Archive of Our Own

The climb to Fintan’s hut was steep. 

Slicing winds from the ocean clung to the cliffside, whipping Marella’s hair into her face and jerking her himation . Pebbles rolled into her sandals and burrowed under her feet. She had no doubt that her soles would be black with dirt by the end of her visit. Her toes would be stubbed too, if she didn’t stop stumbling around blind with her hair in her eyes and the summer sun blinding her. 

Marella always hated the hike to her mentor, but today felt especially taxing. Her mother had been in one of her moods all morning. Marella always tried to be understanding but the irritability had been difficult to stomach so early. Going to her mentoring session had been somewhat of a relief if only to escape the (passive) aggressive comments and tension. 

Marella knew better than to hold it against her mother though. By afternoon, her mom will likely have calmed down and be apologetic. Weepy and solemn in a way that didn’t suit her bright eyes and smile lines. They would have a late lunch and everything would be okay – until the next blowup. 

Honestly, Marella should probably be thanking her mother. Without her mood swings, it would be nearly impossible to tolerate these sessions. Between Fintan’s aging erratics and Brant’s general instability, managing the two felt like being right at home. 

Marella retucked her robes underneath her arm for the nth time. The wind only got colder the further up the trail she walked but thanks to her blessing she was still perfectly fine in her thin, summer wear. It wouldn’t be until the last ten-minute stretch that she would start to get chills. 

Such a spot wasn’t the natural settling point for those blessed by Hephaestus. Most preferred hotter spots, further inland where the coast was less likely to cool down the land. 

But Fintan had been assigned the top of the cliffside as part of his punishment. It was much harder to summon Everblaze where the fire didn’t naturally breathe. 

Fintan thought the reasoning was stupid. Fire was everywhere. The Council would know that if they ever bothered to pull their heads out of their moronic prejudice , he’d rant. Brant would hum along. Marella would vaguely nod, eyes on the window, wondering how much longer was left in her lesson. 

She hoped that Fintan would be more grounded today. Less likely to go on his wandering tirades and ambles into the past, when those blessed with the fire of the Gods were revered. 

It’s not that Marella didn’t appreciate where Fintan was coming from. But would it kill him to stop repeating the same lines she’d heard before? 

Probably, now that she’d thought about it. 

The man was so ancient he was likely to blow into dust at the next breeze. 

Marella pushed more hair off her cheeks. She just had to make it through the morning. 

Then she could go to the public baths with Linh and forget all about her horrible blessing. 

Brant opened the door for her. Of course. 

It had taken some time to stop visibly reacting whenever she saw his face. The scaring was extensive, covering large portions of his face and body. When she’d first met him, Marella couldn’t stop sneaking peeks when his back was turned. 

Now, she pushed past him as soon as possible. 

“What? No hello?” 

Marella made her way into the, for lack of a better word, shack and sighed. “Hi, Brant.” 

Brant raised whatever was left of his eyebrow. “Someone’s in a mood.” 

“Where’s Fintan?” 

“Out back,” Brant scoffed. 

Marella just barely bit back asking why Brant bothered to spend so much time here if he hated Fintan’s garden that much. The man was obsessive about it. About half of Marella’s sessions were about gardening with how much Fintan talked about his plants. She might’ve been tempted to pick up the hobby herself with how much latent knowledge she had but she couldn’t stand how dirty it would make her. 

Flowers were pretty, Marella could admit. Just not that pretty. 

“Is he gonna come in anytime soon?” She asked, walking around the cramped kitchen table to look out the window. Tools were scattered around the ground, but no sign of the man himself. 

“How am I supposed to know?” Brant rasped. 

“I don’t know,” Marella said. “Maybe because you guys basically live together?” 

“We do not–” 

“Marella!” Fintan exclaimed as he walked through the door. The chain around his ankle clanked as he walked, tracking dirt across the floor. “You’re back.” 

“Well, who would want to miss this?” Marella replied sarcastically. 

It was important to make Fintan and Brant think they hadn’t phased her. With how little they interacted with the general public these days, they both fed on any reaction they could get. 

“We’ll be outside in the courtyard today,” Fintan said, dropping his dirty gloves on the table and immediately walking back outside. The rudeness wasn’t surprising but the abruptness was. Usually, Fintan liked the rant (a lot) before starting her session. 

Marella looked at Brant to see if he was surprised about the change in demeanor, but he just grinned. “Have fun.” 

Marella was not responding to that. Instead, she tossed her braids over her shoulder and headed outside. 

The courtyard was plain. Simple white tiles lined the grounds. Vines hung from wooden poles. Only a few yards from the cliff's edge, it opened to a perfect ocean view. 

They held their lessons out here often. The sun climbed the horizon in front of them, feeding their sparks. 

For a location intended to be punishing, the area could be beautiful. 

But right then? Marella wanted to burn the whole place down. 

“You want to do what ?” 

“You heard.” 

Yeah, she was so not in the mood to deal with Fintan today. 

“You’re right!” She exclaimed with false cheer. “I did hear you say you’re gonna retry the totally awesome plan that got you exiled!” 

Fintan turned his eyes away from the sky and arched a brow at her. “Not just me. We.” 

“Righhhhhhhht,” Marella said. “Hard pass.” 

“This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.” 

“Unless you’re you. Then it’s apparently twice in a lifetime.” 

Marella always knew that Fintan was a self-important ass but this was a whole new level. She was barely allowed to attend these lessons, thanks to the taboo he and Brant had placed on a fire blessing. It was their fault that she had to hide her abilities – that those “improperly” blessed by Hephaestus were shamed and shunned. Dex could build anything he could dream, but by Zeus, Marella sparked one tiny flame and she’d barely be allowed to walk free. 

Marella worked hard to get as much trust as she had from the Council. Didn’t break a single rule. Obeyed every guideline they forced on her. Tolerated the endless interrogations from Bronte about every and any trivial thing Fintan did. And now Fintan wanted her to throw it all away for his stupid obsession? 

( It wasn’t stupid, a small part of her whispered. The same one that begged feed me in a soft, crackly voice.) 

“This is the opportunity of a lifetime,” Fintan repeated like she hadn’t spoken. “It must be taken advantage of. Everblaze is a gift.” 

“No,” Marella said. “It’s not.” 

Everybody knew what Everblaze was capable of. The death it razed. 

Fintan had killed five with it after stealing it from Zeus himself. 

“Fire is full of possibilities. A decent pyrokinetic should never be afraid of the flames.”  

“I’m not afraid.” 

She hated when Fintan looked at her directly. Blue eyes stared directly into hers. “You’ve let the Council contaminate your mind – they’ve poisoned you against yourself. If it wasn’t for the selfishness of that tyrant,” both their eyes jumped to the sky, “Everblaze would be as revered as it should be. Fire would be celebrated as it should be.” 

Yeah, right. Marella could think of another word that began with F that he could be referring to. 

“You don’t even get it,” Marella said in amazement. 

“I understand perfectly.” 

The words were acidic on her tongue. “You’re not imprisoned because of fire. You’re imprisoned because you stole from Zeus himself! Because you killed people! I won’t be a part of that.” 

“That you think that’s all there is to it is proof that you know nothing.”

Marella clenched her fists. Above them, birds began circling, perching themselves on the wooden slats of the roof. They cawed and ruffled their feathers. Fintan rubbed his stomach absently; he always claimed the birds gave him stomach aches. 

“The Everblaze cannot be called away from Olympus until the Summer Solstice next week,” Fintan eventually continued after staring at the birds so long Marella wondered whether his mind had wandered again. “You don’t have to make a decision right away. I’m trapped here; no one knows we’ve had this conversation. Take the time to decide for yourself – it’ll be our little secret.” 

“He asked you to do what ?” Linh practically screamed for everyone at the public bath to hear. 

“Shhhhh, keep your voice down!” Nobody turned to look at them, but still. You could never be too careful. 

“I can’t believe Fintan asked you to help him summon Everblaze ,” Linh whispered, clutching the corners of the stone. Their feet drifted in the water as they sat on the pool’s edge. Around them, people in various states of undress splashed themselves. 

It was easier to come here now that Linh had improved her control. Poseidon’s blessing had made it difficult for her to be near water in any capacity, much less surrounded by large pools of it. To sit next to water in a public place – much less dangle her feet in it – had been an indescribable victory. Proof that Linh was more than the risk the Council had made her out to be. 

Marella breathed through the jealously. 

Ignored the spark that poked her every time Linh swirled the water aimlessly as they spoke. Curled it around her fingers and did not fear exile. 

It was unfair. Marella knew it was unfair after what Linh and Tam had been through. 

But Marella still wished that the solution to her problems was gaining control. With every passing conversation with Bronte, the Councillor assigned to monitor Fintan’s punishment – and Marella’s lessons by extension – it became clearer the goalpost wouldn’t stop moving anytime soon. 

“You’re not gonna do it, right?” Linh asked. 

Everblaze was dangerous. 

It was stolen from the Gods themselves. 

It was everything wrong with her blessing burned out of control. 

“Of course not! I’m not helping him with anything! I have no interest in moving into the Creepy Cottage with him and Brant.” 

No matter how good it felt. 

Linh wrinkled her nose, twisting strands of water around her fingers. “Can you imagine living with them? Yeesh.” 

Her stomach stopped squeezing with the change in conversation, instead struck by the sudden vision of them all in the garden together, pulling weeds like some kind of messed up, freakshow family. “Don’t even. It’s bad enough having to see them twice a week.” 

“What did Brant say about this? Is he gonna do it?” 

Marella gestured for Linh to pass her the sponge on the edge of the bath while shrugging. She pushed it between her toes, hoping that having something to do with her hands would somehow make this conversation less painful. “I don’t know. I didn’t talk to him about it before I left. He probably will, though. The only thing he loved more than fire was—” 

Marella stopped herself before she could finish the sentence. 

Her rocky relationship with Sophie was no secret. They were on decent terms now, but it was easy to remember the sting of rejection when Sophie had chosen her current friends over Marella. Sure, they were all one big group now, but it would be a lie to say that there weren’t smaller, closer relationships within it. 

Marella and Sophie were not in the same small group anymore. 

“Are you gonna go to the Vacker’s party?” 

Leave it to Linh to choose an equally fraught topic change. 

“I guess for Maruca,” Marella said. “Has she said anything to you about it?” 

“Just that she’s nervous,” Linh replied. “That’ll be weird to be at Everglen after so long.” 

Marella and Sophie weren’t the only ones working through some ex-friend awkwardness. Biana and Marcua were nowhere near the best friends they were. But they were trying to bridge the gap, one painful hangout at a time. 

Stina, Marella, and Linh were trying to be supportive, which meant attending the Vacker Summer Solstice party a few days before the solstice itself. It was the first time Marcua was going back to Everglen after her and Biana’s fallout, and the first time Marella was going there at all. 

It would be fine though. They were all friends now. 

She just had to keep telling herself that. 

“Well, we’ll all be there. Hopefully, it won’t be too awkward.” Unlikely. 

Linh snorted. “At least you have an out. ‘Sorry guys, I have to do some super illegal fire stealing with Fintan, see ya later!’”

“Please,” Marella rolled her eyes. “I could leave way cooler than that.” 

Linh laughed, light and loud. “Oh, sorry. I forgot you love a dramatic entrance.” 

“I do not!” Marella replied in fake outrage. 

This was easier. Bickering with Linh at the public bath. Running the sponge against her soles. 

Thinking about anything but Fintan’s offer. 

Her dad was cleaning cucumbers when she got home. 

“Hey,” he greeted her when she walked into the courtyard. A bucket sat at his feet filled with water to clean the dirt.  

 “Hey. You went to the agora today?” Marella asked. 

“Yup,” her dad grinned. “There are some dates inside if you’re hungry.” 

“Cool,” Marella smiled back and headed inside. A noise from her dad stopped her. 

“Your Mom’s, uh, not having a good day,” he warned, eyes pinched. “Be careful? She was a little down when I left.” 

That explained the sudden need to do chores outside. 

Marella nodded, lips pressed together. “Okay.” 

“Just be gentle with her.” 

“I know.” 

“She doesn’t mean it.” 

“I know, Dad.” 

“Alright.” He picked his cucumber back up. “Dinner will be soon.” 

“Okay.” Marella tugged at one of her braids. “Do you need me to light a fire for it?” 

“No,” he said after a moment. “Better not today. We’ll have a salad.” 

Marella avoided looking at the house. Her hands tingled. “Sure.” 

Her dad dipped his head. “Alright.” 

He didn’t say anything more as she trudged inside. 

Bronte stared at Marella from behind his ornate pine desk. 

“Ms. Redek,” Bronte greeted her. “Please take a seat.” 

Marella sat in the chair on the right, hands crossed in her lap. These meetings had become less nerve-wracking as the months went by, but Marella would always feel a tiny bit nervous to be sitting in a Councilor’s office. Especially Bronte’s office. 

“How were your lessons this week?” 

Oh, awesome! Fintan wants me to help him steal from the Gods again. Think I should help him? 

“They were alright,” she settled on. 

Bronte made a note. Marella tried not to read it upside down. 

“And how was Fintan?” 

Creepy. Overbearing. Self-centered. Using plural pronouns with an evil undertone. 

Planning to steal more Everblaze from Zeus. 

She should probably report that. Strike that, she should definitely report that. Bronte did these interviews hoping for a scrap of information. Here Marella was sitting on the motherload. 

A crime of this magnitude was something she should have taken to the Council straight away, like a good citizen. Like any other blessed follower of Olympus. 

Linh explained to her once that the hardest thing about water was how much of it there was. In the air, in bodies, in food, in plants. In a huge ocean that screamed for her attention. But no matter what it looked like, it was always water in one shape or another. That’s what made it so difficult to filter out the noise. 

Fire was different. Yes, it was still fire regardless of how hot it burned, nothing was changing there. But fire was hungry. It ate everything in its path and still wanted more. The hotter the flame, the more it screamed. 

The way Fintan described it, Everblaze shrieked. 

Louder than anything she’d ever heard. Wilder than any flame she’d ever tamed. 

The hardest challenge for those blessed by Hephaestus. 

The most perfect reward.  

It was a feeling with no words.

(Fintan felt it. He thought Marella was capable of feeling it too.) 

Of course, she didn’t want it. She would never mess with something so dangerous – something forbidden by Zeus himself. 

But if she snitched, the chance would be lost. 

Not to mention the fact that the Council would probably make her an accomplice regardless of her involvement. Fintan was a narcissist, but he wasn’t delusional. Bronte may claim these meetings were about Fintan, but they were just as much about watching Marella. Keeping her afraid and obedient. 

“He was the same,” Marella said. “A lot of ranting about you,” a twitch in the left eye, “and the Council. Some complaining about the birds. He made me do a million layering drills.” 

None of that was technically a lie. Fintan did do all of that. 

“I see.” Bronte settled his hands on his desk. His mouth set in a stern line. “Be careful, Ms. Redek. With the Solstice approaching, Fintan may be more erratic than usual.” 

“I can handle it.” 

“I have no doubt. But Fintan is an incredibly dangerous man. It was one of the reasons he was selected for the Council in the first place. He has only compounded that danger in the years since. Do not let him lull you into a false sense of security. You will regret it.” Bronte’s eyes met hers. “Trust me.” 

Fintan was waiting for her on the patio. 

“Marella,” he greeted. “You’ve returned.” 

“Uh, was I not supposed to?” 

Fintan shrugged one shoulder, eyes trained on her. His sharp blue eyes were unnerving. Hawkish. “I assumed after your tantrum last week, you would no longer be allowed on these little visits.” 

Marella refused to let the surprise cross her face. “Maybe the Council is waiting to see if you’d really be stupid enough to do it.” 

“Or maybe,” Fintan smirked out of the corner of his mouth, “you didn’t tell them anything at all.” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Marella said, lying out of her teeth. Praying that Fintan wasn’t sensing her weakness and ready to pounce. 

No such luck. 

“Please, if the Council suspected me of wrongdoing they would be here without a second thought. They’ve never tolerated distinction well. Perfect extensions of the Gods,” Fintan spat. 

Marella resisted the urge to correct Fintan, to explain that being extensions of the Gods what was made the Councilors crucial. Without that connection, there would be no order – no way of knowing the will of the Olympians and how to obey. The Council was as close to Olympus as most of them would get. 

Unless you were Fintan, constantly spitting at the sky. 

“So what if I didn’t tell the Council – which I never said I didn’t. That doesn’t mean I suddenly think your plan isn’t crazy.” 

The wind picked up, pulling at the fabric wrapped around Marella’s shoulders. She tucked her arms against her chest to ward off the chill and to keep her himation in place. Fintan ignored how his robes pulled and lunged. The links of his chain rattled.

“But it does mean that you can feel it – the pull of the flame.” 

“Of course I can.” Marella ignored the sudden stickiness in her throat. “I’m blessed with it. That’s why I’m here.” 

“Yes, you are blessed ,” Fintan emphasized. “Despite saying it like you’re cursed. That blessing makes you lucky enough to feel Everblaze’s pull – to crave it. You parade around like you’re better for being in the God's pocket, but we’re the same. We will always be the same.” 

Marella could hardly breathe at the thought. “We will never be the same.” 

But Fintan was already lost to his mind. “Everblaze is the great equalizer. It will raze the pedestal of the Gods, the Councilors, and anyone who wishes to tear down greatness.” His eyes cut back to her. “Don’t you want that? Don’t tell me you enjoy living like this. Smothered from your spark. Hiding yourself from your friends. Making nice with Councillors who would rather see you exiled than succeed.” 

The words hit truer than Marella wanted to admit. 

“Maybe,” she admitted, “but I’d rather do all of that than hurt people.” 

“Pathetic,” a voice spat behind her. 

Brant’s scarring shined in the afternoon light. His twisted features were almost beyond recognition with how hard he was scowling. The remains of his hair flapped in the wind, casting odd, dancing shadows across his face. 

“Brant,” Fintan warned. 

“No. She would rather make herself into a pet –” 

“ Hey! ”

“Than have a sliver of backbone. You think you’re better than us? That you’re somehow different despite being gifted the same blessing for the same purpose?” Brant laughed. Spittle flew in Marella’s face. “We are the same . We are the destroyers. We have been anointed by Hephaestus himself to burn it to the ground. ”

The wind stung her cheeks, lashing against the cold, wet trails that dripped down her face. 

Brant turned back to the hut. “Get off your high horse now, Marella. You’re one of us. Or sooner or later you’re gonna get pushed off it.” 

That night, huddled in bed, Marella let the warmth lick her fingers. 

It tickled. Warm wisps that hugged her skin and kissed her nails. The burn tingled through her arm, pins and needles as if her arm was waking up, until pure bliss at her hands. 

It was hard to look at when she was first blessed. The dissonance didn’t go away; lessons learned as a child were the hardest to leave behind, and fire was such a primitive fear. A part of Marella’s brain would always startle at the sight of fire climbing up her body, no matter how many years she’d craved it. 

And boy, did she crave it now. A soft blanket to shield her from the horrible day. 

The heat caressed her face. Marella closed her eyes, still seeing the outline of the light behind her lids. 

She’d always have this, at least. 

For better or for worse. 

Everglen was breathtaking in the firelight. Large pits were lit aflame around the property, illuminating the guests and fighting with the setting sun. Long tables with grapes, olives, bread, and dates sat on the patio. Barrels of wine were scattered across the grass, with guests dunking their cups and laughing in delight. Vines hung off of the courtyard roof; their flowers sweetened the air. The party was in full swing when Marella and her parents arrived. 

The Vackers normally held this party the night before the Solstice, per tradition. But this year they had been invited to the Solstice celebration in Athens, a prestigious honor that Biana had been chattering about for weeks according to Maruca. Walking through Everglen’s lawn, Marella had already heard the whispers about whether a Vacker would rejoin the Council after they returned. Not that there were any spots on the Council available. Or that the Gods seemed inclined for another change after Councilor Alina’s appointment. 

Marella stayed clear of any of these stray pleasantries but kept one ear open for any good gossip. Lady Pemberly’s son had been blessed by Demeter this season. Foxfire was to add longer hours – yikes. Lord Cassius was angling to reclaim his position as Emissary. The dates were a little sour. 

Her friends stood clustered around one of the food tables. The tension was palpable. Half of the group stood at one corner of the table while the rest stood at the other edge. Biana and Maruca were the connecting points, shoulder to shoulder in the middle. As she approached, Marella could tell the conversation was going alright – just alright – by their hiked shoulders and outward slants. But their faces were open. That was good. 

Fitz didn’t seem to realize that though, with how nervous he looked repeatedly peaking over Biana’s shoulder to check her expression. Keefe elbowed him in the gut as he did it, which made Marella snort. They really were hopelessly awkward, the boys especially. 

Time to show these losers how it was done. 

“Why are you guys standing like Zeus came down and made someone a donkey?” 

Dex sputtered at her open-mouthed. Stina, Maruca, and Linh laughed. Fitz turned bright red. “We were not!” he protested. 

“Well not all of us. Admit it Fitzy, you always look like you’ve got a stick up your–” 

“Keefe!” Sophie interjected. 

Stina raised her eyebrows. “No, let him finish.” 

“ Thank you. At least someone appreciates my genius.” Sophie rolled her eyes. 

“Hey, you have to hand it to him,” Dex grinned. “He is pretty brilliant at making a fool of himself.” 

Keefe scowled as Dex and Fitz high-fived. Marella locked eyes with Linh and barely suppressed a grin. When they weren’t being absolute idiots, the boys could be entertaining. Of course, Marella preferred Wylie’s dry wit, but Keefe, Fitz, and Dex’s more outlandish humor wasn’t so bad. 

Once, Linh had tried to suggest Tam behave as they did. She only managed a quarter of the words to explain it with how hard she was laughing; tears streamed down her face and she went redder than a tomato. Tam did not share her enthusiasm. Now that Marella remembered it, that was the week Tam had cursed every shadow Linh crossed to untie her sandals. It was the slowest walk around the market Marella had ever taken. 

Linh’s eyes weren’t only filled with laughter at this exchange. The daggers she was shooting between Marella and Sophie spoke volumes. 

Ugh, Fine. Meddler. She was so setting Linh’s room on fire as revenge for this. 

“Hey,” she said to Sophie, who turned her big brown eyes on Marella in surprise. 

“Hey.” 

“Have you been here long?” Marella asked, grasping at straws. 

“Uh, yeah,” Sophie said. Clearly, they were no masters at small talk. “We came over early to help the Vackers set up.” 

Nice of them to invite everyone else. 

No, stop. No negative, grudge-y thoughts. New foot forward. 

“That’s cool. I would’ve gotten here earlier but my parents were taking forever to get ready.” It was kind of true. Marella would have likely taken the same amount of time to get ready as her mom if her mom hadn’t had a nervous breakdown over her hairbrush having leftover hairs in it. It wasn’t even a bad fit. Mostly sniping and complaining, close enough to how Marella imagined an even-tempered mother would act that she barely acknowledged it. 

“Oh,” Sophie feigned interest. She let the word hang there awkwardly as Marella fished for something to fill the space with. 

Annnnnd her brain was blank. 

“You’re still taking lessons with Fintan, right?”

Marella tried not to be annoyed that Sophie went with the most obvious topic of conversation. It was what everyone asked. 

She glanced over at Stina and Linh, talking with Wylie and Tam. Why couldn’t she be in that conversation? 

“Yup.” 

“How is it?”
“It’s…” What word even described the madness that was dealing with Fintan and Brant? “Alright.” Sophie nodded like Marella had said something remotely interesting. 

What else could they talk about? The weather? The Solstice? Maybe she should ask if Sophie planned on going to Athens with the Vackers. Was that too presumptuous? 

“I’m sorry I’m so bad at this,” Sophie said before Marella could decide. 

Huh? 

“I’m not very good at the small talk thing.” Sophie’s shoulders slumped. “Sorry.” 

Marella sighed and waved her off. “No, don’t apologize. It’s me too. Normally, I’m better at this, but something about being here at such a big party…” It was an excuse. An obvious one, too. But Sophie let her have it. 

“I get it. Everything was so overwhelming when I moved here I could barely talk to anyone.” 

“I remember that.” Sophie had been so quiet. So unlike the bold, opinionated person she became. Sometimes it was hard to see the girl Marella befriended so long ago in who Sophie was now. Standing in Everglen in the orange light, Marella could make out the remnants of her. “It was crazy. Everyone kept talking about the girl with the crazy strong blessings and how powerful she was, and then when I did finally meet you, you were–” 

“A loser?” 

“No.” Marella shook her head. “I was gonna say shy. But if you want to claim to be a loser, go ahead.” 

Sophie laughed and Marella could finally feel the tension go out of her stomach. 

The rest of the party was easier after that. She migrated over to Linh and Stina, leaving Maruca to continue talking to Biana uninterrupted. Marella did give Maruca a strong look when Biana was fixing her dress, which Maruca returned with annoyance. 

The group inched closer and closer together. Conversations shuffled, with Marella finding herself chatting with Fitz and Wylie. The fires nearby boosted her mood, lighting up the spark within her. It was easy to let the stresses of the last week go. Forget about Fintan’s demands and Brant's intensity and enjoy herself. 

Until she heard a shout across the grass. 

“No! I will not be treated like some kind of child!” 

Marella knew that voice, and she was intimately familiar with what it meant when it said that phrase. 

Her mom was already slamming her hand on a table when Marella got there. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were pinched. Marella’s dad’s mouth was tight, a sure sign that he did not want to be doing this in front of an audience. 

“Caprise, please–” 

“Oh, don’t please me! I’m not a child! Leave me alone. I don’t want to see your face,” she spat. “Go on! I don’t need to be handled by someone uglier than Hephaestus.” 

“ Caprise! ” 

Her dad knew he wasn’t supposed to shout. Shouting back always made it worse. Marella needed to step in – defuse the situation before it got any worse. But she couldn’t move. The stares of the other guests had turned her to stone. 

Her mom threw the glass she was holding. “Maybe that’s why your daughter is cursed! Cursed by Hephaestus both of you! CURSED TO RUIN MY LIFE!” 

She couldn’t breathe. 

Her skin tingled. 

Her cheeks felt hot. 

The spark in her chest bloomed. 

The light around her was so bright Marella could hardly see her mom’s twisted face. 

“Mom?” 

Her mom turned to look at her. She looked like a blob. Marella blinked to clear her vision. 

“Oh, honey,” Marella’s mom crooned, face crumbling. “Oh, baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it!” 

Fat tears rained into Marella’s hair. Her mom clung to her, squeezing any speech out of her lungs. It was easy to stand there and be held; there was nothing left in Marella to deal with this, just a jagged void where her mother’s words had scooped her insides clean. 

In some abstract way, she knew that her dad was still talking, trying to free her from her mother’s grasp. But it was all happening to someone else. That girl was crying in the middle of the biggest party of the year as her family publicly imploded. That girl nodded and went to get water when her dad asked in a stern voice that begged please, I’m barely holding it together as is, don’t give me a hard time too, I know it’s unfair. It didn’t matter that that girl’s hands shook or that the crowd scattered away from her like ants, afraid of being burned by the fires that rose and fell with her shaky breaths, illuminating Everglen like daylight. 

It didn’t—

It— 

It didn’t matter. 

She just had to pull through. Put on a brave face and walk through the fire. 

By Zeus, the coals burned. 

Marella came back to herself on a bench. 

Wood scraped against her palms. Running her hands across it was soothing. 

Not as soothing as letting the burn in her fingers light it ablaze and relish in the sizzle, crack, pop of the planks, but a girl couldn’t have everything. 

Not even one who destroyed everything she touched. 

“Uh, are you okay?” 

It was surprisingly easy to ignore Keefe. He didn’t put up much of a fuss when she’d sat down next to him, holding herself together by the threads. Just swung his feet off the length to give her space to collapse. 

“I’m getting a lot of general angst,” he continued. “Disgust, sadness, rage. All the good stuff.” 

Keefe was incredibly blessed by Aphrodite. Rumor said that he could go beyond the casual emotion readings to change people’s emotions. Warp them into whatever he wanted. Marella had never seen him do it or give a hint that it was possible. They weren’t close enough. 

Maybe if she asked him nicely enough he would prove the rumors true. Make her feel less like a wreck. 

Mostly, she wished he’d leave. “Don’t you have to go stalk Sophie or something?” 

“Nope. Sophie’s a big girl. She has Fitz to trail after her. Plus, I’m not a huge fan of conflict.”

That was shocking for a kid who was addicted to sticking his nose wherever it stunk the most. “So you didn’t enjoy the show with everyone else?” 

Keefe shrugged. “If I wanted to watch people fight, I’d just go home.”  

“You’re parents fight like that? ” 

“Ohhhh yeah. You wouldn’t believe how many dishes they’ve gone through. Our house is where plates go to die.” 

Marella couldn’t help but snort even as she mused, “Huh. I always thought that was, like, a brain-damage-only kind of thing.” 

“Nah,” Keefe drawled. “You’re not special.” 

Marella turned to face him. One look at his deadpan expression had her cracking up. He broke two seconds later. 

“Ugh,” she groaned. “Going back out there is gonna suck. I’m pretty sure I burned a couple of those fancy barrels.” 

“Eh, it’ll be fine.” Keefe waved it off, flicking his hand where it lay draped at the top of the bench. “The Vackers have a million of them.” 

“Still.” Marella tugged on one of her braids. “Not a good look.” 

“Who cares?” Keefe tsked. 

“Easy for you to say.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Marella said. “You’re not being watched every second of every day – everyone waiting for you to mess up. And if you drop the ball once, that’s the rest of your life. Over before you get the chance to do anything with it. Banished to live out the rest of your days as a shell of yourself, raving at the birds. Not that that’s so different from how you normally live, because while everyone else gets to laugh and–and breathe you have to watch every, single, tiny move you make because Fates forbid you make even one mistake. Which, let’s face it, is what everyone wants anyway. Just an excuse to get rid of the future criminal . ” 

Ash slid beneath her fingertips. 

“Wow. You been holding all that in?” 

“Yeah.” 

“You’re taking lessons from Fintan?” 

Marella threw her head back. “Yes! Gods, why does everyone keep asking me about that!” 

“Sorry,” Keefe said. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just–He can be a lot. Always going on about how the world is turned against those with a fire blessing and how there’s no future with the Council. It can be hard not to let that get into your head.” At Marella’s incredulous stare, Keefe startled and blushed. “He used to mentor me.” 

Seriously? 

There was no way. 

It didn’t make sense. 

Keefe?

She tried to imagine him hanging with Brant and Fintan at the shack. The image was so wrong she could hardly think about it for more than five seconds. 

“I know,” Keefe laughed, reacting to whatever emotions were drifting through the air. “My mom set it up. One of her crazier ideas, which is saying something.” 

Oh. 

Marella knew of Keefe’s mom. It was almost impossible not to. She was one of the only criminals, like Fintan, who had been punished by the Gods directly. 

“What did you guys even talk about?” She asked. Better to stay on safer topics than mothers. 

“Oh, you know. A lot about fire, a lot about the Gods. More than I ever wanted to hear about Bronte.” 

That sounded like Fintan. “So he didn’t teach you anything?” 

Keefe tilted his head in thought. “Not exactly. He used to talk a lot about the wildness of fire. It’s intensity, it’s unpredictability.” 

“Heard that,” Marella snorted. 

Keefe nodded his head her way. “Yeah. It can be a lot like emotions. He taught me a lot about how to control that – to harness it. Fintan used to say that fire was the means of life. It was through fire that emotions were born. All I had to do was learn how to tame the flames.” 

Marella had never heard that before. Mostly, her takeaways had always been that fire was destruction, a ravager of anything it touched. 

Looking back, though, maybe that had only been Brant's words. The ruins of a flame snuffed out. 

Fire wasn’t its damage. 

“I’d never thought about it that way.” 

“Well,” Keefe shrugged. “Fintan’s not the most direct guy. I honestly think he gets a kick out of making a conversation as vague as possible.” 

“Yeah,” Marella agreed. She could feel the flames calling to her. “Thanks, though.” 

Keefe gave her a questioning look. “No problem?” 

She was already gone. 

Fintan was burning his garden when she arrived. 

“What’re you doing?” 

Fintan cupped a flower. The grass surrounding it was smoking. “Controlled fire is good for the plants. The ash and charcoal contain nutrients that help them grow back stronger.” 

The ground was charred and sparse. “You aren’t hurting them?”

“I am. Some pain is necessary.” 

Marella scrunched her nose. Took a big breath. Her fingertips tingled.

Her skin felt alive.  

“I know what I want to do,” she said. “About the Solstice. About Everblaze.” 

Fintan turned to her and smiled. “Then let’s go inside. Good plans don’t come under open skies.” 

Behind them, thunder rolled.