Siena (Forestfolk, Book 1)

Chapter 12a

After breakfast the next morning, I followed the now familiar trail to Davin's tiny worktable. I wanted to apologize for making him sad. When I reached it, he wasn't there.

I sat on the stump in front of the worktable and leaned over, propping my head onto my hands. Did I cause him so much grief that he wouldn't come out today? With a sigh I looked around and picked up one of the leather strips he had been cutting.

"Looking to learn a trade, are you?" said a familiar voice.

I looked up and saw Davin ambling down the trail from the opposite direction, the fronds of his new hat swaying around his head. "You're here!" I popped up from the seat.

"Why wouldn't I be here?" he asked as he took his place in front of the worktable.

"I thought maybe . . ." I shifted from one foot to the other. "Never mind. I wanted to apologize, for yesterday."

"Don't be daft, nothing to apologize for. It was a shock to learn news of Nily is all." His gruff voice held no hint of emotional turmoil.

I didn't know what to say to that, so I sat down and twirled the leather strip around my fingers.

Davin pulled a swath of hide out and began to cut shapes. We chatted while he worked, and when he stood up to arch his back, we parted ways.

At Zelly's garden, I joined her in raking weeds and grass out from the edges of the plot. She talked about her Iceling home and how I would have liked it there. She was in the middle of describing a sweet snowy treat when we heard the scream pierce the forest.

We both dropped our rakes and ran toward the sound. As we got closer to the source, we heard shouts and more screams. Then we smelled the smoke.

It was a cabin, completely engulfed. Huge flames danced on all four walls, and I stared at them, entranced. I'd never seen so much fire before, not even on the night of the attack when I escaped.

I heard a plea from the entrance of the cabin and saw Goben there, tugging on the arms of an unconscious man. "Please, Papa, wake up! We have to get out! Papa!" He kept yanking on his father's arms with as much strength as his eight-year-old body could muster. Inch by inch, it was a snail's pace. Flames danced around the doorway, dangerously close to the prone body. A little girl sat not far from him, crying.

A surge of adrenaline coursed through me, and I bolted in their direction, only to be held back by someone. I twisted around to find Zelly gripping my arms.

"No!" she said. "You'll be burned alive! Goben is fireproof, but you're not!"

I frantically searched around me and saw a bucket half full of water. Pushing Zelly aside, I dumped the bucket over my head and sprinted to help Goben. Together, we dragged the body out a safe distance away from the blaze.

Goben rushed back to the doorway, yelling, "Mama's still inside!"

Without thinking, I ran in after him. I was hit by heat so intense it nearly stunned me. The air was thick with smoke and I could scarcely breathe. I focused on Goben—who seemed unbothered by the flames at all—and I stumbled my way toward his mother's body, who was sprawled next to a table.

My skin started to burn in the unbearable heat. The smoke blinded me. We grabbed each of her singed hands and pulled her as quickly as we could. I choked on heat and smoke. White-hot pain scorched my back, my arms. A piece of burning debris fell and narrowly missed me.

When we finally broke out of the firestorm, the outside air cooled me, even though it was a warm afternoon. We didn't stop until we reached the first body. After laying her alongside it, I dissolved into a coughing fit, gulping for air and trying to get the taste of smoke out of my mouth. Someone led me away, and I flinched when they touched my burned shoulder. I sank to the ground, continuing to gasp for air and coughing black soot out of my lungs.

When my breathing finally settled, I looked in horror as the flames from the cabin caught onto nearby trees. People with buckets tried to douse the fire with water, but the lake was too far, and the buckets too few. It was futile, like trying to put out a bonfire with spit.

"Take it back! Sember, you have to take it back!" Goben shook the little girl, who couldn't have been older than six, trying to snap her out of her crying fit. "You can do it! I've seen you!"

The girl tore her tear-filled eyes away from her immobile parents and stared at Goben.

"Sember, it's okay. Just focus. You know how to make fire, just do it backwards."

She rubbed her eyes with her fists.

"Sember!" Goben was shouting again, desperate. "Foresthome is going to burn to the ground if you don't help. You have to do this!"

Oh my, she has to! I'm sorry to split the chapter here. A quick vote before you continue? Thank you!!