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Chapter 22 - The Bones of Those Who Have Gone Before

Icy rain beat against his flesh. Despite this assault, Cita could still feel the hands, groping and touching. He felt his reflexive, unwanted response and knew what came next. He needed to run. His limbs betrayed him and he fell to his knees, surrounded by icy mud and driving rain. He pressed his hands to his ears as if that could block the screaming.

A hiss and crackle rose around him, and the red that washed his vision manifested physically; flames leapt higher than his head, surrounding and enveloping him.

'Good. Let it end.' Raging fire fought icy rain. Neither won. Instead, they seemed doomed to a stalemate.

*You think you can escape that easily?* An icy shadow stroked his back.

Cita stared at his unblemished hands; the flames were not charring his flesh to ashes. He wept hopelessly.

'How can I fail again?'

*It's because you are a failure. If you'd only stayed with me,* the shadow mocked. It was louder now, clear over the screaming.

Motion drew Cita's eyes upward, and he saw a dark figure past the pyre. The single-wing was tucked tight. The man didn't approach.

'Of course. He can't trust a flame summoner — not one who killed.' Self-loathing swamped Cita while he fought to stay afloat. 'But what does Blue Jay know? Did I really kill somebody?' Cita dredged memories like bones from the mire of his subconscious.

The youth whispered, **Oh, yes. They are well and truly dead and no turning back.** He grinned, teeth glinting red in the firelight.

*I told you. You know why I can't teach you anymore. It's all your fault.*

A warm nose shoved at his back, interrupting the feud.

Cita sprawled forward into the mud. He rolled and saw a black and flaming stallion, prancing mischievously. Lithe and nimble, he reared, came down, and raced in a tight circle around Cita.

The shadow seethed and drew back.

Cita lay in the muck's embrace. His tears mixed with the rain. 'How could I forget? I cursed Nocturne, too. He's doomed to some sort of partial existence at my beck and call.'

*That's right. Your wretchedness deserves no companion.* The shadow wrapped close again. *Banish it.*

Nocturne pranced through the shadow, driving it back again.

The stallion stopped, stuck his nose into Cita's face, and snorted. The incorporeal breath smelled of summer sun and grass.

'How can that be? Shouldn't a flame wraith smell burnt?'

Before he could puzzle this out, a wing arched over his face, blocking the rain. Nocturne danced back, still playful.

"Bilal? How did you …? The fire ..." Cita looked from the stern face to the encircling flames.

A path as wide as the warrior remained open.

"You would not turn your flames on me."

The soft voice was filled with confidence that broke Cita. His breath sobbed and tears flowed harder.

*Don't listen! You will destroy everything you touch, just as you did before!* The shadow slipped into the opening.

**Talk to him,** a tiny, weak voice encouraged. **Please …**

Cita whimpered and sucked in a half breath.

"I don't want to be here!" he confessed in a broken voice. "I just … I'm tired, and ..." Cita trailed off and pulled a forearm over his eyes to block out the compassion Bilal offered.

"Then, for today, it is time to rest," Bilal offered. "And tomorrow, we start fresh."

*There is no tomorrow for you — you don't deserve one!*

The shadow swirled around Cita while his breath fogged in the frigid air. The vortex dragged at him, pulling him farther into the abyss. Nocturne reared, lashing out. But he could not breach the gyre.

"That's not … and what about … the swarm, and the fire ...?" Cita leapt to his feet, waving his arms. Hands clenched in fists, he took a step forward. His left ankle failed him again and crumpled. Cita's arms windmilled as he flailed, seeking balance. He failed, toppling backward. Mud squelched around his ears.

Cita's eyes squeezed shut before he reluctantly opened them and met the watchful golden eyes above him.

"They will keep, or they will not," Bilal shrugged. "We cannot do anything if we rush ahead beyond our strength, save join the bones of those who have gone before." His extending hand cut through the shadow as if it didn't exist.

*NO!* The spiral broke apart.

Golden eyes chased the last chill from the air. "I am not ready for that yet."

Cita pulled his arm off his eyes and looked at the strong, scarred warrior.

"I do not think you are ready for that either," Bilal offered, hand still extended. "Jas povtorno nema da uspeam. Vie nema da uspeete nitu."

'I will not fail again. You will not fail either. '

The faithful translation echoed like always, kindling a tiny seed of faith in Cita's gut.

"Not today," Cita finally responded, sticking his muddy hand up and accepting Bilal's assistance. "But you're going to have to tell me why you keep saying that."

The shadow dissipated in wisps. As it faded, it whispered, *You're mine! You will always be mine!*

Bilal smiled wryly.

"A mystery for another day."

Cita stood, surrounded by flame and dripping globules of mud. Though the rain beat down unmercifully, he felt like the clouds had cleared.

Nocturne pranced up, begging for attention. Cita scratched his ears.

"Bilal, last time … when I first summoned Nocturne, I couldn't touch him. Now …"

"You're getting stronger," a cheerful voice called from outside the pyre.

Cita looked down the path and saw all three of their hosts and Rashida standing in the rain.

Unhcegila's eyebrows arched, and her head cocked as she observed Cita with a strange smile.

Cetan and Blue Jay were rumpled and sported matching bruises that bid fair to become stunning black eyes.

Bilal stepped between Cita and the observers, flaring his wing again.

"What?" Cita craned to see around Bilal. "Were you guys fighting?"

The brothers exchanged sheepish looks, and the females turned matching glares on them.

"Um. I owe you an apology. Mea culpa." Blue Jay studied the mud rather than meeting Cita's shocked gaze. "Even if what I said was true, it could have been said better."

Unhcegila cleared her throat, and he glared back at her. "I'm … working on that. Being … less blunt, that is."

"Yeah, he is," Cetan chimed in. "And we keep reminding him when he forgets. But hey - look at you! Fire resistance isn't a common trait!"

The teen's cheerful grin was contagious, and Cita couldn't help but smile back.

"Anyway," Unhcegila said. She pushed forward, meeting Cita's eyes with a smile. "I think it's time to introduce you to the bathhouse and a new set of clothes." She blushed.

Cita's brow creased.

**We'll call you the streak, eh?** The voice was so faint Cita scarcely heard them over the rain. He searched the flaming circle, but couldn't see the youth.

"Erm. Even if a flame sorcerer develops flame resistance, their clothes usually aren't so … talented," Cetan explained. He finger-combed his hair and refused to meet Cita's eyes.

Blue Jay snickered, but his sympathetic gaze met Cita's.

Cita looked down. He was covered in mud and ash, but the pouring rain was washing even that cover away. He paled and ducked behind Bilal again.

"Hey, it happens," Cetan continued. "Go ahead and banish your fire wraith and flames. The ladies can … ahem … be excused," he snickered.

Unhcegila scowled at him.

Rashida turned away with a huff.

"We'll head off to the bathhouse," he blithely continued. "Then I can tell you about the time our cousin was supposed to have been milking the goats, and Grauntie found her naked as the day she was born next to a flaming bucket."

"You will NOT tell them that story, or I'll tell them about the time …"