Fire Sower

by Callie Kanno

  Idris pointed in the direction of the closest ringing bells. “Go to the building where the bells are ringing. They will give you shelter. Stay inside until you are told it is safe to come out.”

  Idris only waited to see that his father nodded, then he sprinted away. He had to get back to the palace immediately. It was his duty to protect the royal family from whatever danger he might find there.

  Faster, farmer, Iona urged.

  Idris didn’t need her encouragement, but it was difficult for him to move as quickly as he wished.

  The path to the palace was just as chaotic as the marketplace had been. Crowds of people pressed all around Idris, hurrying to get to the safety of their homes without giving much thought to the fifteen-year-old boy trying to push past them. He shouted for them to let him through, but his voice was lost in the shouts and the endless clang of the bells.

  The crowds thinned as he reached the part of Marath that housed the Nobles, and he was able to run the rest of the way to the palace, the pole of his partisan drumming against his back with every step, echoing the panicked thrum of his heart.

  There were no guards at the palace gate, which caused Idris’s stomach to drop in dread. The bells in the city had stopped ringing and Idris could hear the shouts and clangs of fighting echoing through the main entrance of the palace. The idea of having to fight his way to the royal family made him feel physically ill. More than that, it made him want to turn around and run away.

  For all his training, he was just a farmer. He had never before run into danger—especially the kind that involved enemy soldiers intent on killing him. His palms grew sweaty and he rubbed them against his thighs in an attempt to dry them.

  Do not be a coward, farmer, Iona snapped.

  Idris’s chest contracted and he could feel his face flush with shame.

  He was a coward. He could barely keep himself from running to hide.

  Something like a sigh passed through his thoughts, and Iona spoke more gently. Courage does not mean that you are not afraid. Courage is doing what is right in spite of your fears.

  Warmth entered Idris’s heart and he suddenly felt he was no longer frozen in terror. His heart still pounded against his ribs, but he was able to move and think again.

  Instead of going through the main entrance, Idris turned and ran toward the quarters of the Royal Guards, remembering the narrow passage to the royal chambers that Drusi had shown them on that first day—the day that felt like it had happened a lifetime ago.

  His footfalls echoed through the empty rooms of the military compound. There wasn’t a soul in sight. Idris’s legs ached, and every panting breath was painful, but he didn’t slow. He could only think of reaching the young princess whose life was in his hands.

  He raced down the stairs and through the familiar black door that led to the quarters of the Royal Guards. Then he dashed down the hall and through the other black door that led to the secret passage.

  Idris burst into the royal chambers and skidded to a halt. He was facing the sharp points of several drawn weapons.

  “Idris,” gasped Aherin, “I thought an enemy had gotten through. Where have you been? Is your family alright?”

  Idris nodded. “I sent them to find shelter. We were in the central market.” His breath was coming in hard puffs. He pressed his hand to his aching side. His clothing was soaked through with sweat. “How could I be an enemy? They would not be able to get through that door.”

  “Whoever they are, they have brought soldiers that can use magical weapons,” Farah said grimly. “Nowhere in the palace is safe. We must evacuate these rooms and split up the royal family. They cannot be found all together.”

  Jerin was already issuing commands, instructing the Guards where they should take their royal charges. Idris did his best to pay attention, but his mind was a tangle as he tried to make sense of Farah’s words. Enemies in the palace, attacking the royal family using weapons of power. How was any of that possible? How had they gotten past the city guards and the palace guards? Idris hadn’t seen any fighting until he had reached the palace grounds.

  Suddenly, Queen Arminell was before him with Princess Zorina in her arms. She kissed the tear-stained face of the princess and gently transferred the small figure into Idris’s arms.

  “She is all I have,” whispered the queen. Her voice trembled. “My sons belong to their father, but she is mine. She is my only joy. Please, protect her, Idris.”

  Idris stared at the raw terror he saw in the queen’s eyes, and his arms tightened instinctively around Princess Zorina.

  “I will. I promise.”

  As the queen turned away, Idris could hear Hildar asking, “Are you going to unlock our weapons?”

  In answer, Farah handed each of them a simple sword. “You are still more of a danger to yourselves than you are a help to others.”

  Indeed you are, agreed Iona sourly.

  Idris held the sword in one hand and held Zorina with his other arm. The combined weight was a strain on his strength, but he was aided by the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

  With nothing else to be said, the group began to divide and go in different directions. Aherin and Demas led Prince Aribold out through the gardens. Arminell insisted that she rejoin the king, so she and her Guards headed toward the war room. Idris, Hildar, and the guards assigned to the crown prince cautiously opened the door to the main entrance, prepared to fight their way out.

  There was not a soldier to be seen, and the sound of fighting was distant. Roth picked up the crown prince and he and Jerin dashed down the hall. Hildar nudged Idris and started moving in the opposite direction.

  Idris followed, holding the trembling princess close. Her green eyes were wide with fear, but she didn’t cry or speak. She clasped her arms tightly around Idris’s neck. He could feel her shallow, silent breaths.

  The shouts and sounds of metal clashing against metal grew nearer. Hildar ducked into an alcove, and Idris followed, drawing back into the darkness where they wouldn’t be seen.

  “Down this way,” called an unfamiliar voice. “The king has to be near.”

  A small group of soldiers dressed as palace guards trotted past them. Idris knew they must be enemies, despite the uniforms. He held Zorina close and felt the princess bury her face against his neck.

  As soon as the soldiers were past, Idris felt a surge of relief. He slipped out of the alcove and started to hurry in the opposite direction of the enemy soldiers. He turned back to make sure Hildar was following. She was still standing by the alcove.

  “What are you doing?” he hissed. “We need to get out of the open.”

  Hildar’s face was twisted in a look of indecision. “They are going after the king.”

  Idris moved closer to her, not wanting his voice to be heard. “Of course they are. That is why they attacked the palace.”

  “We need to protect him.”

  Idris shook his head. “Hildar, no. Our duty is to get the princess to safety.”

  “Our first duty is to King Nikolas,” Hildar argued in a whisper. “The Royal Guards protecting him will be outnumbered. They will need our help.”

  Idris couldn’t believe his ears. “What are we to do with Zorina? We cannot take her into the fight like that.”

  Hildar’s expression began to harden as she made her choice. “Find a place to hide her. She can stay out of sight until it is safe.”

  “No,” Idris said, refusing to yield.

  “Our first duty is to the king,” Hildar repeated as she turned away.

  “Hildar, wait,” Idris called desperately, but she was already running after the enemy soldiers.

  Zorina’s small arms tightened around him. “Idris, do not leave me,” she whispered, her voice tiny and terrified.

  His hold on her tightened in return. “I will not leave you, little one. But we need a place to hide.”

  A new sense of panic began rising in him. He was on his own, and he hardly knew his way around the palace. H
ow would he find a safe place for the princess?

  “That way,” Zorina whispered, pointing towards the next alcove down. “There is a secret staircase that leads up to the water tower.”

  Idris didn’t pause to question the girl. He moved quickly and silently toward the alcove and immediately scanned the small space for the promised stairs.

  “Behind the tapestry,” she clarified.

  Idris looked around to make sure they were alone, and then he lifted up the edge of the tapestry. As promised, there was an opening in the wall with a spiral staircase leading upward.

  Idris adjusted his hold on Zorina and slipped behind the woven covering. He took the stairs two at a time. He realized as they ascended that this was one of the decorative towers of the Water Palace. Although it was designed to be awe-inspiring from the outside, the interior was purely functional, so it was filled with exposed beams, machinery, and thick pipes, as well as an enormous water tank.

  Zorina pointed to the tank. “That is what makes the river,” she explained simply.

  Idris gave her a reassuring smile. “Well done, your highness. No one will find us here.”

  He set her down and stretched his tired arm as he did a quick sweep of the room. There was nothing too dangerous, assuming Zorina knew to keep away from the machinery. There was a spot next to the top of the stairs that was ideal for standing guard. The position also provided a view of the outside through some decorative openings in the tower face.

  “I am going to stand here, your highness,” Idris said to the girl. “I will keep you safe. You can play, if you wish, but keep away from the water tank and the pumps.”

  Zorina walked to Idris and sat down by his feet. “I do not feel like playing. I will stay by you.”

  He crouched down beside her and stroked her auburn hair, just as he would have if Adwen had been frightened. “It will be fine,” he reassured her. “The Royal Guards will defeat the attackers, and then we will find the queen.”

  “Mommy is safe?” Zorina asked, looking up at him with complete trust in her eyes.

  Idris hesitated. “Palti and Farah will do everything in their power to keep her safe.”

  She nodded, content with his answer. Then she began tracing the designs in her embroidered dress with her finger and humming softly to herself. Idris straightened and turned his gaze out the narrow window. He tried to get some sense of where he was in the palace.

  The window looked out on what appeared to be a courtyard of some sort, but Idris didn’t recognize it. As he searched for something familiar, he heard a distant shout from below. A group of soldiers ran across the courtyard with their weapons drawn. Idris realized: The king. This must be near the war room.

  Idris couldn’t tell at first whether the soldiers were friend or foe. But then he saw Drusi move into his field of vision from the opposite direction. Her halberd flashed in the sunlight.

  The soldiers rushed to attack her, but she did a rapid spin. Bolts of lightning shot out of her weapon, fanning out in every direction. More than half of the soldiers dropped to the ground and didn’t stir again.

  Idris watched a glow gather around Drusi. She began moving faster than humanly possible. A streak of light followed her movements as she seemingly disappeared from one spot and reappeared yards away. Her halberd flashed as it swung and stabbed, and soon Drusi was standing alone among the dead.

  Idris had never seen anything so powerful, and it sent a thrill through him. This was what it meant to be a Royal Guard. This was the power that they possessed. He would have shouted and cheered for Drusi if he hadn’t been hiding with the princess.

  It took Idris a moment to notice that Drusi didn’t appear to be ready to celebrate. In fact, she stood as though she was preparing to fight another enemy.

  An instant later, that enemy burst into Idris’s sight with a shower of exploding earth. The man had a war hammer, which he slammed against the dirt, sending the ground under Drusi flying.

  Drusi would have been thrown into the air as well, but she disappeared with a streak of light, reappearing out of harm’s way.

  Idris’s gaze was locked on the battle in the courtyard. His heart raced with a mixture of excitement and fear.

  Drusi jabbed her halberd in the direction of her enemy and a bolt of lightning shot out of the spike on the end. The man was thrown backward and crashed into the ground. Although the other soldiers had fallen dead after such an attack, this man seemed only stunned.

  Idris watched Drusi move toward the man to follow up with another attack, but before she could strike a sphere of earth rose up around the man like a stone shield. The courtyard flashed as Drusi sent bolt after bolt of lightning, hammering the shield as she moved closer.

  Suddenly, the earthen sphere heaved upward, and Idris could see the man meant to crush Drusi. He nearly called out to her, but the she leapt out of its path just in time. The sphere cracked as it struck the ground, and Idris saw the enemy’s arm rise out of it. He saw the war hammer, watched as the man hurled it toward Drusi, who was still on the ground. It struck her in the side. Idris could hear her scream of pain ring through the courtyard.

  Idris took a step toward the window as if he could help somehow, but he felt Princess Zorina shudder and wrap her small arms around his leg. He sat down next to her and put his arm around her shoulders.

  “It will be alright,” he said gently, though he wasn’t certain if he believed his own words.

  Whoever it was who had planned this attack, they had been clever enough to get past the palace guards and close to the king. If Drusi was in the courtyard fighting it meant King Nikolas was in immediate danger.

  The enemy soldiers had at least one warrior among them who was skilled in using a weapon of power. How could Idris possibly defend against that? Iona was still locked in his holder because he could barely use her during training, let alone during a crisis. How much protection could he really offer the princess?

  Zorina looked up at him with complete trust in her eyes, and it made Idris feel like he had lied to her. A dozen horrible scenarios flashed through his mind, all of them involving his failure to keep her safe.

  He fervently wished again that Hildar hadn’t left them alone. At least she showed some aptitude as a Royal Guard, whereas he…

  Do not worry, farmer. I will not let you fail.

  Idris was surprised by the sincerity in Iona’s tone. Her words didn’t feel like an insult to Idris’s abilities, but simply a promise that she would help make up for his weaknesses. It comforted Idris to feel that he wasn’t alone in defending Zorina.

  Idris stood to glance out the window again, but Drusi and the man with the war hammer were nowhere to be seen. He was relieved that he didn’t see her lying among the fallen enemies. He settled back down next to the young princess and gripped the hilt of his sword tightly.

  It seemed like days before the sounds of fighting died down, even though Idris knew it must have only been a few hours. Zorina sat with more patience than most children her age would have been able to manage. She leaned up against him and played with a lock of her auburn hair.

  More time passed, and finally the bells rang out once more, signaling to the citizens of Marath that the forces of King Nikolas the Bold had prevailed.

  Zorina looked up at him when she heard the bells. “Are we safe now, Idris?”

  He smoothed her hair back from her face and nodded. “Yes, your highness. We are safe.”

  Idris led the way down the spiral staircase, holding his sword at the ready. He knew he couldn’t let his guard down until he had the princess safely back in the royal quarters.

  They reached the bottom of the stairs and Idris motioned for Zorina to wait quietly for his return. Then he slipped out from behind the tapestry and carefully looked around.

  Wall hangings had been torn and statuettes had been smashed. Broken glass from several of the windows was scattered on the floor, and furniture had been overturned. Idris was amazed by the change that had taken place
in so short a time.

  No one was in their immediate vicinity, but there were some servants further down the hall who had begun cleaning up the mess left from the fighting.

  “You may come out now, your highness,” Idris called softly.

  Zorina stepped into the alcove and glanced around. “They have broken my home,” she said sadly as she observed the damage that had been caused. She walked over to where a marble figurine of a horse lay broken in two, and she touched it with a forlorn expression on her small face.

  Together they walked back in the direction of the royal quarters. They had to make some small detours to avoid heavily damaged areas, but everything else seemed as though it was more or less back to normal. The servants they passed looked shaken and overwhelmed, but they smiled joyfully and bowed to the princess. It was clear that they were glad that she was safe.

  When Idris and Zorina arrived at the rooms of the royal family, the other Royal Guards and their charges were already there.

  Queen Arminell spotted them first, and she rushed forward to embrace her daughter. “You are safe! Oh, my sweet one, you are safe.”

  For the first time since she’d been placed in Idris’s arms, Zorina began to cry.

  “Mommy, I was so frightened,” she sobbed.

  The queen held her child close and murmured comforting words into her ear. Idris left them, feeling he should give them some privacy, and joined the other Royal Guards.

  He could see that all of the other Guards were injured in one way or another. Hildar was holding a blood-soaked cloth to her head, and Aherin had a deep gash on his cheek. Palti was binding up Demas’s wrist with a strip of cloth, while Roth inspected some burns on Jerin’s arm.

  Idris marveled that he had been spared. He gave his comrades a shaky smile, but all of them looked grave. He was about to ask Drusi to tell him how her fight ended, but the king stood and started to speak.

  “Well,” said King Nikolas softly. “It appears that our fortunate farmer has graced us with his presence. And not a scratch on him, lucky fellow.”

  There was something about the way the king spoke that made Idris’s blood run cold. He felt as though he was standing trial, but he didn’t know the crime he was accused of committing.