by J. J. Green
Wildfire and Steel
Star Mage Saga Book 3
J.J. Green
Editing: L.M. Lengel
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Books of the Star Mage Saga
Prequel: Star Mage Exile
Book 1: Daughter of Discord
Book 2: Dark Mage Rises
Book 3: Wildfire and Steel
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter One
Ostillon was at war. The Sherrerrs were attacking the Dirksens’ base planet, and Carina and her siblings were running out of places to hide.
For days they had traveled from refuge to refuge, fearing the collapse of their latest home from bombardment, or that Castiel was on their tail. They had not seen their Dark Mage brother, however, and for the moment the bombing had stopped.
“We have to try to find some food, Bryce,” said Carina to her friend. “The kids haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
“I know,” he replied. “Let’s go now while it’s quiet.”
They had discovered a basement in an abandoned house the previous day, and with practised ease Carina’s siblings had made the place as comfortable as was possible. Parthenia and the twins, Oriana and Ferne, had dragged rugs down from the upper floors, and Nahla had made it her job to furnish the place with cushions.
The mage children and their non-mage sister, Nahla, were keeping themselves occupied with quiet games. The youngest sibling, Darius had found a pack of playing cards and was arranging them face upward in rows. To avoid discovery by their brother, they knew they had to remain inconspicuous. But children’s games would not put food in their bellies.
Carina asked her oldest sister, Parthenia, to watch the younger children. Parthenia agreed, as she was always quick to help in whatever way she could. Carina and Bryce climbed the stairs from the basement and emerged in the kitchen. The pantry and cupboards had been the first place they had searched when they arrived, but the food storage spaces were predictably empty.
The war had thrown Ostillon into chaos. All the regular systems of food distribution had broken down, and people had to take whatever they could find. Carina had not figured out what she would do when the day came that she couldn’t feed her siblings.
After checking that the street was deserted, Carina and Bryce passed through the front door, which had jammed open due to its warped door frame. They ran to the end of the street on the shadowed side where the rays of the rising sun hadn’t reached. While they searched for food someone would eventually see them, but it was important that no one guessed where they’d come from. The last thing she wanted was someone snooping in their hideout while she was gone. It was the best she could do to protect those she had to leave behind.
They headed out of the residential area and toward the nearest commercial district. They had to travel on foot. Carina could have unlocked a vehicle with a Cast, but no working autocars were to be found. Anyone with the ability to leave the city had driven away days previously.
Carina spotted the bombed-out bakery from halfway down the street. The building’s ruins were still smoldering from the most recent attack, but looters had already infiltrated the place. She could see shadows of figures moving inside the broken remains. If she and Bryce didn’t go inside soon there wouldn’t be anything left to scavenge.
She nudged Bryce with her elbow and pointed.
“I see it,” he said.
They crossed the road and sped up their pace. Carina hoped no one would give them any trouble. Usually, if plenty of goods remained, there was no fighting. Everyone took as much as they could carry and quickly departed. But if most of the goods had been taken people grew belligerent and things got physical. Carina wasn’t bothered by the prospect of fighting the Ostillonian citizens, who were not trained military, but she didn’t want to have to hurt anyone.
As they arrived at the demolished bakery, Carina spied an older couple coming down the street from the other direction. More hungry people hoping for something to fill their bellies. A smoking rafter had crashed down and was bisecting the doorway. She quickly ducked below it and went inside the shop.
“Be careful,” Bryce said as he followed her. “I don’t like the look of that ceiling.”
Little of the ceiling remained. The passage of the air strike was clearly marked from the roof two floors above, and the clear morning sky lit the bakery’s interior.
“Never mind that,” Carina replied. “We need to hurry.”
The store at the front was already empty. Others had arrived before them to take whatever baked goods had remained on the shelves. The place stank of smoke and burned wood and the air was hazy. Carina walked through to the back of the building.
“Out of my way,” a burly man warned, meeting her from the opposite direction. He was carrying a sack of flour over his shoulder.
“Carina,” said Bryce in a warning voice.
Carina stepped backward to give him room to pass. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything,” she said to Bryce. She guessed more sacks of ingredients were stored in the back. If it came down to it, she would do everything in her power so that her family didn’t starve, including fighting, but things weren’t so bad that she’d been forced to challenge someone else for their food, yet.
When the man had passed her by, Carina stepped into the backroom of the bakery. The Sherrerrs’ attack hadn’t penetrated there and the power in the city had been off for days, so the place was dark.
She could hear scuffling, and she paused a moment so her eyes could adjust to the low light. A few seconds later Carina saw the source of the noise: two figures were grappling over something. One of the figures was gripping a small sack to her chest and the other, also a woman, was trying to pry it from her fingers. Carina guessed the sack contained salt or a similar precious substance.
Bryce had gone past, his hands outstretched to feel his way in the dark. “Here! Here’s something. Carina, come and help me lift it.”
“Let go,” one of the fighting women exclaimed. “I saw it first. It’s mine.”
“You might have seen it first,” her opponent replied, “but I took it first. Go and look for some more yourself if you want it that bad.” She released her hold on the bag to grabbed the other woman’s hair, wrenching her head down. Screeching, the assaulted woman punched the other in the face. The bag dropped to the ground, spilling its contents. Both women wailed with dismay, dropped to their knees, and began to fight over who would scoop the spilled material back into the bag.
Carina quickly strode past the scene and joined Bryce, who was twisting the neck of a large sack in his h
ands, preparing to pick it up.
“Are you sure you can carry it?” Carina asked, eyeing the size of the bag.
“I’m going to try.”
Bryce’s frame had been coltish when Carina first met him, probably due to the disease he’d been suffering, but since he’d been cured he’d put on muscle. Carina guessed he was now stronger than her so she let him take the lead. But as he heaved the sack upward she helped by gripping the sides and lifting.
“Let’s go,” Bryce panted. He marched toward the front of the bakery, his back bent under the weight of the flour.
Carina hoped they would make it back to their latest hideout. She would take a turn in carrying the sack. And if they couldn’t manage it, they could always tip some of the flour out somewhere hidden and return for it later. Pleased with their find, she followed Bryce into the front of the bakery.
The older couple she’d seen in the street a few minutes previously was now barring the store exit. The man and woman were dressed in clothes that had once been fine but were now grimy and torn. The pair stood in intimidating silence, their intent clear from their glares.
Bryce had halted, his knuckles white from the strain of holding the heavy sack.
“Hand it over,” said the man. “Then you can go.” His arms were folded over his chest in an attempt to look intimidating.
Carina felt a trace of pity for the couple. Though Ostillon had only been at war for a short time the residents were already showing signs of starvation. Formerly well-off, they were clearly unused to surviving in difficult circumstances.
“There’s plenty more back there,” Carina said, gesturing behind her. “We don’t have to fight over this.”
“I don’t believe you,” said the older woman. “How do we know you haven’t taken the last one? This is the first place we’ve found that hasn’t already been ransacked floor to roof.”
Bryce dropped the sack. “Here, take it. We can get another one.”
“No,” said Carina. “They can get their own.” She walked up to the couple. “Move out of our way. We aren’t a charity. Stop wasting our time. I told you there’s more inside. Go and look for yourselves.”
When the man and woman still didn’t budge, Carina grabbed one of their shoulders each and pulled the pair forward, out of the doorway. The woman stumbled.
“Hey,” the man exclaimed, raising a fist, “how dare you—”
Carina deflected his blow and punched his jaw. She hit him hard enough to make him stagger but not black out.
Wisely, the man heeded the warning. Rather than fight back, he went to his wife’s side and hurled insults at Carina.
She helped Bryce as he lifted the sack onto his back. They stepped out into the street.
“Why did you have to hit him?” asked Bryce. “They were old, and there was plenty to go around.”
“That wasn’t the point. If those two are going to survive, they need to learn to pick their fights. We’re obviously younger and stronger than them. If they aren’t careful they’ll die quicker than by starvation. Things on Ostillon are going to get a lot worse before they get better. I hope I taught them a lesson.”
“So what you’re saying is,” Bryce said with a wry smile, “you manhandled that woman and punched that guy for their own good?”
“Something like that.”
Carina and Bryce were walking briskly and looking around them. Now that they’d finally found something to eat, they had to make it across the city to their latest refuge without losing their precious find to another looter.
As always, Carina was carrying a metal canister of elixir, but she could only use the liquid to Cast as a last resort. Castiel was undoubtedly scouring the war-torn planet for his mage siblings. He would be on the watch for news of strange, inexplicable occurrences, like things moving without being touched or people disappearing into thin air.
The problem of what to do about her Dark Mage sibling had plagued Carina ever since she’d agreed with Parthenia that she had to do something. All she’d accomplished so far was to keep her family out of his clutches. That, and provide them with food and a safe place to sleep. She would have to be content with the fact they had survived another day.
The puzzle of how to deal with Castiel would have to wait a while.
Chapter Two
“What is it?” Darius asked, jumping up onto his toes and bouncing when Carina and Bryce carried the sack between them downstairs into the basement. “What did you find?”
“Some kind of flour,” Carina replied, dropping her end of the heavy sack. Her back was sore and her hands were aching and raw from gripping the rough material. Every day she and Bryce had to walk farther to find food. Looters were steadily cleaning out the city. Carina wondered if the time had come to relocate somewhere else on Ostillon.
“Is that all?” Darius asked. He’d opened the sack, revealing the grainy white powder. He looked up at Carina, his big brown eyes plaintive.
“What do you mean, is that all?” asked Bryce. “We can make some delicious fried cakes from this stuff.”
“Except we don’t have any oil or fat,” Oriana said.
“Baked cakes, then,” Bryce replied.
Oriana pouted and rested her chin on her hand. She was sitting next to her twin on a broken-down sofa that had been dumped in the basement of the abandoned, partially demolished house.
Parthenia was playing a card game with Nahla on the dusty rug, using cards made from plaspaper trash. She put down her cards, stood up, and walked to the sack. “This looks great. Very fresh. Thanks, Carina and Bryce, for finding it for us. I guess it’s still pretty dangerous out there.” She looked pointedly at Oriana, who muttered, “Thanks, Carina and Bryce.”
Darius murmured something unintelligible and returned to the cards.
“I’ll make us something to eat,” Parthenia said. “You two sit down and rest.”
Carina could have hugged her sister. Of her four mage siblings, Parthenia was the only one who wasn’t showing the effects of their luxurious, privileged upbringing. Though initially Darius, Oriana, and Ferne had risen to the challenges of a harder life than they were used to, the novelty had clearly worn off. Parthenia was the only one who hadn’t complained even once.
Carina struggled to pity the others. They might have fallen from the highest to the lowest tier of society, but they were only leading the same life Carina had lived for six years after Nai Nai had died. Hunger, cold, and danger were daily obstacles to be faced. She hated to admit it, but she was disappointed in them.
“I’m going to rinse off,” said Bryce. Flour from the sack had coated his neck and hair.
“Let’s start a fire,” Carina said to Parthenia.
“There’s no need. I can do it myself.”
“I know you can. I only want to help.” Carina dragged the sack of flour across the basement floor to the cooking area.
In one corner of the basement at the back of the house, a window opened high on the wall. Parthenia had made a small hearth from closely stacked stones on the concrete floor. Carina was pleased to see that a stack of wood had appeared nearby. Parthenia must have sent the children to gather it while she and Bryce had been gone. Now that the power in the city was out, fire was their only source of warmth and heat for cooking. And of course, naked flames were essential for making elixir.
The wood was very dry and looked like it came from an item of furniture. Dry wood was essential to avoid creating smoke that would choke them in the small room and, worse, alert others to their presence.
Parthenia scooped out a couple of cups of flour into a bowl and stirred in water until the flour clumped into crumbs. Then she clenched together the crumbs to make a ball and began to knead it.
“You look like you know what you’re doing,” said Carina.
“I would watch our chef in the kitchen sometimes, when Father wasn’t home. Cooking looked like fun. I didn’t think I would ever have the chance to do it, though. Father would have had a fit if I’d
told him I wanted to do something as demeaning as create dishes for others.”
Carina picked up a frying pan they had taken from another abandoned home days previously and brushed the dust from it. Oriana was correct in saying they had no fat for frying, but perhaps if they were careful the flour cakes wouldn’t stick. She piled pieces of wood in the hearth and then balanced an iron grid on the stone wall so that it sat over the sticks.
Bryce returned, his hair wet. He invited Nahla and Darius to play cards and sat down with them.
“It’s a shame there’s no Cast for cooking,” Parthenia said. She pulled a piece of dough from her ball and began to flatten it into a disc.
Carina said, “I used to think that too when I had no home. I can understand that it isn’t possible to create food from nothing, but why we can’t transform raw ingredients into cooked, I don’t know. If there is a Cast for that, Nai Nai never let on. She always cooked everything from scratch. Maybe cooking is too complex. Casting seems to only cover simple actions, like Locate, Send, Transport…and Fire.”
She lifted her elixir canister and took a sip of the liquid. The Fire Cast was one of the first Nai Nai had taught her. She concentrated for a moment and wrote the character in her mind. When she opened her eyes, the wood in the hearth was already smoking. A moment later a flame licked up and quickly the rest of the sticks caught alight.
Parthenia put the frying pan on the iron grid and after the pan had warmed for a few moments, she put a circle of uncooked dough into it.
Parthenia’s expression was closed and somber. Carina wondered what she was thinking. Parthenia had spent so much of her life hiding her true feelings out of fear of angering her father, neutral features were a habit.
Carina put a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “Thanks for all your help. We couldn’t do this without you.”
The response Carina received was unexpected.
“Do what, exactly?” Parthenia said tightly as she broke off a second piece of dough and began to roll it between the palms of her hands.