Free Rising Fire by Terri Brisbin Page A

edge. Pulling on the laces that held her cloak around her, she dropped it before kneeling beside the water. As she dipped her hands into the water, steam rose from the surface. Releasing her power, she watched as her hands turned red and then orange and then like gold when the metal was heated over the fire. With an unpracticed motion, she extended her arms, lifting her hands out of the water and cupping her palms together. And then she created fire in them.
    Fire!
    She had created fire.
    Laughing, she stood and forced the fire higher and wider, spreading her hands apart and spreading the flames into the air and around her. Urging it on, Brienne strengthened it with whispered words she did not understand. Glancing around, she closed her eyes as the flames caressed her, never burning her as they became one.
    She could do it!
    She could bring fire into being and be one with it.
    She swirled around inside the cocoon it formed, the flames moving around her as ribbons on a pole, outlining her body, moving her hair on its currents, making her feel their power and hers. Touching and caressing her almost as a lover would. And yet never did she feel in danger of being burned.
    All it took to end it was the sound of a branch breaking behind her. Brienne stopped the flames with a thought and they were gone. She spun around and watched as William entered the clearing.
    Had he seen her? Had he witnessed what she could do? From his level gaze, she could tell nothing. But she could feel that the fire wanted him, too. She could feel its need to surround and engulf him as it had her.
    â€œI would speak with you, Brienne. About what happened,” he said, striding toward her. He stopped only a pace from where she stood. “Meet me here on the morrow.”
    â€™Twas a bad thing, to be torn between wanting to meet him and knowing that there was such danger in doing so. The woman within her ached to explore the world he’d just opened to her. The passion and intimacy of the kiss they’d shared still echoed through her even while the daughter of the villager knew that it would lead to heartbreak and ruin. Yet the firemaker within also wondered how he was involved in her power, for she knew it for the certainty it was.
    â€œI should not.”
    â€œNay, you most likely should not. But,” he said, glancing at the water that she’d turned to steam, “I think you will.” His face gave away nothing to tell her what he’d seen. Or if he had. Since she did not wantGavin to know of their encounters nor of her expanding power, she would concede.
    â€œOn the morrow?” He nodded. “I will come after my father breaks his fast, but I cannot remain long.” The corner of his lip curled as though attempting a smile. She remembered the feel of his mouth on hers. That other heat filled her, and she felt a blush creep up into her cheeks.
    â€œUntil then,” he said.
    Brienne nodded and he left, not as quickly as the last time. She listened as his footsteps moved farther and farther through the trees and brush until only the silence surrounded her.
    With questions filling her thoughts about what he could have seen and what had been between them, she made her way back to the village and to her parents’ cottage. ’Twas times like this when she wanted—nay, craved—someone with whom she could talk about these things. None of the village girls would friend her because they feared her true father’s attentions. Even the mother who’d raised her seemed to fear her at times as Brienne had approached womanhood. And Gavin knew about her power and yet he did not welcome talking.
    So in the dark of the night as she sought sleep that would not come, Brienne wondered if the warrior had seen her bring fire into existence.
    On the morrow, he’d said.
    On the morrow, he’d tempted.
    On the morrow, he’d promised.
    On the morrow . . . she feared.

Chapter 6
    Loanhead of Daviot,