Free Foresworn by Rinda Elliott

forehead. “We could see the fire from my house. The ash is everywhere.” He pointed. “It looks just like the snow.”
    He was right. The ash floated around us, blending with the snow. I caught some on my palm, rubbed it between my fingers. The ash part left color, but the snow part washed it off.
    “Kat, this is Branton. He’s our neighbor.”
    “And best friend since preschool.” He winced, tilted his head and tugged at his ear.
    “More like since you could both crawl,” Arun’s mother said. She hugged Branton close. “Is Carol here?”
    Branton nodded and pointed toward the firemen. “A big group of men, some of them possibly single? Yeah, Mom nearly beat me here.” He tugged on his ear again, shook his head. “And watch. She’ll go for the one who is uglier than a mud fence.”
    Alva made a beeline for the pretty brunette smiling and flirting with a couple of firemen. The woman promptly grabbed her and hugged her in a fierce clutch. Alva burst into tears.
    “Best friends, too,” Branton said. “Damn, Arun, I’m really sorry this happened.” He turned and stared at the skeletal greenhouse remains. “The barn, too?”
    “It looks like that went up first.”
    The truth of what was happening was hitting Arun. His disbelief or shock or whatever it had been that kept him from really clueing in to what had happened wore away, and the utter wreckage on his face made me take a step closer to him.
    “Damn,” Branton breathed. “All those supplies. The backpacks with the tents.”
    The firemen had arcs of water flowing onto several buildings now. I shivered, noting that the temperature had started to drop.
    Wind whooshed down into the valley and whipped my hair around my head. Suddenly I remembered the blankets in my car. “I have stuff to help keep some people warm. In my Jeep.” I realized I couldn’t see it. I’d parked it near that barn. “If it’s still there.”
    “Let’s go see.” Arun took my hand, frowned. “You’re freezing.” He lifted my hand, held it between his and blew between them. His hot breath flowing over my skin made me shiver harder...and not because of the cold.
    What a sweet thing to do.
    A sweet thing that twisted me all up inside.
    I frowned at him.
    He actually chuckled and blew on my hand again.
    My mouth twitched. I shouldn’t be frowning at him no matter how weird and confused he made me feel. The boy had just lost everything.
    He didn’t let go of my hand as we walked to my Jeep. I breathed a huge sigh of relief when I saw the fire hadn’t reached it. Branton followed and helped us pass out blankets. Then Arun walked us to the row of vehicles. “We had years of backpacks in that barn. Every one of them had a one—or two-man tent, a sleeping bag, food, water and first aid. We’ve been preparing the packs as long as we’ve been growing food. Buying a little each year.” He opened the back door of a Jeep similar to mine. “But we also keep two packs inside each vehicle, so a few survived.”
    “Why did your family do all this?” I asked. “How did you know all this would happen?”
    “Both my mom and uncle started having dreams after I was born. They didn’t know for sure it was real until I healed the plant. So, they did what they thought would help the most. We’ll have to go into town tomorrow and see what we can replenish.”
    “Why the hurry?” Branton asked. “You don’t think there will be enough to do around here?”
    Arun frowned at his friend. “Kara said the music got louder. We’ve run out of time.”
    I watched Branton, surprised. I’d seen him pulling on his ear earlier and had thought he was one of the kids with a god’s soul who could hear the music. Apparently not, because he was asking what that meant when Alva came running up to us and pulled her son aside.
    “So, your name is Cat? Like the animal?” Branton stepped closer to me.
    “No, it’s with a
K
.”
    “Are you like them?” He pointed toward the group of kids