FIRE AND ICE

THE ECLIPSE

Day Three, we learned that balancing for seven days is impossible when you have chemistry exams and a boy who snores fire.

I woke up because my bed was warm. Not normal warm. Fire warm.

Kael had rolled off his floor mattress in his sleep and his hand was on my bed leg, and his sleeping fire had burned a black handprint into my white bedsheet.

"MOM!" I whisper-yelled. "He burned my bed!"

Kael woke up with a snort, saw his hand, and jumped back so fast he set the curtains on fire. Small fire, but still.

My ice shot out, froze the curtains solid. Now they were stiff like cardboard.

Grandmother walked in with tea, looked at the bed, the curtains, us holding hands automatically because we were scared, and said, "Day Three is always worst. Your powers are testing you."

"My powers have exams!" I said. I had online chemistry exam at 10 AM. Atlantic Hall sent link. If I miss, I repeat year.

Kael looked at the frozen curtains. "Sorry. When I dream about the Hollow, fire comes."

"What did you dream?" I asked, forgetting to be mad, because his voice was small.

"That you left," he said. "That you got tired of seven days and left and I was back in cage alone."

My ice melted, just like that. From angry to soft.

"I'm not leaving," I said, and we did pinky touch, and soft steam dried the curtains a little.

Mom came in with my laptop. "Exam in one hour. Kael, you will sit in corner and be quiet. And no fire."

"I can try," Kael said.

He tried. For 45 minutes of my two-hour chemistry exam, he sat in corner doing maths worksheet Grandmother gave him — she found old JAMB past questions — and he was actually good. He finished 2019 paper in 20 minutes, all correct.

Then question 12: _Explain exothermic reaction with example._

I stared. I knew this. Fire gives out heat. Like Kael.

I looked at him. He was watching me, amber eyes worried, fire flickering small on his fingertips because he was anxious for me.

And I typed: _Exothermic reaction is when energy is released as heat. Example: When Fire meets Ice and makes Steam, heat is released to keep balance. Like combustion of fuel. Or like Kael when he is protective._

My teacher will think I'm crazy. But it was true.

I submitted. Grandmother, who was watching over my shoulder, whispered, "Good answer."

At 12 PM, Elias made us do eclipse lesson in the library. All of us — me, Kael, his parents, Mom, Grandmother, Amaka who insisted on bringing puff-puff.

He put black paper on window, poked hole.

"October 3rd, 2 PM, sun will be 90% covered over Lagos," he said. "For normal people, pretty. For Veils, dangerous. Veils are thin places. Eclipse makes them thinner. Like curtain."

He showed us picture from 1998 eclipse, when Grandmother tried to close main Veil.

"Last time, we had only Ice. We froze it during eclipse. It looked closed. But frozen Veil during eclipse cracks inside. That's how Joren left his handprints. True closing needs Steam DURING eclipse. Not before, not after. During."

"So we have to make Steam at 2 PM on October 3rd, right in front of handprint?" Kael asked.

"Yes. Big Steam. Biggest you ever made. True Steam, not soft."

My heart beat fast. Big Steam only happened when we were really emotional — when we saved his parents, when we were scared in Hollow. How to make big Steam on purpose, during boring seven days?

Grandmother looked at our joined hands.

"You will need to feel," she said simply. "Not think. Feel."

Mom made a noise. "Lillian, they are 17."

"Feel balanced!" Grandmother corrected quickly, but she smiled small. "Not... that other feel. Yet."

Kael choked on puff-puff. I froze my puff-puff solid and hid my face.

Day Three afternoon, the third test, but good test.

Kael's parents were strong enough to go outside to small garden for first time. We all went, because rule: we stay within 10 feet, but garden is within.

For first time in 12 years, Adunni — Kael's mom — touched grass. She cried. Femi — his dad — touched mango tree and laughed, real laugh, and picked small unripe mango and gave to Kael.

"Your favorite. You used to climb to get it. You fell once. Remember?"

Kael didn't remember. He was six then. But he ate sour mango and made face, and we all laughed, and my ice made small snow on mango tree, and his fire warmed it, and steam rose in garden, sweet mango steam.

Amaka took picture with her phone. First family picture with Kael's real parents and my family mixed.

Behind us, in house, behind painting, handprint went completely cool for first time. Elias checked and shouted, "It is COLD! It is actually cold!"

Because happy makes it coldest. Not boring. Happy.

Grandmother hugged me from behind. "See? You are closing it with joy. That's stronger than ice."

Day Three night, 11:59 PM, almost Day Four, we had first almost-kiss.

We were back in guest room, doors open, lights off, generator humming because NEPA still off.

Kael was on floor mattress, I was on bed, but closer tonight. Mattresses almost touching.

"Your chemistry exam," he whispered. "What did you write for exothermic?"

"I wrote about you."

Silence. Fire flicker from his hand, soft, lighting his face from below. He looked older, not 17, like someone who survived Hollow.

"What did you write exactly?" he asked, voice low.

I sat up, ice making little light on my side. "That you give out heat when you care. That's exothermic. You warm people."

He sat up too. Now we were face to face, kneeling, mattresses touching, hands almost touching.

"Ava," he said, "when we make Steam during eclipse, if we... feel too much, will we burn?"

Elias said big Steam could burn us if not balanced. True Steam is powerful.

"We won't," I said, because I believed it. "We balanced in Hollow. We can balance in eclipse."

He leaned a little closer. I leaned a little closer. Our fire and ice, without touching, made steam between our faces, warm, smelling like rain.

"Pinky promise we won't burn?" he whispered.

"Pinky promise," I whispered.

We touched pinkies, but our faces were one inch apart. Steam fogged my glasses.

Then from downstairs, Grandmother yelled, "IF YOU KISS BEFORE ECLIPSE, STEAM BREAKS AND WE ALL DIE! GOODNIGHT!"

We jumped apart. I fell back on bed, Kael fell on floor, both of us laughing so hard we couldn't breathe, ice and fire bursting everywhere, making house full of steam like sauna.

Mom yelled, "WHAT IS HAPPENING UP THERE?!"

"NOTHING!" we yelled together.

Downstairs, handprint was cold. Ice cold. For first time since it appeared.

Because love — even almost love — makes it coldest of all.

Three days done.

Four to go.

Two days to eclipse.