The Fireblade Array: 4-Book Bundle

by H. O. Charles

  “I see you found your other gale sword,” he said jovially.

  “Yes-” she refrained from mentioning Morghiad’s name. Was Morghiad here, in this strange world? “-it was in the Kemeni mountains.”

  The general chuckled quietly. “You remember some things, at least.”

  Artemi watched the strange,

  blue-gold soldiers as they passed. She was sure she recognised several of the faces, but from her present rather than her past. It was almost as if... as if Acher’s assault on Gialdin had never happened. “Hedinar?”

  “Yes, Lieutenant Fireblade.” He always used to emphasise her title when he thought she was being too informal and unruly.

  Artemi grinned at him in amusement. “King Acher failed when he tried to attack the city, didn’t he?”

  “Attack? Temi, Acher’s dead.”

  “Oh?”

  Hedinar sighed. “Ah, sometimes I feel bad about it. But he threatened to have Med quenched. You know that sort of talk makes me angry.”

  “You killed him?”

  He stopped and turned to face her. “Yes. You were there. The duel at the border...”

  Artemi did remember them duelling. She remembered the low light and small crowd of watchers. She remembered the whispering trees and whisking swords. Hedinar had won that day, but had only left his opponent with a few cuts and wounded pride. She also remembered Medea’s explosive temper when she found out

  about the fight. That had been well before Alliah’s arrival. “And after you... killed him... what happened to Calidell?”

  “Broken up. Listen, I don’t know what you’ve been getting into, girl, but it’s left you even more peculiar than your usual self.” He started walking again. “Some sleep will see you right.”

  Artemi doubted that. “Where is Medea?”

  “Visiting the wielders in Graften. She’ll be back in a few days.”

  “And...” Oh, how was she to ask this? “Ah...” She fumbled the name in her mind. “Your... son? Is he...?” Her voice trembled oddly.

  “Morghiad? Yes, yes. He’ll be back tonight or tomorrow. Blazes knows patrolling seems to be the only responsibility he’ll take to.”

  Artemi very nearly leapt for joy and yelled out of excitement, but managed to keep her outward response to a small grin. He was alive here! And he’d known a childhood with his parents! What perfect world was this? The thought triggered something, a very ancient memory. It was something one of the Law-keepers had said to her once: A multitude of possibilities can

  exist in a multitude of places. Worlds created by different decisions. But then... if she had left Gialdin and Morghiad had stayed here, her children would not exist. A whither of frost coursed up her spine. “This is not my world, Hedinar.”

  “What?”

  Alliah, who’d been following them in silence, leaned in to examine her again. Artemi batted her hands away. “Look. The Artemi you knew was me, but I am not her. Unless I’m very much mistaken, where I come from, you didn’t kill Acher in that duel. And everything afterwards was very

  different.”

  His forehead wrinkled.

  “I can prove it.” She withdrew her engagement dagger from her thigh holster, flipped it, and handed the hilt to Hedinar.

  He blinked as he examined it, and withdrew his own identical blade. “This is Medea’s work... How...?”

  “It is the same dagger, but from a world where a different set of possibilities played out. Somehow, I don’t know how, I ripped a hole from my world to this one. And presumably there is another Artemi somewhere in this world: the one that died fifteen

  years ago.” She hoped she was right, or she’d have no hope of seeing her babies again. But Morghiad... perhaps she could borrow him?

  Hedinar handed the dagger back to her. “Is this some sort of ruse cooked up by you and my wife?”

  Artemi shook her head. “What would be the point of that?”

  He sighed. “Coming from anyone else, I’d think they were mad or lying. But you... with you it’s possible.” He watched her re-sheathe the weapon. “How did you come by that? It’s not really something I’d oh.” Realisation spread across his

  features. “I’m dead?”

  Artemi tried to think up an excuse, but failed. She nodded slowly.

  Alliah piped up then, “How?”

  “Acher razed this city to the ground in 3192. He killed just about everyone in it, myself included.”

  “That’s impossible!” the general scoffed.

  Artemi shook her head. “So we thought.” She started walking towards her old rooms, or where she thought she remembered them being.

  Hedinar’s voice was firm, though anyone who knew him well would have heard the waver in it. “But the kids - they survived, surely?”

  Eye contact with Alliah was impossible, no matter how hard she tried. “Morghiad lived.” Artemi quickened her pace. “That is another world. Not this one. You don’t need to hear of it.”

  “Wait,” Hedinar said in his commander’s voice. She’d never realised quite how similar it sounded to her husband’s. Artemi ignored it. “Lieutenant Fireblade!” She ignored him again, but could hear him muttering behind her. The sound of Alliah’s footsteps gradually faded as Hedinar’s became more apparent.

  “Blasted girl! You never listen!” He stamped to enunciate his point. “Tell me what happened. At least... let me give you a message to take back to my son. You can go back, surely? He could only have been small when I died...”

  “He was four.” Her emotions were beginning to get the better of her. “Four. Of course. But he deserves to know his father – and Med. She’d want to write to him, too. Maybe

  Alliah...”

  Artemi turned to him. Tears were fighting to escape from her eyes; her throat felt tight. “Hedinar, you

  can’t. He... he was killed a year ago. I’m sorry. Please let me rest. I need to think about what to do next. And then then I promise I will tell you everything.” She hated the expression she saw on his face then. The typically strong and fearless man looked distraught, genuinely hurt. She took his arm and squeezed it. “I’m sorry. But you are so lucky here... to be alive. You did the right thing in killing Acher. You truly did.” Exhaustion weighed heavily upon her, and she found herself leaning heavily upon him. Her fatherin-law. Blazes!

  She stumbled to her old rooms,

  which were exactly as she remembered: small and plain. Hedinar had barely drawn the blanket across her before she fell into a very deep, very dark sleep. As had become the case in the last year, it was haunted by memories of the battle at Cadra. So many soldiers had died because of her actions: Hirrahan men, but men nonetheless. Sometimes she saw their faces, or heard their screams – felt their bones snap beneath her. True enough, they had marched into battle knowing there was a chance they would not live, but they could never have foreseen the manner of their deaths. Many more

  Calidellians would have eventually died if the Hirrahans had lived, but that did not sate the hunger of her guilt. Morghiad’s death was surely her punishment. She deserved every drop of sorrow that his loss had brought. When she awoke the sky was black and stars sparkled at her through the window. Could Tallyn and Medea see those same stars, or Kalad? The thought hurt too much for her to dwell upon, and she locked it in a box alongside the monster. Mentally, she kicked the monster’s box for good measure. Artemi swung her legs onto the floor and stood slowly. Most of her strength had returned. That was good. She re-attached her weapons, taking care over the engagement dagger, and opened her creaking door to the hallway beyond. Dozens of fire lamps lit the crystalline corridor, as warm as her memories of this place. Artemi ambled down them slowly, listening to the soft sounds of flickering flames and breathing in the floral scents so native to the palace. She ran her fingers along the white wall. Cool and glassy and fire-full. She was headed to Hedinar’s old offices, or where she remembered them being.

  It wasn’t long before a dark

  figure became
visible at the next junction. He was tall like Hedinar, but dark-haired and with a black cloak that brushed the floor. The lamplight filtered around him timidly, as if he’d somehow directed it to make him appear darker. He was examining one of his blades for damage. But, of course, Artemi didn’t care about that. “Lieutenant Fireblade,” he said as he looked up, emerald eyes flashing. “I thought that was your stream. Someone mentioned you were b-” Morghiad’s sentence was cut short as Artemi planted her lips firmly onto his, and her arms wound tightly

  about his neck. Flames, those beautiful, terrifying flames tore through their contact and down through her body. It set her alight a thousand times over. And blazes, how she’d missed his scent! She pushed him against the wall without thinking, and held him even tighter. How desperately she had longed for him! All was forgiven! The short-sword he’d been holding fell to the ground with a clatter.

  But he didn’t squeeze her back. In truth, he hadn’t even made an effort to reach for her power. Artemi terminated their kiss and moved back to examine him. His face was as

  idealised as she’d remembered, though the expression on it was a new one. His eyes were wide, blinking.

  They stared at each other in silence for several, very awkward moments, and the truth was slow to dawn on her. Clearly, in this world, she and he had never been lovers.

  She stepped back and attempted to manufacture an apology, “Ah... I... um.” She cleared her throat. “I... ah.” Artemi took a deep breath as she reclaimed his dropped weapon and handed it back to him. “Sorry.” It was the best she could do. She turned and made to leave.

  “Wait.” Bloody Achellon, but that voice could command her in any world! His hand caught hers, sending Blaze echoes in torrents that bore their way up her arm and called her to him.

  She spun quickly. Her stomach had twisted into a tangle of nightmares, her cheeks flushed with severe embarrassment. But he didn’t seem to register her expression or reaction at all. Morghiad moved with his unique sort of rapidity, bundling her into a nearby room and shutting the door. He grabbed her roughly, pulled her close and forced a kiss of his own on her still-burning lips. This time he drew

  heavily on her fires, taking everything he could from her. She leapt onto him, and wound her legs about his waist while she revelled in the feeling of having his arms around her once more. It was only a matter of seconds before they were on the floor, and their swords clanged sonorously against the glassy surface.

  A noise in the corridor outside interrupted them. Artemi held herself motionless, though she was breathing harder than she would have liked. Morghiad still had his arms around her and, fires of Achellon, that felt good!

  “I said I would meet my father

  here. That’s probably him.”

  Her heart stopped. This would not be a good situation to be caught in. “I should... stay in here while you go,” she whispered.

  The kahr shook his head. “I’ve wielded a few forms in here as well as the partition. He’ll smell it a mile away.”

  She hadn’t noticed him do it, but the room glittered with an assortment of Blaze things. “Fine. We were... practising.”

  “Practising.” He stood and helped her up. “Your hair is...” He grinned. “Allow me.” Morghiad

  attempted to bring some sort of order to it, but was evidently unimpressed with his efforts.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said as she drew her fingers through the tangle of reddish waves. “I’ll just take a seat over here.” Artemi placed herself regally upon a straight-backed chair and attempted to look as innocent as possible. Her heart was thundering around inside her chest, and the trickle of adrenaline had her struggling to subdue her shakes. The kahr’s reaction was difficult for her to interpret, but he went on to rearrange his various weapons and then opened the door.

  “There you are!” came Hedinar’s voice. “You could try being on ti- Light of... that’s a lot of Blaze!” He walked in, rapidly spying Artemi in her assumed chair. “Hmm. I see you’re feeling better, Lieutenant Fireblade.”

  “Much recovered, thank you.”

  “Good. Come with me. Both of you.” With that the general turned and paced away.

  Morghiad and Artemi exchanged rapid glances, but swiftly did as the man commanded. She almost laughed aloud once they started walking, however. It had been very long since she’d last felt like such a mischievous

  teenager. The kahr occasionally threw her an inquisitive glance, but she only responded once by reaching over to squeeze his bottom. After all, it was an act that those long, flowing cloaks were designed to conceal.

  Hedinar halted and spun rapidly once they reached the offices. Artemi half thought he’d intended to catch them doing something, or perhaps reprimand her over her behaviour. Morghiad was, after all, quite a young man - really very young compared to her. “Lieutenant Fireblade, I would ask that you fulfil your earlier promise to me. And I would very much like it if

  my son could be there to listen.” Listen to a story about his own death? His family’s death? And how was she to relate her role in all of it? “I really don’t think that’s a good id-” Hedinar folded his arms. “No. I have decided. It’s what he needs to hear. It’s about time you started taking your life and responsibilities a little more seriously,” he narrowed his eyes at his son. Avoiding his responsibilities? Were they looking at the same man? The kahr frowned lightly. “If this is going to be another Kahriss Eryth lecture, I shall take my patrols

  and leave tonight.”

  Artemi’s voice almost caught. Almost. “Kahriss Eryth?”

  “They want me to marry the crazy, Hirrahan woman.”

  His father’s face displayed considerable frustration. “Not necessarily. We just want you to find someone nice so that you can be happy. That’s not too much to ask, surely?”

  “Not Kahriss Eryth,” Artemi instructed. That drew curious looks from both men. “Really, Hedinar, I thought you were above deciding whom your children should marry.”

  The general blinked at her in astonishment. “And you always forget your place, Lieutenant!”

  Artemi clenched her jaw and held firm. “I will do as you ask, but there are some things I must keep from both of you until the time is right. That is the way of it.”

  Morghiad’s brow furrowed. “What...?”

  Hedinar sighed. “This particular Artemi is not our Artemi. She’s decided to visit us from a very different... reality. Though I am still trying to get my head around it, I think there is much we could learn.”

  The kahr studied her in his intense manner. “She is different,” he said at last.

  The general nodded in agreement, and that disturbed Artemi a little. It meant her experiences had changed her visibly.

  Morghiad frowned. “Then where is our Artemi?”

  She had a pretty good idea. “That is a matter I need to think on. Come. Let’s have our little story-telling session.” They moved quietly into Hedinar’s offices, which seemed to be filled with the warmth of Sunidara. A large fire burned in the broad hearth, at least as high as the two men. The rooms always had a certain reassurance about them, though she recalled being reprimanded there on several occasions. She grinned at the memories of her misbehaviours as she settled into an old armchair. Artemi never had been able to sit sensibly in such things, so she folded her legs up beneath her and rested her head against one of the wings. Morghiad had seated himself opposite, having maintained his characteristic stare at her, and Hedinar took up his chair behind the desk. “Well, you might as well start with that duel,” the general said. He pushed a

  steaming cup of red bush tea her way; she accepted it gladly.

  Artemi cleared her throat and began, “As I said, you defeated Acher, but you only left him with a few reminders of your fight. He left for Cadra the next morning, and you faced an inquisition from Medea.”

  Hedinar grunted at that. Perhaps the queen’s reaction hadn’t differed enormously in this world.

  She continued, “W
e then returned to Gialdin, and things were peaceful enough for a few years. Acher sent a few threats, as far as I’m aware, but Medea burned most of them.

  Koviere and I were kept on as guards – actually, is Koviere still here?”

  “He just completed the last patrol with me,” Morghiad said in a low voice. “Didn’t stop talking about you for two-hundred miles.” The king, or rather kahr, had settled back into his seat, making it appear as if it were the throne from which he darkly considered his subjects. The world might have rested in the palm of his hand, and it wouldn’t have looked out of place there. Even Hedinar would have admitted it.

  Artemi chuckled and addressed the general once more, “Well, he and I

  divided our time between guarding you and your chil- your son and daughter. I was set to look after Alliah most of the time, though she was a rather capable thing from a young age. Koviere spent most of his time with you.” She nodded towards Morghiad. “And of course, your existence was kept secret.” She frowned. “But everyone knows about you now?”

  “The world knew about him as soon as he was old enough not to brag about being kanaala.” Hedinar said with a wry glance towards his son. “You know... in this world he took quite a shine to you.”