The Fire Thief

by Erin St Pierre

  The monster hidden beneath the mask.

  Rattling bone and leather. That’s what he was. Taller than any man she had ever seen, his brown, stick-like arms hung past his knobby knees. His bony hands, larger than the child he had been only a moment before, scraped against his ankles. Even his ribs and pelvis stuck out sharply beneath his dull, brown hide. His face, twisted in an open-mouthed scream, revealed black, spiky teeth.

  A monster born of nightmares.

  She’d have been utterly defenseless against him.

  Radomir ran his sword through its girth for the second time. The creature toppled to the ground and didn’t move.

  Suren’s hand brushed her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t let you near. It had already caught your scent.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath, only then noticing the cold tears on her chin shed for the beast. She wiped them away with her cloak as Radomir and his soldiers dragged the creature’s body off the path. “What was that?”

  “A Tiyanak,” Suren repeated. He helped her off his horse and walked her back to her mount. “It uses glamour—the wailing child—to lure travelers to it. Then it eats them alive. Or, if they’re lucky, it only forces them into bargains. These woods are full of them.”

  “So that was the threat you’re all worried about?” That seemed unlikely. Radomir and his fae had dispatched the Tiyanak with no difficulty.

  Suren shrugged. “Let me help you mount this time.”

  She was going to reject his offer but saw a trail of blood in the tiny crease beneath his nose. She’d done that, yet he’d saved her. She touched his arm. “Sorry for your face.”

  Suren grunted and wiped the blood away. “It’s nothing. Healed already.” He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her into the saddle.

  Before he walked back to his horse, she grabbed his arm and asked again, “So that’s what you were all worried about? The Tiyanak?”

  Turmoil swirled in Suren’s chocolate-brown eyes. “Stasha, your questions.…”

  So, she was right. The Tiyanak was not the real threat in the forest. If only she knew what the other dangers were, and if they were as terrifying—to her, at least—as the Tiyanak. “I need to know things, Suren. How else will I survive?”

  “It’s my job to make sure you survive. Orders from my captain. I’m to deliver you alive to my king. I can’t do that if a Tiyanak gets you first. Even though we killed this one, it’s no guarantee others weren’t watching. They’ll see you as easy meat.”

  Her blood chilled. “I wouldn’t be stupid enough to fall for that trick again.”

  “And they would know that. They have other glamours to offer. They mold them to suit their prey.” Suren tucked her boot into her stirrup. This time, she didn’t crush his fingers. “But it doesn’t matter. I won’t let anything harm you.”

  Her gaze swept over the fae to settle on Radomir. Legs spread, he stood over the dead Tiyanak, wiping his bloody hands on a cloth. She whispered, “What’s out there is equally as dangerous as what’s right here.”

  Suren followed her gaze, and his lips tightened into a hard line. “There’s only so much I can do, Stasha, but I won’t stand by and let you be maimed. Or … worse. Of that, you have my word.”

  “Thanks. But you wouldn’t even let me eat an apple, so your word counts for squat.” She smiled to rob the words of their sting. “I still need to know what the other threats are.”

  Stone-faced, Suren grunted. “I told you; when it counts, I won’t fail you.”

  She grabbed a handful of his long, dark hair. It was surprisingly soft. “Tell me the dangers, or I swear, I’ll punch you.”

  Suren pulled away, but a smile twitched. “Are you always such a pain in the ass?”

  “You have no idea. And I’m only just getting started.”

  “Had that figured.” Suren stared off into the trees. What he saw, she didn’t know, but finally, he said, “Tiyanak don’t always hunt for food. They also crave favors.”

  So, he was still deflecting. There definitely was something else in this forest the Pyreack fae feared. Could she use their enemy as her friend? Best not expose those thoughts. She feigned interest in the Tiyanak. “What kind of favors?”

  “Usually ugly, terrible things they use to fuel the magic for their glamour.”

  How ugly and terrible did those favors have to be that Pyreack fae were wary of them? And if the Tiyanak liked to bargain, would it consider a deal offered by its “prey”? If anyone needed a favor, it was her. But time for this conversation was running out. Radomir and his soldiers were about to mount their horses.

  Keeping her voice neutral, she asked, “How do they get favors?”

  A long sigh from Suren. “Last question, Stasha. They threaten their prey with death if they don’t agree to bind themselves.” He walked back to his horse.

  She stood up in the stirrups. “What happens if you break a bargain?”

  Suren threw his hands in the air. “I said last question.”

  “But you didn’t mean it. Not really. Because it’ll make it easier for you to keep me alive if I know the threats.”

  Suren looked back at her with open exasperation. “You die, Stasha. That’s what happens if you break a deal. If the Tiyanak doesn’t kill you, the magic will.”

  She fingered her amber pendant as the convoy set off. The way back to Klaus lay in calculating risks and then acting on the best option. Her fate alone in the woods was surely little different to the plans the Pyreack fae had for her. So, no matter how pessimistic Suren may have been about her chances of survival in the forest, she would flee at the first chance she got.

  Four more Tiyanak were slaughtered as the day stretched on. Some appeared as crying children, others as injured stag, but each time, their true nature was exposed through their silver eyes. Almost routinely, Radomir and his fae herded and killed them.

  She wasn’t foolish enough to think dispatching the Tiyanak was as easy as they made it look. Or that Suren was indeed sincere in his promise to protect her from Radomir. What sway did a mere lieutenant hold against his captain—a captain who watched her with icy eyes and lips twisted into a serpentine smile?

  The sky above the tree canopy had finally begun to gray when Radomir pulled his black mount to a halt and ordered his fae to set up camp. And not a moment too soon. Her blistered hands, aching backside, and trembling legs could stand no more riding. She slumped gracelessly out of her saddle and almost wobbled into the mud. Suren grabbed her before she could fall. He looped her chain around his arm. “They’ll set up your tent first.” He pointed to where the tents were being pitched. “And then you can rest.”

  She almost sighed her gratitude, but she’d exposed enough weakness for one day to let on how exhausted she was. She cocked her eyebrow pertly. “So, being my guard dog gets you out of doing chores. You owe me. Big time.”

  Suren chuckled. “No doubt you’ll find ample opportunities to make me pay.” His laughter faded. “Maybe this time you’ll eat when I bring you food.”

  Her stomach roared. “What’s on the menu?” Apart from the apple, she’d eaten nothing all day. Radomir hadn’t stopped for a meal, with each fae munching on nuts and dried fruit to sustain their energy. She’d almost expected Suren to give her a handful of his stash, but he hadn’t. Maybe it was his way of punishing her for doubting him over the apple. If it was, it seemed petty. Or maybe Radomir had forbidden it. That seemed more likely.

  “Suren!” Radomir shouted across the clearing. Suren straightened. His face hardened, and his muscles tensed. Every bit the fae soldier. “Watch her. I’m taking out a hunting team.”

  Suren nodded once. “Yes, Captain.”

  She swallowed hard to bring some moisture to her dry mouth. “What are they hunting?”

  “Stag. Real ones this time, not Tiyanak glamour.” Suren’s fingers brushed her elbow, directing her to the black tent quickly rising from the ground. This wasn’t the palatial monstrosity they’d imprisoned her in the night bef
ore and was only big enough for a bedroll. By the time they reached it, it was ready.

  Finally, an opportunity to escape.

  Suren swept back the tent flap. Face pitiful, she held up her manacled wrist to him. The skin had rubbed raw. Unlike the cut on her cheek from Radomir’s chain attack that had healed almost instantly, an open wound wept under the iron. “Please?”

  Suren shook his head. “You know I can’t.”

  She waved her arms around, clunking the chain. “And just where do you think I’ll go? I’ve seen the Tiyanak. I’m not an idiot, and I don’t have a death wish, no matter how much I’m hating all this.”

  Suren scratched the dark stubble on his jaw. “Stasha.…”

  She’d get nothing from him out here in the open with other fae watching, so she dove into the tent. Joined by the chain, he had no choice but to follow. He knelt on the bedroll next to her.

  She turned pleading eyes on him. “C’mon, Suren. You keep telling me that we’re friends. Friends don’t chain other friends up.”

  Suren scrambled away, putting some distance between them. “I have orders.”

  Time to play on his obvious dislike for Radomir. She flashed her eyes at him. “Stupid, cruel ones. And how will it help if this becomes infected?” She took a guess. “We barely covered fifteen miles today. If I get sick, we’ll be even slower.”

  Suren shook his head. “No. I’ll bring you some salve. With your meal. Eat. Sleep. Tomorrow things will look better.”

  Suren stood to leave, so she tossed her pillow at him.

  “Bastard.”

  Suren smiled—a good-natured one, unlike Radomir’s smirks—and tossed the pillow back at her. “Just as well I have thick skin.” He attached her chain to the tent pole and left her alone.

  She propped the pillow up on her bedroll and slumped down on it, too tired to even think. Just a catnap before dinner. That was all she needed.

  She jerked awake. Moonlight glowed through her tent flap. It had been dusk when she’d shut her eyes. How long had she slept? And where was the food Suren promised? Her eyes fell on a plate of congealed food next to her bedroll. Had Suren even tried to wake her? As much as she despised fae, Suren might have, but in her exhaustion, she’d thwarted his efforts. Even now, she was groggy and barely awake. So what had woken her?

  Movement at the end of her bed. She shot upright.

  Suren sat with his forehead resting on his arms.

  “Still watching me sleep?” she snapped. “I thought we’d already decided that’s just plain creepy.”

  Suren looked up at her, and she gasped. Suren’s brown eyes glinted silver. A Tiyanak.

  No weapons and no idea of how to fight a Tiyanak, she opened her mouth to scream.

  The Tiyanak clamped a hand identical to Suren’s over her lips. It shoved her back onto the bedroll and pressed all its weight on her. “Now, now.” It may have looked like Suren, but its words rasped like a quill on parchment. “The little fae mustn’t be getting upset.”

  Heart pounding wildly, she lifted her fist to punch its side, but her manacled hand refused to move. The Tiyanak must have pulled the chain taut.

  By all the darkness! What now?

  The creature chuckled. “She certainly has fire. Let’s see if she can burn anything yet?” It grabbed her hand and squeezed so hard that fire burst through her palm and fingers. She caught the reek of burnt flesh. And death. The rotten smell exuded by the Tiyanak Radomir had killed.

  But instead of releasing her hand, or flinching, the Tiyanak grinned. “Good, good. The little thing is powerful. Certainly. Very powerful. She is indeed the one we all seek.”

  She sucked in a breath. As disgusting as the creature was—even in Suren’s handsome, lean frame—if it wanted her dead, it would have killed her already.

  So what did it want? To bargain? In that case, she had a deal to offer. Better to speak first, before it tricked her into doing something she didn’t like.

  She shoved the hand covering her mouth and mumbled, “Get off me. I won’t scream. We both want things tonight. And loosen my chain.”

  The silver eyes sparkled. “A wise little thing. Yes, very wise.” The hand fell away. The Tiyanak clinked her chain and then settled back on its haunches. As it shifted, the glamour vanished, revealing the bony, horned, leathery monster beneath Suren’s conjured skin. It took all of her self-control not to scream when it snapped its sharp, black teeth at her. “The little fae says we both want something. Oh yes. That we do. The little fae wants to escape, and I want to give her that favor.” It brushed her face with a bony digit. “So much power. Giving the little fae a favor will bring so much power.”

  She sat up and pulled her knees to her chest. She was opening her mouth to speak when it hissed, “But the little fae must make haste. The fae named Suren will not be gone long.”

  Her heart stuttered. Outside her tent, she caught the distant sound of fae shouting and weapons clanging. Were they under attack?

  “No time. No time,” the creature snapped. “The little fae’s escape already begins to unfold. Say in words what the little fae wants.” It licked its black lips with an even blacker tongue. “And then the Tiyanak can borrow some of the little fae’s power.”

  “Borrow my power?”

  The Tiyanak tsked. “Just for a little glamour.”

  Was that good or bad? But then, what did it matter when she didn’t even know what power she had? Her only goal was to escape back to Klaus. And to kill Radomir, a little voice in the back of her mind added. She gritted her teeth. Indeed.

  The fighting in the forest had intensified, if the yelling and smoke carried on the breeze was anything to go by.

  “Only for an hour,” she said. “And why do I have to ask? You know what I want. Information and freedom.”

  The Tiyanak’s silver eyes flashed, and it rattled its hands together. “The little fae asks two things! Oh my. How happy the little fae has made the Tiyanak!”

  Her hand drifted to her pendant as she realized her mistake—this was no longer a simple trade, some of her power to glamour him in exchange for a favor. Now she had to offer a bargain—one that could kill her if she failed to deliver. But if she withdrew one of her demands, how would she know what she was escaping into? Especially with the pitched battle waging no more than half a mile away, if her ears didn’t deceive her? And why hadn’t Suren appeared to “protect” her? Was he also out fighting whatever had attacked the camp?

  Eyes fixed on the amber, the Tiyanak dropped to its hands and knees and crawled forward. “What will the little fae give for the second thing?”

  She held up her hand to stop his slow encroach. “W-what do you want?”

  The Tiyanak clawed for her pendant. She quickly stuck it back under her dress. “Not that. Something else.” Giving the pendant away would probably have been the easiest thing, but it had been part of her for as long as she’d been alive. And it was somehow connected with the mess she was in now. If she gave it up, she might never discover who or what she was.

  The Tiyanak’s skull wobbled on its bony shoulders. “The little fae is truly wise. She knows.”

  “I do,” she said, lying through her teeth as the sounds of battle drew closer. “So what else do you want from me?” She hated being beholden, but what else could she do?

  “The little fae’s rescue draws ever closer. The Tiyanak will come another day to claim the second favor. Until then, the Tiyanak will borrow the power.” It snatched at the red ribbon in her hair. She lunged her head aside to stop it touching her.

  The creature hissed, and its eyes narrowed.

  Her blood chilled. It wanted Tarik’s ribbon? Tarik’s hope?

  Tarik was dead. His hope had done nothing to save him. But giving up the ribbon could save both Klaus and her. There was little doubt that the Kňazer were punishing him back in Askavol.

  It was time to make her own hope.

  She pulled the ribbon out of her braid and held it out. “It’s yours. Take it.
”

  Nose twitching, the Tiyanak sniffed the ribbon and her hand. Bright-blue saliva coated his lips and dripped on her palm. Its disgusting mouth was literally watering for her. “Black cherries and almonds. Like sweet, sweet wine.” It breathed deeply again, drinking in her smell.

  “Enough,” she snarled, lips pulled back to expose her teeth. “Take it.”

  It lifted the finery from her hand with surprisingly delicate fingers.

  She wiped her hand on the blanket. “Tell me what you know. And make sure it’s worth that ribbon.”

  “The little fae is followed,” the Tiyanak said, baring more teeth than she ever could in a rictus smile. “By a son of Zephyr. He and his companions are in these woods.”

  Averin. Her breath hitched in her dry throat. Was it him fighting Radomir and his soldiers? Her—and the Tiyanak’s—gaze flicked in the direction of the noise. Horses whinnied and hooves clattered through the woods. Leather on crossbows strained and sprang.

  The Tiyanak curled the ribbon around its thin wrist. “Son of Zephyr. Rebels. Pyreack fae. All here. All wanting the little fae.” It swept its bony hand out, and she assumed it meant in the woods.

  “Is that who the Pyreack fae are fighting? Rebels? And Averin?”

  The Tiyanak’s eyes gleamed.

  She held up her hand. “No, wait. Don’t answer. I don’t need more bargains.”

  The creature chuckled, a nasty rasping sound. “Wise. Oh, so wise.” Then it leaped off the bed. “Come.”

  “We’re leaving now?” She tried clambering to her feet but was stopped by her chain.

  The Tiyanak clicked its tongue. Its hand flicked out. A crack, and the chain snapped, leaving her with just the manacle encircling her wrist. It held a bony finger to its black lips and then crept to the back of her tent. She clambered over her bedroll after it. It extended a long, grimy claw and slit a long gash into the canvas. It parted the flaps and gestured for her to climb out.

  “The guards?” she hissed.

  Two silver eyes flashed at her, and the black claw pointed sharply at the slit.

  So she was to have no understanding of the plan? She shrugged her dismay and, terrified, crept out.