Girl of Fire

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Girl of Fire Page 8

by Gabrielle Mathieu

He would not send me away. He needed me. I began talking. I left nothing out.

  * * *

  When I was done, I sat trembling. He rose. Walked over. Deliberately put both hands on my shoulders, pushing past his reserve, lending me his steadiness. He stepped back and looked at me, smiling. “At last. I found you. We will keep you safe from her.”

  “You know what she wants with me?”

  “Like the Elders, she knows some of the future. Your coming was foretold. You will stand against her.”

  I choked back an incredulous laugh. “Me? The oldest creature on earth, and I am to defeat her? Shandon, I’m not even eighteen. I can barely ride a horse, much less fight with a sword.”

  “You will not need a sword against her. We will teach you to use one so you can protect yourself from her pawns. Remember your father. She has a gift for using us against each other, coaxing out the worst in us.”

  “So how am I supposed to kill her, if not with a sword? Is there a special spell or something?”

  Even in the dark, I saw the sadness rise in his eyes. “There is no weapon that I know of.”

  “Then what are we doing?”

  “Waiting for events to unfold, to show us the way. Each decision will bring you closer to the truth.”

  “What truth would that be?”

  “Something in you, not something you wield or something you learn.”

  “But if only I was an expert with the sword or could do magic. Would that not help?”

  “It would keep you alive until the final trial. Do not fret. I am Master of the Scrolls. All the wisdom that I have I will share. I can persuade Kendall to train you as well.”

  “Why wouldn’t she be eager to help me? Doesn’t she want to defeat the Demon?”

  “No one knows about you. For your own safety, Berona, no one can know. There is a traitor among us, and I cannot protect you against someone whose identity I do not know.”

  I closed my eyes, despair tickling its way down my spine. There was no plan. No weapon. Only a traitor. A deep sigh escaped me.

  “We must leave at dawn. We should rest now.”

  I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

  Shandon gave me an encouraging smile. “We’ll figure this out together.”

  “She said I’d be alone.”

  “She will not turn me against you, Berona. Once I failed those under my care, because of my own weakness. Never again. As long as I live, you have my friendship and protection.”

  We took the short walk to the farmer’s house, only to find the door barred and the lights out.

  “Perhaps it’s better you sleep with me and the beasts,” Shandon said. “A spell should help you find some rest.”

  I tensed. As kind as Shandon was, he was still a man. He made a small sound, more like a cough than a laugh. “You are right to be careful. Most men are steered by their lust. But believe me when I say you are safe with me. I am not made like others.”

  I remembered his reluctance to help us pin our tunics when we first rode, and I thought he told the truth.

  CHAPTER 11

  Berona

  As promised, the spell settled me into a peaceful sleep, but when Shandon woke me, the fear reared up. I still had so many questions. When I began talking, Shandon shook his head. His face was haggard. He must have stayed awake all night.

  “Saddle your mare. We still have three days to Yassin. I must warn the Council.”

  “You’ll tell them?”

  “Not about you. I’ll share some lines of the prophecy, though. We must send someone to secure the prison where the Elementals are. I hope the Demon came straight to you and is only now on the hunt for its location.”

  Another thing to fear. “What happens if the Elementals get out?”

  “Earthquakes. Fires. Floods. Landslides.” Shandon tightened the panniers on the beater. “Let’s go.”

  I tossed the saddle onto the mare, who danced nervously.

  “You’re unsettling her,” Shandon pointed out.

  Tears sprang to my eyes. The Demon, the Intercessor, a traitor, and now Elementals. When would it end? The mare puffed out her belly against the saddle strap, and I yanked on the leather with all my strength, losing my balance when she shuffled sideways.

  I got up to find the broken saddle strap in my hand and the saddle on the straw. The vulgar curse that came out of Shandon’s mouth surprised me.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said.

  He caught himself. “Good thing I’ve got a beater. He can carry both of us for a day, though it will slow us down. I’ll coax the mare to follow. We’ll have to stop at the shoemaker’s place this afternoon, but the town is not far from the route.”

  * * *

  The beater huffed its way up the steep mountain pass and down the other side, past cascading waterfalls and a dark forest of spruce and chestnut. The great beast was more tired now than five days ago, when it carried only Shandon. The mare followed, swaying but docile after Shandon’s spell.

  The mountains settled down into high hills cut through with ravines. By noon, the countryside stretched wide and level. We made our way back to the King’s Road, passing hedgerows heavy with sloe berries, then fences made of plaited willow twigs, behind which cattle grazed.

  It was late afternoon by the time we saw the town walls of Gaeca. Men riding by frowned at the sight of Shandon’s Robe. A woman walking a pig along the road tittered nervously. “Why are you still wearing that?” I hissed in Shandon’s ear. “Didn’t we have enough trouble with the Intercessor?”

  His voice was unnaturally calm, as if he made an effort to control himself. “I do not like to hide what I am.”

  “But Shandon, you said yourself we had to get to Yassin. Why take a chance?”

  “Some things are too important to set aside.”

  If he had been near our river, I might have thought the Demon put this nonsense in his head. I gritted my teeth and tried to arrange the edges of my own cloak over his, though it scarcely helped. At least the town gate was open, and there was no guard about. People rushed down the main street toward where I thought the marketplace might be, gesturing and gossiping. We had been lucky enough to arrive in the midst of a commotion—perhaps a theater troupe setting up, or a public shaming.

  We rode past the rich merchant houses of peach-colored sandstone, set back from the cobblestone avenue. Shandon helped me dismount and we turned right onto a narrower street, lined with two-story wooden buildings that had shops on the ground floor. We passed a bookbinder and a carter before we reached a cobbler’s shop, where Shandon tied our mounts to the hitching post. A real glass window showed off rows of neat ladies’ slippers outfitted with heels, sturdy boots made for the fighting man, and a variety of satchels, purses, and water bags. I glimpsed saddles hanging in the back. The customers, mostly gentle-borne, entered and exited the shop in a steady stream.

  I laughed at a plump woman, tottering out the door on a pair of dainty new red slippers with slender heels. Then I saw a youth come outside and my rude snickers stuck in my throat.

  Soft, curly, dark hair fell to his broad shoulders and he had tanned skin, which made his blue-gray eyes seem a startling color. His teeth were even and white against the faint blush that stained his cheeks. A thin shirt of the finest bleached linen moved like a breath against his strong chest.

  I smiled at him and was rewarded by his appreciative glance. His eyes got big as he took in my hair.

  Did he fancy redheads? I hoped so. It would be so sweet to be trothed to someone like this.

  Shandon seemed put off. “Shall I introduce you both? Or would you like to dispense with such formalities?”

  “We need to go inside. Now,” the youth said.

  * * *

  He slammed the door behind us and pulled a heavy cloth curtain across the window. The shop smelled like leather and horsehide glue. An older man, handsome and obviously the youth’s father, sat on a stool, wielding a small hammer. When he saw us he stopped.


  “Lord Shandon.”

  Shandon flushed. “I’m no longer a lord. Greetings, my friend.”

  “To what do we owe the honor of a visit?”

  “Two mounts and only one saddle,” Shandon explained. “The strap and buckle tore right off the other one, and it was too heavy to bring.”

  “Bad luck. Well, I’ve got some good saddles in the storehouse. Make yourselves comfortable. My son will serve you refreshments.”

  “One of the saddles here will do fine,” Shandon said.

  “These aren’t the good ones. You don’t want another one breaking on you.”

  “We’re in a hurry.”

  “You look like you need a rest and a meal.”

  “Oh, please, Shandon,” I said. “Couldn’t we at least have a light refreshment?” We’d only eaten dried meat from his pouch, and I was hungry, but that was not the real reason I wished to linger. The reason stood in front of me, now scowling. I wondered if he’d heard my stomach growl.

  Shandon sighed. “Thank you for the hospitality. Some fruit and cheese would be pleasant.”

  “I’ll fetch those saddles then. Kea, see to our guests.” The shoemaker went out abruptly, leaving the shoe half done, without even clamping it. It wouldn’t turn out well that way. I wondered if he had fire affinity like me, given to bursts of enthusiasm. He hadn’t looked that happy, though.

  The youth made no move to get us refreshments, but I was fine with that. He was a feast for the eyes.

  “I’m Kea,” he said, all in a rush. “Are you Berona?”

  “Yes.” I was surprised. “How do you know my name?”

  “Because the Chosen just chalked your likeness onto the walls of the marketplace, along with your name. I recognized you when I saw your hair.”

  Ice trickled down my spine. Shandon jumped up. “We’ve got to go!”

  “Not out the front. People will have seen you arrive.” He swung a thick bar down to block the front door, grabbed a bag from the rack, and threw some coins and a water bottle into it. A cloak hung on a peg and Kea tossed that at Shandon. “Wear this. Take off your Robe.”

  “It’s…”

  “You are putting us in harm’s way,” I said.

  Shandon hesitated. His lips trembled.

  Kea sailed a hat through the air at me. “Best I can do. Wear that over your hair. We’ll go out the back door.”

  “You cannot protect me while you wear that Robe,” I told Shandon.

  Shandon sighed, shrugged it off, and stepped over the puddle of discarded yellow cloth. He pushed me down the hallway after Kea.

  “This way.” He turned to Kea. “Wait. You can’t come with us.”

  “I can, and I will. Father has fetched the guards. They’ll know I warned you.”

  * * *

  Saved by a real hero. This was more like it. Kea, with his decisive manner and commanding air, was like the men in the ballads. He was only a year or two older than I was, but here he was leading us down a network of shaded alleys, around the midden heaps and puddles.

  “Tell me right now what happened,” Shandon commanded.

  “The Chosen heard you stop by here sometimes. They came to Father and threatened him. Word on the street is you killed an Intercessor.” Shandon shuddered, and I felt bewildered. What had happened to the man? We had left him safe.

  Kea put his hands on his hips and looked at Shandon. “Did you?”

  “You have known me since you were a child,” Shandon remonstrated. “How could you think me capable of killing a captive. How did he die?”

  Kea turned to me. “Many claim the girl demon killed him. Something about your orange eyes.” He studied me. “They’re really quite pretty.”

  We emerged from the back alleys onto a small street lined with wooden huts, surrounded by fenced yards. A chicken squawked. When two women carrying baskets full of onions walked toward us, I dropped my eyes.

  “We can’t go back for the horses. I’ll lead us to the north city gate. It’s not used much. You’ll have to figure out how to get us past the guard. But you’re a magician.”

  This time Shandon didn’t deny it. “North is the direction of water, my element. Let’s hope it brings me luck.”

  * * *

  The man who guarded the north gate wore the uniform of the town bailiff.

  “I’ve got to hang back. He knows me,” Kea explained.

  “I’ll go ahead. Wait in the shadow of the pillar,” Shandon instructed. “You’ll see when it’s time.”

  “We’ll be noticeable. Just idling.”

  “Then put your arms around her and turn your back to the street. You’re taller. You can hide her from sight.” Public affection was accepted, as long as it followed the announcement of a handfasting.

  Kea pulled me into his arms, nuzzling my neck and setting off thrills. I moved closer without even thinking, then remembered I was supposed to watch Shandon. I tried to keep my eyes on him as delicious feelings shivered through me.

  Shandon strolled up to the man and looked around curiously, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “It’s unusual to see the bailiff himself guarding the gate. Are you expecting trouble?” Shandon used a nice voice, letting his words form clearly, like the well bred did.

  “Two garrisons of Amur’s Chosen arrived shortly after lunch. Quite a commotion. I’m responsible for inspecting everyone who enters and leaves, and I’ve been out here since dawn. I’ll be locking up soon.” He yawned.

  “Who are you looking for?”

  “A Mannite and a girl. The Mannite masquerades as a Lord. The girl’s a demon.”

  “There be some right strange things in this world. Up since dawn, eh? I wish you a restful evening, at least.”

  “Thanks for your concern, Sire. But I’ve got to ask you as well, who you are, and what your business was in town. And I’ll need to look at your belongings.”

  “You must be tired. So tired. Keeping watch all day.” It was as if a swarm of bees issued from Shandon’s lips—golden, fat, happy, little bees.

  The man’s head nodded ever so slightly. He caught himself. “It’s my job.”

  Again, Shandon repeated his words, and his voice was so droning, so quiet, that it slipped into my head and soothed its way into my thoughts. Kea slid his hands over my ears. Shandon loomed over the bailiff. Shadows settled as the sun itself seemed to slide heavily down behind the watch towers. I felt a sharp pinch on my leg.

  “Go now,” Kea said.

  * * *

  We slipped through while Shandon kept up his talk, not taking his eyes from the man. His chin nodded to his chest, his eyes fluttered with the effort of keeping them open.

  “Well done,” Shandon told him. “You’ve decided I’m free to go.” His hand moved quickly, detaching the heavy gate key from the bailiff’s belt.

  The man mumbled sleepily while a passerby, an old woman, regarded the scene warily. Shandon smiled at her as we stepped through the gate. He locked it behind us. Her mouth opened and she stared at us.

  “We’ve got a little time before she finds the Chosen and they come out of another gate and circle around,” Shandon said, setting the key down in plain sight on a rock.

  “You’re just going to leave that here?” I asked.

  “Yes. I hope they don’t punish him harshly. Kea, can you find us a hiding place till dusk?”

  “I’ve got just the thing. Up this road a bit and then we can head off into the forest.”

  * * *

  We found ourselves in a nice sunlit glade in the middle of thick woods. Kea had pointed us to a hidden path between the brambles, and we were shielded from view.

  “You’re sure the Chosen don’t know about this place?” Shandon said.

  “If they did, there would be some young women in trouble,” Kea answered, smirking. “It’s a good place to hide from prying eyes.”

  Some of these town girls must be quite lax. Though if it was Kea doing the asking, I’d have a hard time saying no.

 
We sat down. When Kea passed around a bag of watered wine, I gulped some down. My tongue felt stuck to the roof of my mouth; I’d been panting while we walked, trying to appear as if we weren’t hurrying.

  Shandon took out some maps from his rucksack and studied them. A few days ago, I’d been at ease with him, but his foreboding expression now prevented me from speaking. Instead, I smiled at Kea.

  “You’re going to become a Robe too?”

  “Yes. I plan to become a great magician.”

  Shandon glanced up. “Your father will never forgive me.”

  Kea looked astonished. “You’re not angry? He betrayed you.”

  “If he did, it was because they threatened him. It was no secret he was friends with a Mannite, a Mannite who could afford custom-made shoes and a scabbard for a noble sword. The Intercessor’s men would have guessed that Mannite was Shandon, former Lord of Angur.”

  “Father knew I wanted to leave, be more than a shoemaker. He’d talked with you about me joining,” Kea pointed out.

  “But not like this.” Shandon’s expression was stern.

  “I can’t go back. You’ll just have to take me to the castle along with Berona. She’ll be good company for me.”

  Shandon said, “We’re not going to the Mannite castle.”

  I tried to sit still, take the news the way a well-brought-up young woman should. But heat burned in me, and I stood up, glaring at Shandon. “The castle is safe. That’s where the female warrior is, and the powerful Council.”

  “Yes, Yassin is safe, but I can’t get you there.” Shandon raised his fingers, ticking off the reasons. “The Chosen will be expecting us to head to our stronghold in the mountains of Nuya. They’ll be watching carefully. Your eyes make you recognizable. I’m almost out of funds and can’t afford lodgings and horses for three people.”

  “We can sleep outside,” Kea argued.

 

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