Girl of Fire

by Gabrielle Mathieu

  Hirschi rounded on her. “You stole the Book so you could trade it? Give it to the Demon?”

  Ilse’s chin went up, and her mouth pursed. She must have planned to exchange the Book for Kea. It had never occurred to me, much as I wanted to help him.

  “Never mind that for now. Are we sure it’s gone?” I said.

  Ilse shut her eyes and focused while we waited. Her face crumpled. “It’s out of reach. One of the Elementals took it.”

  “We didn’t chase them off. They got what they came for,” Oberin said.

  “We killed two,” Hirschi pointed out, but his face was tight with grief.

  “And they killed two of ours,” I said. I willed back the tears. I was the leader, now that I’d challenged Kendall. If they saw me falter, what was left?

  Neyva still stood next to Oberin—leaning on him, looking like a wilted flower. “After we pray for the Mannites, we’ll perform a ceremony for your kinswoman. We’ll pray for the next red door to open for her spirit,” I told her.

  “The red door? The red door, for us! You know nothing.” Neyva rocked back and forth.

  “What does she mean?” I asked Oberin softly. Not softly enough.

  Neyva turned to us, her face wild. “My race is done. There are no bodies forming in the wombs of our women. The souls of the dead wait in vain for their next chance.” A moment of silence, then she cried out, “How easily they killed my warriors. The Elder Race will be but a fair memory.”

  Oberin stood in front of her, his sober manner contrasting with her grief. “My promise to you holds.” His eyes shone with compassion, but he looked wary.

  “We will bury our dead,” she said, her voice soft. “And then continue on.”

  * * *

  Ilse sidled up to me while Hirschi and Oberin gathered the sweet pungent prairie sage for the ceremony. “What bonds Oberin and the Princess?”

  I shrugged. We’d just lost two of our company, and such questions seemed meaningless. Ilse clearly expected an answer, though. I thought for a moment. “He understands the Elders more, because he’s studied their language.”

  “It’s more than that.” She considered. “I once thought there was something between you two. You and Oberin.”

  My cheeks turned red. “You hoped that, so you could have Kea all to yourself,” I said, trying to keep my voice gentle. It bothered me that she’d stolen the Book to trade for him. She was cunning. And devoted.

  “I know he’ll never really be mine,” she admitted. “But I liked the way he made me feel.”

  I was raw with grief. There were only four of us left now. It felt wrong to continue to resent her. I asked her softly, “And how did he make you feel?”

  She cleared her throat. “I’m going to tell you some things. Not because I consider you a friend. I don’t fool myself.”

  “Then why tell me?”

  “Tomorrow we’ll be among the soul snares. I won’t help you anymore. I’ll look for Kea. If you do your task, you’ll break the hold of all the soul snares. He’ll be set free, and I’ll bring him out of that place.”

  “It’s not as if you’re asking for my permission,” I pointed out, becoming angry again.

  “I pledged to be your companion. I want you to know why I break that promise.”

  Hirschi’s voice drifted to us. “We’re almost ready. I’m setting out crystals.”

  I nodded to show I’d heard him. Ilse continued. “You wanted to know why I’m good with a dagger. Father’s advisor came to my chamber at night. I hated him; I always swore I’d stab him. But my father wouldn’t have protected me. Amur’s Chosen would have said it was my fault. So my brother and I allowed that awful man to drive us out of our home. We ran away. We lived for a few years in a town in the west of Trea. Our gold ran out. It was not a good time.”

  She looked at me quietly. I’d heard most of this before. “What does this have to do with Kea?”

  “Men are at ease with Kendall because she’s a warrior. She can behave like them, choosing and discarding lovers. It’s rare for a woman to earn that acceptance. Kea never judged me for my lack of chastity. He told me I was pretty. He made me feel clean.” Her voice broke.

  I felt I had to say something. “I was just a girl when I met Kea. It was the first time I wanted to be a woman, the first time I understood what it was like to have those kinds of feelings. I’ve had no man but him.”

  “I had no man willingly but him,” Ilse said.

  “He, on the other hand, had a lot of women,” I mused. Still, he’d been ours for a time, and we wanted him back. I glanced over to the quicksand, where Oberin was preparing the ritual fire, though we had no body to place on it. The smoke from the lit prairie sage curled through the air, bracing and cleansing.

  I wanted Kea back enough to let Ilse find him. My task would distract me. I wouldn’t be able to do my best by him.

  “I’m glad you’ll help Kea, since I cannot,” I told Ilse, forcing a smile. I’d still have Oberin, Neyva, and Hirschi by my side. I wouldn’t be alone, like the Demon threatened, even though I had to give up Kea.

  “I’ll do all I can. If we survive, we can decide later how to go forward.”

  Would he stay with the one who saved him out of gratitude? I didn’t know. Perhaps none of us could do anything for him. We sure couldn’t do anything for Moab and Kilgad, other than hope for a smooth speedy passage through the red door. Though we’d find our way back to Rheyna if we survived. I swore that to myself.

  * * *

  Hirschi said the prayers.

  “Brother, your spirit will reach the sky, you will blow with the storms, and see the treetops moving in the gentle spring wind. One day, the wish to be with your kind will grow strong in you again. And then, look for the earth and look for the tunnel. May your return be clear to the red door.”

  Then it was over. I reached for comfort and my hand found Luca’s gift, secure in my pocket. As I cradled the pearl, the salty perfume of the ocean seemed to rise over me, cooling my scalding tears and easing my heart. It was then I noticed the pile of brush that was all that was left of Meshabera, the Wood Elemental I’d killed.

  In the light of the setting sun, green motes floated upward toward the sky. I turned to where Ziggaret had died. Silver specks, like little fallen stars, shimmered on the rock. Then they were absorbed, and nothing remained.

  I caught my breath at the beauty of it and noticed Hirschi looking as well. “So they return to nature?”

  Hirschi replied, “There is no red door for them either. There will be no more of their kind.”

  “What if they serve some function we don’t understand? We just killed two.”

  A small smile played over Hirschi’s thin lips. “You sound more like a philosopher Yellow than a warrior Red.”

  Oberin interrupted. “Ilse has already found two horses. Be ready to go.”

  I sighed. I was bone tired and heartsick. I took one last look at the final resting places of our friends, and then I turned away.

  CHAPTER 53

  Berona

  Neyva assured us that Elementals did not move at night, and we made camp as dusk fell. We were halfway up the pass and it was bitter cold, but that was not why I couldn’t sleep.

  Questions flew about in my mind like hawks, skimming the clouds, then diving down on prey. Why had the Elementals not killed more of us when they had a chance? Why not just kill me? Perhaps a worse fate awaited me, but they hadn’t even tried to carry me off to the Forest of Bones.

  How different from us were the Elementals? If they could make a plan to steal the Book, that proved they were capable of thought. I had killed two this time, and they were immortal forces. Had my actions brought about an imbalance in the world?

  My actions had, at the least, brought about the death of two friends. My muffled sobs must have covered the noise of Neyva and Oberin’s departure—I only noticed they’d left when I glanced in their direction. That was odd too. Hirschi had guard duty, and he’d said nothing. W
hy should he, though? They had surely not gone far, though why they would need privacy I didn’t know.

  What happened to Luca? Was the Prime of Vendrisi dead now too? The thought of him reminded me of his gift, and I reached for it. The pearl felt smooth, almost oily, and the moonlight brought out its luster. The heavy weight of it, filling my palm, calmed me.

  I fell asleep sometime after midnight and dreamt of the sea. This was not the Water Demon’s raging ocean. It was a limpid, blue, vast expanse. Though it was deep, I could see to the bottom, see the rays of sunbeams lighting the profundity. A splash, and a dolphin swam by.

  The motion startled me, and I jerked awake. The scrubby short winter grass was free of frost, but the sullen clouds made it seem colder. The air was heavy, like mud. The lowering sky made me want to return to my dreams of the ocean. But I couldn’t. I had to meet what lay ahead.

  By noon, we crested the pass and got our first look at the Forest of Bones, spread out on the other side. “It’s grown,” Hirschi said, his first words all day. “When Shandon and I came before, it was farther away.”

  The snares glowed an eerie green against the white of the ghostly forest. I imagined bodies slumped beneath. The landscape seemed blurry, the shapes indistinct and smeared.

  I rubbed my eyes, but nothing got clearer. My eyelids felt heavy.

  If we kept up our present pace, we would reach it by dusk. Surely that wasn’t a good time to enter—if there ever was a good time to enter. I looked around at the others. Everyone stood still.

  Ilse sighed. “Kea’s waiting. What’s left of him.”

  If this was my destiny, there was no escaping it. I might well die. I looked at Oberin, tall and broad-shouldered, and Hirschi, his face fierce. My new ally checked the string on her bow, her gaze steady.

  At least I wouldn’t die alone. The Demon had been wrong on that account. If she’d been wrong about that, who knew what other mistakes she’d made?

  * * *

  The trees loomed larger and larger, the height of many men. We were so close I could have reached out and touched the first skeletal, bleached branches with their finger-like protrusions. The smell of ancient slaughter tainted the air. The green shimmer of the soul snares was not visible; I guessed they lay deeper in the forest.

  The horses and my beater flared their nostrils, stamping and neighing their refusal. We staked them near a small stream that ran parallel to the forest, tying them up loosely. My beater was too smart to wait for me until he starved. He would work his way free if we did not return soon, and the horses would follow. We left our supplies in a pile, hoping we would return. We carried only our weapons and our water bottles.

  Then we entered. It was not long before Neyva lagged behind.

  The sunlight couldn’t penetrate the gray miasma. My own legs were barely visible through the thick, tainted air. We had to push our way through the trees, sometimes squeezing under branches or between trunks. The bone wood leaned in toward us. The soughing of the wind sounded like the cries of fallen men. The forest was leached of color, but scarlet flashed at the corner of my eyes.

  The air was so oppressive, it was hard for me to speak. “What’s that red?”

  “Don’t look. It’s spilled blood,” Hirschi said.

  It took all of my willpower to keep walking. Oberin’s proud figure was slumped, and once Neyva moaned. Hirschi walked as if he were a hundred years old. Ilse’s face was so pale every freckle stood out. When Neyva halted, heaving for air, Oberin gripped her hand and pulled her forward.

  The trees thinned, and we saw the first of the soul snares up close, along with the body it fed on. The fallen man was wrapped in thick, transparent cords, which pulsed with the fluids leaving his body. It reminded me of the cord I’d seen on a placenta. Judging by the remnants of his clothes, he’d been a trader from a caravan.

  When Oberin fell behind to help Neyva, Ilse and I kept walking together, scanning faces. There was a little man the size of a child, gurgling as the cords wrapped tighter—perhaps one of those Kijari who lived in caves. There were people wearing silks and fine woolens, and peasants wearing homespun. The Mannites and their allies had chosen a remote corner of the Heartland for the Elementals’ prison, and the Forest of Bones was near the Keep. I hadn’t expected to see so many fallen, but trading caravans and travelers must have passed by and been lured in.

  Ilse sped up, and then gasped as she approached a body. I ran to join her, coughing from the foul air.

  Kea didn’t look as bad as some, but he didn’t look good either. As I bent over him, I got my first good look at the snare’s handiwork. A network of thickening, pulsing threads covered Kea’s torso, penetrating the flesh, but there was still a touch of color to his face.

  I swallowed down nausea. “What do we do now?”

  “I’ll try to revive him.” Ilse’s voice was faint.

  “Don’t you need to know what the soul snare is showing him?”

  “I can guess. He needs to be adored. But I’m here now. I adore him. Maybe I’m enough.” She sounded desperate.

  “I’m the one who hurt him.” I leaned down, touched his hand. “Kea, I forgive you. Please come back.”

  Kea didn’t move. Not even a twitch. I was overcome with guilt. I’d said terrible things.

  Hirschi took me by the elbow. “The Demon was counting on this,” he reminded me. Oberin came up to my other side.

  “Berona, you must go to the heart of the forest and overcome your own challenge. If you can do so, all the snares will weaken. They are linked.”

  Reluctantly, I moved away. Ilse looked up for a final farewell. “Kea and I may both be lost. If you prevail and I die, please tell my brother I’m sorry.” Then she closed her eyes and touched my hand. “I feel your soul snare calling. It’s to your right. Not far.” As I left, I saw her cast a look my way—pity, mixed with envy.

  * * *

  So I was down to three companions. But they were three strong, seasoned warriors, all older than I was, and loyal. I fumbled for the pearl, felt its consoling peace, and wondered again where Luca was. Then a wail caught my attention. Neyva was doubled over, white, fighting for air.

  “She thought this might happen,” Oberin explained. “The Elder Race can’t breathe this air.”

  “You didn’t say anything.”

  Neyva looked up at me, trying to speak. Her lips turned blue.

  Oberin said, “I didn’t want to choose. Not yet.”

  “Choose?” My voice came out reedy, thin.

  “Between one promise and another. She’ll die here if I don’t help her. Release me,” Oberin said.

  He’d been remote since the night of the kiss. I’d thought it was just his way of keeping his distance. Now I realized something else was going on. He held the Princess tenderly, in a possessive way.

  “What have you done?” I whispered. Oberin was my rock, my anchor. Was he going to desert me?

  Oberin held my eyes, not trying to conceal his pain. “I’ve pledged myself to the continuance of her bloodline. If we destroy the Elementals, the Elder Race will die as well. She’s fighting to find a way for them to continue.”

  If someone had stabbed me, it couldn’t have hurt worse. Had I understood him correctly? Was it even possible for them to mate?

  Then I remembered. Georsi and the Elder Anasian had trothed.

  “I must go now,” he said, as Neyva collapsed.

  Hirschi came close, so only I could hear. “He’s waiting for you to release him.”

  I shook my head mutely. No. Not Oberin. Not him too.

  Hirschi continued, his voice flat and implacable. “This is the place where we do the thing that is hardest for us, face our weakness. Or our weakness devours us.”

  I raised my hand to Oberin’s face and brushed it tenderly. I could not find the words to say goodbye. I turned away, knowing he would do what he must.

  * * *

  The Demon had not lied. Shandon was dead. Kendall must be at Yassin, fighting the Elemen
tals. Oberin had chosen to save his future mate. Ilse had stayed at my lover’s side.

  Luca, the Prime? Well, that had always been a chimera.

  All that remained was the man who had once betrayed us. We stumbled on, the air sucking our strength, the menacing branches closing off the light.

  A dark pillar of smoke writhed ahead, coalescing. My throat pounded with my heartbeat, and gooseflesh rose on my arms.

  She was larger here, her dark wings unfurling slowly, sweeping the ground. Her eyes were black pits in her grim face; her incisors gleamed whiter than the pale trees.

  “Ah, the coward,” she said, as if she’d been wishing Hirschi a good morning.

  “I cannot kill an eternal creature, but you will feel my wrath,” Hirschi said, his voice scratched iron and ashes.

  “Stay with me,” I begged.

  “I must go. And I need the sword.”

  “No. No.”

  “I must go out to meet her, because it frightens me more than anything I can imagine. If you give me Shandon’s sword, I will have a chance. It is magic.”

  The Water Demon’s laugh was a mean grate against the air. “Even with the sword, you cannot kill me.”

  He tensed, gathering himself together. “But I can hurt you. Quite badly. I have new spells.”

  I touched the sword, wanting to refuse. Shandon had given it to me. It was the slight glimmer of a smile from the Demon that changed my mind. I drew it, pressed the hilt into his hand.

  “Do as you must, friend.”

  Hirschi wasted no time. He threw himself at her, and she writhed and snapped as he rained down blows.

  I might have stayed and watched, but I felt the pull of my snare from the corner of my eye.

  * * *

  I passed more bodies, people slumped below their own light of green poison. Some were Krill nomads, some I guessed to be traders, and then I spotted an Elder.