Fire Lines

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Fire Lines Page 17

by Cara Thurlbourn


  A teapot rests in the centre of a low square table. Silvana sits down, cross-legged, and swills the tea around, anti-clockwise, four times, before pouring it. Kole sits beside her and I follow suit but the Watchers remain standing. Kole ignores them, touches the rim of his mug to Silvana’s, then mine and sips the green tea.

  “How are you, Silvana?” he asks, finally.

  She smiles and sets down her mug. “I think your friends are eager to skip the small talk.”

  Tsam presses a hand on Alyssa’s forearm to stop her from speaking, flicks his feathers and takes a cushion opposite Silvana.

  “I’m sorry,” he says. “But I’m afraid time isn’t on our side.”

  A shadow crosses Silvana’s face. “Because of my son,” she says. She darts a look at Kole. “I heard about Abilene. Was anyone hurt?”

  “No,” says Kole gently.

  Alyssa folds her arms. “Many homes were destroyed. It could have been much worse.”

  “I’m sorry,” says Silvana, her eyes watery.

  Kole puts his hand on her sinewy shoulder then looks at Alyssa. “Silvana is a friend. She’s trying to help us.”

  Alyssa unfolds her arms and sits down. Garrett too.

  Silvana’s face clears. “Thank you,” she whispers.

  Kole tells her to speak only when she is ready.

  She smiles sadly around the table. “You’re here because the sorcerer who divided the Fire Stone is a close friend of mine. His name is Søyen. When he created the girls and took Ava away, he entrusted me with a message for Émi. He knew the day would come when she would need to find her sister.”

  “How did you meet Søyen?” asks Tsam, cautiously.

  “My husband was a Watcher, but I’m a Healer. I grew up here, in Tarynne. Søyen came to my mother’s stall when I was a girl, to buy herbs and discuss remedies. When I moved to Abilene, he visited me often. Many times I asked him for advice—” her voice falters - “about my son.”

  “Advice?” I prompt.

  “Mahg was a troubled boy. Even before his wings failed to come through. But when he turned eleven, when all of his classmates developed and he didn’t, he withdrew even more. My husband wanted to consult the sorcerers in Esyllt, but Søyen didn’t think magick was the answer and I agreed. We spent a lot of time discussing holistic remedies – things that might help Mahg’s emotional state – to help him to come to terms with who he was and embrace it.”

  Alyssa nods curtly. “But Mahg turned to magick anyway.”

  Silvana sighs. “Yes. Dark magick. And I will never forgive him for what he did. I will never understand it. But Søyen believed that, despite everything, Mahg would not harm me. That I was the only one who could keep his message safe.”

  Alyssa blinks twice, in quick succession. “So, do you have it? The message.”

  Silvana rises from her place at the table and looks at me. “I do. But I would like to be alone with Émi.”

  Alyssa looks at the others. “I don’t think—” But they walk towards the door. Reluctantly, she follows them.

  Silvana and I are alone.

  She unhooks a dark blue pendant from around her neck and places it on the table in front of me. “When you touch the amulet, you will see Søyen's message. Are you ready?”

  I stare at the jewel and the blueness begins to swirl. It latches on to me and pulls me in. My fingers begin to prickle. Pins and needles of energy dart from my hands through my elbows to my chest. I reach out and place my hand over the amulet. What happens next is not like the vision in the room Cai put me in. This time I find myself drowning in images, battering into my mind as though they’ve been there all along.

  I see the bridge explode. I see dirty, yellow-toothed men tearing through the Academy with swords and daggers. I see Watchers falling from the sky and then a vast, black shadow swallowing up the lake. I see Mahg diving for the stone. Hitra, Sayah, Amin and Rumah follow him, along with other Watchers. They fight him in the air; they fight him in the water. Finally, he flees, injured. His soldiers retreat through the woods. I see the Academy burning, hear the screams. Then the Elders, in their chambers, frantic.

  We should divide the stone!

  No, keep it whole.

  Splitting it is the only way to keep it safe.

  No, it must stay here with us.

  We must consult the Elders of Tarynne, Esyllt.

  Nhatu?

  No, not them. The Council must not be told. Not yet. They will use it to their advantage.

  Then there appears a figure I’ve never seen before, but who I recognise instantly. Søyen. The sorcerer who created me. He tells them it can be done; the stone can be broken. As long as the pieces remain connected, the power of the stone will hold true. One for each of The Four Cities – even Nhatu. That’s how it must be.

  But Mahg will know. He’ll know where they are. He’ll attack again.

  Then we’ll divide it six times. Four for the cities and two to be hidden. Hidden where Mahg will never find them.

  A room, dark. No, not a room – it’s a cave, hidden behind the waterfall.

  Søyen kneels in a circle of flames. He’s holding something. The Fire Stone. Smaller than I thought, and brighter. So bright. So beautiful. He is chanting, his eyes closed. The flames go out. The stone gets brighter. Brighter. Sparks, like mine, burst out of it, bounce off the walls and the floor. Darkness. Then a baby cries. Two cries. My cries. And Ava’s.

  Amin is crouched beside a hospital bed. Inta lies still. Her cheek is bleeding. “I love you,” he says. “I will take Émi and Tsam. I will protect them both. Goodbye.”

  Amin is holding me. I’m not crying. Søyen kisses my forehead and whispers into my ear. He is holding Ava. He takes her away. I’m crying now. So is she.

  It starts to snow. Whirling, white, cold…

  My eyes snap open. “I know where she is…”

  As I leave Silvana’s, I feel strangely calm. I know everything now, and it feels as though I always have. Every fibre of my skin fizzes, but the sparks are calmer, constant, a part of me. Silvana didn’t ask me what I saw, just hugged me and told me to be careful. Her smallness as I wrapped my arms around her reminded me of my mother. But she is stronger than my mother.

  The others are waiting for me outside. Kole’s arms are folded. Alyssa and Tsam pace the ground as Garrett leans against a wall, chewing on something that looks like a long blade of grass. When Tsam sees me, he rushes over and checks me from head to toe. “You’re alright?” he asks.

  I brush him away. “It wasn’t as bad as before. It didn’t take me to the memories, it gave them to me. As if they were always mine.”

  Tsam frowns, as if he doesn’t quite understand. “Did it work?” he asks.

  I glance up and down the street. I’m not sure I want to say the words out loud. Understanding, Alyssa takes the map from her pocket and holds it out in front of me. I point to the mountains, west of Tarynne. She exchanges a worried glance with Tsam.

  “Are you certain?” she asks.

  I nod.

  “Do you know where?” asks Tsam.

  “I’ll know when we get there,” I tell him.

  Tsam peers closer at the outlines on the map. “The mountains aren’t really… habitable. No one lives there, Ém.”

  “Ava lives there,” I say, firmly.

  Instead of returning to Kole’s, we split up in order to gather supplies for the journey. Alyssa and Tsam go to dispatch a messenger to Abilene. They decide it’s not wise to tell the Elders where we’re going in a letter, so plan to simply inform them that we have a location and that we’ll be out of contact until we return. Kole goes to ready some horses and, I suspect, say goodbye to Maya, while Garrett and I are tasked with sourcing clothes and food.

  As the two of us walk through the market, I find myself fighting the two Émis in my head. Serious Émi, the one who is trying to prepare herself for what’s to come, simply wants to collect the things we need and be on our way. Émi from Nhatu, who always dreamed
of going over the wall, can’t help feeling a prang of excitement at the journey ahead.

  The market is buzzing with activity. It is calm, like Abilene, but more vibrant. Last night, I didn’t notice the brightly coloured scarves or flowers, the wind chimes or the incense. But today they seem to have multiplied. Each stall is different, and each vendor is smiling. The markets in Nhatu are ruthless, full of people trying to barter, steal and fleece each other. Here, in the middle of the giant limestone rock that forms the Second City, trading is amicable. Herbs are swapped for potions, wool for cotton, scarves for incense. Not once do I see someone offering money in exchange for goods.

  Garrett is still chewing his piece of grass and, after procuring some snow boots from a tubby retired Taman, he offers me a piece. It is sweet and salty at the same time and it makes my tongue tingle. I wrinkle my nose and Garrett laughs.

  “It’s an acquired taste,” he says. “Reminds me of when we were little. Da used to bring us for the displays and he’d let us chew as much Lye as we liked.”

  “Displays?”

  Garrett’s eyes twinkle. He explains that, at the turning of the season, the Taman and the elephants put on a display of their fighting skills.

  “It’s more like a dance, really,” he says. “Have you seen the baton Kole carries on his belt? It folds out so it’s almost as tall as he is. Every Taman has one. They use them like swords – fence with them.” Garrett does a little jig, spinning around and pretending to fight me with one of the boots he’s just purchased. I remember Alyssa’s jibe about him being a Tamanyte and I have to suppress a smile.

  “Kole is the best,” he says. “Really, the best. You know he’s only two years older than us? It’s unheard of for someone so young to be a Top Tier Taman.”

  “What makes him so good?”

  Garrett gives an exaggerated shrug. “Probably it has to do with his parents.” He lowers his voice. “From what I’ve heard, they were Healers. They were out looking for herbs and they were attacked by a changeling. Kole was too young to fight it off. Ever since then, he’s trained harder, fought better—”

  “Ahem.” A voice interrupts and we turn to find Kole standing behind us. I’m not sure who blushes more – me, or Garrett – but Kole’s expression doesn’t falter. If he heard us, he doesn’t betray any hint of anger or embarrassment. When he’s like this, stony and closed off, I feel my distrust of him ebbing back in waves. I try to remember how gentle he was with Maya and Silvana. But then I search his eyes and they’re so utterly still that I can’t help shuddering.

  “The horses are ready,” he says. “We will leave when the midday sun starts to wane.”

  “Good idea,” says Garrett, overly jovial, compensating for gossiping. “We’ve bought boots, wraps, food packs. Should have enough to last.”

  “I need some medical supplies,” says Kole. “I will meet you back at the dwelling.”

  “Right,” says Garrett. Then, as Kole walks away, he adds, “He heard us, didn’t he?”

  I shake my head. “It’s hard to tell. He’s so…”

  “Aloof?”

  “Exactly. I don’t understand it. With Maya, he’s so different. It’s like she softens him at the edges. Even with Silvana, he was kind.”

  “Probably an orphan thing,” says Garrett, immediately flushing red again. “Sorry, Émi, I didn’t mean…”

  I wave away his embarrassment. “I wish everyone would stop being so careful around me. I’m not that fragile. And I’m not an orphan.” Not yet, anyway.

  “Course. Sorry, Ém.”

  He looks genuinely sorry, so I nudge him playfully in the ribs. “Come on. Give me some more of that Lye.”

  When Kole returns to his quarters, he finds us in a state of utter disarray. Alyssa is clutching her side and trembling with laughter as Garrett hops on one leg, trying to squeeze his foot into one of the boots we bought. When he sees Kole, Garrett huffs and waves the boot at him,

  “That Taman said these would fit but we need to ask for our money back. I’ve been trying for ages!”

  I’m laughing too now, reminding Garrett that we didn’t actually give the Taman any money – just a few pouches of tea – so we probably can’t afford to be choosy. For a fraction of a second, Kole allows a smile to wrinkle the corner of his mouth. Then he takes the boot from Garrett, reaches inside and says, “You have to unclasp the laces first.”

  With the laces undone, the fabric falls open wide enough for Garrett to insert his foot. He wiggles his leg and grins.

  “That’s fantastic!” Then, he rounds on Alyssa. “Did you know? Were you deliberately watching me struggle?”

  Alyssa shrugs and seamlessly ties up her own pair, winking at her brother. Garrett flutters his wings and charges towards her but, before they can engage in a full-scale skirmish, Tsam shouts, “Okay! That’s enough!” He is smiling but they immediately straighten themselves up, muttering, “Sorry,” and, “Got carried away.”

  It is past midday now and the map is spread out to plot our journey. With the horses, Kole says we should make it to the foothills of the mountains by nightfall. “We’ll camp there tonight, then at sunrise we’ll begin our ascent.” He looks at the Watchers. “You won’t be able to fly once we’re past the foothills. The weather will be too unpredictable.”

  “How far are we going to have to climb?” Alyssa asks me with just a hint of nervousness in her voice.

  I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know. I just know she’s there.”

  Seventeen

  When we are ready, Kole walks us through the market, past the elephant murals and under a narrow archway that leads to a winding staircase. The stairs circle down through the limestone and emerge at the western edge of the pinnacle. A pair of horses are waiting for us. The Watchers take flight immediately and, for a moment, I let myself marvel at them. Then I climb onto my horse and we set off.

  Every hour or so, we stop for the Watchers to rest their wings. The terrain is sparse but unchallenging, similar to the landscape between Nhatu and Abilene. But when the mountains come into view, their tips obscured by low-hanging clouds, the temperature drops. Our travel tunics are similar to the one I wore for the Ceremony in Abilene, with winding straps of fabric that can form either short or long sleeves. Balancing as best I can in the saddle, I wind mine down around my elbows and forearms.

  We reach the foothills just before sunset and find a spot beneath a rocky alcove that will shelter us from the increasingly determined wind. Tsam and Garrett light a fire, while Kole gathers everyone’s rations, and I help Alyssa to fetch water from a nearby stream. When the water is bubbling in a pan suspended over the camp fire, Kole tips in each of our ration packs and stirs them into a thin brown broth.

  After we’ve finished eating and the sky is a dark blueish grey, Garrett reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small red harmonica. He grins. Alyssa groans. Tsam claps his hands.

  “Do you have to?” Alyssa asks, groaning again.

  Garrett answers her with a wink and begins to play a soft, lilting melody that reminds me of after-school dances in the Green Quarter, before they were banned. Kole looks uncomfortable, as if he’s worried someone will hear us, but the music is soothing and normal, helping us to forget about tomorrow’s climb and what it might bring.

  Eventually, with the sun firmly retired and the sky full of stars, Garrett draws his tune to a close. Without it, everything is quiet – too quiet. I glance over my shoulder at the mountains.

  “It really is just us, isn’t it?” I whisper.

  Tsam edges closer to me. “Yes. But we can do this, Ém.” He takes hold of my hand. “You can do this.”

  Garrett shuffles up on my other side. “Course you can.”

  Of course I can.

  Garrett takes the first watch, and, when I know Tsam, Alyssa and Kole are safely asleep, I go to sit with him. In the beginning, I found his liveliness unnerving. But now, he is the only one I feel at ease around. Tsam’s fussing irritates me, Alyss
a’s frostiness is unpredictable and Kole’s stoic indifference makes me feel twitchy and exposed.

  My father’s sketchbook is still in my pocket. I carried it over the wall, through the woods, to Abilene and to Tarynne. Now, I take it out and settle it in my lap. With a nub of charcoal that I snatched from the fire, I start sketching. I draw the Watchers, flying above me. The Spectre in the woods. Mahg as a boy, under the bridge. Time slips away.

  Garrett clears his throat. “Tsam was right. You’re good.”

  Finally, I look up. “My father taught me,” I tell him. “I know he’ll never see them, but I feel like I need to capture…” I wave my hands, “… all this. For him. Does that make sense?”

  Garrett nods and smiles, then points to the page where I’ve sketched him, Alyssa and Tsam. “I’m much better looking than that, you know.”

  I laugh lightly. “I’ll have to work on the likeness.”

  Soon, it’s time for Garrett to switch places with Alyssa. I’m not called on to keep watch, because they want to save my energies for tracking Ava. So I curl back down, hugging my sketches to my chest, and close my eyes. Garrett is asleep and snoring almost before he’s lying down. For the rest of the night, I tread water below the surface of sleep. I hear Alyssa swap with Kole, Kole swap with Tsam and Tsam begin to boil water for our breakfast.

  When I join him, he notices the grey circles beneath my eyes but doesn’t remark on them. He hands me some drinking water and places his wing around my shoulder. I let myself sink into him for a moment, pretending perhaps that we’re ten years old again and camping in the field behind The Emerald, with Amin keeping watch over us from the window.

  Alyssa is warmer towards me this morning and asks if I need help fixing my cloak, ready for the trek into the cold. I am starting to learn that her spikiness is a side effect of her need to prove that she is her brother’s equal. I must learn not to take it personally.

 

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