CHAPTER FOUR
Aldarin dropped Ember off in front of the bathhouse. She waved her thanks to her stepbrother and tromped up the stairs, scratching at her bare arms. Her skin was so gray with ash, it seemed she’d been painted from head to toe with the stuff, and it itched. She could hardly wait to climb in the deep pool that was heated by the same vein of magma that fed Devil’s Mount.
The white hawk was back again.
Ember stopped with her hand on the door and looked up at the bird perched above her. For once she was close enough to see his green eyes, bright as the emeralds in her wolf pendant. The bird cocked his head, examining her, and Ember was startled to realize no ash touched him. She blinked, and for just a moment the green glow was back over his shoulders. It was like the ghost image one sees after looking at the sun. It must be from the eruption. Probably some gasses in the air making me delusional, she thought as she rubbed at her eyes and tried to get her heart to slow.
It scared her that she was seeing things, whatever the reason. She got chills as she opened her eyes and saw the bird was still there, staring at her, and realized this being was not normal. It was something more—though what, she didn’t know. The white hawk tilted his head once more, beat his wings, and launched into the sky, quickly disappearing in the darkness.
Ember went into the bathhouse and locked the door, grateful for once that her mother had set the bath up with candles rather than magelights. Otherwise, she’d be bathing in the dark.With relief she lit the candles, pulled off her now-filthy nightgown and tossed it in the hamper, then started to scrub.
Once clean, she pulled the cord that would sanitize the tub and watched the heated water swirl around her. Clean water fell from above, scalding her head almost to the point of pain, while the drain below her siphoned the liquid to who knew where. When no more gray dirtied the bath, she climbed out.
She was drying herself off when someone banged at the door.
“Just a minute,” she said, toweling her hair dry. She wasn’t sure how she was going to manage it, but she had to find a way to keep the ash out of her hair. It had taken much longer to wash, and she wasn’t about to do it again the same day.
“If only I had one of Ezeker’s weather charms . . .” she thought wistfully. Those little things were amazing. It didn’t matter what fell from the sky, the charm would surround her with an invisible dome that shucked it all aside, keeping her clean and dry. Well, nothing to be done about it. Wishes wouldn’t bring a weather charm to her, and she had no power to stop the ash or create her own shield. She’d just have to settle for plain old farm-girl ingenuity and figure something out.
Once Ember was dry enough to climb into her spare clothes, it was only a matter of a minute before she was dressed and ready to go. She finally settled the dilemma of her hair by wrapping the damp towel around it and tucking the ends inside.
She looked around to make sure all was in order for the next person and, satisfied, opened the door, surprised to see Aldarin waiting for her. His gleaming uniform made her scowl.
“Aldarin, how do you stay so clean in this stuff?”
“I thought you’d like the clean look,” he said, running his hands down the crisp lines of his shirt,
“but if you prefer the ash, I guess I’ll give this weather charm to Marda instead,” he teased.
“Give me that, you big goof,” she said, laughing and reaching for the amulet that hung from his hand. “I was just wishing for one of these. Maybe my luck is changing for the day.” She settled it around her neck, layered over the wolf pendant, and thankfully unwound the towel from her hair. She blew out the candles and stepped from the bath house. Immediately, a small magelight around Aldarin’s neck sprang to life and lit their way.
“Hey, how is it your magic is working when all of ours is out?”
Aldarin glanced at her and looked down at the blue light. “Ezeker respelled it before he sent me for you.” He took Ember’s elbow as they climbed the short hill toward the house. “Something in the blast blew out all the spells, but it doesn’t prevent any new ones from being cast. Ezeker and pretty much everyone from the mage academy are running around respelling things as fast as they can.” Ember headed for the front door, but Aldarin pulled her around the side of the house. “It will be days before they get it all done, especially with the strongest magi respelling the dome over Karsholm, but it will get done eventually.”
“So what are you doing here, anyway?”
“Ezeker thought you could use a ride into Karsholm,” Aldarin answered. “He would have sent me with Da’s medicine, but he thought you could use the time away, and besides, he’s got a birthing day gift for you and wanted to give it personally.”
“Really? A present for me? He doesn’t usually do that—hey! What’s Monster doing here?” She rounded the corner to see not the gray palfrey Aldarin usually rode, but the midnight stallion her stepfather had raised and sold to the mage academy.
“He’s mine now—a gift when Ezeker promoted me to captain of his Guard.”
Ember squealed. “Captain? Really, you mean that?”
He nodded. “I only found out last night when they set up the roster for the mage trials. I’ve been promoted. The youngest captain in three hundred years, they say. Who knows—at this rate, I’ll be a general by the time I’m thirty.”
Ember laughed with delight. “Oh, what a birthing day present! You could not have given me a single thing better.”
“Good,” he said, helping her up onto the towering beast, “because I was too poor to get you anything this year. Sorry, Sis.” Ember scooted back onto Monster’s rump. Aldarin jumped up, then swung his leg wide over the stallion’s neck and settled into place before nudging Monster forward.
“Yeah, right,” she said, digging her fingers into the flesh just above his boney hips. “You always give me the best presents. Come on, Aldarin. What did you get me?”
Her brother tried to hold in his laughter, but squirmed when she found his one and only tickle spot and dug at it mercilessly. “Nothing, Sis. You haven’t been good enough to get a present from me this year,” he teased, laughing.
“Aldarin, don’t be mean! Please?” she begged and stopped tickling him just long enough for him to pull his mail shirt down even farther.
“Nope, huh uh. I’m not saying a word, and you can’t make me.”
“I’ll bet I can.” Ember dug at his hips again, but found only chain mail. “Grrr. I thought you loved me,” she pouted.
Aldarin changed the subject. “How is Da doing? I haven’t had time to stop by for a while, and to be honest, it’s just too hard seeing him. He was always so strong and healthy, and now . . .”
Aldarin didn’t need to finish. Ember knew. She still lived with it, after all—smelling the sickness and hearing the deep hacking coughs night after night and seeing her stepfather waste away before her eyes. It was too much to bear.
Ember sighed. “He’s alive, but I don’t think he wants to be. It’s only a matter of time before the lung sickness takes him. Mother fights it, but even she has had to admit that his days are numbered.” She gave his arm a squeeze. “He misses you, Aldarin. I think the greatest joy you could give him would be to spend as much time with him as you can spare. I know he would never say it, but you are his greatest pride. You live the dreams he never could. Guard to one of the greatest magi of our time? How could a father not be proud of you?”
Aldarin shrugged. “I’ll do what I can,” he promised, urging Monster into an easy lope, eliminating any further conversation.
The trip was made quickly, and within a matter of minutes they had reached their destination. Ezeker’s tower was lit up in full glory, blue and orange magelights beaming in strips that ran from street to rooftop. The sky was still dark as a moonless night, but Ezeker lit the whole area with his magic. A distinct line of ash circled around his tower as if a great, invisible dome covered his home and had swept it all aside—his oversized version of a weather charm that somehow still funct
ioned. She knew she shouldn’t be surprised. The weather charm she wore was active, after all, so why not his shields—but seeing magic still working on such a grand scale was amazing.
Ember threw her leg over the back of the stallion and slid down his side while Aldarin looped the reins through a ringed post just inside the gate. He led his sister across the courtyard.
It was odd to hear footsteps again instead of the swish-swish of ash against Monster’s legs. The courtyard they crossed was small; only seven noisy steps before the thick wooden door stood beneath Aldarin’s outstretched hand. He caressed the wood with his fingertips, and Ember was startled to see faint trails of green light sparkling in the tracks of sweat he left behind on the dusty door. She blinked, but the tracks faded when her eyes opened again. She shook herself. It had to be some strange effect caused by the gasses that had erupted from Devil’s Mount. The smell did make her a bit lightheaded. Oddly, it was easier for Ember to believe she was hallucinating than the impossibility of magic coming from Aldarin.
The door clicked and swung slowly open.
“Wait for me, and I’ll let him know we’re here. He’s probably upstairs packing, even though I told him not to,” Aldarin said. Moving to the left and through an alcove, his heels clicked as he jogged up the stairs, chain mail chinking. Ember could follow his movement above her, his voice echoing as he called for the master. The sounds faded as he made his way to the upper levels, then silenced for a very long while.
Ember sat at the stone table with its mismatched wooden chairs and waited.
The main area was dark, the only light coming from Ezeker’s green room where he grew herbs and medicines each year and raised his own tomatoes and cucumbers as well. Some years there was even melon, and Ember remembered many a New Year celebration that included Ezeker’s bright red, out-ofseason melon that was as ripe and warm as the middle of summer. She breathed in the smell of life that surrounded her and relished the fragrance. She closed her eyes, then immediately snapped them open again, heart pounding.
For just a moment she had seen something more—green swirls and surges and spikes as she had seen around Aldarin’s hand on the door. With her eyes open she could see nothing, but when she closed them . . . there again, twirling in a ghostly dance that unnerved her. Was she going crazy? How could she be seeing things that weren’t really there?
Now that she thought about it, she’d been seeing the green sparkles all morning, ever since the volcano exploded. She remembered the dancing light at the edge of the cloud and the swirling lines that hung in the hawk’s wake. Could it really be as simple as volcanic gasses?
Ember was beginning to think not. Her heart pounded as she thought of the possibilities. Hadn’t one of her grandparents gone insane? Hadn’t they complained of seeing things nobody else saw? She had a vague memory of Paeder’s father running full into the barn siding, chasing a huge butterfly no one else could see. He’d knocked out some teeth with that hit.
That had to be it. Ember gnawed at her thumbnail, knee bouncing up and down in agitation. She was going insane. The tears welled up, and she was so lost in her panic that she jumped when Ezeker’s voice sounded from behind her.
“That’s not a good sign.” He sat down in the chair across from her and motioned toward her bouncing leg. “What’s bothering you, child?” he asked, forcing her eyes to meet his.
Ember didn’t dare say. She couldn’t bear to think he might confirm she was going crazy. She battled within herself, and the tenderness in his eyes finally sent it pouring out. “I’m seeing things, Uncle, and it scares me to death.”
Ezeker was still. “What kind of things?”
“Green spikes and whorls and stuff. Aldarin put his fingers on the door, and I saw it then. And earlier this morning around the eruption. But figured I was hallucinating because of the gasses from the volcano. I saw it again in your green room. I’ve never seen anything like it. I’m going crazy, aren’t I?” She was sure he would say yes, but instead he laughed.
“Oh, heavens no, child. I’ve been waiting for this to happen, and it’s certainly taken its time about it.”
Ember’s heart stilled for a moment, then its beat returned to its usual pace. Her hand dropped from her mouth to slap the table. “You mean this is normal?”
“It is when you are coming into your power,” he answered, smiling as he reached and placed a gnarled hand over hers. “Green is the color of life. It is perfectly natural for you to begin with this color. Others may appear later.”
Ember didn’t really hear him beyond his telling her she was coming into power. She really could be a mage? Not just in a dream, but in reality? Her heart pounded again, but it was no longer in fear.
“What you are seeing is life: the force, the energy, the power in all living things. This is good. This is very good. If you can see the power of life, you can tap into it and borrow from it. That is, in part, what I do when I heal things and help them grow.”
“So, do you think I could help Paeder?” she blurted the desire of her heart.
Ezeker shook his head. “I’m afraid he is too far beyond your reach. He is beyond even my abilities. I have spoken with your mother about taking him to the Mage Council at the trials. Perhaps the council can heal him when I alone cannot, but I fear she has waited too long.”
“He’s dying, then.”
“Yes, child, he is.” Ezeker brushed Ember’s hair back from her face, then let his hand rest on her shoulder. “The medicine will ease his cough and help him sleep, but there is nothing more I can do. I only hope your mother will set aside her feelings for the magi and allow us to at least try.”
“I’d talk to her, but you know how much good that would do,” Ember said, only slightly bitter. She knew her mother well enough to understand that the quickest way to doom an idea was to talk to her about it.
“It will not always be thus, Ember.” He squeezed her shoulder, then let go. “Now, if memory serves me right, and it usually does,” his eyes twinkled at her, “you’re due at a birthing day celebration.” Ezeker stood and shuffled to one of the chairs on the far side of the table. There he took up a small, wooden box from the cushion and handed it to her. “Happy birthing day, child.”
Ember’s fingers trembled as she took the box in her hands. It was made of thin cherrywood, with the top nestled over the bottom. She gave the lid a slight shake, and it came free. She gasped, so stunned that she sat there absolutely dumbfounded, until Ezeker took the box from her, chuckling, and set it on the table. He moved behind her and pulled on the leather thong around her neck until her pendant lay upon his palm—the pendant her father had given her. Ezeker wrapped Ember’s hand around the amulet.
“Hold this,” he said, pulling the cord from the ring. He took a silver chain from the box and threaded it through the pendant, then pulled the ends up and around the back of her neck. He whispered a few words, and a slight surge of heat grazed her neck as the ends of the chain were merged together as one. Ember twisted the necklace around and could not find where it had been joined, so perfect was it.
“This chain is spellcast,” he said. “It will not break, nor will it tear your skin, though it will do serious harm to anyone who tries to take it from you.”
She glanced up at him, tears in her eyes. “I’ve never had a finer gift, Uncle. Thank you.”
“Oh, we’re not done yet, child.” He gathered the other two items from the table and grinned at her. “Your father gave these to me for safekeeping long before he died. Somehow he knew he might not be here to do this himself. I was told to give them to you when I felt the time was right. Today is that day.”
He held in his hands two of the most unique pieces of jewelry Ember had ever seen. They were a set of what most would call slave bracelets, matching in every detail. A wolf, twin to the one at her neck, sat upon a ring, with emerald eyes peering straight ahead. A single fine chain ran from the ring to a carved wolf head the size of a coin, and from there a short link joined ring and
coin to a scrolled bracelet.
The bracelet also carried the wolf theme, but in representations of the phases of lupine life. Each part was beautiful, in and of itself, but all together they were magnificent. Ezeker slipped the ring on her middle finger and bent the bracelet around her wrist, then joined the ends together with a single surge of light and heat. The piece was beautiful on her wrist, and knowing it came from her father was just . . . overwhelming.
The second bracelet and ring went on her left hand just as easily, and a few whispered words from Ezeker had them sealed in place. It amazed her. She kept expecting the metal to pinch, but wearing it was no different than a leather glove or a silk scarf, and it was even lighter than she imagined the latter to be.
Ember sat admiring her two new ornaments when the eyes of the wolves on both bracelets and her pendant began to glow with a brilliant light that nearly hurt her eyes.
She put her hand over her eyes, her heart racing. The light got brighter. She could see the green glow through her fingers and wanted to do nothing more than rip the bracelets off. The light sparkled across her skin like miniature lightning bolts.
She squealed and shook her arms, trying to fling the bracelets from her, but the action had no effect. Her heart beat so fast, it felt as if it would rip its way up her throat or explode any moment. Why would her father have given her a gift that would do her harm? No, he wouldn’t.
Her skin began to itch as the light brightened. It terrified her. The entire day had her scared and doubting herself, and now this was happening—it had to be Uncle Ezzie’s magic. “What are you doing,
Uncle?”
Ezeker was silent.
She glanced up at him, her eyes narrowed against the piercing light. Her stomach dropped at the shock on his face. “I’m not doing anything, child,” he croaked.
Ember’s skin prickled as she watched the light from the jewelry fade, but with the diminishing light came the sound of a coal popping from a fire, then a flash of green that faded quickly, but took the detail of the chain with it. What had been three dimensional before, so obvious to touch and eye, began to melt into her skin.
Ember was horrified. “Get it off, get it off!” she screamed, clawing at the bracelet. But there was nothing to grasp. It was a mere shadow of itself, fading quickly into her hands. She expected the chains to burn, but they didn’t. She shook like a tree in the wind, but there was nothing to be done. All she could do was watch as the chains continued to merge with her skin, as if they were nothing more than lotion or soap to be absorbed.
The ring-bracelet sank just as the chains had—flattening until at last they appeared to be a tattooed decoration instead of removable jewelry. She touched one shaking fingertip to the gleaming eyes twinkling at her from the back of her hand, but it felt no different than her normal skin.
And then it started all over again as the necklace she wore—the one her mother had told her so often never to remove—flared to life. Bright emerald eyes flashed intensely as the necklace, too, faded from the silver pendant she’d worn, to a light silvery-gray tattoo with green eyes flashing from the bottom of her sternum.
Ezeker was as stunned as she. “Well, never in all my years . . .” he whispered. Their eyes met and held. Ezeker’s eyes shone with every bit as much fear as she knew was in her own.
Ember held up one hand. “Can this come off?” she asked, her voice shaking.
“I don’t rightly know, child. It should. But then again, that should not have happened.” Ezeker touched the middle of her inner wrist where the ends of the bracelet joined, and whispered a few words. Ember felt the surge of power and heat, but it dissipated into her skin with no change in look or feel.
The old man scratched his bald head. “I am certain your mother is going to be rather unhappy about this.“
“No questioning that,“ Ember responded, still staring at the fading lines of silver. “She’s going to hate it.” Her face softened as she caressed the image of the wolf in her palm and traced the lines across the back of her hand. “But, you know what?“
“What?” he whispered, pale and shaken.
Ember grinned at him, suddenly happier than she had felt in a very long time. “It’s worth it. She can’t do a thing about it—and from my father, to boot,“ she whispered, awed. “I couldn’t ask for a better birthing day gift. It’s beautiful, don’t you think?”
Ezeker just nodded his head and smiled.
The Sapphire Flute: Book 1 of The Wolfchild Saga Page 8