Girl of Fire

by Gabrielle Mathieu

  A commotion on the deck interrupted his train of thought. A stocky, well-clad man with curly hair shouted from the dock. Luca blinked. It was Calio, gesturing wildly for the ship to return.

  Yuvio frowned. “He’s still trying to stop you from going?”

  “No.” Luca suppressed a grin. “He’s decided to join us.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Berona

  The Demon’s face pressed against the rain-streaked glass of the inn’s second-story window. Her dark eyes locked onto Kea. She looked more substantial than before, her pale wet skin glowing and her reddened mouth partly open, showing wicked teeth. Dark hair, lank like pondweed, wound over her shoulders. Only the upper part of her body was visible, her breasts small and pointed. One narrow hand was raised, the long blue claws tapping on the window.

  Ice flowed in my veins, my heart stuttered, I fell to my knees. Despair. Alone, so alone. You bring ruin on all who love you.

  It seemed like no time had elapsed since I’d first seen her.

  She was eternal. I was a worm to be crushed, a pebble to be ground under her claws. My eyelids fluttered. Next to me I heard a low moan—Moab, face white, in a half swoon. Kea crouched, still holding my book, his face frozen, his eyes large in his wan face.

  She was going to hurt my friends. The thought galvanized me. I looked around the room for a better weapon than my sword. The fire had gone out.

  Water conquered fire.

  The leaded panes shuddered under the impact of her blow. She gained solidity as I watched, darkness surrounding her, compacting her.

  Behind me, I could hear the noise of someone moving. I had to keep my eyes on her. I raised my sword, desperate, sweating.

  Her mouth opened wide, wider than I thought anything could open. Blackness yawned behind her teeth. She was hungry, oh, so hungry. An eater of souls.

  Again, the window shuddered. A great crack opened.

  I needed magic. I had said a spell just before she appeared.

  This time I screamed it as the glass-leaded panes clattered to the floor and she clambered over the windowsill, folding slender, dark wings together.

  Engalad.

  She froze.

  There was a pause, as if the whole room sucked in its breath, getting ready to spew.

  The torch, flaming again, rose in the air and buried itself in her breast.

  She gave a thin, keening scream. Her claws came up as she scrabbled at the torch, trying to tear it out.

  I grabbed my bag and snatched my sword, then tore down the stairs, yelling at the others to come. At the bottom of the stairs stood the innkeeper, furious, holding up his staff. Kea pushed me to the side, levered a graceful kick, and the man went down like a sack of potatoes

  “Be careful,” I screamed, as I jumped over him.

  “What? What?”

  Kea paused, pity in his eyes. “Demon upstairs. Get everyone out.” Then he sprinted down the hall and out the door, followed by Moab and me.

  * * *

  We pelted through the town, our terror lending us speed. At one point, Kea stopped. “I forgot my bag.”

  Moab panted, “I grabbed your purse. Keep going.”

  “City gate,” I commanded. We started running again. When we reached the night watchman in his town livery, he looked startled. “I’ve locked up.”

  “It’s an emergency,” I said.

  “Well, I would suppose so. Are you carrying a sword, young lady?” My red hair caught his eye. The cap had fallen off again during our mad sprint.

  I drew my sword before he could ask more questions. “I insist you open.”

  “You’re breaking the law,” the man pointed out.

  Kea’s lips drew back from his teeth. “I’ll break your skull if you don’t let us out. You can tell the bailiff all about it later.”

  As we slipped out the gate the watchman had unlocked, he said, “I know that red hair. You’re the girl who burned the Intercessor to a crisp with her eyes. We’ll get you.”

  Burned the Intercessor to a crisp? That sounded more like the work of an Elemental. If they’d been free all this time, why hadn’t they come and killed me right away?

  * * *

  When we couldn’t run any longer, we trotted. By the time dawn broke, we were trudging along like a weary pack of mules.

  “Amur’s Chosen will be looking for us,” Kea said. “We need to get off the road.”

  “Mannites are looking for us too. Where are we?” I asked.

  “We left too fast. I don’t know. What was that thing at the window?”

  “You were the one who said her name.” My voice was small and shaken.

  Moab grabbed Kea’s arm. “The First Mother. That’s another name for the Water Demon.”

  “That was her,” I said. “She’s been looking for me.”

  Kea stopped in the middle of the road, face gone white. “Why?”

  I hated to lie, but I couldn’t tell him the truth. Not now, in the middle of fleeing. “It must be the Book. It has something to do with her.”

  “I thought they were spells.”

  “No spells have just one word. Those lists looked like names,” Moab said.

  “Names of Elementals,” I added, my voice coming out hoarse.

  “Then you called up a Fire Elemental? You’re not even an acolyte. How did you do that?” Kea wanted to know.

  “We’ve got to get to Yassin and see Shandon. Let’s try to figure out where we are, and then find some place to hide away from the road,” I said. Shandon would have answers for us.

  “Can she find us?” Kea asked.

  I shook my head. “I don’t know.” Despair filled me as I kept walking, limbs heavy. If water extinguished fire, how could I ever win?

  * * *

  We found a simple woodcutter’s shelter deep in the woods, and I tried to sleep while Kea stood the first watch. The recollection of her eyes drinking in Kea disturbed me. Did she think I cared about him? She was wrong.

  I must have finally slept. Moab woke me around noon and pressed some tea into my hands. He had dared to build a small fire, and we stood glumly, studying the map, our bellies rumbling with hunger. We had at least two more days to Yassin, assuming we could even find the hidden path.

  The day was overcast. We stayed off the King’s Road, wandering through pastures and down muddy lanes bordered by hawthorn and wild roses. When the rain started again, we kept on, shivering. Winter was not far off. We were afraid to ask for shelter at a farm. Our spirits faltered, and we looked back often, fearing Amur’s Chosen, or worse, another visit from the Demon. No one spoke of it, but how could we forget her poison gaze, her night-black wings, the window shattering as she attacked?

  If she couldn’t kill us, why had she broken the window to get at us? Perhaps it had something to do with the word Kea called out. It might have had the power to summon her; it could even be her true name. Had she hoped we would drop the Book in our panic?

  It was tucked away safely in my pack, though.

  I wiped some water off my face and huddled deeper into my sodden cloak. Dusk wasn’t close yet, but when I spotted a rocky outcropping at the bottom of a slope, I said, “Let’s get out of the rain.”

  * * *

  Kea sneezed, and I hunkered down into the slight shelter. The rain came down at a slant, prying into my hiding place. It felt like little needles of ice. Moab cursed as he tried for the third time to light our heap of soggy kindling. The flint struck each time, but the spark extinguished.

  “It’s her,” I said. “She’s doing it.”

  We hadn’t mentioned the Demon by name again. We were all afraid, afraid our words would give truth to the terrible creature we’d seen last night.

  “Just shut your mouth,” Kea said. His rude words didn’t cover the tremor in his voice.

  “Water controls fire. But only if fire is weak,” I said. I’d been pondering that, trying to apply the logic so dear to those with metal affinity. “It’s not an absolute. It’s relat
ive, based on the amount of each.”

  “All I know is that it’s too damn cold,” Kea said. “Give me the flint. I’ll get it started.” But he couldn’t either.

  Mist snaked along the mossy stones and the air was thick and gray. The Water Demon might appear at any moment, with her dark wings and blue claws, her pointed teeth. Could her Elementals be far behind?

  I gritted my teeth, fighting down my fear. I could force fire to appear, which would strengthen my nature. The name I found in the Book. It began with E. It wasn’t clear in my head anymore, all muddled together with impressions of our flight.

  The rain and mist continued to brood over our little patch, as the last glimmer of distant orange faded from a clear horizon. While Moab and Kea argued about adding more kindling, I took out the Book, unnoticed.

  As soon as I touched it, it sprang to life, opening easily to the section I sought. The raindrops that hit the pages of orange ink splattered and hissed, then disappeared. There were no marks on the page.

  I spotted the magic word. Engalad.

  I heard a man’s baritone voice, quite clear, as if he stood by me. “I will help you, one last time. In return, you must come to the Western Wilderness. We have work to do.”

  “What?” I said, shocked.

  A chuckle. “You will come, I am sure. It is destined.” I felt a presence, a flick, a warmth as if someone smiled, and then the flames burst into life, so beautiful, so gay.

  Then nothing, just the sizzling of the flames, and the frown on Kea’s face.

  * * *

  In a flash, he was on me, the Book ripped out of my arms. “Are you mad?” he cried.

  “Give that back!”

  “It’s not yours.”

  “Nor yours. We’re warm now. Be grateful.”

  We faced each other panting. Moab tried to talk to us. “Berona, it is dangerous. You can’t just use a spell without knowing more about it.”

  I tossed my head. Perhaps I had been impulsive. “The Demon doesn’t like the fire,” I said.

  “Or the flaming brand in her chest distracted her from attacking us,” Moab said. “You’re jumping to conclusions. For all we know, what you did just now will reveal us to her.”

  Kea nodded and looked around, as if expecting her to jump from the bushes. I took the opportunity to snatch the Book back, and he made for me as if to strike me. Then he dropped his hands to his sides, mindful of his temper.

  Moab sighed. “You two need to stop quarrelling. If it’s lust that’s ignited the air, I’ll find a place to withdraw to, and give you privacy. You’re like two cats in heat.”

  I turned bright red. “Pardon me? I’m not like Kea, coupling with any slut that saunters along.”

  Kea put his hands on his hips. “I’m selective. Don’t be so sure I would choose you.”

  My hands flew to my face in shock. Was I not as fair as I’d thought? The notion was galling, and my eyes welled up.

  “Enjoy the fire I made for you.” I sniffled. “I’m going to look for some berries.” Before one of them could stop me, I was off, to hide my humiliating tears from view.

  * * *

  I had walked for a while before the stupidity of my actions became clear. Moab was right; there was a possibility that my spell had alerted the Water Demon to our location.

  I had wandered off and left my friends alone, though I knew more about the Demon than they did. I sighed and turned around, still stung by Kea’s remarks. He could get to me like no one else.

  But I could never forgive myself if something happened to him. And Moab was a good friend to us.

  My first inkling that something was wrong was Kea’s abnormally loud voice. He sounded like a bad actor in a worse play. He must be trying to warn me off, I thought. I moved closer, using the trunk of an oak tree as cover.

  A stranger spoke to them, her words too quiet for me to catch. She was tall and lithe, and her sword was held at Kea’s chest. A cloak of pelts, sewn together, covered her clothes. Her curly hair was short, and the light of her torch glittered on a gold earring. She was everything I’d imagined a Mannite warrior to be.

  “Show yourself. You think I can’t hear you? You breathe like a cow in labor,” she said, turning in my direction.

  “Who are you?” I hung back under the cover of the trees.

  She threw back her pelts to reveal her Robe. “I’m the Captain of the Mannite Red Robes, and I want an explanation. You started a fire at the inn in Dale and nearly burned the place down. Bad enough they blame the incineration of the Intercessor on us, and now this.”

  Kendall. I’d finally met the chief of the Mannite warriors, under the most dismal of circumstances.

  “Hey, answer me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You admit it? Where did you learn that spell? Not from Shandon, I warrant.”

  At the mention of his name, I approached her. “Can you take me to Yassin?”

  “That was our plan.” She gave me the once-over. “So, you are Berona. I wasn’t sure till now. When did you become a witch?”

  “I’m not a witch. Won’t you please sheathe your sword? These are my friends, Kea and Moab.”

  “I figured.” She turned to them. “Why did you run away from your master?”

  “It wouldn’t be gallant to let Berona attempt the trip alone,” Kea said.

  “Spoken like a gentleman,” Kendall said disparagingly. She didn’t put away her sword. Instead, her eyes settled on my weapon, still sheathed. “Do you know how to use that?”

  I flushed and stayed quiet, not wanting to admit my ignorance.

  “Shandon was always prattling on about you. That’s why we went searching. He doesn’t need you dead, on top of his other troubles. You’re lucky you didn’t get nabbed by the Chosen, you benighted twat.”

  I scowled at her.

  She grinned. “Getting angry? Let’s see you fight then.”

  This wasn’t the meeting I’d hoped for, but I didn’t want to look like a coward. I pulled out the sword, which made a soft hiss.

  It was over before it began. I lunged clumsily and she stepped smartly out of the way. As I turned, she grabbed my free hand and yanked me down. The sword clattered out of my hand.

  “Well.” She pursed her lips. “We have several problems. First of all, you can’t fight worth a damn.”

  “That’s not my fault. No one trained me.”

  Her expression hardened. “The second problem is, you stole my sword! I sent it for repair at the smithy, and my cousin returned emptyhanded from his visit to the farm. Because it was gone.”

  I gulped. “Who is your cousin?”

  The sight of his bald head and Yellow Robe rounding the corner made her answer unnecessary. Biruac, whom I’d sat next to at the feast. He was Georsi’s great-nephew and enamored of the acolyte Delphine. I couldn’t expect much help from him.

  CHAPTER 24

  Berona

  We were trussed like chickens on their way to the oven, and Biruac looked fierce. He repeated his questions.

  “What was Georsi planning? Where’s he run off to? What was that bunk you told Oberin about an Earth Elemental?”

  “Georsi is your uncle,” I muttered, tired of repeating myself. Biruac believed Georsi had hatched some conspiracy with me, giving me time to flee, and him time to enact some vague nefarious scheme. I didn’t appreciate being treated as a liar and a thief, just because I’d needed a sword to defend myself. I decided not to mention the book that I’d taken from Georsi.

  Biruac put his hands on his hips, snorting. “So it was just coincidence that you were the only one not present in the hall when he drugged us?”

  Kendall looked bored by Biruac’s tirade. “That must have been some good Woodlands Valerian Georsi laid his hands on. My parents would have been delighted.”

  Shocked, I looked at Kendall. Were her parents addicts? I’d heard of people who took Woodlands Valerian for pain, and then kept on long after the wound healed.

  She wink
ed. “Biruac and I come from scratch farmers.” It was the derogatory term for those who tilled the poorest land. “My father chose to augment our income a little, buying from brigands and supplying the village. Who can blame him?”

  It was easy enough to see why those two became Mannites. They weren’t giving up any valuable land or fancy titles.

  Biruac paced back and forth. “You have no idea where Georsi went? He seemed interested in you.”

  Not as interested as you were in the weaver’s cleavage, instead of paying attention, I thought.

  “I could force your mind open,” Biruac pointed out.

  “That’s against our laws,” I said.

  “So is what you did. Leaving without permission, stealing a sword.”

  “Tell me again,” Kendall demanded.

  I took a breath, straining to remember. “When I came back to the hall, I found Georsi staring into the fire. He seemed sad. He talked to himself, muttering, saying it was the Mannites’ turn to suffer, because of their betrayal. They kept a gift that was intended for the Elders, from someone named the Ally.”

  Kendall shot her cousin a sly look. “That might explain why we haven’t heard a whisper from the Elders since the Great War.”

  “I’m not going to listen to his outrageous claims,” Biruac sniffed.

  “Georsi is your uncle, though?” I asked politely. I had to get information about the man I suspected of being her agent.

  Biruac frowned. “So they say. The Mannites offered us an escape from our miserable scrap of land, but it came with consequences. As soon as we accepted their offer of training, they pushed that pest on us.”

  “The Council claims Georsi is an ancestor of our bloodline, and therefore our responsibility. After he flashed me his wrinkled old buttocks, I fought Biruac to see who would have to care for him. And I won,” Kendall explained.