Fire Study

by Maria V. Snyder

  “These new Daviian Clan members. They have taken over. At first it was just a couple of them, but now the streets are filled. Ugly rumors about their involvement with the Sandseed genocide has everyone frightened. People living in the Citadel have been questioned, and certain beggars have disappeared. Whispers about how the Council members have lost control have spread, yet they are preparing for a war.”

  Fisk shook his head. He had wisdom beyond his years. I mourned the loss of his childhood. Being a child of beggars had robbed him of fun, wonder and the ability to make mistakes without fatal consequences.

  “How about the Keep?” I asked.

  “Locked down. No one enters or leaves except under the Daviians’ armed escort.”

  The state of affairs was worse than I had anticipated. “I need you to get a message to one of the Councilors for me.”

  “Which one?”

  “My kinsman, Bavol Zaltana. But I don’t want you to write anything down. It must be a verbal message. Can you do it?”

  Fisk frowned, considering. “It will be difficult. The Councilors all have an escort while out in the Citadel, but perhaps I could set up a distraction…” He rubbed his hands along his arms as he contemplated the task. “I can try. No promises. If it gets too hot, I’m out of there. And it’s—”

  “Going to cost me. And you must not repeat the message to anyone.”

  “Agreed.”

  We shook hands on the deal. I told Fisk my message. He left to recruit a couple helpers. I returned to the market to purchase a few items and to eat, killing time without appearing to be.

  My gaze kept returning to the Keep’s towers. Located within the Citadel’s marble walls, the Magician’s Keep occupied the northeastern section. Unable to suppress my desire to see the pink-pillared entrance gates, my path led to the Keep.

  Instead of appearing warm and inviting, the cold stone seemed impenetrable and daunting. I longed to make contact with my friends and colleagues inside. Where were Dax and Gelsi? Had they been allowed to continue their studies? I felt blind and cut off, frustrated and lost. As if I had been exiled and would never see them again.

  Daviian guards stood next to the Keep’s guards. Feeling too exposed, I returned to Fisk’s meeting room to await the boy’s return. Time crept along in mind-numbing increments. A small tan spider built its elaborate web in the corner of the room. To help the spider, I hunted for an insect to place on the sticky strands.

  Fisk arrived as I stood on a chair, attempting to nab a moth. He puffed out his chest and declared the mission a success. “Councilor Zaltana said he would meet with you tonight in his home.” Fisk deflated a bit with his next remark. “He warned his residence is guarded by a Warper. What’s a Warper?”

  “A Daviian magician.” I considered the complication. “What time?”

  “Anytime, but if you’re out on the streets after midnight, the guards will arrest you. I would suggest after the evening meal. There is usually a flurry of activity as the shops close and everyone heads home.” Fisk sighed. “It used to be a good time to beg. People would feel guilty passing by a child without a home when they had a warm comfortable bed waiting for them.”

  “Used to be, Fisk. That’s in the past. I bet you have a nice home, now.”

  His posture straightened. “The best! Which reminds me. You had better leave before my helpers come back. We meet in the morning and again in the late afternoon.”

  I paid Fisk, thanking him for the help. “If you ever get caught, don’t hesitate to tell them about me. I don’t want you to be hurt because of me.”

  Fisk gave me a confused frown. “But you could be taken and killed by the Daviians.”

  “Better me than you.”

  “No. Things are bad and getting worse. If you’re killed, I have a horrible feeling life wouldn’t be worth living.”

  Fisk’s dire comments followed me as I traveled through the Citadel. Keeping to the back alleys, I hid behind buildings until the streets filled with residents hurrying home, just as Fisk had predicted. I joined the flow, blending in as the sky grew dark and the lamplighters began their evening chore. When I passed Bavol’s dwelling, I slowed long enough to determine his house was empty.

  I made another loop around the street to make sure, then slipped behind the building. Using my picks, I unlocked the back door and startled a woman.

  “Oh my!” She dropped a rake. It clattered on the edge of the stone heath, and the fire she had been stirring to life dimmed.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you,” I said, thinking fast. “I have an urgent appointment with Councilman Zaltana.”

  “I don’t remember him telling me about a guest. And certainly no guest would come creeping in the back door!” She swept up the iron rake and hefted it in her big hands. She wore a type of loose tunic the Zaltanas preferred, but it was hard to see in the semidarkness.

  I chanced it. “We just set the meeting today. It’s regarding clan business.”

  “Oh my.” She bent and raked at the coals. When a flame ignited, she used it to light a lantern. She peered at me through the glow. “Goodness, child. Come in then. Shut the door. This is all highly unusual, but I don’t know why I’m surprised. These are unusual times.”

  The woman bustled and fussed about the kitchen, claiming the Councilman would soon be home and would want his supper. I helped her by lighting the lanterns in the dining room and living room. Bavol’s home was decorated with jungle art and valmur statues. A pang of homesickness struck me.

  When I heard someone at the front door, I hid in the kitchen.

  “His guard dog doesn’t come in the house,” the woman said. “The Councilman won’t allow it. The day that dog is allowed in will be the end of the Sitian Council.”

  But would the Warper use his magic to scan the interior? Would I feel the power? I hovered by the back door just in case.

  The woman said, “Call me Petal, child,” and invited me to join them for supper. She shooed away any protests about my limited time. “Nonsense, child. Let me tell the Councilman you’re here.”

  “Ah, Petal,” I said, stopping her. “Perhaps it would be best if you just asked him to come in here? Dogs have very acute hearing.”

  She tapped a finger to her forehead and then pointed to me before leaving. Bavol came into the kitchen with Petal on his heels. He greeted me with a tired smile.

  “Smart to come before me,” he said in a soft voice. He rubbed at the dark smudges under his eyes. Worry lines etched his face and he stood as if he strained under a heavy weight. “If you’re discovered…” He sank down to perch on an edge of a stool. “You can’t stay long. If they hear or see anything out of the ordinary, the Warper will barge in and I will tell him everything.”

  His matter-of-fact statement about his response to the Warper sent a ripple of fear through my body. What were the Warpers doing to gain information and cooperation?

  “I’ll be quick then. Why did the Council allow the Daviians to come?”

  Alarm flashed on Bavol’s face and he clamped his hands together in his lap. “Petal, could you please get me a glass of whiskey?”

  She eyed him with annoyance. Even though she stirred her stew pot on the other side of the kitchen, she had been leaning toward us, trying to listen to our conversation.

  With a huff of indignation, Petal left the kitchen.

  Bavol closed his eyes for a moment and grimaced. But when he focused on me, his old confident self returned.

  “We should have let them die,” he said.

  26

  “LET WHO DIE?” I ASKED, but Bavol ignored me.

  “At first the Daviians required minor things from us to keep them alive. A vote one way or another. The requests became more frequent and alarming. Visitors grew in numbers and the next thing we knew we had agreed to everything.”

  “Keep who alive?”

  “We made a mistake, but you’re here now. Perhaps it’s not too late.”

  “Bavol, I don’t—”
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  “The Daviians have our children.”

  I stared at him for a moment in stunned silence. “How?”

  Bavol shrugged. “Does it matter how? Our families live with our clans most of the year. We’re not home to protect them.”

  “Who do they have?”

  “My daughter, Jenniqilla. She disappeared from the Illiais Market. I’ve been instructed not to tell anyone. But from the other Councilors’ faces I knew the Daviians had gotten to everyone. Eventually, we talked about it amongst ourselves. All the Councilors with children had one taken. For the others, the Daviians kidnapped Councilor Greenblade’s husband, and Councilor Stormdance’s wife.”

  “Where are they keeping them?”

  “If I knew I wouldn’t be here talking to you,” he snapped.

  “Sorry.” I considered the implications. Petal returned with two glasses of whiskey and handed one to me. She went back to stirring her pots.

  “When?” I asked, thinking about Valek’s comment that the Vermin had been planning this before Cahil had gotten involved.

  “Fourteen days ago,” Bavol whispered.

  I thought back. Fourteen days seemed like fourteen years when I sifted through everything that had happened. The Vermin had grabbed the Councilors’ families right after I fled the Citadel. It wasn’t Roze influencing the Council after all.

  “Do the Master Magicians know?”

  “Master Bloodgood and Master Jewelrose suspected when we wrote the letter to the Commander. Master Featherstone interpreted their refusal as an act of treason. And the Daviians forced us to agree with her and sign their arrest warrant and help incarcerate them in the Keep. They cooperated,” Bavol added when he saw my concern. “It’s a shame Master Cowan is still too young to exert much influence on Master Featherstone.”

  “Do you think Roze is working with the Daviians?”

  “No. She would be horrified to know they are making the decisions. We are voting with her, so she is content and the Daviians are offering her support in her campaign against the Commander.”

  “Couldn’t she learn of your dilemma from your thoughts?”

  Bavol’s gaze snapped to me. “That would be a serious breach of the Magician’s Ethical Code. Master Featherstone would never resort to invading our private thoughts.”

  I had a difficult time believing in Roze’s high moral standards, but I possessed no evidence to the contrary.

  “Should I set an extra place for dinner?” Petal asked.

  Bavol and I both shook our heads no. His anxious expression reminded me I needed to leave soon. She tsked and carried a stack of plates from the kitchen.

  Finding and rescuing the Council’s family members became a priority. There was one way I could discover where they were being held, but I would have to use magic.

  “Bavol, I may be able to find your daughter through you. But I can’t do it in the Citadel. Is there any chance you can leave?”

  “No. My guard is with me always.”

  “Could you slip out the back door?”

  “I have to make contact with my guard every hour. It is the only way he will give me any privacy.”

  “What about when you’re sleeping?”

  “He sits in the living room. Petal doesn’t know about it, since she retires so early and sleeps like a log. I haven’t been able to sleep since Jenniqilla’s capture. I’m up before the sun and can send him back outside.”

  “It will have to be during the night, then. I’ll make arrangements. Just don’t be surprised if you have company in your bedroom tomorrow evening. And leave the back window open.”

  “That’s Petal’s room,” he said.

  “Perhaps you can make sure she remains asleep?”

  He sighed. “I long for the simpler days. Never again will I complain about Councilor Sandseed’s stubbornness or Councilor Jewelrose’s petty problems.”

  “Dinner’s ready,” Petal called.

  “You should go,” he said.

  “Do you know any way I could get into the Keep?”

  “The emergency tunnel. But I don’t know if it has collapsed or been sealed up. The magicians dug it when they first constructed their Keep, during the clan wars long ago. I hadn’t known it existed until recently. Second Magician mentioned it to me a few days before they arrested him and Fourth Magician.”

  “Are Bain and Irys still being held in the Keep’s cells?”

  “As far as I know.”

  “Did Bain tell you where the tunnel is located?”

  “He said something about the east side of the Keep, and about how it was big enough for a horse.” Bavol stood. “We have lingered too long. I expect to hear from you again. Stay safe.” He went into the dining room.

  I waited a moment, then opened the back door. Peeking out, I scanned the dark alley. It appeared to be deserted, but without my magic, I couldn’t be sure. I risked it and left Bavol’s. The Citadel’s quiet streets alarmed me. Only a few people walked on the roads, and most of them were Vermin. Even the taverns remained dark and desolate.

  My chances of getting through the north gate undetected didn’t seem likely. I considered going to one of the inns, but the Vermin could have people there watching for strangers. The longer I stayed on the street increased the danger of being caught.

  In desperation, I found a house with an outside staircase reaching the ground of a narrow alley. Climbing up to the top of the steps without making too much noise, I stood on the handrail and reached for the edge of the roof. I discovered a problem with marble buildings as I tried to use the wall to push myself onto the roof. My foot slipped and I just managed to regain my balance and avoid plummeting four stories to the ground.

  In the end, I employed my acrobatic training and made a leap of faith onto the roof. Good thing these same marble walls were thick enough to mask the sound of my thud.

  I lay on the flat roof, gasping, glad Valek hadn’t been here to see my awkward ascent. His ability to scale the Commander’s castle walls was now more impressive. I wondered if he would be worried when I failed to come back. Perhaps it was for the best that I had stayed too long with Bavol. Multiple trips through the gate would arouse suspicion.

  The night air turned cold. I huddled in my cloak and slept. Dreams of fire haunted me. No matter where I ran to or where I hid, the flames always found me. Always.

  I woke sweat soaked in the morning light, achy and feverish. The prospect of climbing down from the roof unseen and finding Fisk was as appealing as taking a cold bath. At least descending proved easier than ascending the roof. I made it down the stairs and into the alley without incident. Although the thumping in my head failed to stop.

  Bleary-eyed and tired, I searched for Fisk at the market. Remembering his meeting room, I hid nearby and waited for him.

  The group of children who left the building caused me to smile. So intent on their day’s work, they moved with purpose and carried themselves with a businesslike air. After they disappeared from sight, Fisk appeared beside me.

  “Did something happen?” he asked.

  “Nothing bad. I have another job for you.” I told him what I needed and he thought he could help me. “I don’t want anyone to get into trouble, though.”

  “Don’t worry, you picked a good night.”

  “Why is it good?”

  “It’s Midseason’s Night. We celebrate the midpoint of the cold season. Gives everyone something to look forward to.” Fisk grinned. “Doesn’t Ixia have something similar?”

  “Yes. They hold an annual Ice Festival. People display their handcrafts and get together to exchange ideas. I just hadn’t realized we were this far into the season.”

  “The celebration’s bound to be quieter this year, but there should be enough activity to hide ours.” This time Fisk’s smile held a hint of mischievousness, reminding me of Janco.

  I’d bet Janco had been pure trouble as a kid. At least I hadn’t upset him and Ari before leaving Ixia. Then again, since I hadn’t brought them
along, they could be annoyed with me, too.

  We made plans for the evening and Fisk told me of a place where I could stay to wait for the night. After he left, I walked over to the Council Hall. I made a loop around it while trying not to appear as if I held any special interest in the square structure. The activity on the wide steps leading to the first floor was busy. The Councilors’ offices, the great hall, record room, library and Citadel’s jail all resided inside. My interest lay in the record room. Information from all the clans had been stored there, and I wanted to find any mention about the magician’s emergency tunnel within the records. Or perhaps the library would have some reference to the Keep’s layout?

  Bain’s private stash of books most likely contained the information I needed. The irony of my situation was not lost on me. The Second Magician had told Bavol about the tunnel’s existence because he knew Bavol would be the first person I would contact. What Bavol had thought was an interesting tidbit of information turned out to be a message for me.

  The lack of details remained a problem. East side of the Keep and big enough for a horse didn’t give me much to go on.

  The flow of people in and out of the Council Hall stayed steady. However, a few Vermin hung about and I decided not to risk my life for research.

  When I headed back toward the market, a strange feeling touched my back as if a thousand little spiders crawled up my spine in unison. Turning a corner, I glanced to the side. A male Daviian walked a small distance behind me. He wore red pantaloons and a brown hooded short cape. When I rounded another corner, he remained on my tail.

  His scimitar glinted in the sunlight. I entered the market. Pausing at a vegetable stand, I hoped the Vermin would pass me, but he leaned on a lamppost. Small darts of panic began to pierce my heart. If the Daviian was a Warper, I wouldn’t be able to lose him.

  Joining with a group of women, I stayed with them as they shopped. The man kept pace with us. I needed a distraction and fast.

  One of the women in the group paid for a beaded necklace. She had been rather loud and full of opinions as we went from stand to stand, and she made her annoyance over my unwanted presence clear to me.