Embers

by Ronie Kendig

  “It was my shame for hiding behind my guilt.”

  “Your guilt?”

  “For not protecting you.” He swallowed, blinking away the burning. “I was your father—the Fire King, and yet I could not stop them from poisoning you!”

  Haegan’s chin trembled, his head slowly shaking. “I—” He looked away, then back. “I just wanted one hour of your time. Was it too much to ask?”

  “For me, it was everything to ask— I watched you sleep each night, tormenting myself with what I should’ve seen, what I should’ve done differently . . .”

  “You watched me?” Haegan’s voice cracked, sweat beading along his temples.

  “Every. Night.”

  Boom!

  The impact of whatever had struck the tower pitched Zireli forward. He swayed, but braced himself against the bed where Haegan had lain for so many years. “Forgive me. I beg Abiassa’s mercy from you.”

  “You said nothing. Spoke nothing. You just . . . watched?”

  The tower rumbled, the stones vibrating beneath his feet. “It was wrong—I know. But—”

  Crack!

  The floor beneath Zireli’s feet lurched. Tiles fell away into a dark abyss of nothingness as the tower surrendered.

  “Father!”

  Zireli searched for firm footing, only to realize Haegan was still there. “Go!”

  “Here! Take my hand.” Haegan lunged toward him, but a thick shadow rushed in from behind. Dark paws wrapped around Haegan’s midsection and lifted. “No!” He struggled against the ancient creature, but the raqine hoisted him from the rubble.

  “It’s her life’s work to protect you. Let her!” Zireli felt the floor vanish beneath his feet. He tensed as he fell away.

  “No!” Haegan’s blue eyes flashed gold.

  Instantly, a shield of heat wrapped around Zireli as the distance between him and his son once again grew. Darkness and smoke pulled him farther down. “The gate,” Zireli shouted. “I’ll bring Kaelyria there!”

  “Hurry! He’s targeting the main supports,” Haegan hollered from atop his raqine.

  The incredible sight inspired Zireli, sent him flying down the stairs with hope in his chest.

  54

  “Forgive me, Father,” Kaelyria whispered into her father’s neck as he carried her down the stairs. Tears saturated his fine tunic.

  He said nothing but continued down.

  Thud! Whoosh!

  They canted to the right, her father throwing himself against the wall to avoid a falling timber. With a grunt, he pushed himself down a few more steps.

  Crack! Groaan!

  He looked up and started hustling, but her weight was clearly an obstacle.

  “Please . . . I beg your mercy. If I am to die, I do not want it to be with guilt and your hatred—”

  “I could never hate my own blood,” he ground out, sweat and blood from a cut smearing across his face. “Save your strength. If you survive this, he’ll need you.”

  “Then I have your mercy? I had to surrender my abilities—that’s what Poired was after. I could not let him have my gift. He would be too powerful and Seultrie undefended.”

  “What is done”—he grunted and hopped over a gap in the steps—“is done. We must deal with the now. You are as much a part of the Fierian as he is the embodiment.”

  “Fierian?”

  He coughed. “Hush. Save your breath—the smoke is too heavy.”

  “Mother—”

  “Waiting at the door.”

  Kaelyria hated her helplessness. Hated that she had been deceived. Her father was right. She had bartered away her soul to protect Seultrie and still they lost everything. “At least Haegan is free.” When he said nothing, she feared he still accused her brother. “On your honor, you must not blame him. It was me—I deceived him. He did not—”

  “Silence!”

  The world tilted. Groaning overcame the roar of the fire devouring their home.

  Arms tightened around her. Her father took a breath. Then jumped. They went airborne amid a mighty, thunderous crash.

  Kaelyria closed her eyes and held her breath, terror clutching her in its painful claws.

  They hit the ground. Pitched forward.

  Kaelyria vaulted from his arms. With a scream, she flew through the air. Hit the floor hard. Though paralyzed, she strangely felt everything. The massive impact. The agonizing pain that seemed to rend her in two as she slid across the floor and collided with a stone pillar.

  “Kaelyria!” her mother screamed.

  “Adrroania, the door!” Her father sprinted to her side, knelt, and scooped Kaelyria back into his arms. They headed to the great oak doors, the fire lighting the stone bridge that spanned the inner gate from the house. From this elevation, they could see the town burning. Could see Poired sitting on his horse as he had for the last two months. Watching. Seething.

  His horse reared. And for the first time in the weeks since the siege began, Dyrth rode down to the keep.

  • • •

  Satisfaction smothers the common sense of Poired Dyrth as his Auspex and general ride down into the mouth of the dragon. So ready is he for his payment, for his right to end the life of Zireli of Zaethien, that he gives no heed to the fires. To the skirmishes happening around him.

  He rides gleefully down to the gate. His soldiers, who guarded the entrance these long weeks, open the passage. Dismounting, he meets the fiery gaze of Zireli. “At last,” Poired shouts. “You come from your high places and surrender.”

  Zireli carries a lump of flesh in his arms and carefully sets the body aside. “Your fight is with me, Poired.” Beard stained with the ash of his crumbling home, he stands defiant.

  “The Fire King no longer looks so shiny and pretty.” Poired plucks off his gloves, one finger at a time. “In fact, you look defeated, Zireli.”

  The queen draws the body of her daughter aside, into the shadows. As if she can hide her. Protect her. Zireli stands in the middle of the bridge and spaces his legs shoulder-width apart, then crosses his arms at the wrist and holds them there.

  Poired laughs. Laughs hard and loud as he climbs the steps to the lip of the bridge. “No, Zireli, your gift is no longer your ally. It is your foe.”

  Lowering his chin, Zireli draws in on his focus as all accelerants are taught. As all wielders learn in their first year. Prays Poired does not call his bluff. “I will yield,” Zireli offers, “if you guarantee the lives of my wife and daughter.”

  Still smiling, Poired stands at the gate and raps a fist against the stone. “I knocked for two months and nobody answered. Think you that I will so easily accept that slight?”

  “My life for theirs. It’s a fair trade.”

  “No.” Poired takes a step forward. “The life of a Fire King, perhaps, but the life of a sapped-out accelerant? Hardly.”

  The rocks at Zireli’s feet explode in a shower of embers.

  Poired laughs harder, his heart dark and fed by the fire of Sirdar. And with a mighty blast, he sends the Fire King sprawling backward.

  Sirdar’s Voice decides to be heard. “One—”

  A mighty shriek severs the Voice.

  Poired looks up. Cowers at the great shadowy beast circling the air. Then he stands and laughs. “There! That is what we have been waiting for.” He holds up his arms. “Come down, Fierian. It is our time!”

  55

  Terror held Haegan in a strangling grip as Chima circled the keep. Wings splayed, she hovered above the bridge. He had no weapon. No sword. Only an uncontrollable ability.

  Poired shouted at him again. “Won’t you join the celebration?” With that he turned and took out his full vengeance on Haegan’s mother.

  Her screams pierced his heart.

  “Nooo!” Haegan directed Chima down.

  The mighty raqine dove, then swooped at the last minute. To his surprise, she clawed Poired’s shoulder. The Dark One yowled.

  Chima kept moving, descending until Haegan lifted his leg over he
r back and slid off, dropping several feet to the ground. “Go,” he shouted to her. “Stay high!”

  She screeched into the dim morning.

  Haegan scrambled to his mother’s side. She lay unmoving. Blood trickled from her nose and ears. She smelled . . . burnt. No life remained in her. Grieved, he lifted her—and realized she hovered over another.

  His sister. “Kaelyria!”

  She cried.

  “Go,” came his father’s guttural shout. “Get her out of here.”

  Haegan stared at his father, his face crimson from pain. Still dumbstruck by the conversation in the tower, he panicked at seeing him so . . . defeated. “Father—”

  A plume of smoke coalesced into Poired Dyrth. Lip curled, eyes glowering, he stormed toward Haegan’s father.

  “No!” Haegan lunged forward. His hearing popped.

  Poired sneered. “Yes, Fierian. Yes, show me that anger. Show me that rage!”

  Warning blazed through Haegan as he stopped on the bridge, halfway between his father and sister. Anger. Anger would weaken him. Reach first for wisdom.

  Wisdom . . . yes . . . What was wise?

  Take Kaelyria and flee?

  Rescue his father?

  Eyes on Haegan, Poired Dyrth swept his hands at his father.

  The king arched his back with a strangled cry. And Haegan knew his fear had spoken true. Weakened by whatever had happened at the Kindling, his father writhed before him, once the mightiest accelerant in history.

  No, that’s me. The Fierian. They said I would destroy everything.

  Let that start with Poired.

  Haegan took a step forward. With everything in him, he punched.

  Poired slid backward a dozen feet. And laughed the whole way.

  “No,” his father ground out, the veins in his temple bulging blood-red against his blond hair. He gripped Haegan’s tunic. “Go! Hae . . . gan. Go!”

  “Father—”

  “It’s not a curse! It’s the great”—his father gritted his teeth, blood slipping from his nose and over his lip—“gift. Serve her! Save—” His father howled as he slammed into Haegan on an invisible wave of heat, then dropped. Lifeless.

  “No!” Haegan roared.

  Kill Poired.

  The venom of that thought pierced his resistance. Sped through his veins. His vision bled red. His veins pulsed with the fire of the Lakes. It hurt, burned. Agony.

  Laughter splintered the beckoning.

  Haegan looked to Poired and realized the wicked general was wielding against him. Grinning. Laughing. Taunting.

  Anger . . . Anger weakens . . .

  Thiel. Thiel. Think of her. Beautiful Thiel. Her sweet kisses. Her laughter.

  Poired frowned. Pushed.

  He killed my father. And mother. Everyone in Seultrie.

  The thoughts were acidic. Strange. Strong.

  Haegan remembered Thurig’s words about turning a thought against a person, using it against them. To feed my anger.

  Poired was working Haegan’s anger against him.

  He’s too powerful. Haegan knew he had but one chance to get free of this accelerant. He wasn’t sure how to do it, but he tried to summon Chima back. If she could topple the overlook, it’d put a barrier between him and Poired. Create enough time to escape.

  “You fool!” Poired stalked closer.

  Kneeling, Haegan pushed forward with his hand, focusing hard to thwart the Dark One’s approach.

  Poired speared him. A strong bolt pierced Haegan’s side. He yelped and doubled over. Holding his wound, he searched the sky for Chima. Nowhere.

  This was stupid. He didn’t have enough training. He should have listened.

  “The great destroyer. The rioter. Reckoner. The one who breathes fire and destroys the Lakes,” Poired growled as he advanced, Haegan’s wielding countering one step but the mighty general taking two. “You young fool. You are no match for me.”

  Blood streamed down Haegan’s nose.

  And with a strange move to his hands, Poired split his wielding.

  Kaelyria cried out behind him.

  Poired hit her! Haegan shouldered into the wielding.

  The laughter of the menace warned Haegan he was operating out of anger. Vengeance. Yes! He wanted this man’s blood. Spilled all over the bridge. Slaughtered.

  An enormous blast of heat flipped Haegan head-over-heels backward. He smacked hard against the stone. As if a thousand fiery knives needled him, Haegan clawed onto all fours. Anger tugged at him. At his will. Pushed him.

  “You are weak! The Lakes of Fires will burn forever. Her champion is a boy who cannot even wield. His father a weakling.”

  No. Haegan knelt and bent forward, balling his fists. Waves of anger barreling through him. Begging him for freedom. To crush the life from the—

  Poired shot a blast at his father’s body, flipping it over needlessly. “Limp as a rag!”

  Haegan punched to his feet. His hands blasted out. His vision became shades of blue and gray. His pulse roared in his head.

  “No!” Out of nowhere a man materialized, his appearance hovering like a ghoul. He was beautiful but horrible. Powerful and terrible. His visage one of righteous rage and power. “No, you will not do this!”

  Deliverer!

  Confusion did little to stem the fury in Haegan as he stared past the Deliverer to Poired, who seemed frozen. “He must die!” This was his chance—while the Dark One couldn’t move! He raised his hand.

  “No!” The Deliverer lifted a sword. Swung it overhead. And crashed it down on Haegan’s arm.

  Agony buckled Haegan’s knees. He wavered but stayed on his feet, the thoughts of his parents and sister fueling his fury. “He must die. Let me kill him!”

  The Deliverer stood over him, both hands on the hilt of his weapon. Then there were two more, circling Haegan. “You are forbidden, Fierian,” they spoke in unison. “This is not yours to do.”

  Haegan crashed forward, not caring.

  He bounced off something—the blue haze that held the Three. Like a thin sheet. The leader, the one who had struck him, reached out and gripped Haegan’s wrist. “For your rebellion, you will forever have a remembrance of this moment.”

  “Augh!” Fire lit through Haegan’s arm, searing every muscle and nerve ending. It wasn’t until he was on his knees, tears streaming down his face, that the Deliverer released him. “Ride your raqine. Save your sister.”

  The three were gone. But their reminder wasn’t.

  Poired stumbled, his eyes wide. He spun around, searching for an explanation. A foe.

  Crack! Crack-crack!

  Haegan looked up in time to see the overlook collapsing in exhausted defeat. It spit its supports onto the bridge. Poired scrabbled backward as the span splintered in two.

  With a look to his dead father, Haegan scrambled back to Kaelyria, holding his arm to his side to avoid the daggers of pain. “Kae! Are you well?” Was she alive? Their parents were dead.

  Thump. Thump.

  Haegan jerked back, expecting to see Poired. Chima landed and frantically shook her head at him.

  “Right. Hurry.” He slid his arms under Kaelyria’s shoulders and legs, alarmed at how cold she was, at how agonizing the pain in his arm. He lumbered to his feet. Stumbled over to Chima, collapsing against her. He hoisted his sister onto her back then climbed on. He scooted toward her neck and pulled Kaelyria into his tight hold. “Go!”

  Chima, instead of going up, went down. She skimmed the small river that encircled the keep, then soared up out of it on the south side, avoiding the overlook were Poired’s army had formed up. As she sailed into the sky, Haegan glanced back. To the bridge. Mother. Father.

  Grief pulled at him. He’d failed them. Failed the kingdom. He didn’t understand why the Deliverers stopped him. Why they defended the poison that had infected the planet. Why they . . . punished him.

  A blaze of fire shot into the sky, snagging Haegan’s attention. A warning shot. From Poired. The battle was not o
ver. It had just begun.

  Acknowledgements

  Brian/kiddos – to my amazing family, who puts up with On-Your-Own meals and when I escape into my cave to write for hours at a time. God spoiled me with each of you!

  Rel – My beautiful friend from Down Under – you have kept me sane, kept me laughing, and kept me writing. The gift of your friendship is one I didn’t deserve, but I will gladly horde with all my might. Thank you! XOXO

  Shannon – You’ve read everything I’ve ever written for the last ten years, and I just cannot thank you enough for our writing nights and “sharing.” You call yourself “fangirl,” but I call you “amazing friend.” I praise God for the gift of you!

  Reagen Reed – editor extraordinaire!! Your skillz were evident from the start, and I could never thank you enough for chiseling this molten rock of a story into something good. Thank you!

  Vicky/Mom – thank you so much for your last-minute help on grammar questions, but more than that—as a writer yourself, you “get” me and have been so incredibly supportive from the very beginning (twenty-five years!!). I love you and am so honored/grateful to call you, “Mom.”

  Vvolt N629 – my four-legged hero. I love the way you demand attention, pulling me away from the keyboard for some true ‘down’ time. You keep me sane, and you keep me laughing.

  Shannon Dittemore and Jill Williamson – Thank you, ladies, for not just reading but endorsing the very rough and raw chapters of Embers. Your encouragement was such a boon! Praying God continues to bless you both!

  Jim Rubart – Big Brother – thank you for your mad skillz writing back-cover copy. But mostly, thank you for being my “big brother,” and encouraging/challenging me in the Lord, in writing, and in life! Live Free!

  Dineen, Robin, & Heather – Well, chickadees, it happened—I finally got a speculative story published. The journey started long ago, and you were there. And I promise, someday…Marco.

  About the Author

  Ronie Kendig is an award-winning, bestselling author. She lives in beautiful Northern Virginia with her hunky hero, their children, a Maltese Menace named Helo, and a retired military working dog, Vvolt N629. The author of Rapid-Fire Fiction, Ronie and her action-packed stories transcend genres and engages readers with an exciting, clean read. She speaks to various groups, teaches at national conferences, and mentors new writers.