Rising Fire Read Free Page A

blood.”
    Brienne laughed aloud, feeling the power course through her, stronger and stronger each moment. The voice, the words, the flames at her command all confirmed her suspicion that she could control the fire. After hours or minutes—she knew not which—of her standing untouched within the flames, they began to sway and spark around her. As she gathered them once more under her control, they parted for her to move away.
    When the voice disappeared completely, when she knew that presence was gone, her fear heightened. The heat began to burn her skin, so she tamped down the flames, guiding them back to the hearth of the smithy, easing them back into the coals of burning wood there so that they would be ready for her father’s use. A smile teased the corners of her mouth as inappropriate pride flooded her.
    She had done it!
    Each time she dared, her power over the fire seemed to grow. And grow stronger. But this day, this time, she had stepped within them without dire consequences. Next time she would—
    â€œBrienne.”
    She jumped at the interruption and spun around to face the door to the small building. Her father stood there, staring at her. Had he seen her move the fire? From the blank expression on her father’s face, she could not tell. Pressing her now-sweating palms on her gown and adjusting her veil back into place, she waited for his reaction.
    He closed the door quickly behind himself and checked the shutters, just as she had before attempting to call forth the ability to command the flames. But she’d not barred the door, so he could have seen everything she’d done. Would the flames follow her commands if another were present, or was this something she could do only in secret?
    Brienne watched as concern and wariness entered his gaze. Leaving some tools near the doorway, he walked slowly toward his hearth, glancing between it and her several times.
    â€œAre you injured? Are you burned?” he asked as hetook one hand of hers and then the other in his larger ones, searching for signs of damage. Then he met her gaze. “How is this possible? What have you done?”
    His suspicious, accusatory tone hurt her, but Brienne understood that he was worried about her. She stepped away from him and away from the constant draw of the flames before answering.
    â€œI . . . ,” she stammered, not truly knowing how to explain it all to him. Brienne glanced at him, imploring him to understand.
    â€œCome here, lass,” he said softly, opening his strong arms to her as he always did.
    Embraced by him, she felt safe . . . for the moment. These feelings, these powers, these changes that grew stronger and stronger with each passing day frightened her. There was no one she could speak with about them. No one who could understand or accept that she was more like her true father than anyone had guessed. Even though Gavin the blacksmith had raised her and loved her as his own, she was not.
    She shuddered at the thought of her true father, and Gavin responded by hugging her even tighter. The tears gathered in her eyes as she kept silent.
    â€œI will keep ye safe, Brienne,” he promised. His words and warm breath tickled her ear, and she nodded, accepting his pledge even if it were not the truth.
    â€œI know you will, Father,” she said, nodding her head and granting herself another moment of comfort before moving out of his embrace. “I have so many questions.”
    As always, her words stopped him. Gavin hated her questions. He hated the reminder that she was not his, that there was another who could step in at any time and take her. And though years had passed since anyinterest had been shown, all it would take was the untoward word and unguarded action to draw the wrong attention.
    â€œI fear there is little I can add to what you’ve heard from your mother or ken already, lass. The lord had you brought here to us when you were but days