A Deadly Bite

19 || Leaking Fear

"What do you mean he isn't here anymore?"

Fiesi spins sharply on his heels to glare up at the sky, then instantly regrets it as an unpleasant twinge races up his leg. Wincing, he shifts his weight to the uninjured one, his annoyance flaring all the more. He lets it all spill along Rigel's thread to impale that obnoxious bluebird with fiery anger.

All Rigel filters back is a dry, unfazed blankness. I mean the boy is not there. An impatient flutter of his wings tremors the thread. Stop talking aloud to me. I am not there either, and the Cormé are likely beginning to stare.

"Like I care," Fiesi grumbles. Spite coats his tongue in a thick, faintly satisfying paste, though it's not nearly enough to improve his mood. His boots wearing a dinge into the gritty surface of Kavas's main path, he shifts back, tracing his gaze over the high-rise rooftops to locate the sun. It's already dangling into the western sky. The day has slid into a grimy afternoon, the grey atmosphere so potent he can practically taste the silty fog in his lungs. It's begun to wail through the streets in chilling gusts. His cloak yanks sharply to the side, lashing at his arm, and he bats at it with gritted teeth.

A shift of movement in the corner of his eye makes him turn. Jaci leans into the side of a building, calmly constructing a diamond-shaped ice crystal balanced atop her outstretched forefinger. He folds his arms in an attempt to pin some of the cloak against his midsection and turns his glare on her. "You can't use your magic here. We're in a Cormé town."

She casts him a slanted stare over her hand, but obliges, the ice settling back against her dark skin. It only lingers long enough to sketch out two words on her arm, large enough for him to read. Nobody about.

"That isn't an excuse." He hugs himself tighter as wind sweeps past him again, a few strands of hair blowing into his face. He doesn't bother to swipe them back into place. "Don't you think I'd be starting a fire if I could? I'm freezing."

Her lips quirk. She presses a fist to them, but he catches her snigger all the same. Heat prickles beneath his skin. "What?"

She mimics his scowl in a rather embellished fashion.

With a huff, he turns his head to the side. "Shut it. I've every right to be a little irate." He paces a line past her if only to work some feeling back into his toes. His leg continues to ache. The wound has all but closed up now beneath its icy bandage, but it's hardly healed; every slight movement is riddled with constant pain. His next step accidentally leans too heavily on it, and he stumbles, tipping sideways to catch himself on the wall beside Jaci. She momentarily abandons her mockery to grab his arm, though he shrugs her off, instead slamming his shoulders into the panels behind with his leg half-lifted.

A growl scrapes between his teeth, and he rakes a hand through his hair. "We walked all this time to get here, and it was utterly pointless."

Not pointless, Rigel offers in that helpful tone, the kind that is very much unhelpful when it comes to resisting the urge to punch something. If you have made it this far, you might as well keep following. A clipped sigh cuts between the words. I suppose I am stuck with you.

"I will keep following," Fiesi snaps back. "Whether you want me to or not. I'm just..." He pins the ground with his stare. Even without the injury, his feet are sore and throbbing from the hours of trudging through muddy woodland. "Very tired." He lets out a sigh. "It's like last time all over again."

Jaci rests a hand on his shoulder. Her touch isn't as cold as the air, and though it's not as warm as he'd like, it's something. He shoots her a tight smile, focusing on calming the twisted strands of flame until the burn in his throat retreats. "Well. You're here. I suppose that's a tiny improvement."