Shadows of Fate

Chapter 9

The body made of swirling crimson and silver fire hovered in the air before us. The brush below him shriveled into scorched ringlets. Awe and terror wrestled in my mind, and I flashed back to the dream of Icarus's burning face.

It was time to commit myself to an insane asylum, because this was not freaking happening. Sure, talking to my brother in my dreams and hoping Icarus was some miracle isn't all that sane, but this took things to a new level of crazy. Except, there was no doubt in my mind that this was real.

Icarus positioned himself to shield me. "Run," he barked over his shoulder.

I edged sideways. My house wasn't far, but I'd have to scramble around the burning man and hope he wouldn't chase me. I could sprint home. Then what, get the hose?

The flames burst brighter for a moment, and that hum drilled into my mind. The ground shuddered again, and I sank to my knees, cradling my head.

With a loud creak, a weak branch broke and fell from the tree to my right. I leapt back toward Icarus, and he inched to block me again from the man, standing in the crosshairs.

"Stay back," Icarus shouted.

Either the man of fire grumbled or another earthquake trembled through the forest. The flames died down into a smolder. Then, like lava hardening, his body solidified until, before us, stood a flesh and—I can only assume—blood man.

The man's skin was scorched a deep tan and his charcoal-colored hair was cropped short. He looked like a young warrior out of some alternate reality, decked out in dulled bronze armor with blood-red accents.

Coal black eyes narrowed into slits, fixing on Icarus. "Why do you not answer?" the man asked. His voice was strong and deep like the earlier humming, but it no longer caused the world around him to shudder.

"Who are you?" I asked.

A piercing gaze shifted past Icarus to me. He had the body of a man in his twenties and a face with sharp edges that was beautiful and fierce. His gaze burrowed into me, filling my veins with ice. I froze as if made of stone. No kindness hid in his eyes, and I felt as if I was nothing more than a gnat to him. Like I didn't deserve to breathe in this man's presence, let alone speak to him. A swirl of emotions resulted from one solid glare.

"Is that the child?" the man sneered. "You were not approved to make contact."

Icarus's hands clenched, ready for a fight. "Who are you?" he echoed my question.

The vicious stare broke, and the man looked back to Icarus.

"Who am I?" He eyed Icarus for a moment, then strode forward, reaching a hand toward Icarus's temple. Red flames curled around his fingertips.

Icarus jerked backwards, bumping into me. I stumbled back and caught his waist to steady myself.

"Brother, it is I. Ares," the man said.

My hands trembled, and I tightened my grip on Icarus. It had to be a coincidence. He couldn't be...

"Brother?" Icarus's stance faltered for a moment. He shook his head. "No. You're mistaken. I don't know you."

"Do not jest with me," Ares snapped, but when Icarus only edged farther back and protectively pulled me closer, Ares' harsh stare faltered. The scowl on his lips softened for a moment, but then he righted himself, squaring his shoulders.

"I was right. It is this place," he looked around as if surrounded by filth. "It has poisoned your mind. I didn't expect it to happen so fast."

Icarus slid a hand back to press on my shoulder, steering me to follow his lead. We stepped to the right as Ares scowled at the forest.