The Sentient Fire (The Seven Signs)

by D. W. Hawkins

  She ran with her heart beating like it was going to pop out of her chest and her dress flapping around her knees. She took different turns at every hallway crossing she came to, thinking that if she could turn down different hallways enough, she could escape whatever was behind her in the dark. She changed directions so many times that she had no idea where she was going, or where she’d been. She dashed around a corner, the fear raging wildly around in her head, and stopped dead in her tracks, sucking a breath in and holding it inside her chest.

  Far down the hallway in front of her, at an intersection in a pool of orange torchlight, was a man. He was crouched on the ground with his back to her, examining something on the floor. He was wearing one of those large, black cloaks that Dormael and D’Jenn wore when it was very cold, and Bethany couldn’t see what he looked like. Her heart was beating so loud that she could swear that he should be able to hear it, even as far down the hall as he was from her.

  Her footprints told a story in the dust, leading off into an adjacent tunnel, crisscrossing back and forth between the halls. The man was gazing intently at them, as if he was trying to decide which fork to take, and which tracks to follow. Bethany was so afraid that she could barely move, but she forced herself to take a step backwards, keeping her eyes on the man further down the hall.

  Her foot made a scraping noise against the stone.

  The man turned his face to her so quickly that she uttered a squeal of surprise, and suddenly she could feel another song in the magic. Before she could move she was surrounded with bright, white light. It caused spots to dance across her vision and hurt her eyes, but her heart was beating so loud and her head was hurting, and her eyes didn’t lose focus for a second. She recognized that song – it had been the one she and D’Jenn had found today during her lessons, the residue in Dormael’s room.

  The two locked eyes and for just a second Bethany thought that maybe she was just being silly. Maybe he wasn’t chasing her, maybe he was just down here for another reason that had nothing to do with her. Still, she knew she wasn’t supposed to be running around in the dark all alone, and using her magic, too. What if he got her in trouble?

  But…she’d seen him before. He was Dormael’s friend. He’d been at the homestead. She almost didn’t recognize him – she’d been passed back and forth between her new grandparents and doted on so much that she’d barely had time to register anything that night, but she remembered him.

  Bethany almost took a step forward in relief, feeling grateful that she had found someone who could show her the way out. But something about him stopped her. She wasn’t sure what it was, but something about the man felt wrong somehow. Maybe it was the way he was staring at her, like one of those hungry monsters in the stories she’d heard. He took a step forward.

  “Child,” he said, “Come here.” He said it strangely. His tone gave her a bad feeling, like there was a spider crawling over her. He took another step forward. Bethany took a step back.

  “Your father is looking for you, he sent me to find you.”

  He was lying. She would have known it even if she didn’t know that Dormael had gone out into the city. Sometimes she could hear people lying, and his lie rang like a bell in her head. She was so scared, but she forced herself to be brave, like Shawna.

  “Leave me alone,” she told him, her voice shaking a little. It felt good to say it, though. The man took another step toward her, and Bethany likewise took another step away from him.

  “Now, now,” the man chided, holding his hand out to her, “Just come along and I’ll take you back upstairs. We can go find your father together, alright?”

  “You’re a liar!” She wanted to say more, but his answering scowl scared her into silence. She took another step back, this time in response to his frown.

  “You come here, child. Now!” he said, and the last word hit her somehow, like a blanket being thrown over her. Before she knew what she was doing, she was taking a step towards the man. Her mouth wouldn’t work, and she didn’t want to go towards him, but she took another step anyways.

  “Good…Come here child, that’s it,” he crooned. His voice was like a rope dragging her down the hall, right toward him. Her Kai was singing frantically to her, struggling against the man’s song as it wrapped around her mind tighter than a snake. Her feet took another step. She was breathing so hard and her head hurt so much. She started to get dizzy, and she was suddenly just a scared little girl again, helpless again.

  Alone again.

  There was no one to help her.

  No!

  She took another step forward. The man’s song was ringing in her ears.

  NO!

  Her feet kept moving even though she fought them with every muscle in her body. The man was stepping toward her, his hand reaching out to take hers. She felt her song slipping away, being drowned out by his song.

  No, no, no, NO!

  Bethany screamed. She screamed with everything she could muster, pouring all of her fear into it, purifying the air around her with raw emotion. Several things happened, then.

  Suddenly her song was back, roaring through her like she’d never felt before, and it was just as angry and afraid as she was. Her screams lashed across the space between her and the man, slamming into him just as his voice had slammed into her, only stronger. Dust rose from the floor in a thin cloud as her scream hit him, and he slid back across the intervening space as he struggled against her, shouting with surprise and disbelief.

  His song tried to slide back into her head, but she screamed louder, forcing the sound of it out of her mind with her own song, pushing against him with every bit of fear in her body. His cloak flew backwards as if it was caught in a storm wind, but the air was still, save for Bethany’s screams. He pushed harder against her, trying to force his magic against hers, throwing some sort of attack at her, but her song was too loud in her ears, and his magic slid off of her like water.

  Never again never again never again never again…

  The stones in the hallway around her cracked suddenly, sending more dust flying up from the ground, and the man’s feet were lifted free of the floor. He slammed into the walls, once, twice, three times, and then even harder against the floor. She felt his breath leave his chest in a sudden, painful expulsion, but she kept screaming louder.

  Her magic was so angry.

  She held him to the floor, afraid that he would get up and try to hurt her. His hand reached upward, struggling with his body and his Kai against her, but she was not going to let him up. He shouldn’t have tried to hurt her. He shouldn’t have tried to lie to her. He shouldn’t have tried to use his magic on her.

  NEVER AGAIN!

  The torch flared brightly to life, the fire spreading along the walls and floor like water spilling onto a table. It happened slowly, inexorably, reaching farther and farther as Bethany screamed louder and louder. Her lungs pushed her voice out with all her might. Her throat hurt something awful, but the magic wanted more. It wanted to hurt everyone who had ever hurt her, and it wanted to start with the man on the floor. She closed her eyes tightly against the fear, trying force herself to move, to run, and to get away from the bad man on the floor. His Kai fought her desperately. She could feel him struggling against her, and she was surprised to realize that she was much, much stronger than he was.

  He started to sob and make pitiful grunting sounds. She could hear the spittle in his voice as he did, she could hear his voice start to break as he began to cry. Something about the sound made her begin to cry as well, as if that one little noise had broken the floodgate that was holding back her tears. Her fire crept closer and closer to him, and she could feel him getting weaker.

  “No!” he screamed, and the sound scared her again, driving her fear up, “No! PLEASE!”

  She turned and fled from him, running back down the hallway into the dark, her eyes blurry from the tears that ran freely down her face.

  She heard him begin to scream as the fire took him. />
  ****

  Everything seemed to happen at once. For one single, impossibly long second, Dormael crouched on the ground, feeling his magic sing through him like a torrent of victorious shouting, his naked body sweating and dirty, his hands still shackled with about a link’s worth of rusty chain hanging from them. The Taker’s ember eyes bored into his, its tongue still lashing at the air and quivering around its triangular head. Inera was still screaming, and he could feel her gathering her power for some sort of attack. The three guards behind him were reaching for their swords.

  Dormael weighed his options for a split second, surrounded by enemies, completely naked – and there was just something embarrassing about that on top of everything else – but far from helpless, now. Would it be worse to be killed by the sword, burnt to a cinder with magic, or…what was it that presence had told him about the Taker? It will crawl into your body and eat your insides, then wear your skin.

  Dormael liked his skin. He’d rather keep it, given the option.

  He screamed his anger at the ugly thing before him, reaching deep inside his being for the magic and willing it forth. Tiny fingers of iridescent lightning began to arc up from his body, touching the stone around him in quick flashes as he built his power to a crescendo. His hair began to stand and his skin tingled with anticipation, his muscles tensed for the explosion of power he was building. The lightning rushed up from his feet, through his shoulders and down his arms as he sent his magic forth.

  The bolt of lightning slammed into the Taker, lifting its wet, quivering body from the floor and sending it flying back toward the gate it had crawled from. The thing made no noise as it was hit and sent hurtling back into that swirling darkness behind it. As Dormael’s magic entered the gate, the thing began to waver, and just as quickly as it had formed, the rent in reality suddenly began to splinter. The dark fluid that it had seemed to be made from bled quickly back into the cracks in the stone, and all was oddly silent for a moment.

  Then the door burst into the room in a shower of broken wood and dust.

  Dormael had to cover his face and turn away from the sudden explosion, and he felt tiny pieces of the door pelt his shoulders and back as he cowered away from it. Inera was blown from her feet, having been standing near the doorway, and she slid across the dust and sand-strewn floor, tumbling over until she smacked into the far wall. She let out an angry, incoherent noise as she tried to climb to her feet, and Dormael rose and began gathering his magic again. He heard D’Jenn’s song ringing through his Kai, and it was the most welcome noise he’d ever heard.

  Dormael turned toward the door in time to see his cousin and his brother rush into the room and take a quick look around. Their eyes alighted on Dormael, and he could see relief written over their faces. In the next instant, they sprung into action.

  Allen saw the guards reaching for their weapons, and rushed toward the nearest one with his axe in one hand and his dagger in the other. The man got his sword out in time to block Allen’s first swipe with his axe, and was able to slip backward out of the path of a quick stab Allen aimed at his eyes. Allen didn’t waste any time squaring off with the guard, however. He kept moving forward.

  He kicked toward the man’s chest, but the guard was quicker than Allen had expected. The guard spun to the outside of Allen’s kick, ramming his shoulder into Dormael’s brother, sending Allen stumbling to the side against the near wall. The man pressed the advantage just as Allen had done, stepping forward and swinging his sword at Allen’s head, but Allen was the quicker of the two.

  As soon as Allen came into contact with the wall, he pushed off of it, ducking under the man’s sword and barreling into his legs, scooping his knees and pushing his hips off balance, sending the man painfully to his back. The short sword clattered to the floor as the man dropped it in surprise, his head banging against the hard stone of the floor and dazing him, but Allen quickly had to abandon the attack and roll away from a slash aimed at him by one of the guard’s companions.

  Allen scrambled across the floor as the man advanced and rolled to his feet in time to catch the man’s sword on the blade of his axe as it came down in a slash aimed at his neck. He slammed it to the side and stepped into the man, stabbing his dagger into the guard’s throat and pushing him away as blood sprayed forth from the wound. That man went down on his back, clutching at the wound in his throat and gurgling loudly as his lifeblood flowed over his hands and onto the floor.

  The third man had been stepping forward as his companion went down bleeding, and had to take a quick step backwards or risk being tangled with the dying man. Allen threw his axe at the man, but he ducked to the side and avoided the throw, and the axe clanged loudly against the wall of the chamber as it hit. The man let a quick smile play over his face now that Allen only had the dagger in his hand and rushed toward him, brandishing his short sword for a slash.

  Allen’s thrown dagger took him in the shoulder, causing him to drop the sword as his hand went suddenly limp with pain. He stumbled as he dropped his sword, and Allen scooped him in the same fashion as he had scooped the first man, taking him to the ground with a loud thump and the noise of the man’s breath leaving his chest as Allen landed on top.

  The guard reached toward Allen’s eyes with his good hand, but Allen caught hold of his wrist and then twisted the dagger in the man’s shoulder with his other hand. He screamed, his muscles slackening a bit in an involuntary reaction, and Allen took advantage by head-butting the man savagely, silencing his scream abruptly and dazing him. Allen didn’t waste any time. He reached up with both hands and caught hold of the guard’s hair and banged his head on the ground, putting all the weight and strength behind it that he could manage.

  The man’s limbs went flaccid by degrees, each subsequent blow accompanied by a wet thumping sound as his head was broken against the stones. Blood spread out from the man as Allen climbed off him, and his legs tried to gain purchase against the floor, sliding and kicking a bit as his breathing slowly sputtered to a stop. Allen looked to the third man, who was regaining his feet and faced him warily from across the room, sword recovered and held low in his hands.

  The third man was the one who had stabbed Dormael so many times. He’d been the one who had beaten him so mercilessly while he hung, helpless, from the chain. Dormael felt his anger rise, heating his blood to a boil as he caught sight of him.

  Before Allen or the other man could react, Dormael reached out with his magic, catching the man up in the grasp of his power and raising him from the floor. Allen started in surprise, looking to Dormael in askance as he stared hatefully at the man who’d hurt him over and over again. Coming to a decision, Allen moved to pick up his weapons, leaving Dormael to take care of the last guard.

  The man floated in the air, his limbs spread out as far as they could go as Dormael’s power flowed through him. He tried to scream, but nothing could come out of his mouth. The only noises he made were panicked breaths sucked through his nostrils as he sweated and struggled against Dormael’s magic. It did nothing to help him.

  Dormael slammed the man against the wall, and with an errant thought, his magic gripped the short swords of his companions and slammed them through the man’s shoulders. They rung loudly as they pinned him to the wall, quivering as they were rammed into the stone. Dormael let his body go to hang by the swords, and the man’s screams erupted as he did, rushing forth like water from a broken dam. Dormael paid them no mind.

  He glanced over to the table, where the jar of water rested beside that jagged little knife.

  ****

  The first thing that D’Jenn caught sight of as he rushed into the room was Dormael, crouched naked with flickering electricity still arcing from his body to contact the floor and a chain hanging from the ceiling. The remains of a Greater Circle lay around him, broken in the front by something that had blown the sand outwards. Upon the wall to his right was another circle, though D’Jenn didn’t recognize any of the glyphs that were scrawled inside a
nd around it. It had been broken as well, and there was some sort of black substance crawling into the cracks of the stone as the magic inside of the circle dissipated.

  He froze as he saw who was rising from the ground across from him.

  He’d met her once. Dormael had introduced her to him many years ago. She’d been the only woman his cousin had gone to the trouble of bringing him to meet. She looked like…exactly what, D’Jenn didn’t know. He’d never seen anything like this girl before him, the way she’d obviously been cut upon, weaving strange designs into her skin. Her hair had somehow been leached of all its color, leaving it a stark, bone-white. She was a remnant of the Inera that he’d met all those years ago, but it was her. There was no mistaking that.

  Her eyes met his, bloodshot and filled with a terrible anger. She was wearing some sort of tattered dress. It gave D’Jenn the impression of an old burial dress, decaying from years left in the ground. There was a song ringing out from her that could only be her Kai, but it was interlaced with something else, some different power that felt greasy and black. That must have been that wrongness that D’Jenn had felt earlier.

  She snarled at him wordlessly and startled him by lancing out with a torrent of fire, sending it spiraling toward his face. He’d almost been too startled to react, but instincts took over, and he pulled the water from the sewage trench that flowed around the edges of the room and packed it into a shield before him. Steam rose up in a hiss, and D’Jenn had to cover his eyes with his arm to keep from getting burnt. He’d barely had time to wonder what in the Six Hells she was doing here before she’d attacked. There was no time to worry about that, now.

  Thinking fast and still fending off the lance of fire that Inera was pouring more power into and trying to force past D’Jenn’s shield, he split his concentration in two and reached out into the room around him. His Kai moved through the room like a wind that couldn’t be felt, picking up every piece of errant debris that was lying around. The sand, the dust, the pieces of the door and anything light enough to be picked up by his magic was suddenly whirling around in a globe, blurring with the speed of its movement. He moved that toward Inera, engulfing her in the flying debris.