Flicker of the Flame: A YA Epic Fantasy

by Evelyn Puerto

  For one, two, three heartbeats, they stared at each other. A muscle twitched in Da’s jaw. “Fair enough.”

  They took care of the bills of lading without incident. Tereka breathed a sigh of relief that Tirk was nowhere to be seen. True to his word, Da let her claim the honey. He claimed only the horse trade and the Risker bread Cillia had pushed on him as they left.

  White Risker bread brought a good profit since only the Konameis purchased it. Not because of the expense, but because they were the only ones who were allowed to even know about it. Tereka frowned, wondering what else the Konameis knew about that they kept from the rest of the people.

  While she and Da unloaded the wagon, Waukomis wandered by. “It’s about time you got back. Fair trading?”

  Da smiled at him. “What do you think?”

  Just then a pair of guardsmen strolled through the line of wagons.

  “Oh, look,” one said. “We’ve found our missing traders.” He placed himself directly in Tereka’s path. “Where’ve you been, trader girl?”

  She felt her face grow hot. How dare he talk to her like that?

  “We’ve been trading in the north,” Da said. He eased himself over to Tereka’s side.

  Tereka wanted to tell him she could handle this. Another part of her was glad he’d stepped in. She would let him deal with it. She kept her eyes wide and innocent, ready to play along.

  “Oh?” the guard asked, leaning into Da’s face.

  “Honey.” Da pointed to the barrels. “A full load.”

  “Hmm.” The guard narrowed his eyes. “Make sure you report everything you’ve brought in.”

  Tereka narrowed her eyes. Why would the guard say that? Neither of them would cheat.

  “Of course.” Da gave the guard an affable smile.

  Thankfully, the guard moved on to the next wagon. Waukomis gave Da a sharp look, but Da mouthed the word “later” to him, and nodded to Tereka. “I’ll deliver the small stuff and send the ephor’s steward around for the honey.” He grabbed the sack of bread and slung it over his shoulder.

  “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” Waukomis raised his eyebrows. “Why the attention from the guardsmen? I’ve never known them to stick their noses into our business like that. Not unless they’re looking for Pommerian whiskey.”

  “Why don’t you come home with us?” Da said. “Tereka can pick up some pasties in the market and we can have a drink. Celebrate another good run.”

  Waukomis winked. “Gotcha. Pasties it is.”

  “I’ll catch up with you, then.” Da looked at Tereka. “Wait for me to begin, all right?”

  She knew he meant she shouldn’t say anything until he got there. Always having to be in control. She sighed and nodded. Da strode off and was lost in the crowd.

  “Well, it’s just you and me,” Waukomis said. “Don’t worry, I won’t interrogate you. Except to ask you what kind of pasties you like.”

  They kept the conversation on pasties, debating the merits of the savory varieties over the sweet. The ephor’s steward arrived with a few apprentices in tow. He handed over his sheaves and his helpers rolled the barrels away. Then Tereka and Waukomis bought a sackful of pasties and made their way to Da and Tereka’s house.

  Tereka reached for her key to unlock the door, then froze with her hand in her pocket. The door swung loose on its hinges. She let out a startled gasp and nudged the door open with her toe.

  The kitchen table lay on its side, the stools overturned nearby. Shards of the smashed teapot were scattered over the floor, along with pieces of the mugs. She stepped to the sleeping room. Both piles of straw had been strewn over the floor and their few changes of clothing were crumpled on top. “Who would do such a thing?” She felt violated. She numbly looked from room to room.

  Waukomis turned a stool upright and led Tereka to it. “Sit down,” he said gently. He turned the table and the other three stools over and arranged them around the table. He took the bag of pasties and dried fruit from Tereka and laid it on the table. “Seems I’m in for quite a story. Where’s your broom?”

  Tereka pointed to a corner by the fireplace. At least the vandals hadn’t destroyed it. She watched Waukomis sweep up the broken crockery and dump the shards into a bucket. He shouldn’t have to do this. She stood up to help him.

  “Sit.” Waukomis pointed at the stool. He replaced a shelf on its pegs, found one largely unscathed mug and a few spoons, and lined them up neatly on the table.

  A breath of warm air blew into the room, followed by Da.

  “Why didn’t you shut— ”

  Tereka looked at him, a tear forming in the corner of her eye when she saw his slack jaw. “It seems someone was here while we were gone.”

  Da sighed. “And left us a message.”

  “Care to tell me what it is?” Waukomis asked.

  “Not really.” Da dropped onto a stool. “But you deserve to know.” He ran a hand through his hair. Then he launched into a recital of the events that caused him and Tereka to flee, afraid they would be taken. “Perhaps they came to take us that night.” He waved a hand around the room. “Or maybe this was a warning.”

  “So where have you been all week?”

  “At first, Mikkeliad.”

  “You took Tereka to the Riskers?” Waukomis’ brown eyes were wide and startled.

  “I didn’t know where else to keep her safe.”

  “What’s wrong with Shinroo?”

  “That would be the first place they’d look. I wanted to make sure they couldn’t find us, to give Juquila a chance to calm down.” Da shook his head. “Waukomis, I’m going to tell you a secret that very few people know. I’ve kept this secret to keep Tereka safe. So, please, never tell anyone.”

  Waukomis frowned. “Of course. You have my word.”

  “Groa isn’t Tereka’s mother.”

  “Who is?”

  “A girl from Gishin.”

  “Tarkio, I’m surprised,” Waukomis said. “All these years on the road, I never heard a whiff of you dallying with any girl, anywhere. It was Groa or no one for you.”

  “And I’m not her father.”

  Even though she’d heard this several times already, Tereka’s stomach lurched at his words. All those years of lies. Then to learn the truth. What would Waukomis say when he found out? Would he think she was filth like Groa did? Still, she had to smile at Waukomis and his flapping jaw. He turned his face from Da to Tereka and back, as if one of them would tell him what he just heard wasn’t true.

  “Her father is a Risker.”

  “Oh.” Waukomis pulled back and stared at Tereka. “Oh. Eighteen years ago. I remember all that trouble.” He turned his face to Da. “But you told me they all died.”

  “I saw the Risker die. I watched as they beat Iskra and dragged her off, most likely to be abused until she died. But I found their child.” He gestured with his head at Tereka.

  “And you brought her here, as your own?”

  Da explained how he got Groa to agree to substitute Tereka for Tirika. “All those years, she only half-believed me that Tereka wasn’t the result of my cheating on her. When Aito turned three, Groa exercised her right to throw me out.”

  Waukomis sucked his cheeks in. “Meaning, she’ll never betray the secret. Or she’d have to take you back.”

  “Right. Not to mention, the crime I committed by hiding Tereka might cause terrible trouble for Tirk and Aito. They are my boys, after all.”

  Tereka held her breath, waiting for Waukomis’ response. Would he despise her for her barbarian blood? A knot tightened in her chest.

  Waukomis drummed his fingers on the table. “So you took Tereka to meet her Risker relatives?”

  “I always intended to, once she finished her probation. But now… ” He let out a deep breath. “I had to keep her safe.”

  “What do you think of your father’s family?” Waukomis asked Tereka.

  “I, um… ” She wasn’t sure how to respond. The savage Riskers had
been nothing but kind. “They weren’t what I expected.”

  “No, I would think not.”

  “You’ve been to a Risker camp?”

  “Not me. But I’ve heard enough from your da to know they aren’t quite as barbaric as we’ve been led to believe.”

  Tereka let out a breath. So Waukomis didn’t despise her. That means Kemet probably wouldn’t either. It was a relief to get things out in the open. She thought she’d feel easier if Waukomis knew the whole story. “I rather liked them.”

  “Why didn’t you stay longer?”

  “Because I need to finish my probation.”

  Da shifted on his stool. “It’s a little more complicated than that.”

  Her stomach, which had been fluttering, now clenched. Da didn’t seem like he was going to continue. But Tereka felt she had to take Waukomis into her confidence. She resented how Da had hidden the truth from her. She didn’t want to do the same to Waukomis and Kemet.

  “They seemed to think I’m the Desired One.”

  Waukomis’ eyes widened, his jaw dropped, and he gasped. “No.”

  “I wish you hadn’t told him that part,” Da said to Tereka.

  “What? You said he deserved to know.” Tereka frowned at him.

  “But a girl, the Desired One? Impossible.” Waukomis scratched his jaw.

  “She fits the prophecies. And one of the amulets of power found her.” Da slumped in his seat. His voice sounded defeated and sad.

  “Is that why they came after you?” Waukomis asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Da said. “If it was, they would have taken us the minute we set foot in Trofmose.” He looked at Tereka. “I suspect Juquila wanted to intimidate us.”

  “Let’s hope that’s all this is.” Waukomis looked down at his hands. “Tereka, I like you. And please know I don’t hold your parentage against you. That was none of your doing.” He paused.

  Tereka narrowed her eyes. “But?”

  “But I don’t want Kemet knowing anything about this. Or getting involved with you. It’s too dangerous for him. And for me.” He looked at Da. “I’m sorry.”

  Da stretched a hand out to Waukomis. “I understand. I’d feel the same way.”

  Hiding her clenched fists under the table, Tereka looked from one man to the other. Da didn’t even try to dissuade Waukomis. Once again he’d let her down. She felt like a hole was growing in her heart, an emptiness where Da used to be, and where she wanted to make a place for Kemet. Now it would be empty forever.

  32

  With a fluttering heart, Tereka ventured to the market the next morning. She’d agreed to not seek out Kemet. On the other hand, no one had said anything about avoiding him. She wandered around the stalls of the vendors of dried meat and fruits whom Waukomis usually dealt with, hoping to see Kemet. She was sure if she could talk to him, he’d be willing to at least be her friend. Her stomach fluttered, hoping friendship wasn’t all he had in mind.

  After an hour, her neck grew stiff from craning, searching over the heads of the throngs in the market. She swallowed the tightness in her throat. She’d just have to come back another day. With a sigh, she found a dealer in crockery and purchased a teapot and mugs to replace the ones that were smashed.

  She turned and bumped into a tall, solid man. “Sorry.”

  “Not as sorry as I’ll be if you won’t talk to me.”

  Tereka’s heart leaped. She tipped up her face and smiled. “Kemet.”

  He put a hand on her arm. “I’ve been looking for you all over.”

  Tereka’s smile widened, then fell. He hadn’t returned her smile with one of his own. “What’s wrong?”

  “Walk with me, will you?” He took her hand and led her through the busy market to the end row where few stalls had been set up, which meant fewer chattering people. He found an open spot and stood facing her. “Da came home last night upset about something. He wouldn’t look me in the eye. Finally, he mumbled something about you and your da being in trouble, and said I should stay away from you.”

  “What did you say?” Her muscles tensed. Would he listen to his father?

  “That he had no right to tell me that.” Kemet grimaced. “We had quite a fight. In the end, he said I should ask you for an explanation of why we shouldn’t see each other.”

  Curse Waukomis, making her do the dirty work. But he was right. If anyone was to tell Kemet, it has to be her, not his da.

  She let out a slow breath. “Kemet, I learned some things about myself.” This was going to be tricky. Da and Waukomis had been rightly concerned that she was putting them all in danger. And that even knowing of the existence of a half-villager, half-Risker would be enough for the ephor to order that person to be taken. The last thing she wanted to do was cause trouble for Kemet.

  “I’ve known for some time that Groa isn’t my mother.”

  He stared at her. “Is that why she was so cruel to you?”

  “Partly. But there’s more. Tarkio isn’t my father.”

  “What?” He wrinkled his brow. “If he’s not, who is?”

  “I want to tell you, but I have to know I can trust you.” She fixed her eyes on his for a few heartbeats. “By all that keeps us safe, no matter what, you can never tell anyone.” When his eyes flickered, she wavered. Should she tell him? “Your da knows.”

  “Oh, right. Of course.” Kemet put a hand on her shoulder. “Listen, I swear. No one will hear it from me. Never. You have my word.”

  Tereka took a deep breath and tried to ignore her racing heart. “My father was a Risker.” She kept her eyes on his face so she could study his reaction.

  He blinked. He opened his mouth, closed it, and let it fall open again. “A savage?”

  “Well, I’ve met quite a few of my relatives on that side. I wouldn’t call them that.”

  “That’s where you’ve been? With the Riskers?”

  Really, he was being a little dense. “Yes,” she answered more sharply than she’d intended. “Da was afraid Juquila was going to have me taken. So we fled. He figured the best thing was to hide with the Riskers for a few days, to let things calm down. And he decided it was time I learned the truth.”

  “You’re half barbarian?” He shuffled a step away from her.

  “Half Risker.” Her breath hitched and she felt a sinking sensation.

  “That’s impossible. Everyone knows that half-breeds are all born deformed. If they survive at all.”

  Tereka glared at him. “Thank you.”

  His face reddened. “I’m sorry. Maybe I heard wrong. Or maybe Riskers aren’t as bad as people say.”

  “They’re not.” She realized she was angry with Kemet for having the same reaction to the news that she did. Which fueled her ire, making her clench her fists. “There’s more.”

  “More?”

  Kemet looked as though he smelled rotting fish offal. He didn’t look like he wanted to hear anything else. Tereka didn’t care. She was tired of people hiding the truth from her. She didn’t want to do the same to Kemet. She repeated the prophecy of the Desired One and told him about her amulets.

  Kemet took a step back. “No, tell me you don’t believe that superstition.”

  “Not really.”

  “I don’t want to get mixed up in some plot to overthrow the Prime Konamei— ”

  “Kemet, they just think I might be the Desired One. I’m not, no matter what they say. I just want to live my life.”

  He stared at her, his face pale. “How can you even mention it? If what you say is true, I could be taken just because I know about it.” He shook his head. “You’re going to live under this cloud even if you manage to keep all this secret, Tereka. Which at the rate you’re going, doesn’t seem likely.” He touched her face gently, his fingers trembling. “If anyone finds out, you’ll be taken. As will anyone they even suspect of having known.” He pressed his lips together. “I have to agree with Da on this one. It’s too dangerous to be involved with you.” He slid his hand to her shoulder and
squeezed it. “I’m so sorry.” He turned and walked away.

  Tereka stared at his slumped shoulders as he left, her own hands hanging limp at her sides. She dropped her head and stifled a sob. If Kemet couldn’t bear to know her anymore, who would want to?

  Staggering between the market stalls, Tereka tried to wrap her head around what had just happened. She’d trusted Kemet, even loved him. And now this? He’d said she was part barbarian, should have been born deformed. No wonder Groa despised her. And now Kemet didn’t want anything to do with her. She swallowed hard. It didn’t make it any easier, that it was all based on lies.

  Fine. She’d show them all. She had magic amulets and she was going to use them. As she saw fit. No need to bring some sky-god into the picture. Then they’d all see. Clanging from the blacksmith’s forge echoed the throbbing in her head.

  She rounded a corner and tripped over an overturned box. She kicked it, smashing its side in. The crash didn’t ease her rage.

  A few paces later she came face to face with Tirk.

  He nodded, his face impassive. “Peace and safety.”

  His formality threw her a little. “Peace and safety to you, Tirk. How’s your life?” She gave him a warm smile, trying to break through his coldness. Maybe he’d be willing to make up. At least she’d have one friend.

  “I’m well.” He shifted his body as if he was going to walk around her.

  She put a hand on his arm. “Tirk, about the last time we talked— ”

  His sepia brown eyes were cold like a winter night. “I don’t see any reason to bring that up.”

  “If you please, I just wanted to say you’ve never heard Da’s side of the story.”

  “What? That he had a favorite strumpet in Anbodu, who left him with a blue-eyed brat? That he forced Mam to raise her as her own? How could there be any other side to that?”

  The rage that had ebbed with her desire to reconcile with Tirk, surged anew. “My mother wasn’t a strumpet.”