“What if we throw water on it?” Arun asked as he came up behind me.
“Water goes solid when I do this, see? At least at first. Whatever this is doesn’t hold them for long.” I picked up a handful of pebble-like objects from the sink by the door. “These were water drops.” As I held them, they started to melt.
“Water is strong,” Arun murmured. “Maybe your hold on it is only temporary.”
Fear bled into my veins as I returned my gaze to the statue-like flames above us. “Fire is just as strong.”
“Hold on—I have an idea.” Arun picked up the television and threw it at the wall of fire in front of the door. It sailed through—shattering the fire into pieces. Before they hit the ground, I noticed some had started to move. The snow put them out.
“We have to hurry.”
Arun picked up the chair and used the legs to swipe away the rest of the fire in the doorway. He gestured at me to run through as he grabbed the handle on the flatbed. He rolled it outside behind me.
“Look at this,” I hissed, pointing at the bits of fire we’d sent to the ground. They were still trying to spark to life, but the snow was putting them out fast. “We should try and get more plants out.”
Arun shook his head, then waved his hand around. “It’s too widespread. We can’t risk going inside them.”
My stomach dropped to my feet as I took in how many greenhouses had caught fire. I counted six that had already been engulfed, and sparks were arcing in the air over several more. “Gods. I’m so sorry.”
The sadness, the complete devastation in his expression ripped through me, and I put my hand on his arm, squeezed. Then my fingers started to tingle. I panicked a second before I realized I’d put my notebook with attached pen in the back pocket of my jeans when I’d climbed back in my Jeep after the truck stop. I pulled the paper out and held still as my hand went stiff. The message must have been important because as my pen drew the runes, my norn kept pressing harder and harder until the pen actually went through paper a couple of times.
“She’s agitated,” I said under my breath. “This message is really important, I think.”
Arun watched over my shoulder, then read the runes aloud when I was done.
“Dark blood without rival.”
“I have no idea what that means. First she says music on the lake, then dark blood without rival.” I chewed on my lip, staring at the runes, wishing I knew as much as Coral did about our mythology. I was so gonna start studying more. That is, if I got through this. The fire had me concerned—I could admit it.
“I think it means dark creatures. They’re supposed to fight in the battles, right?” Arun looked around as if he expected to see them coming at us through the fire. “I’ve read ancient texts that referred to underworld creatures as dark blood.”
“‘Without rival’ is the part that’s making the hair stand up on the back of my neck.”
“Me, too,” he murmured. “I think it’s a warning. The dark’s rival would be us—the kids carrying the gods’ souls. If we’re not there to fight...” He trailed off.
“Then someone is going to try and take us out.” This time I looked at the frozen flames and noticed that some had started to writhe despite the rune tempus. It was the creepiest thing I’d ever seen—those slow-moving tentacles of fire that fought so hard for freedom. “I know the plastic is flammable, but didn’t this fire seem to spread too fast and hard? And how with all the snow still falling?”
“Magic. Which means it was deliberately set.” Arun sucked in a breath. “There were a bunch of kids in the barn!” He bolted.
I followed, his panic bleeding back into me so hard it stole my breath.
“If someone set this fire to kill us, it would have started in the old barn we turned into a main warehouse and place for everyone to sleep. It’s where a lot of the kids hang out.”
As we turned the corner on the last greenhouse, Arun skidded to a stop and I ran into him. I had to grab his coat to keep from falling on the icy path. Several kids stood there, and all but one turned to look at us.
“Watch out,” Kara warned. “We were hosing everything down and when this happened, it all froze to sheets of ice on the ground.”
Arun made a sound that stabbed into my heart, and I followed his gaze to the cabin. Stiff flames spilled from the entire building—the walls, windows and roof. Only one flame off the porch had started that slow dance. Arun jumped into a sprint toward the cabin. Tyrone, Kara, me and the other girl with red hair followed Arun.
“Wait,” I yelled at his back. “I don’t know how long this is going to last. You could run in there and then the fire could start back up.”
“His mother is in there,” Tyrone said as he ran alongside me before he sped up and ran side by side with Arun. I picked up the pace, as well.
Arun slammed into the front door, splintering it into pieces. “Mom!” he yelled as he disappeared inside.
“Please,” I breathed softly to my norn. “Please keep it like this a little longer.”
I actually felt her surprise but didn’t have time to ask again as the rest of us hit the door. I didn’t hesitate, running inside with Kara right behind me. Flames had engulfed everything in their living room, reducing what looked like a red couch and hand-carved furniture to piles. The smoke was thick in here—not as thick as the stuff coming off that plastic covering the greenhouses—but it still felt like inhaling rocks as we pushed through into the kitchen.
The heat was like nothing I’d ever felt—as if I’d stepped inside a crematory oven—and the blast of it burned the exposed skin of my face.
Arun was carefully trying to lift his mother, a slim blonde who wasn’t much bigger than me.
“I can’t tell if she’s alive,” he said, his dark eyes glittering with tears that could have come from smoke or worry. “And I’m afraid to bend her like this.”
“Here, I’ll take her feet and you hold her shoulders.” Tyrone helped Arun lift his mother. “Kara, can you get the back door?”
She’d already anticipated the question and had the back door open fast.
I looked around, not sure what I should try to save. I turned to go back toward the hallway I’d spotted to at least grab clothes for them, but dizziness swamped me.
The girl who carried Gullveig’s soul suddenly reached out and hauled me right off my feet before tossing me over her shoulder in a fireman’s carry.
“Hey!” I yelled.
“No time left,” she shouted as the world jumped into the rune tempus spin.
I screamed as she bent and all the blood rushed to my head. She swiped a blanket off the floor and I had no idea how she was moving with everything spinning as it was. But she threw the blanket over me and ran. Then she screamed as she jumped through a window. I could see nothing, could only feel us sailing through the air and over the front porch. She landed with a grunt and a cry, dropping me.
“How did you even know that was...What if the window hadn’t been that dir...you’re crazy! The world was spinning!” I scrambled out of the blanket and realized the lunatic who’d picked me up had caught fire. This time, I jumped her. I had the blanket wrapped around her before anyone else could reach us. Then I rolled us together in the snow until she started struggling.
“I’m okay,” she yelled, her voice muffled by the blanket. “You can stop beating me now.”