Ananias. I needed to take a turn at the wheel too, but I was so tired. So empty .

I woke with a start. The first light of morning filtered through the porthole. Ananias lay on his back beside me, hands raised, sparks spitting from his fingertips. Sometimes there were tiny flames too, but they flickered, like fire starved of oxygen. “There’s a cup beside you,” he said. “Your daily ration.”

“Daily?”

“Well, Alice might give you extra. Because you skipped yesterday’s meal, I mean.”

I almost laughed at that. It seemed funny somehow, which I guessed meant I felt better. But Ananias didn’t smile at all. He just stared at his hands, transfixed.

The cup was half-full of almost-rotten fruit and stale grains. The water canister beside it was full, though.