Asher rests his chin on one knee, and silence falls between us. He shivers and closes his eyes, holding his hands to his chest. I jump as the gold-white flames blaze back to life around his fingers, filling the air with an almost painful heat. He only hunches over them, though, his face clouded with weariness.

"Are you okay?" A twinge of guilt burns through my chest. Of all the questions whirling through my mind, this should have been the first.

"Yeah." Asher sits up a little straighter, but if he's trying to hide his exhaustion, he's failing miserably. "I'm just... drained."

Asher's taller than me, but with him curled up on the ground like that I'm forced to look down at him. I hesitate for a few moments, fidgeting, and then awkwardly sit down. I keep my legs beneath me, though, ready to jerk upright if I must. Terror still burns through my veins every time I glance back at Fiesi's limp figure, and I have no idea what to make of this boy. But he doesn't seem hostile, and I can't just leave him here.

I allow a scrap of fire to twine around my wrist, holding it close as I struggle to sort through my own confusion. "Why? And what were you doing all alone here?"

Asher glances up, then quickly drops his gaze to the ground. He bites his lip; the flames around his wrist abruptly stretch sideways, as if caught by some invisible wind.

"You don't have to tell me," I add hastily, catching the movement. He didn't press when he asked me about Fiesi. Still, curiosity burns on my tongue.

"It's fine," Asher finally says, the words edged with some hidden emotion. "I'd been caught by two Valkir. Rivas—that man I mentioned—found me, but I managed to, ah... I don't know a word for it. Transport myself. Everything kind of... faded, and then I was here."

"You..." My mouth falls open. "How?"

"Magic." Asher says it so plainly. "Desperation. And luck."

Shock reels through me. "But how... how can you do all of that?" I still know nothing of Enkavmé, but Fiesi told me Tía are the only ones who can use fire; at the same time, it is all they can use. I shudder, the memory of his azure flames bringing my thoughts to a screeching halt. He'd been speaking from experience.

Asher is quiet for a long moment. "I guess my power works differently from yours. It's fluid. Limitless—at least, in possibility. My strength determines how much I can handle, I think." He frowns, then, as if he's doubting himself. "I don't really know how it works."

I stare, lost for words. The concept doesn't fit in my mind right; it's difficult to grasp, impossible to understand.

"If you don't mind me asking,"—Asher shifts, uncertainty flashing across his face—"how are you, er, Adeía? And what were you doing out here?"

An exchange of secrets. Fiesi's words, still so recent, echo through my head. I flinch. But Asher saved me, even though he had experienced my power firsthand. Not to mention he answered my questions; it is only right to answer his in turn. I close my eyes for a moment, bracing myself, and start talking.

<><><>

I keep my story short, sketching a brief outline of the abrupt release from my cell, the escape from Neiyabet with Fiesi, the trip to Ligari, and, finally, my gloves. I falter when I try to go beyond that, though. The truth still burns inside my throat, stinging my eyes.

Asher, who has spoken very little so far, spares me the pain. "He waited until you got the gloves, didn't he? He tried to kill you. You were running from him." His eyes are sharp, anger crackling through them as his gaze roves over my shoulder.

I muster a nod, refusing to let my attention flick to Fiesi. He's still asleep. He can't hurt me now. I cling to that knowledge, but terror still jangles through my nerves. The gloves are still in my hand; I peel my fingers away to reveal the silky material. The silver thread glints. My previous urge to throw them resurfaces, and I tip my hand. They fall to the ground, limp and unassuming.

Asher shifts. With a jolt, I realize that we're only a yard apart. I instinctively shrink away, tugging my flame closer to my heart. It's calmed by now; only a few flickering streaks of darkness twine between my fingers, and they quickly fade away as I realize Asher isn't going to move any closer.

"Where are you going to go now?" Asher asks, his gaze brushing across my gloves.

I freeze. My thoughts go blank; I open my mouth, and then shut it as one image swims to the fore of my mind. Golden hair, a sunny smile. A girl of light, unafraid, unchanging.

You should go looking for her. This time, Fiesi's voice brings no fear. He was right. The words fly from my lips before I can think them over, ringing with that one, last truth. "There was a girl. I met her when I was in Oscensi. I'm going to find her."

"Why?" Asher frowns. "Didn't they imprison you?"

"She was different." I curl my fingers, remembering the beaten soldiers in Polevis' castle. No. She's still out there. She has to be. "And she could be in danger."

Asher stares at me. Finally, a soft smile flickers across his lips. "Sounds noble."

"I..." My voice fades away. That is one word I would never have thought to be attributed to me; it lights the smallest spark of warmth inside my heart, thawing a cold I hadn't known was there. "Well, what about you? What are you going to do?"

A pause, heavy and suddenly dark. Asher's eyes drop, reflecting the fire writhing around his hands. "I don't know. There's nowhere for me to go."

I'm afraid to break the fragile silence that follows those words; shoving down my curiosity, I curl my legs closer to myself and wrap my arms around my knees. Fiesi's breathing whispers at the edge of my hearing, soft and steady. Some part of me is relieved to hear it—when he'd fallen, I'd panicked. Even with the memory of his knife and the hatred in his eyes, I couldn't bring myself to think about Fiesi being hurt. I still can't. I bite back a laugh, feeling my eyes start to burn. What an idiot I must be.

"Nathan?"

I jerk my head up. Asher's voice is weak, a little shaky. His golden flames flicker again; as I watch, they fade entirely. He slumps against the tree trunk, wincing and bringing one hand to the side of his head.

"Are you able to start fires?" he says after a moment, almost pleadingly.

Heat. I glance at Asher's outfit, taking note of it for the first time. He has a cloak, but his other clothes are thin and torn. The cold doesn't bother me, but he must be freezing.

"Yes," I force myself to get up, casting my eyes about for dry wood to use. "I-I think so."

By the time I grab a few branches and drag them over, Asher's eyes are closed. I hesitantly let my flame rise again, focusing everything I have into drawing out the single, wavering spark of heat Fiesi helped me find. It takes a little longer than the first time, but I manage to set the wood alight. Yet again, I feel a little surge of pride as I stretch the fire—real fire, glowing and hot—across the branches. It's still within my control. I have more than just my cursed flame.

Asher looks up as the golden glow of the fire strengthens. He stretches out one hand, hesitates, turns to me. "Can these kill me?"

"I don't think so." I glance over at my gloves, still lying on the ground. Almost without thinking, I snatch them up and tuck them in my belt. Whatever they were meant for, I still need them. They're still a gift.

Asher nods and moves closer to the flames, shivering. His gaze moves in Fiesi's direction. "What do you want to do with him?"

The meaning behind the words feels like a blow. I waver, glancing over my shoulder. Fiesi hasn't moved, sprawled across the snow. He's shaking, small tremors I can just catch in the dim light. "I..." I swallow. "I don't want him to die here."

"Why?" Asher's watching me closely, head tilted to the side.

I think of Finlay, of the laughter in his face when he threw a snowball at me. Lie or not, I don't want to see his azure eyes turn empty, cold. "I can't kill anyone else. I just can't."

A small flash of blue catches my eye; I look up just as a small shape leaps from the branches above, quickly getting lost in the night. A bird. I stare after it, desperate to keep myself from looking back at Asher. Anyone else. I just told him I've killed. The memories flicker in the back of my mind, and I suck in a sharp breath.

"Were you trying to kill them?" Asher asks quietly. He caught the truth, then.

"No." My voice cracks. I keep my eyes on the canopy. "I couldn't stop it."

"Then it's not your fault."

Shock jarrs through me. I hear nothing but honesty in Asher's tone, but the words still sting. Fiesi said the same thing. He'd been lying. I swallow, turning my attention to the stars. They glitter in a sea of black, cold and distant. Maybe I didn't mean to kill them, but nothing can change the fact that it felt good. Like breathing. I shudder, shoving the thought away.

After a long pause, Asher tries to stand up. He wobbles, falling back to one knee and leaning against the tree. "Ow... Can you pull Fin—Fiesi over to the fire?"

I finally wrench my attention from the sky to stare at him. "What?"

"He might freeze to death if we leave him over there." Asher shrugs halfheartedly. "I don't think I can drag him like this."

I close my mouth and nod. Focus. I fumble for my gloves, awkwardly pulling them over my hands. Exhaustion tumbles over me the moment my flame fades away, locked behind the thin fabric. I gather my strength and stand, moving to Fiesi's side. When I grasp his arm, still warm even beneath his shirt, I fight the urge to recoil. My fire surges, but, just as before, the barrier of the gloves turns it away. I shift my grip, trying to steady myself.

"You, uh... it's easier if you grab him by the armpits," Asher pipes up from his tree.

I start, feeling a distant heat climb my cheeks. With a nod, I do as Asher suggested, hauling Fiesi a few inches off the ground with a sharp exhale. He's heavy: I drag him as close to the fire as I can, my skin crawling at how close we are, terrified he'll wake up. But he doesn't, and a moment later I've released him and fled back to my original sitting place. He's even closer than Asher—I resist the urge to tear the gloves off again, terrified I might accidentally brush against him somehow.

Asher stretches out his hands to the fire, flexing them a few times. They're shaking a little. "I think... I could wake him up and tell him not to follow us, once I get some energy back. Then we can go." He glances over his shoulder, fear flashing through his eyes. "We should probably leave as soon as we can."

"We?" I twist my hands together, still not used to the feel of the fabric enclosing them. He must have misspoken. I tamp down the void that opens within me at the thought of being alone, Fiesi somewhere behind me.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to..." Asher falters, rubbing the back of his neck. "I can go somewhere else, if you want. I'm just not sure where—"

"No! I didn't mean it like that," I interrupt, louder than I meant to. I wince. "But... why would you want to come with me?"

Asher glances down, a few strands of hair falling across his eyes. "I could try to help, but... no. I'd bring Rivas to you, and I don't know what he'd do. Forget I said anything."

"I have people after me, too. It's not just Fiesi," I blurt out. "We have that in common, remember?"

"Yeah." Asher swallows. "But... it's like I said. Our magic is limitless. I don't... I don't know what he could do."

"I'm not powerless." I look up at him, steeling myself. He needs help; and, to be honest, so do I. "There's strength in numbers, right?"

His eyes waver. "Are you sure?"

"If you are," I say, uncertainty still crawling through me.

"Okay." Asher leans back, giving me a hesitant smile. "Okay. Strength in numbers."