Girl of Fire

by Gabrielle Mathieu

  I stirred harder.

  Malar took over on the drums, and Kendall coaxed Shandon into dancing with her. As I’d suspected, he could dance, though it was plain he was tired after a round. Alse and Namur, the Green Master, began chanting a song of renewal, as Shandon and Kendall came over for a refill of wine. Rheyna stretched the green ribbon tight as she strained toward Moab. “I’m the only dancer again.”

  “I’m shy.”

  Kea countered Moab. “Don’t be silly. You’re smitten by Rheyna. You can refuse her nothing.”

  “I’ll dance, but only if you do.”

  The conspiracy was coming to a head. I jumped up, intending to flee to Kilgad, who had taken a break to smoke some mullein leaf. Kea grabbed me.

  “Don’t you want to dance?”

  I’d forgotten how good his touch felt. My knees grew weak.

  I could at least dance with him.

  * * *

  Dance after dance, I enjoyed the steady feel of Kea’s arm around my waist, correcting occasional missteps. He moved to the tunes smoothly and gracefully, drawing me closer with each swing around the pole until I felt the length of him pressing against me. When the moon rose above the horizon, swollen with the light of the coming year, we stopped to admire its beauty. Kendall replenished everyone’s cup. Kea kissed me as I looked up.

  I started to pull away. I reminded myself Hirschi watched over our welfare in the hut, where the crystal reflected what the wisps saw. The Demon was not here.

  The dance took on a timeless, sweet quality. The scent of pines and snow, the tang of cloves and wine, and the moonbeams melded into an elixir that heightened my senses, filling me with a willful wildness. When Kea swung me, I stopped holding myself stiffly away and nestled against him as we came together.

  When the position of the moon showed it was midnight, Namur came and cut the tethers as was the custom. We were each to bring in the new year and the new life however we were inspired.

  Our eyes met. Kea didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.

  Soon we reached the shelter of the tall, sighing pines, the wind whistling through the treetops. Kea led me to a small snug hollow, hidden among the rocks. As we stood outside, he kissed me long and hard, as if he had all the time in the world. He pulled my tunic over my head, admiring me before he touched. The nighttime air chilled my bare skin, but fire ran down my spine and pooled in my belly. He gestured to the cave. I crept in to find a comfortable pile of pelts and a candle enclosed in a lantern. Kea lit it, held me close, and kissed me again.

  We lay down. The fur feathered against my bare legs, but I barely noticed. There was the sharp, unexpected sweetness of Kea’s hand on my breast, and then his other arm pressed against the back of my neck. He covered me in more kisses. Then his tongue went to work.

  Oh, oh, oh.

  Now he crouched to pull his breeches down.

  I sat up, nearly hitting my head on the roof, taking a few gulps of air to clear my head. He was ready for lovemaking. But I’d had my bleed a few weeks ago. According to Rheyna, now was a dangerous time if one wanted to avoid falling with child.

  “Why do you look at me strangely? You grew up on a farm. Surely you have seen this before.”

  “Yes. But I am not livestock…”

  “Nor are you a lamb in the flock of Amur, saving your maidenhood for your eventual master in marriage.”

  “I must dedicate myself to the upcoming fight.”

  “Are you so special that you can’t be bothered with a lover? I’m not the only one who looks at you. We all vie for your attentions,” he finished bitterly.

  I hadn’t noticed much vying for my attention. I said so.

  He took me by the hands. “Oberin nursed you back to health. That should have been my place.”

  Silly of Kea to be jealous. But didn’t it prove he had feelings for me?

  “The Demon,” I said. “She threatened you that day at the well. She thinks to defeat me by taking away my friends, until I’m left alone.”

  He surprised me by laughing. “Is that all? You’re trying to protect me? You’re sweet, but haven’t I proven to you that I can take care of us both? I helped you and Shandon escape from the Chosen, and then when you fled the farm, Moab and I saw you safely to Yassin.”

  Had he? I tried to think.

  Kea took me roughly by the hands. “I’ve wanted to do this so many times. Shandon tried to warn me away, but I know what my heart says. Don’t deny us.” He drew me close. I felt the connection we had, the fire between us.

  My eyes closed. My reason shut down. My body took over, an urgent tempo hammering down the quiet inner voice of warning.

  CHAPTER 33

  Shandon

  Shandon noted with disquiet the flicker in Berona’s eyes, her flushed cheeks and merry laugh. He had done his best to keep Kea away from her, but matters of the heart found a way.

  There was danger in this, though. The Demon had anticipated the romance and would know that Kea was a weak point. The camp might be safe from the Demon, but even without her influence the affair was perilous. Kea was brave and clever, but he had the ability to wound Berona now, which would distract her from her task.

  Another thing bothered Shandon. He was not completely sure that Delphine had been the traitor, though Hirschi seemed convinced of it.

  Hirschi. One could barely talk to him these days. The man was more closemouthed than ever, weighed down by responsibility.

  Well, Hirschi had burdens, but Shandon had his own. He could not forbid the affair. But he would have to talk to Berona. He would not shunt it off on Kendall, although it was a woman’s matter.

  * * *

  It was the third day of the new year when he had Berona alone again, for a study session. He drew out a portrait of the last known Elder Queen, who had reigned during the Great War. “This is Queen Anasian. Among the Elders Queens rule, and take consorts for a while.”

  “Just for a while?”

  “It depends. If the consort can engender progeny, it may become a lifetime. But remember, Elders can live a Session or more, and they show no age.”

  “Engender progeny?”

  “Many of the men are sterile. Because of their long lifespan, their procreation is inhibited. Not like ours.” He held her eyes and noted her blush.

  There was no delicate way to say this. He opened his mouth and closed it, feeling a blush of his own.

  She had the grace to help him. “You’re saying human women get pregnant easily?”

  “They do. How well would you fight with a baby in your belly?”

  She got a mulish expression. “Other Mannites have lovers.”

  “They are not my concern. You are my personal responsibility. And by the way, Kendall took a draught from the Fen Witches that would ensure she could never bear children. You didn’t hear that from me.”

  She swallowed. “I asked Rheyna for some herbs to bring on the monthly courses. But she only has enough for herself and Ilse. Though Ilse won’t need it now, I can’t very well ask for her share. I already took her man.”

  Shandon wasn’t so sure Ilse wouldn’t need it. He looked at Berona’s bright eyes and defiant expression. Probably best not to mention his suspicions. “I can’t convince you to set this aside? You and I both have our doubts that Delphine was the traitor. It could be someone in the camp who will use your attachment to Kea against you.”

  “He says he can look out for himself. He’s learning the spells so fast, and he’s already good with a sword.”

  Shandon nodded. “I will go to Yassin and fetch what you need. In return, please promise me abstinence until I can make you the potion. It would be dangerous to take the bitter herbs if you were already with child.”

  She shuddered, and her face got serious. “I might be now. I hope not.”

  “Namur will know from your pulse if a soul has entered the red door. It’s too early now, but I will ask him to look at you when I get back.”

  Relief flooded her face. “Th
ank you. I’ll wait. But I cannot forsake love forever.”

  Shandon understood. He would not have turned away from Bolin, and though Bolin was a far better man than Kea, she had her own way of seeing things.

  * * *

  When Shandon said he was going to Yassin the next day, Kendall offered to go herself, but Shandon shook his head. Her place was with Berona. He also hoped to coax some more scrolls out of the Cabinet of Mysteries, hopefully something that would give a clue as to how Berona should fight the Forest of Bones. Perhaps there was some magical fire she could build, if given the proper spell, or some other possibility he hadn’t yet thought of.

  His boots crunched through the frost as he swung himself up to the saddle, without needing a helping hand. Hirschi was already seated, ready to lead the way. He’d insisted on coming. He planned to show Shandon a new route he’d discovered, which would bring them closer to a garrison of Chosen but cut half a day off their trip. With only two of them, they felt sure they could stay concealed in the shelter of the valley, where the Chosen did not go.

  Shandon stretched toward the sunlight and loosened his heavy fur traveling cloak so he could take a deep breath of the fresh air.

  “Are you feeling better?” Hirschi asked.

  Shandon smiled. It was good to have a friend, though he’d be taking Hirschi away from his acolytes. “A slow recovery, but I’m heartened to see Berona coming along so well.”

  “Except her refusal to be chaste. That’s why we are wasting valuable time now going to Yassin,” Hirschi said. Was that a faint tone of disapproval Shandon heard? Had Hirschi always been so judgmental? He’d had his share of lovers himself.

  The horses sped up to a canter while Shandon mused. It bothered him that Hirschi spent so much time alone these days.

  “Why won’t you talk to Kendall anymore?” he finally blurted out. “You’ve been so different since you came back. It’s plain you suffer from her absence. Tell her how you feel, and she will be true to you.”

  “I don’t miss her.” Hirschi’s voice was flat and dull.

  “Then is it the responsibility? You were always a serious man, but now you’re so withdrawn.”

  There was no answer.

  Could he really be done with Kendall? They’d been together for twenty years, and this was the first time he’d pulled away from her like this. Her last lover had been a brief fling, one of the older Reds, an archery expert. Might Hirschi have a particular dislike for the man?

  The entire issue was so childish. Hirschi had teased Kendall about her inexperience the first time they lay together. She’d set about informing herself about men’s tastes, as well as the odd woman now and then. She would be too stubborn to stop now, unless asked to.

  The first snowflake hit Shandon’s cheeks, breaking his train of thought. He glanced up. The sky was stormy. They’d ridden down into the isolated valley to avoid the garrison on the peak to their left. It was the first time Shandon had been down here. It was rocky and steep, with stunted trees, in shadow most of the year. Beside them, a rushing river tumbled down the gorge, moving too quickly to freeze. The narrow path was bordered with huddled dark and thorny brambles. Their horses, the two best ones left, picked their way carefully down the steep slope toward the bridge in the distance.

  Shandon shivered. It was just past the Null Day, when true winter still holds the land in its grip. “It’s certainly cold down here.”

  Hirschi did not answer.

  “Are you sure this is the best way?” Just then, Shandon’s horse nearly slipped, distracting him. He let it wander after Hirschi without saying anything more. Hirschi had no patience for small talk. Shandon appreciated silence, but something about the morning gloom set him on edge. He hummed a little tune.

  Against the darkness of the nearby woods, a swarm of fireflies converged on the riders. Shandon stared at the glowing cluster in disbelief. It wasn’t summer anymore. The last time he saw so many fireflies was when they’d tied the Intercessor and left him by the side of the road. The same Intercessor that was found burnt to a crisp.

  “Hirschi?” Shandon said, caution vibrating in his voice. “Those fireflies? Could they be linked with Fire Elementals? Could Fire Elementals disassociate themselves into sparks?” He’d long suspected the Intercessor’s death was the work of a Fire Elemental, but he hadn’t been able to figure out how the freed Elemental reached Trea so quickly. The appearance of the fireflies seemed innocuous at the time.

  No answer from Hirschi, just the same rigid back Shandon had looked at all morning long. The silence took on an ominous quality. The valley was deserted, a cleft between two granite mountains. Shandon spurred his horse to get in front of Hirschi, then twisted around to get his attention.

  What he saw disturbed him so, the words flew out of his head.

  Hirschi’s face was like a shuttered house, deserted for the season. His eyes were flat as pebbles, his face tensed into a grimace. Did Hirschi sense some danger that Shandon had overlooked? He reached for his magic sword, then cursed as he remembered he’d given it to Berona.

  Shandon stiffened as he realized the truth.

  His sword was gone. Like the Book of First Naming, which he’d shown to Hirschi shortly before it disappeared. He’d drunk the tea that Hirschi brought and fallen into a heavy sleep, without bothering to lock his door.

  And Hirschi had been the only one, initially, to know of Berona’s significance. She was attacked by the well right after he saw her.

  Was his best friend the agent the prophecy warned of? Shandon stared into the cold blank face, seeking a connection.

  Hirschi took notice of him. His eyes flared with animosity. Perhaps that hadn’t been the best strategy. Shandon’s breath came short as the realization of the danger he was in struck.

  His hand wandered to his puny dagger as Hirschi’s gaze followed and his expression darkened. Shandon hastily let his hand drop. He couldn’t fight off someone with the Sidewinder’s skill. Could he escape, ride back to the camp to warn everyone?

  The path was too narrow and rocky for him to spur his horse up past Hirschi quickly enough to escape injury. “My friend,” he began in soothing tones, hoping to employ the same sedating spell he’d used on the gatekeeper when he, Kea, and Berona fled the Chosen. “My dear friend. You have done so well.”

  Hirschi gasped and put his hand over his heart, as if he felt pain.

  In some recess of his being, Hirschi must have known he’d failed and become the Demon’s pawn. Telling him he’d done well would only rouse conflict.

  Shandon paused, sweating despite the cold. He felt, rather than saw, a flicker of a serpentine form in the fog that rose around them. A fell whisper without a source filled the air. Shandon couldn’t make out the words, but they weren’t meant for him.

  Hirschi’s face was so taut he looked like a skull. His stormy eyes narrowed. “I trusted you, and you lay with Kendall. Bastard. I’ll see you dead for that.”

  Hirschi must not have escaped the Elementals at all. He’d been brought to that same forest, infected with the soul snares, and then turned by the Water Demon. Shandon’s mind raced through the hundreds of spells he knew, before settling on one. His hands wove the signs for an exorcism, a recently discovered spell he’d never had the opportunity to employ. He let his lips shape the words, unwilling to speak them out loud and betray his intent.

  Hirschi dismounted and moved up next to Shandon’s horse. Shandon stayed seated, attempting to concentrate on the spell. He was only halfway through. Hirschi’s leap into the air to yank him off the horse took him by surprise. Shandon fell heavily against Hirschi, noting the chill and pallor of his skin. He was like a wight.

  He grabbed for his dagger, ready to fight for his life, but Hirschi froze, an abstracted air about him. The insinuating soft voice resumed, winding slithering words into iron chains.

  There was no time to lose. Shandon picked himself up painfully and went back to the complicated hand movements, refusing to look at his poss
essed friend.

  The ubiquitous voice fell silent. Hirschi growled. “I ought to geld you.”

  Shandon rushed through the last words of the exorcism and looked up into those gray eyes, a stormy sea of pain. “I’m your friend,” he said, with all the gentleness he could muster. Hirschi’s longsword was out, the blade circling uncertainly near him.

  Hirschi bared his teeth. “Fight me.”

  That would be a fight Shandon had no hope of winning. He would have to appeal to his friend’s sense of correctness. Shandon let his hands sink to his sides, maintaining eye contact with Hirschi. He hoped his friend’s conditioning would hold and that he would not attack an unarmed man. Hirschi’s pride was his honor and correctness. It was as much a part of him as his spine and ribs. “I will not fight you,” Shandon said. “You’re my closest friend.”

  “That can’t be true.”

  “What have you heard?” Shandon asked, his voice soft as oatmeal and curds.

  “She told me you love Kendall.” Hirschi looked bewildered. “I wanted to ask you myself, but she said it was a secret.”

  “Who is she?” Shandon knew damn well who she was, but he wanted to know what Hirschi would say.

  “The winged one. She talks to me often, but she also ties my tongue.”

  Shandon touched his own heart and then dared to reach out and touch his friend’s chest. “I do love Kendall. The Demon never lies outright. But I do not love her as a woman, and I have not betrayed your trust. Do you remember Bolin?”

  Hirsch grimaced again, his hand trembling. “O Krossos. She…the winged one. She’s the Demon? The Demon took me?”

  Shandon dared hope. Perhaps he could turn this situation around, escape Hirschi, get back to Berona. Oh, he must tell her. He must. Before Hirschi did something to her. Hurt her. Killed her. He shuddered, realizing how unprotected she was. Berona had a trusting nature. O Krossos.