Inferno

by Nancey Cummings

  He needed to warn the humans.

  Maar must have thought the same. He shoved the basket to Mishal. “Bring this to my mate. I must secure the City and destroy any ferix. You will stay with her and keep her safe.”

  “Which human is your mate?”

  “Brandi.”

  The name meant nothing to Mishal.

  “The one with brown skin and curling hair. Now go.” With a shudder, Maar summoned his armor. Heavy plates encased the male. Blazing sword in hand, he shouted for the ferix’s attention.

  Ertale pushed past Mishal, on his way to the fight. Sarsen drew him aside for a moment. “Pel is in the forest with three humans and Joi. I understand if you want to find him, but I need you to stay with the human females here.”

  Mishal wanted to find Pel, yes, but not for the reasons Sarsen suspected. Mishal wanted to rail at Pel for daring to bring a female into their dysfunctional triad. They were broken. What could they offer a mate?

  “I will find your mate,” he said. He and Pel had much to discuss, later, but Mishal suspected their discussion would be held more with their fists than with their words.

  He looked forward to it.

  Pel

  He shifted to his battle form in a heartbeat. His skin hardened and formed plates, creating a layer of armor. His fires burned hot, eager for a fight, but he maintained control, aware of the delicate female in his arms. He willed the plates covering his face to slide back.

  “That’s so cool,” Amber said, eyes wide with wonder but not panic. “What’s going on?”

  She clung to his arm. He smiled with some satisfaction that she would not let him go, despite being removed to a safe distance and having both feet on the ground. Ferix poured from the wound in the ground. Regardless of their small size, if left unchecked they could wreak havoc as they grew. Ferix were hungry beasts, and their size increased with every meal.

  “Stay here,” he said, setting his mate atop a rocky outcrop. Satisfied she was above the fray, he summed his inner fire to form a bow, focusing his energy to create arrows of fire. A sword would be more familiar in his hands but he needed to a volley to scatter the ferix.

  Shooting rapidly, he missed as often as he hit. An archer he was not. Fortunately, he herded the rodent-like ferix away from Amber. With each hit, the ferix collapsed into a pile of ash. Disgusting creatures. They served no natural purpose. Not even in death could they provide nourishment to the earth.

  Clearing the last of the ferix, he dismissed his armor. Amber had already clambered down the rocks, her silk shoes slipping over the rocks in an alarming manner. He helped her down before she fell. He made a note that she required boots, not the fanciful ornaments she currently wore. The other humans might request such pointless luxury, but his mate required footwear that allowed her to maneuver in the field.

  “What was that?” She dusted off her leggings, but he spied a rip in the seams. Useless garb. As soon as he could, he’d hunt and bring back pelts to make appropriate clothing for a female such as her. A female like Amber needed practical equipment, like boots durable enough to keep her dry through the rain and mud, so Pel hunted even though he was not a Hunter. He also wanted to provide her with fine clothing and luxurious furnishings, as impractical as those articles would be.

  He would do both.

  He made many decisions that day without consulting Mishal. His triad brother would be furious, but Pel would bear his wrath.

  A Soldier, he recognized a martial discipline in Amber and the Soldier in him responded to her commanding presence. Craved it. Craved her.

  Mishal would forgive Pel in time.

  “Hey? Are you listening? What were those things?”

  “Ferix.” He said it clearly so she could not misunderstand.

  “I’ve only seen those little bug things.”

  He shook his head. “Ferix come in all sizes, but they always hunger flesh.”

  “That is disturbing to know.” She stepped toward the vent in the ground but hesitated. “It’s too hot for me to get a good look.”

  The heat made no difference to him. He knelt at the edge of the vent. Lava slowly moved up toward the opening. “The heat turned the water in the ground into steam,” he said.

  “Did those things tunnel out?”

  “No. They just took an easy opportunity and followed the lava flow underground.”

  “Is it safe?”

  “The ferix are gone for now, but the ground will remain superheated until the lava flow stops. The vegetation here will die,” he said. Yesterday’s discussion about the rising lake echoed in his head.

  She stood with her hands on her hips and considered him. “I’d be more likely to actually believe you if you took off the armor.”

  “Trying to get me undressed already?” he asked with a grin.

  “Please, you valo are practically naked all the time.” She returned his grin. “We should check on the others,” Amber said, taking command. She shouldered her bag and pointed toward the river.

  Pel followed two steps behind, armor still activated. “So you did notice I was naked.”

  “Sweetie, you’re well over six-foot and made of lava. I noticed.”

  “But did you admire?”

  She tossed him a look over her shoulder. “I’m not answering that.”

  “You won’t insult my delicate sensibilities, I assure you. I’m admiring you right now.”

  She laughed, sweet and joyful. “Hurry up, you flirt. There might be more of those things.”

  Pel was decided. If it took him all day, he would track down an eko, a small animal with a fine, soft pelt that would provide the perfect liner for the boots he would make Amber. Human hands were so small and their skin thin. She would need gloves, and possibly a good, fur-lined hat. He would have to catch several ekos. He was not the best Hunter, an honor that belonged to Flin, but he had enough skill to complete his objective.

  Pel shook himself. He needed to report to Sarsen, not daydream about building a wardrobe for his mate.

  In his triad, Mishal was the Shaper and Flin the Hunter. Flin would have known which animals had the softest fur and would make the best leather for boots. He would have hunted and trapped the animals with skill and presented the leather skins to Mishal, who would craft what Amber needed.

  One day, Flin would awaken. Until then, he remained in a state between half-alive and half-dead. With his heartstone cracked, the fires inside his breast remained cold but not out entirely. His physical body was undamaged and Sarsen held out hope that the heartstones could be repaired as the Shapers continued to work on the problem.

  Pel missed his brother. He missed Flin's easy laugh and adventurous spirit. Flin always pushed to go deeper into the forest, to see a sight new to his old eyes, and to discover what lay over the horizon. A creature of habit, Pel knew that about himself. He served. He obeyed orders, as his protocol demanded. His body responded to authority, which was part of why Amber drew his eye. Mishal, while a Shaper and inherently creative, was very much lost to his own thoughts. Before they fell into their deep slumber, Mishal had been a quiet male. After they were awoken, he grew even more so.

  They needed the spark Flin brought to their triad. Pel did not feel he was truly alive without Flin.

  And yet there was Amber. Pel desired to make her his mate. Without Flin, it felt wrong to want a mate, even one as remarkable as Amber, but Pel knew that Flin would be the first to encourage him to follow where his heartstone led him.

  Tired of merely existing, he wanted to live. He wanted joy after a thousand years of numbness.

  Flin would understand.

  Mishal would have to learn to forgive him.

  Chapter Six

  Amber

  Something wasn’t right in the City. She felt it in the atmosphere immediately. The transport depot where the carts dropped off passengers was empty. Usually, one or more valo stood guard. Sarsen’s grim face prompted her to ask, “Is everything okay?”

  “I am un
sure,” he said. No sooner had Pel turned away than a solid mass slammed into him, knocking to the ground.

  “You!” Mishal cried, eyes blazing.

  “Hello, Mishal. I have much to tell you.”

  “Do you?” Mishal twisted Pel’s arm before releasing him. “What can you tell me that I have not already heard gossiped from the mouths of others? Why would I want to hear it from my triad brother, a male I’ve known as long as I’ve walked Sonhadra?”

  “Known but not respected?”

  Mishal pulled his lips back in a snarl. “Now is not the time to be glib.”

  “What have you heard?” Pel asked, rubbing his shoulder.

  “That you are courting this human,” he growled.

  “This human has a name,” Amber said, but she might as well have been talking to the wall for all the attention they paid her.

  “And if I am?” Pel stood at his full height. Mishal might have body mass on him, but Pel had height.

  “Then you shame us,” Mishal replied. “We are a broken triad. What do we have to offer a female when we are two? How can we provide, protect and be a helpmate with only two?”

  “So your main objection is that I failed to consult you?”

  Both men bristled, looking to be moments away from blows.

  “You misunderstand me on purpose,” Mishal said.

  “Your meaning is clear. Flin is not here with us, so we must suffer, yes? We can never know a moment of joy because we cannot share it with him.”

  “We cannot make a commitment to a female when we are incomplete.”

  “But you agree she is the female for us?” Pel asked.

  “Hello? Standing right here,” Amber said, completely ignored.

  Both men continued to give each other hard stares. Mishal pulled a crystal from the pouch at his waist. A yellowed crack bisected it. “This means nothing to you?”

  Pel’s eyes flickered down to the fractured heartstone. “I am sorry that Flin’s heartstone broke. I miss him, too, but that does not mean we must forego the pleasures of life. He would never ask that of us.”

  “And when he awakes? What would Flin say when he discovers that you’ve bound the triad to an unknown female and a human?”

  “He’d applaud my efforts to expand our horizons and enjoy the life we’ve been granted.”

  Mishal’s lip curled back. “Is that what you were doing in the forest? Expanding your horizon? Meanwhile, we have been fighting back the ferix, but you are too consumed with this human to notice the emergency all around.”

  “I’m right here!” Amber’s foot stomped on the ground. “And no one expanded anything, okay?” It was just a kiss—barely—and Amber wasn’t sure she wanted to be courted by Pel and Mishal. First, Mishal was an ass. They were a package deal and she wasn’t that interested in Mishal and his bad attitude. Secondly, courting seemed to be a sore point between them. They were triad brothers. She could only imagine that their relationship stretched back for centuries. She refused to be the source of any turmoil between them.

  “I fought ferix in the forest. Are they still fighting ferix in the City?” Pel asked, voice growing serious.

  Pel

  Sarsen and the other Soldiers had gathered in the Creator’s Plaza. Tall statues of the Creators ringed the plaza with Sheenika towering above them all, her coppery complexion vibrant against the white and gold of the statue’s clothing. The Soldiers wore their battle form and stationed themselves at even intervals from each other. Ferix climbed out of the lake, pulling themselves up a rock face and then over the balustrade. The Soldiers attacked, turning the creatures into piles of ash.

  “The humans you accompanied to the forest, are they safe?” Sarsen asked as Pel and Mishal approached. The plating over his face dissolved, revealing the intense burn of his fire. Cracks formed in frowning lines around his mouth, bright against his skin.

  “Yes. All are accounted for and unharmed. What happened?”

  “This. The ground rumbled and the lake swelled, spewing these abominations. It hasn’t stopped.” Ferix were the bastard mutations caused by toxic runoff from the Forge and whatever poor animal died in the caldera’s lake. They had just enough intelligence to be dangerous. They never tired and hunger gnawed at them constantly.

  “A vent opened in the forest. Lava came slowly out but so did ferix,” Pel reported.

  “Fucking hell,” Sarsen muttered, using human words. “The ferix grow bolder.”

  “The ferix have always been bold, but something has changed,” he speculated.

  “Before you were revived, one of the towers fell.” Sarsen pointed to the location of the now missing tower. “It housed a great deal of Sheenika’s technology. I cannot be certain, but it must have contained something that changed the lake or agitated the ferix.”

  “The level of the lake has risen,” Mishal observed. “Are the regulators in the service tunnels still operational? Has no one seen to their maintenance?”

  “They have been repaired many times,” Sarsen said.

  “By a Shaper or a Builder?” Mishal’s tone expressed the significance between the two.

  “You are the only Builder awake, so not a Builder. Asche and Tonai have done what they can.”

  Mishal’s head bobbed, as if he expected that answer. “I will repair them.”

  “The service tunnels had been cleared of ferix, but I cannot say for certain that they remain clear. Pel, accompany him and clear the tunnels,” Sarsen ordered, dismissing them.

  Mishal’s jaw clenched, as if he wanted to argue, but he ultimately dipped his head in agreement.

  Stairs wound down to the lower levels of the City in the Caldera. Pel went first and eliminated the smaller ferix scurrying through the tunnels. The regulators were housed at the lowest levels.

  Unable to assess the condition of the machines, Pel scanned the room. It had an abandoned air to it which did not bode well for the regulators. Mishal set to work at once and crawled under the machine.

  “You cannot ignore me forever,” Pel said. Mishal flat on his back and half under the enormous machine offered the safest time for Pel to attempt his apology.

  “I’m not ignoring you. I’m working,” Mishal grumbled. “I’m upset with you.”

  “I am attempting to apologize for my actions.”

  “Oh, by all means then, continue.” Mishal disassembled a length of pipe. Sludge dripped out before he placed it on the ground next to him.

  “It was wrong to court a female without consulting you.”

  Mishal grunted and another length of pipe clattered to the ground.

  “And you have a valid point; keeping a mate will be significantly harder with two instead of three.”

  Another piece of pipe clanged to the floor with some force.

  “But I sincerely believe that Flin would want us to seize any opportunity for happiness and joy—”

  “Do not speak of him as if he is dead!” Mishal wiggled out from under the machine and jumped to his feet, hands pushing on Pel’s chest in anger.

  “Flin is not awake.”

  “But he is not dead!” Mishal shoved Pel. Hard. The Builder had enough muscle mass to make Pel stumble backward. “Did he mean so little that you can cast him aside and chase the first pretty female you see? Did we mean so little?”

  “No, of course not.” The opposite, in fact. “I do not seek to replace him or forget him. I only thought to do what Flin would want.”

  Mishal gave him another shove before turning away. “You keep saying what Flin would want as if you can divine minds now. You do not know what Flin would want. Perhaps he does not want this female?”

  “He will.”

  “And when he wakes, he discovers that we have already bonded to her?”

  “So you do want Amber? You think about bonding with her.” Pel imagined bonding with Amber. Asche had explained to Pel how his Lucie had inadvertently bonded her three mates to herself with her blood on their heartstones. Their heartstones now beat in ti
me with her human heart.

  The action mimicked a ritual the tribe had before the Creators arrived. The female would nick her palm and press her bleeding hand over the heart of her mates. The males did the same. The notion of sharing that with Amber—and Mishal and Flin—filled him with delight.

  “What I want is beside the point. We must think of our triad brother who cannot speak for himself. We must not make any lasting decision without him.”

  Pel found himself agreeing with Mishal’s words. They should not make major decisions that impacted Flin without his consent. However, without a way to repair his heartstone, Flin would remain between life and death until his body turned to stone completely and crumbled. “No lasting decisions until we know for certain,” Pel said.

  Mishal knelt on the floor and continued to disassemble the machine. The larger pipes gave way to finer, more delicate gears and gauges. He examined each piece carefully before setting it aside. Pel knew Mishal worked through his thoughts as meticulously as he worked on the regulator.

  Pel could be patient and wait. Occasionally, a fire beetle scuttled up the wall. He flung a quickly manifested dagger, reducing the pest to ash. If Sarsen’s theory was correct, that some compound from the collapsed tower mixed with the lake and accelerated the ferix’s rate of spawning, then the siege could last for seasons. The humans could no longer have free range of the City. They would have to be restricted to safe areas, well above the lake. The lake would require constant monitoring to eliminate any ferix that spawned. With the tribe’s numbers so low, every available person would have to take a watch, not just Soldiers and Sentinels.

  “If we do this,” Mishal said at long last, “then you must wait for Flin or until we are certain.”

  It gladdened his heartstone to hear his own words repeated back. “Yes. Any decision that affects the triad will be made as a triad.”

  “And I must be present when you court Amber.”

  “Don’t trust me to be alone with her?” he asked in a teasing tone.