Chapter 13: What He Gave

Phlegon was waiting in the corridor outside the little stone room.

He stood with his back against the wall and his hands open at his sides.

He had heard every word through the door, or he knew my father well enough not to need to.

"Walk with me," I said.

I did not take his arm.

I led him up the stair to our bedchamber and shut the door behind us.

The hearth was lit, and had been for days, and I hated how safe it looked.

"Tell me what you gave me at the Sunfall."

"Helia."

"Tell me, Phlegon."

He crossed to the window and stood with his back to me.

"You were six," he said. "You were dying, and I gave you half of what I was."

He said it flatly.

"That's all?"

"It's all I can say. I don't have the words for the rest."

"Then don't use words."

I walked to him, took his hand, and pressed it flat against the warm place under my ribs.

The spot flared so hard that I gasped.

Then the room went white, and I was small.

I was lying on silk that smelled of lilies, and my chest was a furnace with the door shut.

My father was kneeling at the bedside with his gold beard wet, saying my name over and over.

A tall boy with ash-dark hair leaned over me, his grey eyes tired and frightened and very kind.

"Don't cry," he said. "I have extra."

He put his palm on my chest, and the furnace opened.

Heat ran out of him into me.

I remembered laughing.

I remembered that I had asked him if he was the fire man from my dream.

I remembered him saying, "If you want me to be."

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