by CJ Brightley
BOOM! A thunderous noise made the guards jump and look about wildly. I aimed my thumbs, and fake fire leaped toward the sky.
The men dashed into the alley several steps, peering upward and exclaiming in shock.
Kee sped up behind them and slipped inside the door.
I leaped up and caught hold of the tiled rain gutter on the roof, swung up, my tail twitching hard in an effort to help me balance. I scrambled over the curved red tiles of the roof to the ridgepole, and lay flat so I could peer inside just as Kee entered the courtyard. I was about to slip down and join her when my sense of unease resolved into two facts.
One: the guards had stood before an unlocked door.
Two: no one waited in that courtyard.
Trap? Let’s see.
I made a shimmer of myself landing in the dirty courtyard. My shimmer-self looked around, then swaggered toward the corner room where Hlanan was supposedly kept.
Tir! Go to Hlanan. Be my eyes—
The bird’s wings fluttered, and as the white shape spiraled down into the courtyard, I wondered if the prisoners had been removed while Tir was trying to find us. Kee eyed my shimmer-self doubtfully, then moved to join.
The corner door opened, and two more guards stalked out.
Kee went into action. I made fireworks to divert the guards; one soon lay stunned, clipped efficiently behind his skull, and the other ran off somewhere.
Kee and Tir sped inside the door, me trying to shut out the starburst of Tir’s happiness at the sight of Hlanan lying on the floor. They’d stripped him of his scribe robe, and he lay there filthy in his plain shirt and trousers, hands bound tightly behind him, legs bound as well, a manacle affixed to his wrists as well as the ropes, and bolted to the wall. The back of his shirt had been cut with a knife, exposing some kind of symbol tattooed on his shoulder-blade.
Hlanan looked up, his expression miserable. “Get out,” he said hoarsely. “Now. It’s a trap.”
Then an inner door opened, and, flanked by a dozen guards with their weapons at the ready, Geric Lendan lounged in, smiling a bright welcome.
15
“Seize the thief,” Lendan commanded, pointing at my shimmer-self.
The shimmer-me clapped its hands and disappeared in a shower of sparks.
The warriors who’d started forward, weapons drawn, fell back in confusion.
What now? What now?
I grabbed the necklace.
Faryana! Help me do magic to get rid of these reekers?
I must know exactly what you are doing and why. And I must have your vow not to harm any living—
“Secure them,” Lendan shouted at his troops, pointing toward Kee and Hlanan. “The Hrethan thief is somewhere about. We’ll kill these two unless she surrenders now.”
Kee crouched, ready to attack. Good as she was, I knew she’d be no match for the dozen or so battle-scarred veterans who advanced menacingly. As for Hlanan, he just lay there in those ropes and chains, his face—still seen through the bird’s eyes—pale and hopeless.
I fumbled at my turban, and smacked the whistle so that it touched against my forehead. I need magic help—
Here’s a fire spell, was the instantaneous reply. The voice carried warning, and beneath it, that ever-present hint of amusement. You’d better be able to hold it, or it will consume you.
Then words flowed into my mind, a kind of chant that caused my head to buzz and my hands tingled unpleasantly with heat. As I spoke the words, the sensations of burning and buzzing intensified, my grasp on here-and-now expanding to encompass the stream of bright fire entering my mind.
The end of the spell was difficult to get out because my thoughts rode high in a fierce wind, my mental-image hands gripping twin spears of lightning. The wind and the light raced headlong through a weird night sky, pulling power in streamers from the stars. Time dissolved into meaninglessness, drawing me outward as I struggled to control the heat and the wind and the wheeling stars.
Hrethan!
That was Tir. I found the aidlar, and held on desperately.
My mind spiraled down from the invisible skies, and there was my body, small and fragile. I poured back into it, and as I did, I recovered sense and sound and sight: my head ached, my hands stung as I gripped the roof tiles, the smell of smoke burned my lungs. I remembered Hlanan. I remembered Kee.
I opened my eyes. Swords and knives rounded the two in a fence of steel. I moved . . .
So slow! But if I cast my mind free I can grasp the sun and the stars . . .
I tried to move, but the now had stretched out into eternity. My hands were heavy as stone, vibrating with the sparking white light. My eyes lifted for an instant—and again I was riding through the sky, faster and faster, trailing light like a comet . . .
Hrethan!
Again Tir called me back, mind to mind, and this time I forced my eyes open and used all my strength, straining in every muscle, to clap my hands together.
Thunder rocked the building. Everyone below me staggered, and the warriors looked up fearfully. Aiming my thumbs, I sent spears of light to divide Lendan from Kee and Hlanan. Fire lanced down from my fingers and scorched the stone floor, one bolt almost at Geric’s feet, the other striking the chain connecting Hlanan to the wall. Red sparks exploded outward, and the air filled with the smell of molten metal.
The men stampeded, Geric following, yelling for them to halt, to pick up their weapons. His face, blanched and determined, turned this way and that, until his chin lifted and he saw me sitting astride the ridgepole.
“There’s the thief,” Lendan roared. “Bring her down.”
I sent another blast of flame. This bolt splashed up a wall, starting a blaze that spread hungrily over the old wood. Each time I used the lightning, more surged in me, pulling at my mind and promising speed and wind and a universe of suns . . .
I laughed, and played with Lendan’s warriors, sending bolts among them until they had scattered fearfully hither and yon.
Geric alone stood his ground, and I saw his mouth moving: he was doing magic.
A distant sense of alarm steadied me. I aimed a bolt directly at him—and he leaped aside. Flames shot skyward, orange and blue and bright, from the place he’d been standing. Smoke plumed up.
Hrethan? The cry held a note of despair.
Tir?
Another voice whispered to me to ignore the bird. I shut out that voice. Hlanan and Kee were in danger. I had promised to back Kee up. I had promised the aidlar that I would free Hlanan. I—barely—controlled the torrent of light and heat within me. In moments, in moments, if I didn’t do something . . . I’d fly apart . . .
“Get us out,” Kee’s voice caught my ear, tiny against the rush of wind singing through my veins.
Need pulled my focus back into this world.
I spread my fingers and gave them a pathway bordered with killing light. Kee had gotten Hlanan’s feet free, and he stumbled, leaning heavily on her, but he was upright. They lurched and swayed into the courtyard then through the open door.
Then I lost sight of them, but the urgent need to save them was gone. Fire crackled nearby and a haze of red smeared my vision. Smoke boiled around me, but I scarcely heeded it. I had kept my promise. Now I could glory in the power and fire streaming faster and faster through my mind. I could hold it, I could! Bigger and brighter, I just had to spread farther, and faster . . . the lightning spread into a vast storm, sucking me into its vortex . . .
The deepest instinct of all, self-preservation, forced me to throw my hands skyward, and lightning crackled high into the clouds. Somehow I got my inner eyelid closed, and the magic fled, leaving me spent.
I collapsed back on the roof, shaking weakly.
Ghostly, mocking laughter caused me to use my last remaining strength to shove that whistle back into my turban so it didn’t touch my flesh.
“Lhind? Lhind?”
The voices came from the street.
Wearily I forced my eyes open.
“Come! Come!
” Tir whirred right above me, wings fanning my face.
Forcing my limbs to move, I got to the edge of the roof and rolled off, confident in my usual ability to alight in balance—and I was stunned when the filthy street met my face. Hands grasped my armpits, pulling me up. Somehow my feet fumbled under me, and while the world spun nastily in front of my dimming eyes, my body moved between two supporting hands until, at last, I slid into welcoming darkness.
o0o
“Lhind.”
The word reached me from a great distance.
“Drink this.”
I moved ice-numb lips, and felt warmth trickle down the cold well inside me. With the warmth came awareness, in slow and painful increments. I was lying on a hard surface, and I ached in every muscle and bone.
“Again, Lhind. A little more this time.”
Obediently I swallowed. More warmth spread into arms, legs, hands, fingers, toes. I opened my eyes, and took in a long breath.
Kee’s face, smeared with dirt and troubled in expression, hovered over me. Opposite her was Hlanan’s equally dirty face. His tired brown eyes were steady, his mouth a thin line.
“We’re alive,” I croaked. “Good. But I’m hungry,” I added, making another discovery.
Kee looked relieved. “I’ll fetch the bread.” Her head swung away.
Hlanan smiled at me. “We’re alive. You almost left us, though.”
My eyes and lips moved, but not much else. “You tied me up again?”
“Again?” he repeated, puzzled, then his eyes narrowed in a kind of rueful laugh. “Oh. Rajanas’s yacht. Does that seem a lifetime ago to you, too? No,” he went on. “You’re just desperately weak.”
“Are we safe?” I asked. “Geric?”
“We’re safe enough for now,” he said, but his expression sobered again. “Drink.” He slid his hand beneath my head to lift it, his gaze watchful.
Such a simple movement, the kind of thing anyone might do for another. Humane, we call it, thought ‘human’ can mean so many terrible things as well as good. A humane gesture that made me aware of his palm cupping the back of my head, each finger supporting my skull. The way his thumb avoided pressing against my ear, instead resting gently against the line of my jaw. I didn’t have a word for how it made me feel, except both good . . . and unsettled.
I shut my eyes as a cup gently bumped my lip. This time I tasted the tea that I swallowed. It was strong, with a heady summer-herb scent. My fingers and toes tingled pleasantly, and the warmth stayed with me enough to enable me to make an effort to rise, to sit on my own. I heard the shift of cloth as Hlanan moved away. With him went that sense of being unsettled.
“Here’s some fresh bread,” Kee said, appearing again at my shoulder, her manner—shoulders hunched, gaze averted—embarrassed.
“I know,” I whispered. “You stole it.”
She grinned, blushing, as Hlanan gave a quiet chuckle. “I didn’t dare risk being questioned,” she said with a look at Hlanan. “But it had to be me who went out. Prince Geric sent out search parties.”
“I’m all right,” I said, annoyed at my weakness; when I raised a hand, a sharp smell assailed my nostrils, making me sneeze. “Ugh!” I dropped flat again. “What’s that stink? Is this place on fire?”
“You,” Kee said. “Or rather, your clothes. They were smoking when you dropped down off that burning roof.”
“That’s how we managed to get away,” Hlanan murmured. “The fire you caused had spread to three streets, enabling us to lose ourselves in the general panic.”
“Here. Have some bread,” Kee said. “I’ll help you sit.”
Hlanan studied the empty cup in his hands while Kee slid business-like hands under my armpits and eased me to a sitting position. I munched on Kee’s bread, which was still hot from the oven. Halfway through my second piece, Hlanan gave me a troubled glance. “Can you perform transfer magic?”
“Ugh,” I muttered. “I don’t think I could do the smallest shimmer right now. And the only thing I can move is air. I told you that before.”
“You told me a lot of things,” Hlanan said gently, getting to his feet. “There ought to be plenty of rainwater in the cistern by now. I’ll brew more tea.”
He doesn’t believe me anymore. It hurt, and I had no defense against that kind of pain. Intensifying the pain was the sense of moral outrage—I’d saved him. How dare he . . . what? Not be grateful? Question me? What did he actually owe me?
Kee held out another bite of bread, but I waved it off as questions I’d never considered before insisted on worming their way through my muddy, shocky mind. Physical awareness was returning slowly; I heard a deep, intermittent rumbling of thunder, and realized I’d been hearing it since I woke.
It was time to get up. I pushed myself up onto my elbows. My vision swam sickeningly for a short time, then slowly righted itself. I saw we were in some kind of room with dirt on the floor and a low ceiling. It was lit by a fire a little distance away. All around us piled rubbish made a fence. “Where are we?”
“Close by. Neither of you were able to move far,” Kee said. “We’re in a cellar under an abandoned building. I went back and got a flame from your fire, which we set to these rotting timbers here. He found the rain cistern and I found the cups and the pot in the debris upstairs, and that’s my good Mist-flower leaf. Gran thought we might need it to revive us on long marches.” She touched her pack. “Luckily they didn’t get mine. You must have left yours on the roof.”
“Hate to lose that cloak,” I said. “I’m cold.”
“Here. Take mine.” Kee pulled hers out and cast it over me. “The Scribe says to expect fever,” she went on. “Something to do with that magic you did.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what to think about that.”
“Me either,” I admitted. “Never done it before.”
I hadn’t thought Hlanan, who was out of sight, could hear me. His voice startled me when he said, “We’ll need to be gone from here soon. I hear footsteps overhead more often now. Poor sods,” he added. “Lendan must be angry indeed, to force them to keep searching through that storm.”
“How long did I sleep?”
“Since yesterday,” Kee said. “It’s late in the night now. The Scribe only woke a little while ago himself.” She looked troubled again.
Hlanan appeared, sitting down with a steaming pot. The grimy, torn loose sleeves fell back, revealing lacerated wrists. “Drink up. We all need it.” He poured tea while overhead, an tremendous crash of thunder boomed and rattled. Dust sifted down onto us from the timbers. Hlanan glanced up, and shook his head a little. Then he looked at us and said, “Meanwhile we must discuss what comes next.”
“I know what I have to do,” Kee said. “Gran is counting on me. If the Prince of Alezand is still a captive, I still need to get to the Empress as quick as possible, and tell her what’s happened in our principality.”
“I don’t know if he is or not,” Hlanan said. “I was drugged with liref leaves until we reached Fara Bay, and I don’t remember much of anything after the last time I saw Lhind.” He gave me an odd look.
My face burned. “I didn’t do anything,” I protested. “That Steward was the one who put the herbs in your punch. He was bribed by Lendan. I just escaped being snaffled by that nasty Geric myself.”
“I know,” Hlanan made haste to say. “What confuses me is why Lendan contrived this plot just to trap you. Because that’s why he brought me here, as bait for a trap for you.”
Because I stole his diamond-and-whistle prisons, I thought, but things had become so very unsettled between Hlanan and me that I did not want to talk about them. Did I still have them?
My fingers moved instinctively to touch the diamonds at my throat, and I saw both Hlanan and Kee watching. They think the diamonds are just diamonds. They don’t know about Faryana. But they won’t believe the whistle is just a whistle.
I pulled the sash from my head, and they watched my hair lift and swirl about my shoulders. Surr
eptitiously I dug amid the folds of the filthy sash, then relaxed I felt the familiar hard shape of the whistle.
Hlanan said to Kee, “You might have a chance to get away if you can manage to board a ship. I shall try the same. Lendan will have the roads watched, I’m sure, but even he cannot suborn the Harbormaster, who answers only to the Faran king. Do you speak any Faran, and have you any coin?”
“A few words of Faran, and not much coin,” Kee admitted. “Just what my grandmother gave me against my stay in the Empress’s capital, which is supposed to be terribly expensive. I can work, though,” she stated firmly.
“What shipboard skills do you have?” Hlanan returned.
“None.”
“What about me?” I protested.
“What about you?” Hlanan asked.
His emphasis was on the ‘about.’ In other words, I was surprised that I was not included in their planning—and Hlanan was surprised I expected to be included. At least, that was the impression he was conveying with his tone and his quizzical smile. His gaze, however, stayed watchful.
Whether covered in mud or silks, I was incapable of being subtle. “You don’t want me? Is that it?”
“What do you want to do?” Hlanan countered.
Kee sat quietly as she studied her tea.
“What’s going on here?” I demanded. “Here’s me, practically crisped from nose to toes in order to spring you from somebody I’d not started the quarrel with—and no mention of reward—yet you act like I’ve just stabbed you in the gizzard when you weren’t looking.”
“I haven’t forgotten, and I’m grateful,” Hlanan said soberly. “Very. But I also remember you declaring your preference to be free of such things as loyalty, or truth. I can’t argue with you anymore. I can’t even out-spell you, since your magic is obviously much stronger than mine, though I studied for several years. I accept that you’ll do whatever you want to.”
He did not sound contemptuous or even accusing, just . . . tired. Disappointed.
I sat there with the bread forgotten in my hand, once again hurt by a weapon I could not see, could not even name.