Sucking in my cheek, I gazed across the ravine. I didn’t know what I believed. I moved a little closer to the rocks that outline the edge of the cliffs. Peeking over the side, I couldn’t see the bottom through the layer of mist that sat around five to six hundred feet below. God or demon, that didn’t look like a very pleasant place to live.

“Boy!” A middle-aged man started waving his arms at me. “Get away from there!”

Running off toward the northern path, I kept my head down and hoped he didn’t see my face. He’d probably tell the governor on me for being in the way if he recognized me. I cut off the path and started climbing the mountainside. I worked my way along to a different outcropping I already knew grew certain plants. I scoured the forest for a few others before returning to the cliffs. That last one on my list was a little hard, simply because I had to climb down a sheer incline to get it.

I made sure my pack was done up before lowering myself over the edge and carefully making my way down to the small ledge. This wasn’t my first time doing it, so I knew where all the holds were already. It still made my heart pound, as a misstep would send me falling a good thirty feet.

My feet hit solid ground and I picked three of the purple flowers from the wispy bush. With the last item tucked away in my bag, I sat on the ledge to let my arms rest and watched the mining carts roll along below. I was really glad I didn’t have to do that. That was where they’d shipped Reese off to when he turned fourteen. He hadn’t been at the home very long before they put him to work after his parents were killed by a shapeshifter.

I laid my head against a rock and pushed small stones over the edge. No one had ever mentioned how my parents died. All they said is the governor handed me over to the Haywoods as an infant. Probably the fault of a shapeshifter, like the majority of people who were killed in the village.

Standing, I stretched my arms above my head and debated whether I should go back. The old man would probably give me another list, or I’d have to go home, which meant more chores. I didn’t want to be stuck with either. It wasn’t like Hobbs had given me a time limit. For all he knew, I might not know where half of these things were located, and it could possibly take me all day to find them.

Grabbing onto a handhold, I started the climb back to the top. I pulled myself onto the ledge and dragged my body the rest of the way up. Voices from the village could still be heard, and I had an itch in my pocket that I really wanted to try out. Rising to my feet, I dusted myself off and slipped my hand into my pocket. As long as I didn’t hurt anything, it should be fine. I jogged off into the forest that surrounded the town and made sure I was far enough away that no one would notice the smoke. I couldn’t risk someone seeing me, or the governor snooping around to see what I was up to. Finding a secluded area, I sat down and took the flint and steel I had borrowed from the house from my pocket. I rolled them around in my palm. Maybe the stranger was right. I shouldn’t play with fire. I’d get in so much trouble if someone caught me.

But the thought of feeling the heat on my skin was making my hands shake with anticipation. The stranger had played with fire. He didn’t really have a right to tell me not to. Grabbing all the sticks around me and pulling up some dead grass, I created a little pile in a patch of dirt I had cleared. I stuck the flint and steel together and showered the kindling with sparks. Leaning down, I started to blow. It took me awhile, but I soon had smoke. I kept blowing and watched a small flame appear.

I nurtured that small spark until it engulfed the whole pile. I added more sticks and had to restrain myself from making it any bigger. A little smoke would go unnoticed. A bonfire would have the whole town tracking me down.

Sitting back on my heels, I watched it. It danced and flickered, calling to me. I held out my hand but was hesitant to continue. The black flame hadn’t hurt me, but I didn’t know if this would be the same.

I slowly stretched my hand forward. The fire warmed my skin without any sign of pain. Scooting a little closer, I placed a finger into the orange flames. It flickered around it and my skin remained unharmed. Retracting my hand, I examined it, but the blisters that usually came with burns didn’t form. Mrs. Haywood always had one appear when she burnt herself cooking. Honestly, I couldn’t even remember what it was like to get burned. I had just been told to be careful not to get close to anything hot.

I studied the blaring red embers at the bottom. I wanted to hold them in my palm and feel their warmth. Slipping my hand through the wood, I grabbed them. My head fell back, and I closed my eyes. The ever-present coldness in my chest melted away.

This was heaven.