Facing the Fire

by Carol Beth Anderson

  “The two of you must not under any circumstances use magic in public,” Benisa said. “As long as you’re cautious, you should be safe. No one knows you, so you don’t have to worry about getting turned in by neighbors or relatives.”

  Tavi turned to Ellea. “Please tell us about your book. And I want to know why my father and Officer Andisis came with you. And why didn’t you wait until spring to travel?”

  “We talked about waiting,” Ellea said, “but our goals were too urgent. It was worth it to brave the cold. But I’m getting ahead of myself.”

  She began describing the book she’d spent years writing, a manual on midwifery meant for midwives of all experience levels. “I copied the entire manuscript, then sent it to a printer in Tinawe a year ago,” Ellea said. “I asked for fifty copies, though I didn’t know what I’d do with all of them. When they arrived a few months ago, I suddenly knew.”

  She looked around the table, meeting the eyes of each Gold who’d lived in Oren. “I’ve thought of all of you every day. When I heard about what happened on Liberation Day, I knew things had gone terribly wrong. More than anything, I wanted to help make things right again.”

  “In the months after the coronation, I corresponded with midwives around Cormina, asking their opinions on our nation’s changes. Before I tell you what I found, I’d like to know how the midwives here in Savala responded. Benisa, you were aware of gray magic before most, since the Golds lived here. But when your colleagues around the city learned of its existence, how did they react?”

  “They were gravely concerned,” Benisa said. “Midwives are the conservators of magic, and they knew nothing about this new power. I didn’t think anything good could come of me sharing what I knew. Some midwives approached members of the new government with questions.”

  “What was the response?”

  Benisa raised her eyebrows. “They were greeted with half-truths at best and outright hostility at worst.”

  “Are the midwives in the city angry?” Ellea asked.

  “Very.”

  Ellea nodded. “That is the case all over Cormina.” She looked at Jenevy, who was leaning forward and nodding.

  Ellea reached across the table and took Jenevy’s hand. “You see it, don’t you?”

  “Our government doesn’t understand,” Jenevy said. “They should try to keep midwives on their side. Everyone respects the people who bring children into the world and give blessing breaths. And at some point, midwives connect with every family in a community.” She paused to smile. “I’ve never thought of it this way, but if midwives are as angry as you’re both saying, it wouldn’t take much to turn them into the perfect resisters.”

  “Precisely.” Ellea let go of Jenevy’s hand. “If you’ll all excuse me for a moment, I need to fetch something.” She stepped out of the room. When she returned, she had a leather-bound book in her hand. She held it up, and Jenevy read the gold text on the cover aloud: “Midwifery: A Manual for Practical and Karian Midwives, by Ellea Kariana.”

  “I’ve been bringing these books to midwife houses in various cities and towns for the last ten weeks,” Ellea said. “I always offer to train the midwives in person, and when we meet, we don’t just talk about pregnancy and childbirth. I also try to discern their responses to the new monarchy. In nearly every case, I’ve found they’re ready to join the resistance. They just need a little push.”

  “What are they doing to resist?” Jenevy asked.

  “They’re doing what they always do. Talking to people in their communities. Commiserating with families who are struggling—and there are plenty of those, thanks to the new taxes. And when it’s appropriate, they bring up the possibility of changing things. When we find a way to dethrone Relin and Camalyn, these midwives will support it. In many cases, they may even fight for it.”

  “And they aren’t the only ones,” Jevva said.

  Tavi looked at her father, who explained why he’d chosen to travel with Ellea. Savani shepherds shared the midwives’ concerns about gray magic, and they were doubly afraid that the new government would limit religious freedom. Each time they entered a new city or town so Ellea could train the midwives, Jevva met with the shepherds. Some clergy members were beginning what he called a “whisper campaign”: spreading their concerns in private conversations with parishioners, until it was time to shout their dissent from the rooftops.

  Officer Andisis had taken on the riskiest role in their travels. He’d come along because he was certain there were other safety officers who, like him, didn’t trust their new monarchy. Konner had worked with safety officers in Savala for years, and he’d sent many of them to lead safety offices around the country. Every officer was expected to give absolute allegiance to the throne.

  But Officer Andisis had relationships with officers around Cormina, many of whom he’d trained with in Savala decades before. Whenever possible, he connected with people he trusted in the cities and towns they visited. He found that a number of officers were biding their time, waiting until they could rise up against the nation’s new leadership.

  Benisa looked at the clock on the wall. “Oh dear, it’s getting late,” she said. “I’m working early tomorrow. Shall we find a place for the three of you to sleep?”

  “We’d appreciate that,” Jevva said, “but after tonight, we’ll stay at a parish hall with a shepherd I know. I’m sure you’re full here.”

  It was true. The two rooms upstairs were crammed full of Golds; pallets had been brought in to accommodate all nine of them. But there was a couch upstairs, plus two currently unused birthing rooms. Benisa made all the arrangements, and everyone headed to bed.

  After climbing up to her bunk, Tavi gazed out the window for a long time. The sky was clear, and uncountable stars glimmered across the blackness, shedding light on the city.

  The Golds were a tiny constellation of stars in the darkness of the new monarchy. And for the first time, Tavi realized they were surrounded by hundreds, perhaps thousands, of other lights. People who wanted change. People who would fight to bring Cormina’s brightness back.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Everything seems topsy-turvy since you left. Tinawe has gone backward—in civility, cleanliness, and organization. Every day I perceive more vitriol and less respect toward our king and queen. And now, the truth of gray magic has reached our city. Magic, which should be comforting and peaceful, has taken on a frightening, violent undertone.

  Will life ever return to normal? Will you ever return at all?

  - Sharla Stemming to Colonel Kav Stemming, from Year One: Correspondence in the Corminian Kingdom

  The day after Ellea, Jevva, and Officer Andisis arrived, the Golds gave themselves a day off from planning the resistance. They showed their new visitors what they’d meant the night before when they’d described “playing with magic,” and Tavi’s father and Ellea shared as many embarrassing stories of the Oren Golds’ childhoods as they could think of.

  After lunch, Ellea whispered to Tavi, “I haven’t seen your father laugh so much since . . .”

  “Ever?” Tavi suggested.

  Ellea chuckled. “Yes. Since ever.”

  When the three newcomers left after dinner to walk to the parish hall where they hoped to stay, Tavi felt an odd sense of loss. She’d see them the next day, after all. But after so many hard days and months, it had been a good day. A perfect day. She didn’t want it to end.

  The following morning, everything took a turn for the worse.

  Tavi woke with cramps. Her mother cycle didn’t usually bother her much, but this month had certainly crossed the line from “annoying” to “painful.” She stomped down the stairs and found an apprentice midwife who gave her some painkilling tea. When it took effect, she felt better, but she was a bit woozy.

  She crawled back in bed and napped most of the morning. By lunchtime, the cramps were gone, and most of the tea’s effects had worn off. The bad mood she’d woken with, however, persisted. But she couldn’t sta
y in her bedroom all day; her father, Ellea, and Officer Andisis would be coming over. They arrived just as Tavi, Narre, and Sall were finishing cleaning up the lunch dishes.

  “Have you heard about the killings?” Officer Andisis asked, his voice excited and loud.

  The room was silent. Tavi looked up from the bowl she was drying. “Killings?”

  “Gray magic killings!” Officer Andisis said. “Surely you’ve heard something—at least about the first one!”

  “We don’t know anything about them,” Sall said.

  Benisa rushed in. “I can hear you down the hall!” she said, her eyes flashing with anger. “And so can the mother I was examining, who’s having far too many contractions at this point in her pregnancy and needs to stay calm at all costs!”

  “Oh.” Officer Andisis was suddenly quiet. “I’m sorry.”

  Tavi smirked. There weren’t many people who could intimidate Oren’s head safety officer, but an indignant midwife had brought him down with a few words.

  “Is there a place we can talk?” Ellea asked Benisa.

  “The common room on the second floor,” Benisa said. “Quietly.”

  Tavi gathered the other Golds and went upstairs.

  “Have any of you heard about the murders in the city?” Officer Andisis asked again.

  “One of the students we’ve been working with told me some rumor about a gray magic killing,” Ash said. “Something about a seamstress or a tailor? I thought it was just gossip. This particular student seems to want to impress me.”

  Laughter escaped Tavi’s nose in an undignified snort, but it went unnoticed, since most of the other Golds were laughing too. One of the Savalan students had a terrible crush on Ash. Tavi didn’t want any of the Gold apprentices becoming too close to Ash. But there didn’t seem to be any cause for concern; Ash’s disinterest was abundantly clear to everyone except the girl in question.

  “It’s not funny,” Officer Andisis said, and the laughter stopped. “A gifted tailor fired his gifted apprentice. So she stole his breath, killed him, and ran down the street with her hands glowing gray. She was caught, and the officials here have tried to shut down the rumors. Which never works.”

  The mood in the room turned grim. “You said ‘killings,’ didn’t you?” Sall asked. “Has there been another one?”

  “Two more,” Officer Andisis replied. “Both bodies found this morning. One of them appeared to have been killed just hours before. The other had probably been dead for several days. Both gifted.”

  “Who did it?” Narre asked.

  “We don’t know.”

  Tavi’s eyes grew wide, and a sudden shiver shook her body. Two anonymous people were running around Savala with gray magic. The Golds couldn’t do anything about it, though. Organizing a resistance was enough work; they weren’t about to become amateur detectives.

  “I do have some good news,” Officer Andisis said. He told them he’d met with a safety officer that morning. The man was an old friend, and he’d opened up to Officer Andisis about his disdain for the current government. Jevva, too, had already struck up a productive conversation with the shepherd at the parish hall where they were staying.

  The meeting broke up, and Tavi went into her room to lie down and think. When she came back out half an hour later, Tullen and Jenevy were still in the common room, talking. Jenevy invited her to join them, but Tavi gave them a smile she hoped appeared real, then went downstairs.

  Time to give up on this day turning good.

  The next morning, Les Andisis sat in the kitchen of the parish hall, enjoying a cup of tea. It was early, just past dawn. His fellow travelers were still sleeping, and the shepherd hosting them hadn’t arrived yet.

  Someone knocked on the back door, just across from where Andisis stood. After peeking through the curtains, Andisis opened the door.

  “Jarles, you’re up early!” he said.

  “I could say the same for you,” Jarles replied. “Can I come in?”

  “Sure, have a seat. Tea?”

  “No, thanks.”

  Andisis sat and looked expectantly at Jarles, who remained standing. It had been good to reconnect with his old friend and even better to learn that Jarles hoped to use his position as a safety officer to fight against the king and queen. This morning, however, Jarles wore civilian clothes.

  “Will you come with me?” Jarles asked. “You’ve got to see something.”

  Andisis waited for more explanation, but when it didn’t come, he shrugged and stood. “Sure.” He put on his coat and hat and followed Jarles out the door.

  “You planning to tell me where we’re going?” Andisis asked as Jarles led him down the street.”

  “To the office of safety.”

  “Why?”

  “You’ll see.”

  They walked in silence for a few minutes, and then Jarles said, “Yesterday was the deadline for gifted registrations. Did you hear about that?”

  “Sure did.” Andisis glanced at Jarles. “I heard it applies to visitors too?”

  Jarles raised his eyebrows. “Yes, but I don’t know any gifted visitors in town. Do you?”

  Andisis chuckled. “None at all.” Jarles knew about his friend’s weak hearing gift, but apparently he wasn’t going to make an issue of it. Andisis didn’t mention Ellea’s touch gift, though he was certain Jarles would protect her too.

  “So does this have something to do with the registrations?” Andisis asked when they’d walked another two blocks with no further conversation.

  “It does.”

  Andisis shook his head. He might as well stop asking and keep walking.

  Twenty minutes later, Andisis slowed his steps. “What’s going on up there?” He pointed half a block down the street where dozens of people seemed to be converging on one building.

  “That’s the office of safety I work at,” Jarles looked over his shoulder. “Pick up the pace!”

  They stopped across the street from the office of safety and watched. This close, it was clear what was happening. Officers were leading people, sometimes in groups of two or three, into the large building.

  “Are they all being arrested?” Andisis asked.

  “They are.”

  Andisis watched, slowly shaking his head. Jarles had told him this office of safety was the second largest in the city, and it had the most jail cells. But surely they didn’t have enough cells for this many people. And there were still officers entering the street from both ends, leading more poor souls toward the building.

  “How are they all going to fit?” Andisis asked.

  “They said they’ll put as many in one cell as they need to.”

  “Come on, Jarles, just tell me what’s going on here.”

  Jarles finally looked at Andisis. “These people are all Blessed who didn’t register, or they’re parents who didn’t register their gifted offspring. If the children are at least thirteen, they get arrested along with their parents.”

  Andisis gaped. “Good thing it’s winter, or they’d boil, all crammed into those cells.”

  Jarles shook his head. “The king and queen said to let them sit in the cells for a few hours, then give them a chance to register. Once they comply, we’ll send them home. This is all about sending a message.”

  “How did you even find this many people to arrest?”

  Jarles held up his hands. “I didn’t play any part in this. They have me investigating those murders, not arresting innocent people. But apparently citizens have been coming forward for days with names of unregistered people. Most of them wanted to claim the reward.”

  “You said the deadline didn’t pass until today!”

  With a shrug, Jarles said, “The king and queen couldn’t have been happier to get the names early. The list isn’t accurate, but if the accused shows the officer their leather bracelet, they’re off the hook.”

  “People are turning in their friends? Their neighbors?”

  “And their relatives. All for a few chi
ps. But so many people are hurting for money, thanks to the king’s taxes.”

  “They’ve raised taxes, making people desperate, and now they’re giving people an answer to their desperation. Just turn in the gifted people who annoy you. The ones who haven’t gotten around to registering.”

  “That’s pretty accurate,” Jarles admitted.

  They watched as safety officers continued to herd Blessed into the building. Andisis watched in wonder. They’re taking these people’s rights away. How is it that it all looks so polite and orderly?

  “Two more!” Konner shouted.

  Camalyn sat on her leather throne, nibbling on one of Relin’s pastries. It was the first thing she’d actually enjoyed eating that week, and now Konner was ruining it by shouting at her and Relin.

  But she didn’t really blame him for being angry. The head safety officer in the city had tried to hide the two newest murders, knowing the news would upset Konner. It was a stupid thing to do. Now Konner was even more infuriated than he would’ve been if he’d heard about it the day before.

  “This must stop!” On the final word, Konner stomped his foot, and Camalyn laughed.

  Konner marched onto the platform and stood directly in front of Camalyn. He leaned down, putting his face inches away from hers. She was suddenly aware of the danger of being with a belligerent man in a building where her magic meant nothing. She’d always thought if Konner tried to attack her, she could activate her magic and tell a guard to kill him. Not now.

  “Why are you laughing?” Konner asked.

  She wouldn’t tell him it was due to his little tantrum. Instead, she said, “You brought us onto your team by telling us you wanted to create a world where people fought for power. Now that’s happening, and you hate it.”