A Chorus of Fire

by Brian D. Anderson

  “What is it?” she asked, trying not to appear anxious.

  Belkar left without offering a reply.

  This was it. Whatever his true intentions, they were about to be revealed. She could see it in his eyes; feel it when hearing his voice.

  Mariyah slowed her breathing, remaining seated until the flutter in her stomach ceased and the rapid pounding of her heart became a steady beat. Belkar had a plan. But so did she.

  In the time Mariyah had been held, she’d hoped to find a way to escape. The more she learned, the closer she came to fulfilling Belkar’s designs. There was only one reason to allow her to become more powerful; one reason to pass on the type of knowledge she was learning. It was not to feed hungry people or end poverty. It was to shatter his prison so he could unleash the horror of his army upon Lamoria.

  That would not happen.

  Mariyah pushed back her chair, resolute in her intentions.

  In the gallery, Belkar was standing with his hands pressed to the archway, head bowed. “Come.”

  Mariyah had not stepped within twenty feet of the Gate and was not about to now. “What do you want to show me?” she asked, with slow steps taking position at the center of the room.

  “You are ready. It is time for you to choose.”

  “I’ve already chosen.”

  Belkar looked over his shoulder. “I know you would rather die than help me. Your defiance and strong will are the reasons you are a perfect companion. But you lack the experience the long ages have afforded me. You must know by now that to resist is a pointless exercise.”

  There was a deep rumble that felt to Mariyah as if it originated from the very heart of the mountain. At the opening of the corridor that led outside, the floor split with a deafening crack, forcing Mariyah to cover her ears. The break grew inch by inch until it was at least four feet wide and twice as long.

  The entire chamber pitched and shook, sending Mariyah to her knees. From within the fissure a black column rose. Mariyah could see that something was attached to the side, but the continuous jarring motion prevented her eyes from focusing. Once the column reached the ceiling, the quaking ceased.

  Mariyah could now see clearly. Her heart seized, and she let out a horror-stricken scream, as what was attached to the column was revealed. Lem. His eyes were open and he was breathing in short rapid gulps. Half of his body was embedded in the stone. If he could speak, he didn’t, but his eyes said he could see Mariyah.

  She scrambled up and ran headlong toward him. Sliding to a halt, she placed her hands on his cheeks. He was warm. This was not glamor. His tears sprang forth as he mouthed the words Forgive me.

  “Be still,” she wept. “I’m going to get you out of here. I promise.”

  “Now do you see?” Belkar said, who had turned to face her, his arms folded within his sleeves.

  “Let him go,” she cried. “Please. I beg you.”

  “You know the price,” he responded.

  Mariyah turned back to Lem. His breathing was labored and his face twitched erratically. She examined the column, running her hands along the surface outlining Lem’s body. Granite. She concentrated on the stone, muttering the chant and spreading her fingers on either side of Lem’s torso. Lem opened his mouth in a silent scream and his eyes rolled back in his head.

  “If you try to free him, he will die. I will crush the life from his lungs before your spell can take effect.”

  Releasing her magic, she cupped Lem’s face in her hands. His expression told her that the pain was subsiding. “Why? Why did you come here?”

  “He had no choice,” Belkar said. “You called him.”

  Mariyah gripped the pendant under her shirt.

  “Not intentionally,” Belkar added, his smile sympathetic. “You love this mortal too deeply to endanger him. I only used it as a conduit to project the incantation without harming my mortal form. And the figure you crafted of his likeness told me all I needed to know. That if you called, he would come, regardless the danger.” His gaze fell on Lem, who was watching in helpless silence. “I envy him, in a way. To have your love is a prize beyond value. One I will spend eternity seeking.”

  “I will never love you,” she said, her tone dripping with malice.

  “Never is longer than you think. In time, your heart will mend. You will see.” He removed his hands from his sleeves, and in his right she noted a folded parchment. “You have this choice to make. My body is dying. The capture of your dearest love has forced me to use too much magic for it to survive much longer.”

  Mariyah reluctantly accepted the parchment and opened it. It was a spell, but one like she’d never seen. It seemed to combine transmutation with an elemental magic. But how, precisely, she was unsure.

  “I don’t understand it,” she admitted.

  “You will. It’s an ancient form that draws upon the will and passion of the person who calls upon its strength. Both of which you possess in abundance.”

  She looked back at Lem, his eyes pleading with her not to go through with it. “If I refuse?”

  “Then this mortal dies,” he responded bluntly. “Most painfully. And nothing will have changed. In time I will break free. I only seek to speed the process in order to save the people from undo suffering. At this very moment, the armies of my followers are marching to prepare the world for my coming. The longer I remain in prison, the longer the conflict will endure. Think of the lives you will save by aiding me; the needless bloodshed prevented.”

  Mariyah was tormented. She knew he was lying. Belkar cared nothing about the suffering of mortals. He intended to unleash his army upon Lamoria to stamp out all resistance to his reign. Even those fighting in his name were doomed, though the fools would not realize it until it was too late. And in the end, once all the nations had bowed to his will, he would take their spirits into himself. In such a world, the dead would be the blessed.

  “Choose,” he pressed. “My time wanes.”

  Mariyah lowered her head. “I choose to save Lem.”

  Belkar smiled and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I know how difficult this is for you. You have my word. He will not be harmed.”

  Mariyah’s tears dried. She had made her decision, and there was no turning back. She took a final look at Lem. “I love you.”

  Belkar walked with her until they were a few feet in front of the archway.

  “Do not despair,” he told her, tenderly. “Your power and wisdom has saved the one you love most.”

  Mariyah took a seat and spread the parchment on the floor. Belkar approached the center of the Gate, and pressed his hands and forehead to the stone.

  As with the other spells she’d learned since arriving, the words initially had no meaning, and the gestures seemed confusing and pointless. But as she put voice to the words, they slowly revealed themselves. Like a tapestry of celestial beauty, they became threads to be woven, her hands the loom, until at last she understood what it was the magic intended to create.

  It was as Belkar described it: an elemental power that drew its strength from the heart of the user. But it was incomplete, like a house with no hearth, cheerless and devoid of spirit. As it was, the spell could only destroy. She was certain that it was intended to create … though create what was a mystery.

  “Hurry,” Belkar shouted. “Time is nearly gone.”

  “Your time is gone,” she replied, rising steadily, eyes fixed on her adversary.

  He spun to face her, enraged. “So you would doom your love just to spite me?”

  “I doom myself,” she answered defiantly. Mariyah’s left hand shot toward Lem, her right hand to the ceiling. A blinding ray of white light sprang from both simultaneously.

  Belkar rushed forward but staggered, gripping his stomach after a few steps. “Stop this!”

  Mariyah allowed herself a tiny grin as the column disintegrated to dust. Lem fell to the floor gasping, one hand outstretched, reaching for Mariyah.

  With Lem free, she focused the whole of
her power straight up. Enormous hunks of rock and crystal rained down, shattering between herself and where Lem was struggling to rise. Belkar was on his knees, writhing in pain, spitting and cursing. In moments the rubble was nearing the ceiling. With one final short burst of energy, she transmuted the top of the pile to seal herself off completely.

  “What have you done?” Belkar said, through gritted teeth.

  “I made my choice,” she replied coldly. “The one choice I knew you could never see or understand. My life in exchange for another.”

  Above, the ceiling continued to split and crack, though she had ceased casting. The entire structure was collapsing.

  Belkar managed to recover to his feet and limped to stand in front of Mariyah. He looked at her with a disappointed, almost sad expression. “You are indeed formidable. I was a fool to believe I could manipulate you so easily.” A fist-sized piece of stone shattered on the floor behind him. “You make the wait before we are reunited feel like eternity.”

  The cavern shook and the ceiling splintered, releasing a deadly storm of stone down upon them. Mariyah shut her eyes and waited for the brutal impact, the image of Lem smiling in her thoughts.

  The world fell silent. There was no crushing avalanche of stone battering her body to a pulp when she opened her eyes—only Landon’s body splayed out, its vacant eyes staring into nothingness. She looked up and covered her mouth. The rocks were frozen in midair as if time itself was halted.

  “Did you think I would allow you to die?” The voice boomed from all directions. “No, my love. The world would burn first.”

  “What is this?”

  “A gift. With the dying breath of this mortal shell that now lies at your feet, I give you the gift of time. Spend it wisely. I will come for you soon.”

  A tunnel appeared in the rubble, providing her a way out.

  “Run, my love.”

  Mariyah ran as fast as her legs could carry her, passing through the opening to the narrow space on the far side. A few yards to her right, Lem was desperately tossing stones from the pile in a vain attempt to reach her. The moment she emerged, he stopped and rushed over, wrapping her in his arms.

  The cavern shook once again.

  “We must hurry,” she said.

  They ran hand in hand through the passage, now unsealed, and exited back to the mountainside, stumbling onto the flat dais. Clouds of dust billowed after them as the collapse continued.

  Recovering their balance, they again ran until reaching the point where the path descended the mountain. Mariyah spun, and without a word or bothering to catch her breath, wrapped her arms around Lem, who returned the embrace fully. For minutes they stood there in silence, as if bound inseparably. No words were needed.

  When they did part, their eyes met, both dust-covered faces streaked with tears.

  “I’m sorry,” Mariyah whispered.

  He pressed a finger to her lips. “Never say that again. You have no reason to apologize to me. Not now. Not ever.”

  She crushed her lips to his, the love she had denied herself a relentless hunger that she refused to ignore for one more moment. She nearly shoved him to the ground with the force of her passion. But Lem gently held her back.

  “We need to leave,” he said. “It’s not over yet.”

  The soldiers at the bottom of the mountain, Mariyah thought.

  “Lem. There’s something you need to know.”

  “That you’re a Thaumas?” He smiled at her confusion. “Lady Camdon told me.”

  “How did you…”

  “I can tell you along the way. I need to see if Bram still lives.”

  “Bram is with you?”

  “He was. We were ambushed before we reached the foothills. They separated us on the way. I need to free him if I can.”

  Mariyah nodded and kissed him briefly. “Don’t worry. If he’s alive, I’ll free him.”

  Lem did not protest.

  As they descended, Mariyah felt as if she were walking through a dream. How could it be anything but? It had been so long since she had walked beside him. So much had happened. For them both. And here she was, holding his hand, only minutes ago having escaped from a demon who intended to lay waste to the world. The situation was both wonderful and absurd, joyous and surreal.

  Lem did not say much at first, looking as if he had no idea where to begin. Though when he did, she could tell something was troubling him. His conversation centered mostly on Shemi and the cities and towns they had visited—each story conspicuously absent of detail.

  “I’ve prattled on forever,” he said with an embarrassed smile. “And you’ve said practically nothing.”

  Mariyah leaned her head on his arm. “Keep talking. Please. I just want to hear your voice.”

  He kissed the top of her head and pulled her in close.

  After a time, it became even more apparent that Lem was bothered by something. He was holding back, and it was evident that a distance had formed between them. Not one caused by absence. And the way he smiled at her was enough to know his love had not diminished. In that respect, he was ever the young boy she had known. But he was hiding something. That much was plain.

  What does it matter? He’s here. And he’s alive. He’ll tell you his secret when he’s ready. For now, she’d do what Belkar had said: Spend her time wisely. Feeling the warmth of his flesh pressed into her hand, she understood how precious time could be. So much had been lost, and they had so little ahead.

  27

  CONFESSIONS

  Some loves can never die. The sharpest steel is blunted by its strength, the hottest flame cooled by its breath. It is in this that new magic is born.

  Mantra of the Thirteenth Ascension

  Lem slipped his arm around Mariyah’s shoulder and pulled her tight. “He was a brave man.”

  Mariyah buried her head in his chest and wept.

  They had found Bram’s body cast into a pile of rubbish, as if it were nothing more important than the bones from a discarded meal. The soldiers were dead as well, splayed about randomly as if they’d died all in the same instant. Some still held bottles or weapons; others had been warming themselves by the smoldering remains of a fire.

  Lem had located his belongings as well as a few thick blankets to keep out the cold until they were well clear of the mountains. The horses had been spared the soldiers’ fate, so it would only be a few days before they reached a town or village.

  “I wish they had been alive,” Mariyah said, choking back her sobs.

  So you could kill them yourself, he thought. Even in Mariyah’s kind eyes, he could recognize the fury of vengeance lurking. “I understand.”

  The pyre blazed, consuming Bram’s remains—a Lytonian funeral. Though neither she nor Lem knew the rites.

  “No you don’t,” she said. “And for that, at least, I’m grateful.”

  Lem felt guilt grip him by the throat. Gentle Lem. Kind Lem. The free-spirited musician who would never harm a soul. That was how she still thought of him.

  Mariyah refused to sleep among the dead soldiers, so once the pyre was spent, they readied their mounts and started out. Lem caught Mariyah giving him looks of deep consternation. She knew something was different about him. But her love would not allow her to see the darkness that shrouded his soul.

  It was near dawn before they found a suitable campsite. Lem built a fire, while Mariyah spread out the blankets. Her expression had changed from concern to one of desire—a desire he shared, but would not express. He couldn’t. It would be a lie. Of all his sins, that was one he refused to commit.

  They huddled together near the fire, and Mariyah slipped her hands around his waist, kissing his neck playfully.

  “Mariyah … I can’t.”

  Mariyah furrowed her brow, but her expression melted to one of compassion. “I know you’ve been through so much. Forgive me.”

  Lem lowered his head. “You can’t know how much I’ve wanted this moment. And dreaded it.”

  She li
fted his chin to meet her eyes. “Tell me what’s wrong. I can see that you’re in pain. Let me help you.”

  “You can’t. But you’re right. I am in pain.”

  “Tell me. Then we’ll see if I can help or not.”

  Lem paused for a lengthy moment while he screwed up his courage. “I’m not the man you think I am. I’m … a killer.”

  Mariyah let out an involuntary laugh. “Is that all? And here I thought you had something terrible to tell me. Lem—you were thrust into a brutal world you knew nothing about. You did what you had to do in order to survive. So did I.” When he cocked his head, she added: “That’s right. I’ve taken lives. More than one, in fact.”

  His surprise was short lived, drowned out by his unfathomable regret. “I have killed in numbers you can’t imagine.”

  From her expression, this was clearly unexpected. “How many?”

  “I lost count after becoming the Blade of Kylor.”

  Mariyah’s eyes widened as she sat up straight. “That’s not possible. I don’t believe you.” But her tone betrayed that she did.

  “I’ve killed in the name of a god I do not worship, for a cause I do not believe in.”

  Mariyah sat speechless for a time, then gradually her expression fell. “Tell me everything. From the moment you left Vylari to the moment you came to find me.”

  Lem turned away, staring at the embers as they popped and crackled, floating into the night before blinking out of existence. “I don’t think you want to hear it.”

  “Perhaps not. But I need to.”

  Unable to look at her, Lem began to recount his life from the day he’d left to the minute he was captured by Belkar’s soldiers. Mariyah wept at times, appearing angry at others. Lem wanted to stop, but he could not. There was only one way forward. The torrent of the various emotions she displayed ceased as he told her of the killing of Belkar’s followers in Ubania, her face becoming an unreadable mask.

  “I’m sorry you had to know this,” he said. “I wish it weren’t true. But it is. Every word.”