Sember (Forestfolk, Book 2)

Chapter 13

I pounded on the door with a fierceness born of desperation. Goben's strength seemed to have dissipated. He stood next to me, slumped underneath the cloaks, shivering and miserable. I pounded on the door again. If no one was home, I would use the last of my strength to blow it open if I had to. We needed shelter badly.

My arm was raised in the air, ready to hammer on the door again when it finally creaked open. A young man stood there, frowning at the intrusion. He seemed unperturbed by the icy gale blowing into his house. His face was backlit by the glow of torchlight behind him, making it difficult to clearly make out his features.

"Please," I said, hating the despair in my voice. "We seek shelter."

The blizzard howled behind us as the young man stared. He looked first at my snow-encrusted hair, then he took in the rest of me. His eyes shifted to my bundled-up brother, shuddering in the wind.

"Where is your cloak?" His frown deepened as he looked back at me.

Anger sparked. Two obviously freezing visitors showed up at his doorstep, anxiously hoping for refuge from a tempest, and this was the question he asked?

"He has it," I answered, jerking my head in Goben's direction.

The frown deepened into a scowl, and he turned on Goben. "What kind of man are you, taking a woman's cloak during a storm?"

Goben stumbled half a step backward, surprised at the sudden hostility.

"Leave him alone!" I stepped between them. "He has it because I gave it to him."

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Do not cover for him."

My spine stiffened and I lifted my chin. We were freezing our butts off out here, and he had the gall to debate chivalry.

"I'm not covering for anyone! Look." I snatched his hand in both of mine, which I knew were still warm. Barely. His hand was cold, so I upped the heat to make sure he could feel it. The last dregs of my energy tottered away from me, but I had to convince this caveman that Goben wasn't mistreating me.

His eyes widened, and he stared at our hands in wonder. Then he raised his other hand slowly to my face. My first instinct was to turn my head and back away, but something told me he just wanted to see if I was warm there too, so I stayed still and concentrated on mustering some angry energy to my head.

He cupped my face.

It was an oddly intimate gesture that made my stomach flutter.

"You are warm all over," he murmured.

"I'm Gifted," I said, acutely aware of his hand still on my face.

He suddenly seemed to realize this too, and snatched it away. His other hand slipped out of mine. "Please, come in."

We made a feeble effort to stomp some of the snow off before entering. As soon as the door closed, it felt instantly warmer. Relief displaced my anger, and the ever-present heat of my internal fire began fizzling.

I no longer commanded warmth.

A cold tremor ran through my very core, and I gritted my teeth against the unfamiliar feeling. The resolve I'd been tapping into also skittered away, now that we'd finally reached this place. With nothing left to sustain me, I felt myself fading.

Goben blew on his icy hands and rubbed them together, which made the young man realize that he had no fire. He rushed to the hearth to light it. I found it odd that it wasn't already lit. Didn't he feel how cold it was?

I swayed on my feet and immediately searched the room for something to sit on. I was not about to pass out in some stranger's house. I repeated the phrase in my head again. I am fiery and strong. I am made of heat. Only right now, I wasn't. I had no heat left. I was utterly empty. Waves of nausea threatened to flatten me, and I gasped for air.

A spark of fire leapt in the corner of my eye, and my head snapped toward it. Its magnetic pull was so strong that I wasn't even sure if I walked, ran, or floated to it. The only thing that mattered was sitting on the ledge of the hearth, right in front of the fire. I couldn't tear my eyes away. It was all I could do not to dive into the flame and snatch it away, to absorb its energy into my own depleted reserves. But then the fire would be gone.

Instead, I lay down on my side—still facing the fire—and curled into a ball.

I felt Goben crouching next to me. "Sember, what's wrong?"

I could hear the worry in his voice, and I forced my tongue to move. "I'm drained," I mumbled. "Need rest." Then I felt myself start to shiver.

"Is she all right?" said the other man.

"I don't know," Goben replied. "I've never seen her like this. She's never run out of energy." He reached around me and grasped my hand, which was no longer warm. "Oh, Squirrel," he whispered. "You saved us both. Please pull through."

Someone laid a blanket on top of me and tucked in the edges. I had a flashback of being tucked into bed as a small child. Then my consciousness began slipping away.

"Is there anything we can do?" The man's voice sounded far away.

"Three things power her gift: sleep, food, and strong emotions," I heard Goben say. I wanted to tell him to be quiet, to stop talking about me and my secrets. Especially to complete strangers. But I was too far gone, so he continued. "We've had very little of the first two. These past few days have been tough. She got us here through sheer force of will. I would be dead without her."

I wanted to hear more of this conversation, but I was just too exhausted. Too drained. I gave the fire one last, longing glimpse, then I tumbled headfirst into the deepest slumber of my life.

Oh man, I feel so tired now. Let's vote before we take a nap...