Girl of Fire

by Gabrielle Mathieu

  “You can’t say spells, though. Or do sendings. You’re only a Red,” Biruac argued.

  What had started out as playful jesting seemed to have morphed into an argument. I could scarcely breathe from being tied so tight. I interrupted their bickering. “Are you going to march me all the way to Yassin like this?”

  “I don’t trust you,” Biruac said. “You obviously used magic. The Council will get an explanation out of you.”

  Kea tossed his curly hair out of his eyes. “Fine. I did it. I learned some secret spells. Stuck with that old man and his geese, how else was I to pass my time? Maybe he was a Mannite once, but he’s half senile.”

  “Where did you learn the spell of calling up fire?” Biruac demanded.

  “There are books about with knowledge, if one cares to look.”

  I tensed. I hoped Kea wasn’t going to give away my secret.

  “I’m skeptical, Kea. I’ve never seen a spell like that,” Biruac challenged, glancing at our camp fire, which blazed on despite the drizzle.

  “Have you seen every book in Trea, then?”

  “Mind your manners. Let’s go over your story one more time, pretty boy.”

  Kendall hadn’t taken her eyes off me. I took a deep breath. “Please free me so I can protect myself. I left the farm because I was in danger. That Earth Elemental could have been coming for me.”

  Her face was impassive. “You believe Georsi’s story?”

  “Yes. The Demon’s back in the Heartland. She freed the Elementals,” I said, recalling my vision. “And if that’s not enough, she’s made a terrible weapon too.”

  She rocked back in surprise. “I just found out about the soul snares myself. How could you know?”

  “Where’s Shandon? He can explain.”

  “He’s on the way back to Yassin. He should be there when we arrive.” She lowered her voice, so Biruac wouldn’t hear. “I’m sorry I couldn’t fetch you myself. Biruac doesn’t always make a good first impression. Oberin was supposed to talk to you, but you never gave him a chance.”

  If Kendall already knew this much, Shandon trusted her, and I would too. “We saw the Water Demon at the inn. She attacked us,” I admitted.

  She looked troubled. “That must have been terrifying. That doesn’t excuse starting magical fires, though. It wasn’t handled well. You left chaos in your wake—and new accusations against the Mannites.”

  “You’re right. But Shandon didn’t prepare me for this.”

  “How could he?” She reached out and cut my bonds. “This is all new for us, Berona. We thought we were safe.”

  * * *

  I was glad Kendall and Biruac led us. The path to Yassin was concealed by magic. The markers shimmered for those who had the spell; to a casual passerby, the winding path was concealed. The next afternoon, after a hard, wearying climb, we reached a high plateau. Our path leveled off, leading us through a thick pine forest.

  Kea nudged me. “Look over there.” I saw a structure resembling the tents that some of the nomadic Krill used, but this was round.

  “It’s one of the outposts,” Biruac explained.

  We got up close, and I peered inside the translucent, covered structure, which looked like a giant beehive. A man sat, legs crossed, face slack, eyes closed.

  “Is he praying?”

  “He’s holding the protection. We don’t want the Elementals to come pay us an unannounced visit,” Kendall said.

  “What’s the tent made of?” Kea asked.

  “It’s a giant seed pod. The Greens sing to the plants and then harvest the pods. Reds cure them, rub them with beeswax, and stretch them over the frames.”

  As we kept going through the thick woods, I saw more of the guard posts dotted around. Then I caught a glimpse of a massive rectangular structure of darkened stone, glowering behind the cover of oaks and pines.

  Biruac pointed. “There it is. The home of the Mannites. Yassin.”

  As the path curved, I got a better look despite the trees crowding on each side. The outer wall of the fortress faced us, squat guard turrets on each corner. Behind that loomed the proper building, flanked by towers.

  Despite its size, the castle didn’t look ready to repel invaders. A parapet joined the front guard turrets, but no archers stood guard behind the slits. The drained moat served as a garden. There were bushes with giant buds, which I assumed made the shelters I’d seen earlier. There was no drawbridge and portcullis. Instead pavers led over the filled moat straight to the entrance.

  “What are the Mannites going to do if we’re attacked?”

  Biruac shot me a sharp glance. “You mean if Amur’s Chosen demand the girl who turned the Intercessor into a cinder, and now almost burned down an inn? Let’s hope they don’t learn you’re here.”

  “I didn’t kill the Intercessor.”

  “Didn’t you? Why was your campfire burning with only a handful of wet leaves when we found you?”

  “Don’t fret. She’ll tell Shandon, and Shandon will tell Hirschi, and Hirschi will tell us,” Kendall soothed.

  “You’re not seeing much of Hirschi these days,” Biruac commented.

  “How’s dearest Delphine? I heard the bloom was off?”

  The cousins regarded each other warily. I walked ahead, curious to see more of Yassin.

  The moat was filled in with rich soil. The buds of the regal bushes were larger than an ox bladder, translucent and soft, but resilient. We passed by the rusted bolts where the drawbridge was once mounted. In the shade of the looming archway lurked closed doors of somber wood, blackened by the stain of many seasons. They swung open without any touch.

  We crossed the narrow long hall, with stairs leading off to the guard turrets. Benches lined the sides, and pegs on the crumbling plaster walls must have once held shields and swords. Kendall swung open the facing door, which led to a deserted courtyard. The two-story castle proper faced us, connected to the hall we’d just left by two wings, one each side of the rectangular courtyard. A few pines clustered around the well in the center. Despite the somber silence and the onset of dusk, the air felt different, invigorating and sparkling, like sunrise over a waterfall. I stretched, breathing deeply, tension draining away.

  The paved yard was deserted, except for two mounts tied to rails. I saw by the curved, fleshy hooves and sturdy build that one of them was a costly weatherbeater. In front of the left wing, there was a low thatched building. The droppings outside the wide, swinging doors and the faint smell of feed confirmed that this was the stable. At the far corner of the courtyard where the stable ended, an outside staircase of granite and iron wound round and round the shorter of the towers that flanked the two-story castle. The tower had a crenelated parapet, from which defenders could fire down on anyone who breached the inner wall. The right side of the castle had a second such tower, taller, with all the windows blocked. It had a mysterious air about it.

  The castle itself looked half empty. The light of oil lanterns illuminated a handful of the narrow windows. I imagined Mannite scholars studying scrolls filled with powerful spells. Or maybe some Robe looked down from his perch by the window, wondering who I was and what I had to offer?

  The one-story wing to our right had a slate roof and smoke curling from the chimney. Biruac headed toward it, leaving us standing.

  “What’s his hurry?” Kea groused.

  Kendall patted her lean belly. “Supper. Come on.”

  The long dining hall offered communal tables and long benches. The smell of onions and meat set my mouth watering. A few Robed groups were already there, eating and drinking, and Biruac waved us over to the table he’d joined. I noted there were three others without the robes and jewelry of the initiated, wearing the charcoal acolyte Robe. One, a plump young man, cradled an apple tenderly before he bit it with relish. The others, a man and a woman, both pale and freckled with muddy blonde hair, sat at a table by themselves. There was also a frail old man wearing a Yellow Robe huddled in front of the fire, though it wasn�
�t cold. He had his back to us; wisps of white hair stood up from his skull. I could hear his hacking cough.

  I had just grabbed a bowl for some stew when Kendall said, “I want to visit with Shandon, but you should go first.”

  “Of course. Where is he?” I put down the bowl, forgetting about food.

  Biruac and Kendall exchanged glances, and he took a deep slug of beer. “Come with me.” He headed to the old man by the fireplace.

  No! It couldn’t be.

  CHAPTER 25

  Shandon

  Shandon heard approaching footsteps, but he had sunk deep into his desperation and didn’t look up. Probably more curious Mannites, coming to regard the once promising Master of the Scrolls, fallen on hard times.

  Berona’s soft gasp cleared the cloud of self-pity. Thank Krossos; Kendall had tracked down his Girl of Fire.

  Berona seemed too shocked to speak. It was Biruac who said, “You look like hell. I thought you were confined to the infirmary.”

  “It can’t cure what ails me.” Shandon turned to Berona. “I’m delighted to see you safe. Why didn’t you wait for Oberin?”

  “The farm was dangerous.”

  “Danger? Or was it longing, for Kea?” Biruac asked, with a wink.

  Berona’s eyes met Shandon’s. She needed to talk to him privately.

  Biruac continued, heedless. “We found Berona in the company of your two lads. They’d nearly burned down an inn in Dale and set the whole town to talking.”

  Biruac was itching to tell his story. Kendall rose to join him, trailed by Moab and Kea.

  Shandon closed his eyes. It was just all so exhausting. But he’d get their chatter out of the way. Then he would call Berona to his chamber. He’d noted the apprehension on her face, mixed with compassion. He owed her the full truth.

  * * *

  Biruac told the tale with gusto, beginning with their search for Berona. He and Kendall had heard rumors of a young armed woman in the company of two men and followed the trail to the town of Dale. The day after their visit to the inn, the innkeeper’s uncontrollable fire and demonic visitation were the talk of the town. The innkeeper blamed his Mannite guests for the sorcery.

  Biruac and Kendall heard the report of the gatekeeper Kea threatened, and went in that direction, hoping they would find Berona before the Chosen did. The merry camp fire that burned on, despite the drizzle of rain, made it easy to spot her and her friends. It was proof of magic too.

  So, his acolyte had acquired some new skills. Shandon gave her a look that was as stern as he could make it, considering his fatigue. “They did not teach you this at the farm.”

  “It’s not magic. Someone came to my aid,” she explained, looking wary.

  “The Water Demon appeared at the inn,” Kendall whispered to Shandon.

  Biruac caught her words, though. His head jerked up. “What? Doesn’t she have enough to do?”

  Kendall cuffed Biruac. “Get me some ale, would you?”

  “I want to know what’s going on. I’m the Yellow here.”

  “Berona and I will talk in private; an official meeting will be convened tomorrow,” Shandon said. He pushed himself to his feet and said goodbye.

  He took her along a passage to the women’s quarters in the main building and showed her a small wash room along the way. “We need to talk. Clean up a bit first and change into the acolyte Robe.” Shandon gestured to the charcoal tunics already set out on the table, along with soap and towels

  He did not have to wait long before she emerged, face scrubbed and hair slicked back.

  “I have lots of questions,” she said.

  “Not in the hallway. Wait until we get to my room.” He was more convinced than ever that there was a traitor among them, though he still did not know who. How could he and Hirschi protect Berona from a faceless foe?

  * * *

  Shandon opened the door, sank down in the nearest chair, and bid Berona to sit on the other chair. Though small, Shandon’s room was comfortable. A glowing brazier gave off warmth. A table positioned in front of the sole window held an oil lamp and several fat candles. He was glad to be away from the suspicious glances and whispered asides. Everyone must know he had left Hirschi to face the Elementals alone. Yet it was Hirschi who fought his way free, sped back on his weatherbeater, and warned the Council. Shandon arrived at Yassin tied to a nag, a heartbroken, useless man.

  “I struggled to reach you in time,” she broke out passionately. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

  “It was I who abandoned you. I fail everyone.”

  She frowned. “That sounds like the Demon is in your head.”

  He surprised himself with a self-conscious laugh. “I suppose she is. All that maudlin self-pity. That’s what Bolin would say too.”

  “Who is he?”

  “He was…” He found saying it gave him strength. “He was the man I loved, who helped me find you.”

  Her eyes teared up. “He’s dead now? Did the Elementals kill him too?”

  “No, but it took all of Bolin’s strength to free me. I barely escaped her new weapon.”

  Berona’s voice trembled. “She showed me. It was her punishment. She wanted me to know she would destroy all those I cared about. I’m so worried about my family.”

  “They will be looked after, Berin. Remember Oberin? His father is the Lord of the Southern Province. Oberin’s father studied among the Mannites when Soa joined, though he later returned to his duties as ruler. When Oberin found out the Elementals were loose, he did a sending to his father. I asked him to mention your family.”

  “But how will that help?”

  “His guards are looking for your family. Once they are located, they’ll be invited to join the household.” Shandon had been surprised and grateful when Oberin relayed his father’s generous offer.

  She gave a sigh of relief. “So now I’m finally here, and my family will be safe. Can you prepare me to fight her?”

  At least he and Hirschi had made a plan for that. “We’ll train you with a group, so that no one will guess your unique role. We have two acolytes who found their way here and begged for a place; the freckled fair girl and her brother—Ilse and Alse. She’s a Finder, so it wasn’t hard for Hirschi to make a case for accepting them. Rheyna is on her way with her master. You brought Moab and Kea yourself.”

  “So no one knows…”

  “I only confided in Hirschi. I trust him. I owe him my life.”

  She took his hand and squeezed it. “I’m glad you have a friend you trust. Now I have something to show you that puzzles me. Kea says it’s called the Book of First Naming.”

  Shandon jumped up, knocking over his drink. “Let me see it. At once,” he demanded, scrubbing at the spilled tea with the sleeve of his tunic.

  “You know what it is?”

  “It’s the key to facing the Elementals. No one knew what became of it. The Fifth Prime of Vendrisi claimed to have given it to the Elders, but they never received it.” His hands shook as she handed the Book to him. He couldn’t believe their good fortune—another sign that with Berona, he made the correct choice. “How did you ever come across it?”

  “Georsi had it.” She looked troubled. “He claimed the Council was full of traitors.”

  “What? You best tell me everything that happened.”

  As she spoke, Shandon kept his hand on the book, scarcely believing his ears. A Fire Elemental had helped her. Perhaps not all the Elementals blindly followed the Demon’s lead. Could they be reasoned with? Could some of them be turned?

  She was just finishing her tale when someone knocked. Shandon flinched and covered the book with some papers. “Will you see who it is?”

  CHAPTER 26

  Berona

  Shandon’s visitor had hair like the mane of the mythical lion, but it was gray, not golden. His eyes were also gray. Despite the grayness, he was well-muscled. He wore the Yellow Robe, so I respected his reticence to take my proffered hand. I dropped mine. I was on
ly an acolyte, after all. He softened the rebuff with an introduction. “I’m Hirschi, Master of the Horse. How’s Shandon doing?”

  A querulous voice from behind me. “I’m not deaf.”

  “I brought you another cup of tea. I know you’re always thirsty.” Hirschi handed it to me when Shandon didn’t get up. The mug gave off a cloud of minty steam. I carried it to Shandon, who made a face. “I don’t like mint. Don’t you remember?”

  “It has other herbs in it too.”

  Shandon moved the papers to reveal the book. “I was about to send someone to fetch you. Fortune smiled on Berona. Look what she brought us.”

  Hirschi didn’t seem to share Shandon’s excitement, but perhaps he was just reserved. “What is it?”

  “Why, it’s the Book of First Naming, at least according to the cover.”

  “It’s been lost.” Hirschi’s tone was flat.

  “Georsi had it all this time. It must be true, what he claims.”

  “What does he claim?”

  “He sat on the Council during the Great War.”

  I interrupted. “Is there a chance the Elders would help us against the Demon?”

  “It hardly matters now,” Shandon said triumphantly. “With the Book of First Naming, we can reveal the nature of each Elemental. Uncloaking spells don’t work on them.”

  It puzzled me why knowing the affinity of an Elemental would be an advantage; all of them were huge and dangerous. Hirschi noted my confusion.

  “I will use my recent escape as an example,” he said. “Five of the monsters came at me. I dared not use my metal sword, for if it touched a Metal Elemental, the sword might turn on me instead. My wooden staff was of no use for the same reason. I fought my way free using hand strikes and round kicks; then I ran for my weatherbeater. I knew my attack had only slowed them down.”