Fire Keep

by J. Scott Savage

  It wasn’t Chaos, though. It was Magma.

  “Why were you spying on me?” she demanded, moving so close to the beast that she had to crane her neck to stare up at him.

  “Why were you bothering that human?” he snarled. “I told you to leave them alone.”

  Turnip felt her face grow hot. “I was trying to help.”

  “By torturing him the way you did the woman?”

  “No. I . . .” Her plan sounded stupid now that she had to say it out loud. “He asked me for a flower. I think because he misses his garden. I couldn’t find one, so I made a flower. Out of a piece of rock and some fabric from my gown.”

  The minotaur looked at her torn hem. He glanced back the way she had come.

  “I know it was dumb,” she said. “It’s just that they’re all alone, and no one is helping them. I thought it was the least I could do.”

  The minotaur stared at her for a moment, slammed his mace into one hand so hard it looked like it would rip his arm from its socket, and spun around. Without another word, he raced out of sight.

  Had she done something wrong again? She’d only been trying to help. How had she messed up?

  “Wait,” she called, running after him. She was tired of being confused. If they didn’t want her to cause any more trouble, one of them needed to explain what she’d done. But when she reached the end of the passageway, Magma was gone.

  She headed right, but found herself in an empty cavern. Retracing her steps, she went left. Soon she came to another fork. Which way should she go? The fire elementals’ home was like a huge maze. She had no idea how they managed to avoid getting lost.

  With no clue where she was or how to get back to where she’d started, she explored one path after another. More than once, she was almost positive that she was walking the same passage over and over. She had no concept of how long she’d been looking or how far she’d come. Time seemed strange here, and her legs never got tired or sore.

  She’d reached an intersection that looked like hundreds she’d already passed when she thought she heard voices coming from her right. Following the sound, she descended a gently spiraling passage to the foot of some stairs she was sure she’d never seen.

  Staying close to the wall, she crept up the steps, and the voices came clearer. It sounded like the Pyrinths were arguing. She made out more voices than the three she knew, and some sounded female. Were there female Pyrinths too?

  After dropping to her hands and knees, she crawled up one stair at a time.

  “There’s no reason to bring her here,” said a deep voice, which might have belonged to Magma.

  “You don’t think she’ll find us on her own?” a female voice asked. “You said yourself that she’s been exploring more than any of the others.”

  “What if she riles them up?” a third voice asked. “They could come here themselves.”

  “Perhaps she is the one.”

  “There is no one.”

  “The book says—”

  “The book says whatever you want it to. You can’t read it any more than the rest of us can.”

  She couldn’t keep track of who was speaking, but were they talking about her? Slowly, she climbed to the top of the stairs. As she did, a short section of tunnel leading into a huge, open cavern came into view. Dozens—maybe hundreds—of fire elementals glared and snarled at one another.

  A creature that looked more like a plant than an animal, except for the lobster-like pinchers on the ends of its arms, waved a fiery claw. “Throw her in,” the creature said in a high-pitched voice. “If she doesn’t come out, she isn’t the one.”

  Magma swung a fist that the plant creature barely avoided. “How about we throw you in?” he snarled, to general laughter around the room.

  “We aren’t throwing anyone in,” Prudentes said. “It doesn’t work that way. She has to choose to go in.”

  “Why would she do that?” asked a lumpy dog-looking thing, although it took Turnip a moment to realize that the dog thing was the one doing the speaking, because his words seemed to come from what she’d thought was the dog’s tail.

  Chaos turned in Turnip’s direction. She ducked, but it was too late. He pointed straight at her and said, “Ask her for yourself.”

  16: Into the Fire

  Turnip slowly rose from her crouch as the eyes of all the Pyrinths turned to her. None of them looked friendly except for Chaos, who wore his typical broad grin. “Didn’t I tell you she would come? That’s my girl.”

  She licked her lips, clasping her hands in front of her. “I heard voices.”

  “She’s a baby,” someone said.

  “They all look like babies,” said another. “So do you.”

  The first elemental jabbed a finger in the other’s eye, and the two of them, locked in combat, rolled out of sight.

  Turnip took one step forward and then another. The floor had a warped look as if the rock had melted and hardened over and over again in waves.

  When she was about to enter the room, Magma blocked her way, his brows lowered like a granite shelf over his eyes. “Go away.”

  Chaos stepped forward, dagger drawn. “You heard old scale face. She can do what she wants.”

  Magma raised a fist. “This is your fault.”

  Prudentes put a hand on each of the fire elementals’ shoulders and studied Turnip with slow, blinking eyes. “Did anyone ask you to come here?”

  She shook her head. “I found you myself.”

  A series of oohs and ahhs came from the room, and Prudentes pushed Chaos and Magma aside. “Let her through.”

  As she entered the room, all of the fire elementals stepped back. She glanced curiously around the cavern, the largest she’d seen by far—perhaps as big as all of the other rooms combined. At one end, a huge blue-and-orange tornado of fire swirled with loud, crackling flames. The Pyrinths followed her gaze with a kind of awe in their eyes.

  She turned to Magma. “You were talking about me, weren’t you?”

  “Yes,” Chaos said.

  Magma dropped a shoulder into Chaos’s chest, pushing him backward. “No we weren’t.”

  Prudentes held his book beneath his chin like some kind of talisman. “What do you want?”

  “To find out why I’m here,” she said at once.

  “See?” Chaos jabbed his dagger toward her. “She’s the one.” The Pyrinths standing behind him nodded, and a few even cheered.

  “She’s not,” Magma said. A few of the fire elementals murmured agreement, but most of them hissed and shook their heads.

  Turnip had no idea what they were talking about, and she was sick of veiled references she didn’t understand. “What one?” she asked. “Tell me who you think I am. What do you think I’m supposed to do?”

  Prudentes nodded. “Yes. You deserve to know.” He opened the book, and flames spilled out. “According to the Word of Fire, one will come to free us all.”

  Magma snorted. “You don’t know if it actually says that. You’re guessing.”

  Angry murmurs came from the crowd, stopping only when he turned to them and bared his fangs.

  “Free you from what?” Turnip asked.

  “From this,” the lizard said, waving an arm around the room. “From Fire Keep. Our prison.”

  “Our home,” Magma muttered. But no one was listening to him.

  Turnip nodded. “How do I free you?”

  “Enter the vortex and open the gate,” Chaos said, his eyes glittering as he glanced toward the spinning tornado of fire.

  Turnip looked at the swirling tornado of flames, which rose nearly to the ceiling. Her heart thudded against her chest.

  “She doesn’t have to—” Magma began.

  “I want to know what this is all about,” Turnip said, cutting him off. “Then I’ll decide for myself.” She looked for a place to sit and found a stone bench. “Tell me everything.”

  Prudentes stepped forward, and the rest of the elementals moved back. He cleared his throat, thin
tongue flicking in and out. “According to the Word, when the elementals were created, they were divided from one another. Water hid from man to avoid his folly. Land went beneath the ground to gather and learn. Air became trapped above the clouds as a punishment for their cruelty, and Fire was locked away . . .” He paused before continuing, not quite as confidently. “Locked away because we were a danger to all.”

  Turnip sat up straight. “A danger?”

  “The book is unclear sometimes,” Chaos said. “One word may have a dozen different meanings. Danger could mean we were simply unknown or confusing.”

  “Now the book is unclear,” Magma said.

  Prudentes glared at them both. “It does appear that we were locked away because of our unpredictability—our tempers. But the book says that a time would come when the elements would be gathered to perform a great feat. When that time comes, one from outside our world will arrive to open the gates and free us.”

  That felt right somehow. That’s why she was here. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she did. She stood up. “I’ll do it.”

  As she walked toward the flames, a cheer went up from the crowd, but Magma grabbed her by the shoulder. “Don’t.”

  “Why not?” She twisted to pull out of his grip. “You want me to spend the rest of my life trapped here? Why don’t you want me to open the gates?”

  He squeezed his Mace until the handle cracked. “Because the vortex will destroy you before you ever get the chance.”

  “What do you mean, ‘too late’?” Marcus asked, his eyes locked on Kyja’s image.

  The Master got up from the table, walked over, and placed an icy hand on Marcus’s elbow. “Right now you have a chance to bring her back. You can restore her to full health this very minute.”

  “So you can kill her?” Marcus spat.

  “I promise that if you bring her back, I will make sure that not a single hair on her head is harmed. I give you my solemn word.”

  Kyja, who had been walking toward the flames, stopped and looked up at the horned creature holding the mace. The sight of her made Marcus’s heart ache so badly, he thought it would shatter into a billion tiny shards. But dark magic? He couldn’t.

  “If, however, you fail to reach her before she enters that pyre of death, she will be beyond the power of my magic.” The wizard squeezed Marcus’s elbow like a vise.

  Marcus turned to Graehl. “Is it true?”

  The man nodded, his eyes locked on Marcus’s. “Not even dark magic will not bring her back if she enters the flames.”

  Magma shook his head, horns slicing the air. “The vortex will destroy you.”

  “Don’t listen to him,” Chaos said. “He has no idea what will happen.”

  Magma slammed his mace into Chaos’s chest, sending him reeling across the room.

  “What are you doing?” Turnip shouted, slapping at the minotaur’s arm. “I’m not afraid of fire. It doesn’t hurt me here.”

  “Don’t you think we’d have entered the vortex if that were made of normal fire? It’s not. The vortex is a gateway to the outside world. But the gates are locked with magic. You can’t get past them.”

  She turned to Prudentes, a question in her eyes.

  “It’s true,” the lizard said. “The gates are protected by powerful magic meant to keep us in. Without magic . . .” He shrugged his scaly shoulders. “I don’t see how you can survive.”

  She tugged at the sleeves of her gown. “Maybe the book is wrong. Maybe I can get through. If I can’t, I’ll come back.”

  Magma snorted. “You can’t come back. The vortex is a one-way path. Everyone who has tried to go through has been destroyed. They aren’t telling you to enter because they think you’ll be any different. They want you to go in because they are stupid and selfish, and they don’t care whether you destroy yourself or not.”

  She balled her hands into fists. “And if I stay? What then?”

  He opened his mouth, then closed it.

  “Tell me, what I’m supposed to do if I stay here? Tell me where I’ll go, what my life will be like.”

  Magma had no answer for her.

  “I’d rather be destroyed than stay locked here forever.” She started toward the vortex.

  Marcus watched as Kyja turned from the fire elemental and walked toward the flames. “I’ll do it,” he said.

  Graehl looked up.

  “You asked if I’m willing to do hard things to save Kyja. The answer is yes.”

  “Hard things,” Graehl repeated. Why didn’t he look happy? This was what he wanted, wasn’t it?

  The wizard grinned and took both of Marcus’s hands—the healthy one and the withered. “You will have power beyond your imagining. You will be able to have anything you want. Health, strength, wealth. Nations will bow before you.”

  “I don’t want any of that,” Marcus said. “I only want to save Kyja. Show me how.”

  “Close your eyes,” the Master said. “Think about what you want.”

  Marcus shut his eyes. He thought about everything he’d shared with Kyja. The first time they’d met, the time when he’d touched the Poison Polly and she’d laughed at his mangled attempt to talk with a numb mouth. How brave she’d been when they went up against the Summoner outside Water Keep. Floating down the river together. Helping the woman in Chicago. Kyja’s rescuing him in Land Keep. The way she was kind to everyone. He imagined her green eyes and pale skin—the way her hair blew in the wind.

  “Focus on what are trying to do.” The wizard’s voice sounded far away.

  Bring her back, Marcus whispered inside his head. In his mind, he saw himself pulling her from Fire Keep and putting her soul back into her body. If he could do that one thing, nothing else mattered. She’d been willing to pay whatever price it took to go to Fire Keep; he’d do whatever it took to bring her back.

  A sound like rushing wind filled his ears. He’d done magic before and recognized the power around him. In the past, he’d asked the elementals for help. But that wouldn’t work this time. Light magic wasn’t enough.

  “Hard things,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

  “Now make it happen!” the Master shouted.

  Marcus opened his eyes. Kyja had nearly reached the tower of flames. “No!” he howled. “No. You won’t leave me again. Not this time.”

  Graehl was staring at him, and the Master was laughing, but none of that mattered. The only thing on his mind was saving Kyja.

  He reached for magic, and the darkness came again, black and squirming, like a viper trying to force its way down his throat. This time, instead of fighting it, he gave in, and darkness flooded through his body like black ink.

  “Hard things,” he said, tasting bitterness in his mouth.

  “Yes.” The master laughed. “Yes!”

  “You don’t have to do this,” Magma said, following her toward the vortex. “What you did back there for those two humans, was . . .” He shook his massive head. “I’ve never seen anyone do something like that before. Who’ll take care of them now?”

  “You could.” She stopped and placed a hand against his chest. “It has to be more rewarding than hitting people with that mace of yours.”

  “But you don’t have any magic,” he said. “How do you expect to survive?”

  Words came to her again. She didn’t know where they were from, but for some reason, she heard them in her mind spoken by a voice both wise and gentle. “Everything has magic in it. From the smallest insect to the mighty trees of Before Time.”

  “No.” Magma grunted. “We don’t.”

  As they reached the vortex, Turnip could feel the heat radiating off it. Not like the rest of the fires here, but a heat that burned all the way inside her. She wouldn’t admit it out loud, but maybe Magma was right. She felt strongly that she needed to enter the vortex—that it’s why she was here. But she also felt that she didn’t have everything she needed to succeed; something was missing. And because of that, the magical flames would destroy her
like they had destroyed everyone else who had tried to enter.

  The rest of the Pyrinths had fallen back as they neared the magical flames, but Magma remained at her side, his fire dwarfed by the one in front of them.

  Turnip reached up and patted him on chest. “You have magic inside you. You just don’t know it yet. But I think you can learn. If I don’t come back, promise me that you’ll try and find it.”

  She paused for a moment and looked around the room. It almost felt like there was someone standing beside her. Not understanding why she said it, she whispered, “This isn’t a hard thing.”

  A sparkling red gem rolled down Magma’s check. She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but she was almost sure it was a tear. He reached out and gently took her hand. “Come back.”

  The more the blackness filled Marcus, the more he was able to take in. The energy rushing into him was the most powerful thing he’d ever felt—pure, raw, and unfettered by conscience, morals, or values. He could see now that he’d been foolish to limit himself. Had he really thought it made sense for the elementals to decide what he could and couldn’t do with magic?

  “Yes,” the Master whispered in his ear. “Do it. Do what you want.”

  Marcus laughed. He could see how every single thing he’d been struggling for could be accomplished. Saving Kyja would require no more than a command. He’d rip her from Fire Keep, and no one could stop him. If she’d been separated from her body too long, he could fix that, too.

  After that, he could . . . he could do anything he wanted. He didn’t need to fear the Summoners; he could control them. Their power was his. Same with the undead armies. They’d been torn from their graves with dark magic, and they could be sent back the same way.

  Or not.

  Why not use them to accomplish good? The Master might not agree with that, but Marcus thought he saw a way that the Master himself could be defeated. The first thing, of course, would be to take control of the four elements then open a permanent drift to Earth. When he’d done that, he and Kyja could go from one world to the other, fixing any problems that got in their way.