White Blood Read Free

screamed as she accepted yet another heavy tub. She staggered under its weight and turned to pass it on. But the man next to her was frozen, staring into the sky. Maryn jammed the tub into his back. “Take it!”
    The man accepted it and set it down at his feet. He waved a quelling hand at Maryn. “Hush. Look. Something’s happening.”
    “No! We’ve got to keep—” But then Maryn saw.
    High above, the black pall of smoke swirled, blown by a wind sprung from nowhere. Other than smoke, the sky had been cloudless all day, the merciless sun beating down, augmenting the heat of the fire. Now a towering thunderhead began to build, growing in minutes from a mere wisp to an enormous dome looming overhead. Blue lightning flickered around its edges, but no thunder sounded. A buzz started in Maryn’s heels and ascended to the base of her skull, intensifying until she felt as if all her teeth would fall out and her skull would crack open.
    The cloud grew dark. The light took on a green cast. A drop of rain smacked Maryn in the nose. Another struck her outstretched palm. The heavens opened and sheets of water plummeted down, streaming through Maryn’s bedraggled braids and sluicing into her eyes and down the back of her neck. She reveled in the flood, raising her hands in thanksgiving, until she had to duck her head again to keep from choking and drowning.
    “Sorcery!” the man cried, the excitement in his voice tinged with fear. Maryn understood his apprehension. It must have taken a huge quantity of blood to fuel so tremendous a spell. Far more than any sorcerer could spare of his own.
    But the man shook off his doubt, as rain poured down and the fire roared and billowed mountains of white steam. “Ralo is saved!”
    Someone flung her arms around Maryn, laughing and sobbing. The woman spun away, but Maryn grabbed a stranger in turn and embraced him. Everyone clung to one another in a riot of celebration and release.
    The deluge continued, cold and relentless. The crowd pressed forward, eager to see the fire swallowed up by the magic rain. Maryn went with them, down the street that led toward her home.
    The flames subsided beneath the pounding water, though in places they still flared, defying the downpour. Skeletons of buildings tilted at crazy angles or lay collapsed in steaming, hissing piles of rubble. Scorched plaster walls stood, empty shells encasing ash. The whole south quarter of Ralo was a black, sodden ruin stretching as far as Maryn could see.
    Maryn’s steps slowed until she halted, cold and soaked. She began to shiver. She could not seem to control her body; it shook in ragged waves that seized her more strongly every moment. She sank to the ground. Water flowed in the street. It pooled around her, muddy and foul, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.
    She didn’t know how long she huddled there. Others came and went around her. She heard screaming, and shouting, and agitated voices. At length the rain slackened, and stopped as suddenly as it had begun.
    Someone tugged at her sleeve. “Girl, come. They’ve opened up the church to shelter those who’ve lost their homes. You can get dry there, and warm.”
    She shook the kindly stranger off. “No. I haven’t lost my home. I’m sure it’s fine. It’s not in the part of town that burned. It’s not!”
    “If you’re sure.” He still sounded concerned, but Maryn stared at his feet until he left.
    She had to get home. She had to find Edrich. Frilan would be so hungry. Her breasts hurt, hot and heavy with the milk that should have gone to feed his greedy appetite. Siwell would scold her. The midwife had warned her not to go too long without nursing; that she would risk clogging up her breasts with blockages or developing a fever. Maybe that’s what was happening now. Maybe that’s why she felt so odd and disoriented.
    Maryn struggled to her feet. She needed to nurse Frilan. That would heal the ache in her breasts and clear the fog from her mind. Once