Chapter 9: Fire Is Fire

Seraya watched the women’s faces turned toward the cave entrance, then looked back down at Niva kneeling before her.

The girl still held the leaf with the raw meat, but her eyes kept straying toward the drifting smell of roast meat. She swallowed so often that Seraya began to feel hungry on her behalf.

"Sister, I'm asking seriously," she said, leaning down. "Do you want to eat roasted meat?"

Niva nodded at once, but a moment later her rabbit ears drooped.

"I do... But we aren't allowed to use the Holy Fire. Only the shaman, the chieftain, and the elders can do that. If any of us breaks the ban, she can be cast out from the tribe."

She looked at Seraya with worry, then added in an even quieter voice:

"Besides, none of us knows how to summon it."

Seraya turned the words over in her mind for a second. Then she glanced toward the entrance, where a cool draft of evening air filtered in, and pointed to a bare patch of stone floor.

"Here's what we'll do. You bring some dry wood, small twigs, and dry leaves. I'll take care of the fire."

Niva blinked.

"You?"

"Me. I'm not going to steal any flame from your shaman, if that's what you're worried about."

The girl stared at her for several long seconds. Worry wrestled in her eyes against the same trust she had shown when inviting her to Emberfrost. Finally, she pressed her lips together, nodded, and rose from the bedding.

"I'll be right back."

Leaving the meat beside Seraya, she headed for the entrance, carefully stepping around the women seated along the path.

A moment later, the bushy snow-fox tail vanished around a bend in the rock.

Seraya let out a heavy breath and looked down at her dinner.

There was no way in hell she was eating it raw.

The smell alone turned her stomach. On top of that was the thought of whatever parasites might lurk in wild predator meat.

Back in her old world, she could at least see a doctor if something made her sick. Here, she had a cave, a handful of unknown herbs, and a shaman she hadn't even met yet.

Discreetly slipping her fingers into her pocket, she felt a small, hard object. Luckily, the lighter was still there.

The Obsidian Maw warriors had taken the items from her torn pack, but when tying her up, they hadn't bothered to search her clothes thoroughly.

For once, their carelessness worked in her favor.

Raised voices broke her train of thought.

Several cave dwellers were glancing her way, muttering about what she had just promised Niva. Seraya looked up and almost immediately met an unfriendly glare.

Across the aisle sat a young adult futa with broad shoulders and clear muscle definition along her arms.

Bull horns curved from her brow, and tufted lynx ears tipped with dark fur twitched atop her head. A short rabbit tail flicked as she leaned forward.

A dark red Crimson Mark crossed the right side of her face, now twisted in a mocking sneer.

"Only the shaman can summon the Holy Fire," she announced loudly. "Even the elders only tend it. And this outsider thinks she can just stroll in from the woods and do the same?"

Seraya slowly arched an eyebrow.

The woman scoffed, clearly pleased to have drawn an audience.

"Killing snakes, taming tigers... Big deal of a warrior."

"But she did calm the beast," another woman sitting nearby spoke up. "We all saw it."

"She got lucky!" the first shot back. "And now she thinks she can touch the Holy Fire!"

An older woman tugged her arm in warning, trying to get her to lower her voice.

The horned futa yanked her arm free in annoyance.

"What? Did I say something wrong?!"

Seraya watched her with growing bemusement.

What crawled up her ass?

She hadn't even properly settled in, and already someone else was offended by her breathing.

Niva's mother leaned in close to her shoulder.

"That's Raska, Rhaga's daughter," she whispered. "Pay her no mind, warrior. I don't think she likes how much attention Niva gives you."

Seraya looked at the mother, then back at the sullen futa.

The pieces fell into place.

Right... Jealousy.

As if elders clinging to power weren't enough, she had to deal with a horned green-eyed monster too!

"Your daughter is just being kind," she muttered. "If not for her, I'd probably still be sitting under some tree."

Niva's mother smiled faintly.

"She always tries to help."

Seraya glanced at the entrance and nodded.

"It shows. You raised her well."

Meanwhile, Raska kept running her mouth in a loud voice, shooting glances their way, clearly waiting for Seraya to take the bait.

Seraya couldn't care less about the show.

She was hungry, exhausted, and bruised all over. The last thing she needed was an argument over who was allowed to talk to Niva.

A moment later, Niva appeared at the entrance.

She carried an armful of branches, pinning a few thinner sticks beneath her chin, dry leaves and shredded bark wedged between them. She hurried over to the bare spot by the wall and dumped the bundle onto the stone with a loud rustle.

Raska's expression softened at once.

"Niva! Are you tired?" she asked with exaggerated concern, leaning toward her. "Are you hungry? I still have meat left. You can take it."

The girl didn't even look at the outstretched hand. Instead, she turned straight to Seraya.

"Warrior, is this enough?"

Seraya inspected the pile and gave an approving nod.

"Plenty. Thanks, Niva. And drop the 'warrior' title, okay? I have a name. Seraya."

Niva hesitated, as if addressing her by name required special permission.

"Seraya," she repeated carefully.

"Just like that."

The girl gave a shy smile, while Raska pressed her lips tight behind her.

Seraya rose from the bedding, picked up the meat, and moved over to the gathered wood. Crouching on the stone, she brushed aside a few stray wisps of dry grass and began sorting out the thinnest twigs.

The spot lay near the entrance, well away from the sleeping quarters. The draft stirred a scrap of hide hanging against the wall.

At least she wouldn't smoke out the whole cave making dinner.

Several women craned their necks, watching her arrange the kindling around a loose nest of dry leaves and shredded bark.

Raska crossed her arms under her chest.

"Look at her. She really thinks stacking sticks is all it takes," she sneered. "A common outsider can't summon fire. Stop staring and eat."

Some women looked away. Others watched Seraya a moment longer before turning back to their food.

Only Niva stayed.

She squatted opposite her, wrapping her arms around her knees, watching every movement with unbroken curiosity. Now and then she handed her a thin twig or brushed aside a damp strip of bark.

"Not worried this won't work?" Seraya asked, glancing up from the wood.

Niva shook her head.

"I trust you. If you say you can, you can."

Seraya paused for a heartbeat, twig in hand.

The answer was so plain and earnest that warmth crept into her face.

Damn it... How am I supposed to stay serious when she looks at me like that?

Clearing her throat, she quickly returned to the task.

Across the way, Raska's fingers dug into her cut of meat. Had the Homotherium been alive to see the fury she was taking out on its remains, it probably would have jumped back into the pit on its own.

Seraya stacked a few thicker sticks crisscross, leaving gaps between them. She pushed the rest of the wood aside to feed in later.

Niva tilted her head.

"Why leave spaces?"

"Air needs to get in. Pack it too tight and the fire suffocates."

The girl studied the pile with focused interest.

Seraya pointed to an opening near the base.

"It needs air through here too. Don't bury it in leaves."

Niva drew back her hand, setting down the handful of dry tinder.

Seraya reached into her pocket.

She pulled out the small lighter, checked it in the dim light, and wiped the top with her hem. She turned it in her fingers, a flicker of nervous doubt striking her.

After all that swamp water and rolling in the dirt, it had better work. If it didn't, the horned brat would never let her hear the end of it.

Niva edged closer.

"What is that?"

"A lighter."

"A ligh...?"

"You'll see."

Seraya struck the wheel with her thumb.

Click.

Nothing happened.

Her jaw tightened.

Come on, damn it. Don't fail me now.

She tried again.

Click!

A small flame danced above the metal hood.

Niva flinched back so hard she lost her balance, landing flat on the stones. Her rabbit ears locked upright, eyes widening like saucers.

"F-fire!" she gasped. "A miracle!"

Seraya looked at her helplessly.

"Not a miracle. A lighter. I told you."

But the girl wasn't listening.

She stared at the flame in awe, as if Seraya had pulled a shard of the sun from her pocket.

Her cry drew the others' attention, heads turning one after another.

A collective murmur swept through the cave.

The woman sitting closest dropped her fruit. Another backed from the wall and dropped to her knees. Someone gasped; someone covered her mouth.

"Fire..."

"She summoned fire!"

"A miracle!"

Seraya tried to speak, but a clamor of voices drowned her out.

"It's just... Whatever, never mind."

Cupping the flame with one hand, she brought it to the bark. The thin fibers caught, hesitant at first, then flaring brighter. Seraya released the valve, pocketed the lighter, and slid the burning tinder beneath the small twigs.

A thin trail of smoke rose from the kindling.

She leaned close and blew gently.

The embers glowed brighter, and a small tongue of fire crept between the sticks.

Crack.

The flame caught a dry leaf.

Niva let out a soft, delighted gasp.

Seraya straightened up, pulling her face away from the smoke. Her shirt slipped off one shoulder, so she hitched it up and added another dry stick.

"There. So much for magic," she muttered under her breath.

The fire grew steadily, casting warm light across the stones and the faces around them. The Crimson Mark on Seraya's cheek stood out sharp against her dirt-streaked skin as she leaned over the hearth.

To women who had been eating in the dark moments ago, the sight was far more striking than it felt to her.

Whispers rose into excited chatter.

Only Raska kept silent.

She sat rigid with tight lips, glaring at Seraya as though the flame itself were a personal insult.

Seraya paid her no heed.

Selecting several straight sticks, she whittled the tips with Niva's stone knife into skewers. She cut the meat into smaller chunks, threaded them on, and propped them over the fire, keeping a careful distance from the flames.

She had no interest in charring the outside while leaving the middle raw.

Soon, the first faint sizzle broke the silence.

The smell of roasting meat gradually pushed back the stale air around them.

Behind her, Seraya heard someone swallow hard.

Then another.

She glanced back.

Several women sat craning their necks, eyes glued to the meat she turned over the coals. One still held a raw slice by her mouth, having forgotten to take a bite.

Seraya sighed.

"Come on over. You can cook yours too."

The cave stirred. Women began getting up, gathering their shares and edging toward the fire.

"Stay back!"

Raska's shout cut through the cavern, making Niva flinch.

The horned futa pushed to her feet, glaring at the fire with open malice.

"That is not the Holy Fire summoned by Vaelira!" she declared. "You don't know what she did! That is Evil Fire!"

Seraya turned her head slowly.

No...

She didn't just say that.

"Meat from that fire isn't safe to eat!" Raska pressed on, emboldened as the others stopped. "Do you want to get sick?!"

The women hesitated.

One took a step back.

Another glanced nervously at Niva's mother. Excitement gave way to familiar caution, though their eyes kept drifting toward the sizzling meat.

Seraya simply stared at Raska for a few seconds.

Then she turned back to the hearth.

Suit yourselves.

She had no intention of lecturing them on chemistry just because a jealous idiot couldn't stand being proven wrong.

She had offered. If they didn't want it, fine.

Above all, she just wanted to eat.

She turned the skewers steadily, nudging them away from flare-ups. Niva stayed right beside her, never once looking Raska's way.

In time, the meat browned, dripping fat that hissed against the hot stones. Seraya cut open one of the thicker pieces with the knife, checked the center, and held it over the coals a moment longer.

Her stomach growled with growing urgency.

Even so, she handed the first finished skewer to Niva.

"Here. Give it a try. Careful, it's hot."

The girl took it with both hands.

Such unvarnished joy lit her face that Seraya smiled.

Niva brought the meat to her lips.

"Niva, don't eat that!"

Raska sprang up and stalked toward them.

"I told you, that's Evil Fire! You can't… "

She didn't finish; Niva had already bitten off a piece.

For a fraction of a second, the girl froze.

Then she clamped a hand over her mouth, a muffled sound escaping her throat:

"Mmm...!"

Raska reached them in two strides.

"See what you did?!"

She grabbed Seraya's shirt by the shoulder and hauled her back. Seraya stumbled on bent knees, pulling the skewer away from their faces on instinct.

"You idiot outsider! You hurt her with that fire of yours!"

Seraya felt the last of her patience vanish.

"Get your fucking hands off… "

"This is amazing!"

Niva's shout cut them both off.

She finally swallowed, drew a quick breath, and stared down at the skewer in pure wonder, completely oblivious to the scuffle beside her.

"It's... so good!"

Raska froze.

Her fingers still gripped Seraya's shirt, but the smug confidence drained from her face.

"B-but... you just..."

Niva looked up.

Only now did she notice the grip on Seraya's collar, her smile fading into a frown.

"It was hot!" she said crossly. "Why are you grabbing her? Let go!"

"I just... I thought..."

"Let her go."

Raska released her fingers as if the cloth had burned her.

Seraya yanked her shoulder back and smoothed her stretched shirt. She held the horned futa in a cold glare for a moment, then turned her back on her and faced the fire.

She was too hungry to waste her dinner on this moron.

She grabbed another skewer, turned the meat over the coals, and muttered loud enough for everyone to hear:

"Fire is fire. When it cooks meat, it cooks meat. It doesn't ask your shaman for permission."

Raska's face flushed a shade that looked sickly even in the firelight.

She darted glances between Seraya and Niva, who was carefully blowing on her next bite.

Then an excited voice called from the back:

"She's eating it!"

"And she's fine!"

"Cooked meat!"

The women surged forward at once.

Still standing in the middle of the path, Raska barely had time to turn her head. A shoulder bumped her, another body pushed past, and someone tripped over her foot.

The horned futa lost her balance and hit the dirt with a thud.

Nobody even looked at her.

Everyone crowded around the fire with their portions, snatching up the extra sticks and skewering their meat.

"Easy, damn it!" Seraya shouted, shielding her skewers from the press. "Meat over the flame, not your hands! Leave some space!"

Niva pressed closer to her side, still holding her roast. Her tail flicked with pleasure as one of her mothers knelt beside them, timidly holding her own skewer toward the heat.

Knees, shoulders, and outstretched hands crowded tight around the small fire. A buzz of excited chatter filled the cave, more cuts of meat appearing over the coals by the second.

Behind the circle, Raska sat on the stones, forgotten by everyone.

Before her crackled that same cursed Evil Fire, the very one she had forbidden anyone to touch just moments ago.