by Gary Kloster
Jiri started to open her mouth, but all the others had swung to look at her, and suddenly she felt her throat closing.
Don't do this. Not now!
"Gods, girl, use your tongue before I knock it out! What does Amiro want now?"
Her throat was locked, but Jiri made herself move. She shoved through the guards, put herself right in front of the northerner. Focused on him, ignored the others. Amiro. What does Amiro want? Speak!
"Amiro." The word barely squeaked out, and the man growled, leaned over and grabbed Jiri by the collar of her robe.
"Amiro what? I don't have time for —" He was shaking her as he spoke, his pale face dark with blood, and Jiri focused on that, on him, and her tongue finally moved.
"The prisoner escaped. Amiro needs men to hunt for her."
"What prisoner?" The man snapped.
"A...halfling woman. That's all he told me. ‘Tell them to find the halfling woman, she escaped.'"
The man let out a stream of curses, shaking her with each word. But then he let her go. "Tell Amiro I have my hands full trying to catch these idiots and keep those rioters at bay. If I see any halflings, I'll kick them his way."
Jiri nodded, stepped back the moment he let her go. When he turned back to his guards, barking orders again, it only took one step backward to get into the warehouse.
∗ ∗ ∗
There they were, trapped in the northwest corner, just like the man had said. Jiri edged her way along the wall, watching the fight. Sera was obvious, wrapped in her shining steel, only half-hidden by a crate. Morvius and Linaria were better concealed, but Jiri could see the marks of Linaria's magic, slick patches of melting ice, dripping spears of it hanging from the boxes and barrels that half-filled the warehouse.
In front of them, a group of guards crouched behind a line of crates, holding crossbows. They took the occasional shot, but seemed content to stay under cover and keep their targets pinned in their corner.
I have to do something, before those other guards get in here.
The large outside door to the warehouse stood half open, the path to it clear, and that was the problem. If they made a break for it, they would be shot full of quarrels before they covered half the distance. If I had any spells ready...
But I don't. So what do I have?
Jiri looked at the crates, the barrels, then scanned the rafters the same way she would check trees for leopards. And up there she saw it: a great net stuffed with bales of cotton, roped up out of the way. Behind her, Jiri heard the other guards coming in, and she raised her hand.
Fire came to her, easy as always, but she welcomed it now.
It flashed from her hand and struck true. Flames wrapped around the top of the net, right where it pulled together. The thick strands of hemp caught and parted.
It wasn't perfect. The whole net didn't give way and plummet onto the guards, but it was good enough. All the ropes on one side parted, and the net sagged, spilling cotton bales down onto the floor. They hit the stone and burst, each one exploding into a thick cloud of drifting white strands, filling the warehouse like a fog bank.
When the avalanche of bales began, Jiri started running. She charged through the drifting cotton, dodging crates, heading toward the door, hoping that Linaria and the others were doing the same. At the gap she threw herself outside, then looked back.
Morvius was out and running, Linaria hard on his heels, Sera not far behind. They crossed the street and stopped, looking back at the compound, and Jiri started toward them.
"We can't, not that way," Morvius was saying. "We need to circle around, hit them from a different spot."
"We've lost the cover of your diversion," Sera said. "How can we get in to find her now?"
"I don't bloody know," Morvius snapped. "But—" He cut off when Linaria hit him, turned to see what she was pointing at. He stared at Jiri, then nodded. "Right, we rescued her. Good on us. Shall we go?"
A crossbow quarrel buzzed out of the warehouse, smashing into Sera's shield.
"Time to go," Jiri agreed, and they started to run.
Chapter Eighteen
Leaving Kibwe
What's happening?" Jiri gasped.
They were in a narrow lane well away from the Consortium compound, leaning against a warehouse's rough brick wall as they caught their breath. In front of them stretched a neighborhood of small houses, their thick earthen walls and thatched roofs dark shadows in the rainy night. The houses were quiet, but beyond them Jiri could hear voices shouting.
"There were more attacks while you were in there," Linaria said. "And the city was on the tipping point. People were getting scared, and there were stories. Of a woman summoning demons"—the white-haired woman glanced at Jiri, then away—"and that the Aspis Consortium was behind it. Among other stories. But then one of the hunting groups the Governing Council had organized showed up this afternoon with a bag full of biloko heads."
"They found the ones that attacked Pakala?"
Linaria nodded at Jiri. "Sounds like. At least a lot of them came back with burns. But they won, killed most of the biloko and drove the rest away. The council told everyone that the danger was past, and the whole city started celebrating."
"Too soon," Jiri said.
"Too soon." Linaria paused, staring at Morvius, who had just raised his hand. He was peering around the corner of the warehouse, and Jiri could hear footsteps: the slap of bare feet, and the heavier sound of boots. They all stood silent, even Sera, and watched a group of shadows move by. Consortium guards, or just caravaners, it was impossible to tell. When they were past, Linaria started whispering again.
"Another group of hunters was coming back to the city this evening. They were passing a sugarcane plantation when your All-in-Ashes fell out of the sky. At least that's what I assume it was. They described something like a man, with great wings of fire and smoke. When he landed, a circle of flames spread, destroying everything."
Did Patima do that? Does she control that thing now? The metal bag tucked beneath Jiri's arm felt heavier, the rings of it warmer against her side.
"The hunters ran back here, arriving in the middle of the celebration, telling everyone what they saw until the council got their guard to shut them up. Too late. The news started a fresh panic. Now the city is completely confused, some of it still celebrating, some panicking, and the rest either taking advantage or lying low."
"And we get to wade through it," Morvius said. "We're heading to the Red Spear, right?"
Linaria looked at Jiri, who nodded. She needed time to examine this kindi. Kalun's place would work well enough.
"Then we should move." Morvius shifted Scritch in his hands, looking at Jiri. "You're all right?"
"I'm all right," Jiri said.
"Good. You need to keep up." He started to turn away but stopped when Jiri put a hand on his arm. "What?"
"You came here to haul me out of the fire," she said. "Thank you."
Morvius looked down at her. "You're a pain in the ass, sometimes. So am I, sometimes. But no one deserves to be Corrianne's prisoner. Besides, Sera paid us to do it, and you did most of the work."
"Blessings rain down," Sera said, the first time Jiri had heard her speak since they left the warehouse. Her armor gleamed, flashing back a stroke of lightning. "Did you get what you went in there for?" The paladin nodded at the bag Jiri carried.
"I did," Jiri said. She didn't feel like saying anything else about what had happened in the Aspis compound, or how she had ended up inside it.
"Good. This hunt needs to start again." Sera's eyes flashed like her armor.
Jiri made herself meet those eyes and nod. Sera didn't intimidate her now. Maybe because of what had happened to her, maybe because she had gotten away, or maybe because Sera had come to help her.
Or it could have been all the sodden strands of cotton that were plastered into the tall woman's short hair.
∗ ∗ ∗
They moved through the mud and the rain, sticking to the n
arrow lanes between the quiet houses. It was late, but lights still glowed behind many of the shuttered or mosquito net–covered windows. No one had sought their mats or hammocks yet.
Not when that rumble of voices still filled the night, a counterpoint to the rain.
The crowd was in the Adayenki and in the market, so Jiri and her companions avoided those places, taking the long road to the Red Spear. "What are they doing?" Jiri asked, as they walked between tall mud-brick boarding houses that bulged and grew together like termite mounds. The Adayenki lay just beyond them, and she could hear arguments and shouts.
"Being confused. And afraid, and angry." Morvius stopped where the lane turned abruptly out into an open square, looking it over carefully. "Waiting for daylight, mainly, so they can be less afraid and more angry. At least they're not rioting."
"No thanks to you," Sera said.
"I didn't hear any ideas from you on how to distract the Consortium guards back there," Morvius said. "Besides, all I did was convince a bunch of drunken kobolds that the Consortium had cheated them. No one else in this city was going to join them in doing anything. Which is too bad. If they had kept throwing rocks at the Aspis offices, we might have been able to sneak through that warehouse."
"How did you know I was there?" Jiri asked Linaria.
"Kalun has connections," the half-elf said. Then she reached out and touched Morvius's shoulder. "There's someone on the other side of the square. Behind the well."
Jiri squinted into the dark and the rain, but couldn't see anyone. Not until lightning flashed and she caught sight of a shadow moving around the edge of the communal well. She tightened up when she saw how small it was. "Mikki," she whispered, hands clamping down on the bag she held. She had no weapon, no magic...
"No. It's Fara." Linaria stepped away from the wall and waved at the girl. A few moments later the girl was gasping in the mud before them, her dreadlocks dripping.
"Father sent me...to find...you." Fara took a breath and shoved her wet hair out of her face. "Amiro is at the inn. With some of his people, and council guards. Says you attacked their compound and stole something."
Morvius glanced at Jiri and the bag she held. "Does he? What message did your father have for us?"
"Get out of the city and lie low," Fara said. "She thinks Amiro is calling in all his favors. He isn't sure he can protect you now."
Jiri stared at the girl, listening, thinking. She touched Linaria's shoulder, and whispered into the woman's pointed ear. "Amiro told me that he had spies in Kalun's house. His daughters."
Linaria turned her head, staring at Jiri with her strange eyes. "Amiro told you," she said.
Jiri paused, then felt her face heat in the rain. "He lied."
"Feda, Kalun's wife, has been taking money from Amiro for years. She splits it with Kalun, sometimes evenly. Kalun and Amiro, they play deep games with each other. But I trust Fara."
"Why?" Jiri asked.
"Because I know her. And I know Amiro."
Deep games. These men make Hadzi's lies so small. Jiri didn't say anything more.
Their politics were too complicated for Jiri to deal with now. She concentrated instead on what all their plotting likely meant: that the Consortium wasn't going to let her take this kindi out of Kibwe without a fight.
∗ ∗ ∗
They were almost in the shadow of Kibwe's great wall when Jiri saw the ambush take shape. The rain in front of her shifted, splattering as if it were ricocheting off something that wasn't there. Then something was, furred and toothed, like a dog but much bigger, its eyes shining with a dull red light like coals about to die. The thing attacked, and Jiri didn't have time to shout. She just shoved her hands into Linaria's back and the half-elf stumbled forward, lurching into Sera, just out of reach of those snapping jaws.
The beast growled and lunged at Sera, teeth tearing at her armored leg, sending her sprawling. It went for her throat, then yelped as Morvius slammed Scritch into its flank.
Jiri's hand rose, growing hot, but she ripped her eyes away from the fight. That thing had been summoned, and that meant there must be a summoner. Spinning, Jiri searched the rain and the dark, and behind her—
Patima was there, just out of reach, her dark hair plastered to her shoulders, her eyes blazing. "Come with me."
Magic ran through her words, tangled around Jiri's soul like vines, and when she tried to pull away Jiri felt the bite of its power like thorns. Without thinking, she moved, walking away from the fight that raged behind her.
∗ ∗ ∗
They ended up in a tiny square behind a shuttered coffeehouse.
"Close." Patima stopped, so Jiri jerked to a stop too, watching her, waiting, while inside her skull her thoughts screeched and leapt like a troop of monkeys, never resting, never going anywhere.
"So close." Patima's voice had lost its beauty sometime in the night. Her words were full of certainty, triumph, but they rasped out of her throat as if she had spent hours screaming. "Do you understand that? Do you know what it means?"
Patima turned, and her wide brown eyes danced with lightning. "It means I forgive you for trying to stop me. Come here."
Jiri stepped forward, even as her teeth clenched and her lips pulled back, baring her teeth.
Patima reached out and cupped Jiri's chin. She tipped Jiri's head back and stared down into her eyes. "You don't understand. No one understands. This world is wounded, and it bleeds nightmares. Nightmares that spread, that infect." Patima's fingers tightened on Jiri. "They infect me, but I know how to get rid of them now. I can burn them out." She smiled, a baring of teeth. "I will become the fire, and I will burn away all my nightmares. I will cauterize the wound that is Usaro. I will become All-in-Ashes, and I will burn."
"No." The word whispered between Jiri's teeth—a plea, a command, a prayer, all tangled together, all useless.
"You are marked by its flames," Patima said in her broken voice. "You are its herald, and you told me what I must do. You saved me, girl. You saved the world." Patima's hand fell from Jiri's chin and hovered, empty between them. "Now give me what's mine."
"N—" Jiri tried to speak, but that short syllable of resistance was too much. Her hands were moving, lifting the bag, but their smooth motion faltered. Give me what is mine.
Jiri's hands flew over the bindings that held the bag shut, wrenching it open. Her hand reached in, found Oza's necklace, and jerked it out. She reached in again, and this time she felt the searing heat of the All-in-Ashes kindi press against her palm, but she kept her hand from jerking back. Searching, she found the smooth wood of Shani's kindi and pulled it out. Then she handed the bag over.
Patima took it, holding it close as if desperate for its warmth. Her eyes were on Jiri, though, and the little kindi she held. "What—" she began, then stopped. The sound of puddles splashing beneath feet echoed up the narrow alley that led into this square, and moments later Mikki, Amiro, and Corrianne appeared, pelting through the rain.
"You have it?" Amiro held his warhammer in one hand, and the steel of his armor dripped with melting frost. "They're right behind us."
"I have it," Patima said.
"And you know where to go?" Amiro looked over at Corrianne, who was hunched over, gasping for breath, her ornate dress soaked with rain, her white skin livid with the red marks of Linaria's cold.
"No. I never heard of this damn place. But I can get us out of here and closer."
Amiro nodded, then pointed his warhammer at Jiri. "This one?"
"I'm done with her," Patima said. She turned to Jiri. "Tell them I'm going to burn all the darkness away. Tell them I'm going to save the world."
"They're coming," Mikki said, staring down the alley, a knife spinning in her hand. She launched it into the darkness, then skipped back, grinning.
"Let's go," Amiro said, and they moved together, linking hands.
Corrianne spoke, and the rain splashed down, plunging through the space where they had stood a moment before. Jiri stared at th
at empty gap, clutching necklace and kindi, and Patima's last words echoed in her ears.
When Sera pounded up behind her, pale face streaked with mud, armor and tabard gleaming, Jiri felt her lips move.
"She...will...save..." No. With a wrenching, sickening pain, Jiri tore at the thorny vine of Patima's magic, finally ripping it free from her soul.
"Save what?"
Jiri looked at the paladin, at Morvius and Linaria and Fara running up behind her.
"Nothing. She will save nothing. Least of all herself."
∗ ∗ ∗
They slipped over the walls of Kibwe and into the night, moving until they found a village built not far from the edge of the great burn scar that surrounded the city. It was empty, the population fled to hide behind Kibwe's granite bastions. In its center was a crude echo of Kibwe's Governing Council's hall, and in the dry beneath its thatched roof, they stopped.
"Jiri," Linaria said, pushing back the frayed remains of her braid. "Come here."
"What is it?" Jiri hung back, seeing the careful way Linaria was watching her.
"Patima dominated you," Linaria said. "That kind of magic has a way of...clinging. I want to make sure it's gone."
"It's gone," Jiri said, angry and ashamed at the memory of the spell's violation, but Linaria just stared at her until she took a breath and nodded. "No, you're right. We need to be sure."
Linaria reached out, rested her hands lightly on Jiri's forehead, her lips whispering her magic.
Jiri felt the magic sweep through her, a cold wind that made her shudder, but left her clean, scoured, pure. "Thank you," she said, and Linaria nodded and stepped back.
"So." Sera stood in the center of the villagers' meeting space, the carved rafters meeting just above her head. The rain had washed the mud and blood from her face. "What now?"
"Patima took the kindi." Thoughts whirled through Jiri's head, jumbling together with what she had just heard from Patima and the others. "She thinks she can use it to make All-in-Ashes hers. To become it, somehow. But she has to take it somewhere first."