Sunweaver

by Ryan W. Mueller

  On the other hand, they couldn't risk inciting panic. People slept soundly at night because they thought Fireweavers and Halarik distant threats.

  "Do you think this Atarin is the kidnapper?" Tiran asked.

  Deril considered a moment. "It seems most likely. He's the leader of Halarik's Chosen. I have to think anything they do goes through him."

  "I'll agree with that," Hanir said, leaning on his stone desk and massaging his temples. "So that might be what you need to find. Atarin's plans."

  Deril chuckled without humor. "It sounds so simple when you say it, but I know this is going to be very difficult. Thank you for your help and discretion."

  "Be safe," Hanir said. "A lot may depend on this effort of yours."

  Chapter 9: A New World

  The snowstorm relented later that evening, and Rella was grateful. Even though she drew her power from the core, she didn't have enough to weave a shield forever. The world darkened, and she cast Yellow to light her path.

  In the distance, a fire burned. The bandits? She started toward the light, her legs complaining with every step. She'd never felt so exhausted, both physically and mentally.

  All this time alone had allowed her to reflect on her decision. Again and again, she'd stopped, wondering if she should turn back, if there was some way she could convince Rendir not to kill her. But then she reminded herself that killing him was the only way.

  She had never killed anyone, and she prayed she'd never need to.

  The fire grew closer as the nighttime chill deepened. She had climbed a little throughout the afternoon and evening, growing closer to the Snow Knife Mountains. They stood like a giant wall, a barrier between her world and the one she'd always hoped to avoid.

  Evergreen trees dotted the gentle slope around her. The fire burned in a thick patch of these trees, and a low murmur of voices sounded.

  A shadowy figured turned toward her and spoke in a rough voice. "Who goes there?"

  "A friend," Rella said.

  "We have no friends among your kind. Go away."

  She approached, her heart pounding as she passed a couple rows of trees. "I'm from that caravan this afternoon. I'm the one with the secret."

  She hoped she'd been specific enough. After all, she couldn't give away too much, for she didn't know if these people were the bandits. Her legs trembled.

  "Don't make any sudden moves," said a woman whose voice sounded familiar. Another shadow emerged from the trees. "We are armed, both physically and magically."

  The woman stepped closer, a yellow glow surrounding her. She looked like the bandit leader, and Rella exhaled with relief.

  "I recognize you," the leader said, looking at Rella with narrowed eyes. "I thought you said you had a life back among Sunweavers. What changed?"

  Rella held back tears, trying not to think of Azira and Tarell. "As it turns out, the Sun Guard with us had always been curious about me because my mother was executed as a Fireweaver. He checked for my heat field during the battle, and he tried to arrest me afterward. Even though I saved his life."

  "That doesn't surprise me," the leader said. "People like him don't change their minds easily. It doesn't matter whether you're friend or foe. If they think you're evil, they will kill you. I'm sorry this had to happen to you, but I can't say it wasn't expected."

  "Will you allow me to join you?" Rella asked.

  "We'll have to decide as a group. We must be protective in our profession."

  "I'm not sure I want to join you as a bandit. I simply need somewhere to live."

  The leader put a hand on Rella's shoulder. "Well, banditry might be the best future you can find. Life in the Frozen Lands is difficult."

  "Life is already difficult," Rella said, a little more sharply than she'd intended. "I don't see how it can get much worse."

  "You say that now." The leader stepped away, motioning for Rella to follow. Rella did so with a queasy stomach. Soon they stepped into a clearing among the trees. In the center of that clearing, the other two bandits sat around the fire.

  One of the men looked up with narrowed eyes. He was young, with dark brown hair and a thick beard. "Who is this?"

  "The young Fireweaver hiding in that caravan," the leader said, directing Rella to a spot around the fire. Rella settled down, feeling as though she were in a cage being watched. The heat of the fire felt wonderful, though.

  "We don't want her," said the same man, casting aside the bone of some small animal he'd been eating. "Send her on her way."

  "She was discovered," the leader said. "She has no other options."

  The man's expression didn't soften. "That's not our problem. She isn't one of us. Only someone who's grown up in our world can understand what it's like for us. She should go back home, go into hiding there with the Brotherhood. She shouldn't enter our nation."

  "Your objections are noted, Soren," said the leader. She turned her attention to the rest of the bandits. "What do you think? Do you agree with Soren?"

  The other man, the one who'd been standing watch, cleared his throat. He had reddish hair and a face that hadn't seen a razor in a few days. That reminded her of Tarell, and she felt the pain of her loss.

  "I'll agree with whatever you want," the man said. "I trust your judgment in all things, Kae."

  "It's all right to disagree with me," Kae said.

  Rella couldn't look any of the bandits in the eye. She felt out of place here, more out of place than she'd ever felt among Sunweavers. That had been the comfortable world. The world of Azira, Tarell, and her father. How could she live without them?

  The other woman, blond and a few years younger than Kae, said, "We don't have to take her with us permanently, do we? I'm sure we can find out about her, and if we should trust her."

  "And what if she proves we can't trust her by killing us?" Soren said.

  Kae gave him a stern look. "There are four of us to one of her. Are you really worried that one Fireweaver, an inexperienced one, can kill us?"

  "Well, when you put it that way, perhaps not. Still, I don't trust her."

  I could say the same about you, Rella added silently. She felt at least a little comfortable with the other three, but Soren struck her as dangerous. His gaze lingered on her, dark and perceptive, and she trembled.

  "Then let's change that," Kae said, settling down across the fire from Rella. "Why should we trust you? I want your name and your story. Afterward, we'll make a decision."

  Rella struggled against tears once more. Could she tell her whole story to complete strangers so soon after saying goodbye to her friends?

  "My name is Rella. My father used to be involved with the Brotherhood of Fire. He met a woman there, a Fireweaver, and they fell in love. They didn't intend to have any children, but it happened. They hoped I'd inherited my father's Sunweaving, but I didn't. Before my father discovered I was a Fireweaver, though, he had to face my mother's execution."

  She paused a moment, taking deep breaths to stifle her tears. "I was ten years old at the time. My mother got exposed as a member of the Brotherhood, and the Sun Guard tested her and found out that she was a Fireweaver. My father wasn't implicated as a member. After her execution, he broke off from the Brotherhood, focusing on his business and raising me."

  A tear trickled down her cheek, and she wiped it away. "When I was fourteen, I came into my powers. Luckily, only my father was around. He saw my heat field and knew what I was immediately. We worked to help me shield my powers from view, but not well enough." She looked down at the rocky ground. "I'll understand if you don't want me."

  Tense silence hung in the air as she looked at each watching face.

  "How do we know you're telling the truth?" Soren asked.

  Rella felt a hot spike of anger. "Does it matter? I'm a Fireweaver, just like you. People like us need to stick together. The rest of the world hates us." She paused a moment, trying to think of the right argument. "And as Kae said, I'm not a danger."

  "Once again," Soren said,
"how do we know that?"

  "Has she shown any sign of hostility?" Kae said. "To me, she looks like a poor young woman who now has to leave behind everything she's ever known. Maybe you can ignore her needs, but I can't. She's right. Fireweavers need to stand together."

  "Well, we're doing a damned poor job of that," said the other man.

  Rella leaned forward with interest, almost too close to the fire. She'd heard little about the political situation in the Frozen Lands. She wanted to ask about it, but her voice failed her.

  Kae seemed to ignore the most recent comment. "It's time to decide," she said. "Will we allow Rella to stay with us, at least for the moment? I'm in favor."

  "As am I," said the other man. The second woman nodded her agreement.

  "I object," Soren said.

  "Well, you've been outvoted." Kae turned her gaze to Rella. "Welcome. I suppose it's time we all told you a little about yourselves. I'd imagine you feel quite nervous."

  "Perhaps a little."

  "Well, I'm Kae. I've lived among Fireweavers my whole life. We all have." She gestured to her left. "Andra here is my sister, and Tharik is my husband. Soren isn't related to us, but he's been a reliable man, whatever you might think of him at the moment." She paused, looking around and frowning. "Is there anything you'd like to ask us?"

  "How did you know I was a Fireweaver?"

  "I'm very skilled at reading heat fields," Kae said. "Most people can only see that you're a Fireweaver when you use your Fireweaving, but I can tell just by looking at you while doing an Orange/Yellow eave. It has made me a very good bandit. I can determine how many Sunweavers and Suncasters are in a group, and I can even get an idea of how powerful they are. I expected your group to be like many others, so I was surprised when I saw what you are."

  Rella had never heard of people with skills like that, but she supposed there were many things about the world she did not know. She'd lived a sheltered life.

  "I'd also like to know what you think of Tarileth," she asked.

  "That's a difficult question to answer," Kae said. "Politics in the Frozen Lands are not as simple as you'd think. I'm sure your Sunweaver Council has convinced you that everyone in the Frozen Lands is evil, that we all want to see Tarileth destroyed."

  "That sounds about right," Rella said. "I'm not sure I ever believed it, though."

  "With good reason," Kae said. "There are two primary factions here. Firelord Atarin is our ruler, but many see his views as extreme. He does believe in destroying Tarileth and all Sunweavers. In his eyes, Halarik gave us a gift, and we're meant to use it to take over the world. It might seem harsh, but when you view it from our perspective, Sunweavers are the oppressors."

  "I can understand that," Rella said, shivering and scooting closer to the fire. It was the best comfort she could find. "I've felt my whole life like I'm something inferior simply because of what I was born with."

  "That's how we've all felt," Kae said. "Our lives are bleak and cold, even with the power we draw from the core. Some of us are part of the Brotherhood of Fire, but Halarik's Chosen are currently in charge."

  "Are you part of the Brotherhood?" Rella asked, fearing the answer. She had heard horrible tales about Halarik's Chosen. They were the Fireweavers that gave Fireweavers a bad reputation. She prayed she hadn't fallen in with them.

  "Yes, we support the Brotherhood," Kae said, and the others nodded their agreement—except for Soren, who stared at Rella with narrowed eyes.

  "My father never told me anything about politics there," Rella said. "Like everyone else, he wanted to hide from the fact that the Frozen Lands exist. I don't understand it. You can't make something disappear by pretending it doesn't exist."

  "But you can put yourself in danger," Tharik said, meeting Rella's eyes. "Those of us who support the Brotherhood might not be in favor of military action, but Halarik's Chosen are. Firelord Atarin is. And we'll have to fight unless we rebel against him."

  "Why don't you rebel?" Rella asked, hating her lack of knowledge. Her father had mentioned Firelords in passing, but hadn't gone into detail. In fact, he'd changed the subject whenever she'd mentioned it.

  "We would suffer if we rebelled," Andra said. "The dying sun is not strong enough to support our lives here. Instead, we rely on Firelords. Without them, ordinary Fireweavers would take too much energy from the core, and the whole planet would die."

  "But how can Atarin also lead?" Rella asked, feeling stupid. "The Sunlord lacks the energy to do anything other than keep the sun going. Doesn't being Firelord drain this Atarin?"

  "Perhaps a little," Kae said. "But there are other Firelords. He only happens to be the most powerful. I'm not sure Firelord Atarin does much work fueling the core anymore. He has more important things on his mind."

  Rella shivered despite the fire. "Like invading Tarileth and killing all the Sunweavers."

  After all, she had heard of Atarin. According to High Priest Teravin of the Church of Aralea, Atarin was worse than any other Fireweaver, almost as bad as Halarik himself. The Church didn't know much beyond that, however, or at least they didn't reveal it to everyone.

  Kae ran a hand through her brown hair. "Well, that is his ultimate goal. That's why some of us have to band together and stand against him. It's not easy, though. He has the power."

  "She's right," Tharik said. "There is little we can do."

  "And little we should do," Soren added. Rella had the sudden feeling that Soren held sympathies toward Atarin. She couldn't prove it, though, and she didn't want to voice her concerns, afraid she might anger Kae and the others.

  "All we focus on is surviving," Tharik said. "If war comes, it comes."

  "Will you fight Sunweavers?" Rella asked, feeling sick.

  Tharik chewed on his lower lip. "Well, I can't say I like Sunweavers too much. I understand that some are good, some are bad, and most are in between. That's the way it is with anyone. But the people who have the power, they're the ones forcing you into this life."

  "I know," Rella said. "I can't decide if I hate them. I have every reason to, but my father is one. I know many good people in Tarileth. The people aren't the problem."

  "Your Church is," Andra said. "Your government is."

  With a smile, Soren turned his gaze to Rella. "That's why people support Atarin. He will change the world whether we like it or not."

  A shudder passed through Rella. Her world had seen enough change as of late.

  Chapter 10: The Fate of the Lightless

  Kadin sat in a closed wooden wagon that trundled along the rocky roads east of Illindel. Beside him sat Faina and the other slave their owner had purchased. An overseer kept watch over them while a driver led the carriage along. Their owner and another overseer sat in a carriage a good distance ahead.

  "How're you feeling?" Kadin asked, glancing at Faina, unsure if they were allowed to speak. The overseer watched them with no expression.

  "I'm trying to remain positive," she said, casting a furtive glance toward the next wagon.

  Kadin stifled a bitter laugh. "I've given up on that."

  The overseer cleared his throat. "Slavery isn't as bad as you think. Do your job, and you won't give us any reason to hurt you." His gaze lingered on Faina, as though he wanted to say something more, but then he looked away.

  The overseers had removed the chains from Faina and the other slave, a man maybe ten years older than Kadin with a short, dark beard.

  Kadin turned to him. "You haven't said anything."

  "I see no reason," the man said, looking down at his knees as the wagon bounced.

  "If we're going to work with each other," Kadin said, "we should probably get to know each other. You expect to go the whole time without talking to anyone?"

  The man shrugged, looking away. "I don't care what you have to say."

  Nice man, Kadin thought. "Can't you at least tell us your name?"

  "Helvin. You happy now?"

  "Not really," Kadin said. "But that doesn't have anythi
ng to do with you." He turned to the overseer. "Who is our owner? I'd like to know who I'm supposed to be serving."

  The overseer scratched his bearded chin. "His name's Andric. He's a Sunweaver and owns a large plantation. I'm Marell, one of the overseers. We're all Suncasters. That's how most plantations work. Sunweaver owner, Suncaster overseers, Lightless slaves."

  Faina chuckled, but without humor. "That sounds a lot like the world in general."

  "Perhaps it is," Marell said, smiling with amusement. "Very perceptive for a Lightless slave."

  Kadin kept his voice low, leaning close to Marell. It wasn't his nature to trust people, but Marell struck him as trustworthy. "I've heard bad stories about Andric," he said. "The Sun Guard who sold us said he treats his slaves badly."

  Marell glanced toward the next wagon. Andric and the other overseer were deep in conversation, paying no attention to the conversation behind them.

  Marell kept his voice low. "Here's my advice. Don't do anything that attracts his attention. Most of the time, the overseers deal with slaves. Some of us are harsher than others."

  "I'm hoping you won't be too harsh," Kadin said, feeling sick.

  "I try to be fair. I won't punish you more than necessary, but if you shirk your duties, I will not hesitate to whip you. Andric paid good money for you. As an employee of his, it's in my best interest to make sure you give him a return on that investment."

  Kadin had so many questions he had trouble deciding which to ask. Finally, he said, "What happens to us if we don't work hard enough? Can you kill us?"

  "Not legally," Marell said, his voice surprisingly patient. Kadin's father never would have put up with so many questions. "But that doesn't mean accidents don't happen. The Sun Guard doesn't look too deeply into what happens to slaves. As I said, you don't want to attract unnecessary attention."

  The cart continued rumbling along. A chilly breeze drifted over them. Kadin looked up at the dim sun, feeling once more its impending death. Should he ask Marell about that?

  No. He wasn't sure he trusted Marell that much.

  "Underperforming slaves are often returned to the Sun Guard," Marell continued after a long silence. "Then they have to serve out their sentences in prison. Life as a slave might not be great, but prison is far, far worse. Here, you'll at least get some freedom." His expression became stern. "And don't even think of running away. A runaway slave earns a death sentence."