Flame Singer (Fire Sower Book 2)

by Callie Kanno

  The galaxy of lights started to swirl around Hildar, going faster and faster with each passing moment. Some of the light separated itself from the rest, moving to circle the dagger in Kurag’s hand. Then, with a sudden flare, they winked out, returning to the bodies from whence they came.

  Hildar collapsed onto the rocky ground, unconscious. Kurag also fell to his knees, drained from the effort of the reforging. Idris rushed to their side, scrambling to pull his partisan from its holder. He grimaced from the intensified heat, breathing through clenched teeth.

  He used his weapon to gather energy, just as his training had taught him, then he transferred it to Hildar. She wasn’t able to receive it in the normal sense, but her breathing seemed to steady after the glowing ball passed through her skin.

  You are not a healer, Iona said with amusement.

  I know, he responded defensively. I just figured that it might help.

  Perhaps, the partisan mused, sounding unconvinced.

  Kurag’s large hand rested on Idris’s shoulder, applying pressure. “Thank you,” he breathed heavily. “You saved her.”

  Idris experienced a surge of anger directed at the Forger. “Why did you go through with it if you thought it could kill her?”

  Kurag shook his head. “I told her every step of the process, and she said she still wanted to do it. I knew she had the strength to do it, but you were the one who told her how to bring that strength out.”

  Idris looked down at Hildar’s face. She looked peaceful as she slept. “When will she wake?”

  “Soon,” the Forger assured him. “For now, let us leave this valley. Some cool air would do all of us good.”

  Give me to the Forger, Iona instructed.

  Idris offered his partisan to Kurag, which the part-giant accepted gratefully. He leaned on it as he got to his feet, then used it to steady himself as he walked. Idris picked up Hildar, cradling her in his arms like a child.

  He had no idea when they would know if the reforging had been successful or what changes it would mean for his friend. He just prayed that it would be worth the sacrifice he had seen Hildar make that day.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine: True Potential

  Captain Cowan and Aherin were waiting anxiously for their return. Idris had never seen the old soldier look so discomfited. He rushed forward to meet them as soon as they had reached a safe distance from the Wellspring.

  “Is she alive?” Cowan demanded.

  Idris nodded wearily. “Yes, she is alive.”

  “She will be fine,” Kurag assured him. “She just needs to rest.”

  Aherin’s eyes were wide as he spoke. “I have never heard such screaming. It seemed something from a nightmare.”

  “It was not easy to watch,” Idris admitted.

  “Well, let us move to a safer location,” Cowan said in a gruff tone. “Aherin, help Idris to carry Hildar.”

  Aherin took her feet while Idris held her under her arms. The climb out of the valley wasn’t steep, but it was still difficult while carrying their companion. Once they had made it to the trees and the fresh air, they carefully set her down on the ground.

  Kurag knelt beside Hildar, placing Savion in her unconscious hands. When Idris gave him a questioning look, the Forger smiled. “They will help each other to heal.”

  The rest of the group got comfortable as they waited for Hildar to wake. Idris leaned toward Kurag. “How are you doing?” he inquired quietly. “You must be exhausted.”

  Kurag leaned back against a tree trunk, closing his eyes. “I am tired,” he agreed, “but I am happy. It has been many years since I have used my gifts in the way they were intended. I often felt discontented with doing nothing more than hiding away.” A slow smile spread across his face. “What I did today…my mother and father would have been proud.”

  Idris thought of Kurag’s mother in his vision, with her eyes aglow as Kurag worked. “Yes, she would have,” he murmured.

  Kurag opened his eyes, turning them to study the young man next to him. “You speak as though you knew her,” he observed.

  Idris really wasn’t sure the best way to respond. Did it matter if he told Kurag about the visions he had seen during this journey? He licked his lips nervously before deciding to plow ahead. After all, if he couldn’t trust a Forger, then he couldn’t trust anyone at all.

  “I had a dream about you and your mother,” Idris told him. “I saw you forging a sword named Settil.”

  Kurag drew in his breath sharply. “When did this vision happen?”

  “Last night,” Idris answered. “The forging song is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard.”

  Kurag’s eyes grew misty. “Yes. Few have been privileged to hear it. I do miss it…”

  “After I saw you and your mother forge the sword, Calaris appeared to speak to me,” Idris went on. “She was the one who told me how to help Hildar.”

  “Have you had such visions before?” Kurag asked.

  “Not often,” Idris replied, “but, yes.”

  “Interesting,” the Forger mused.

  Idris suddenly felt a wave of concern. “Is that unusual?”

  Kurag quirked an eyebrow at him. “Is it unusual to have visions from a dragon long dead? I would say so.”

  “Even for Wielders?” he pursued. “At the Wellspring in Marath we all had visions on the origins of our weapons.”

  “Have you been in direct contact with a Wellspring each time you have seen a vision?” Kurag countered.

  “No,” admitted Idris.

  Kurag shrugged. “Then that particular example does not apply. I have heard of the spirits of the dead visiting seers in dreams, but you are not a seer. It is most curious.”

  Idris felt his heart beginning to speed up. “What does it mean?”

  Kurag rubbed his chin, staring at the ground thoughtfully. “My mother always said that items of power had more potential than we realized. Perhaps you will be the first Wielder to discover some new aspect of that untapped potential.”

  Idris found his thoughts hovering around what he had seen occur between Hildar and Savion. “You do not think that the dreams are a symptom of something wrong?”

  “Do they feel wrong?” inquired Kurag.

  Idris thought back to his dreams, assessing what he had felt when they happened. He had been confused initially, but then amazed by what he was being shown. Also, there was the undeniable fact that Calaris’s advice had saved Hildar’s life during the reforging. “No,” Idris answered firmly. “They feel like a gift.”

  The Forger nodded his approval. “Then they are a gift.”

  Did you really need a Forger to tell you that? Iona asked wryly.

  Idris shrugged off her teasing. It gave him peace of mind to have someone as knowledgeable as Kurag assure him that nothing was wrong.

  On the other side of the part-giant, Hildar began to stir. She pushed herself up on her elbows, gingerly holding her head. “What happened?” she croaked.

  “Lay back,” Kurag warned her as he helped her to take a drink from a waterskin. “Let your body recover.”

  Hildar looked down at the dagger in her hand. Her eyes were a complex mixture of hope and disbelief. “Did…did we…?”

  “You tell me,” Kurag urged.

  Idris noticed that the dagger did seem brighter than before. It gleamed as though it had only just been made. Hildar ran her fingers over the surface, her mouth parted in an expression of wonder. “He feels brand new,” she whispered.

  “He is,” affirmed Kurag. “It is as though you are his first master.”

  “His past is gone,” she marveled. “I can see to his core, and there is no hint of darkness.”

  Idris frowned. “He cannot remember anything?”

  Hildar’s head tilted to the side. “He knows who he is, and he knows who I am. He knows there is a past, but he does not wish to know it.”

  “How do you feel?” Kurag asked, studying her face carefully.

  Hildar crossed her hands over h
er heart, searching within herself. Her voice caught as she spoke. “I feel free.”

  Idris felt a lump forming in his throat, too. Hildar’s face was positively beaming with joy and relief. He hadn’t thought that he’d see a physical change in Hildar after the reforging, but there was a tangible shadow around her that had finally been dispersed.

  Cowan and Aherin moved closer, each looking relieved to see Hildar awake. “Are there any injuries that need tending?” asked Cowan.

  Hildar shook her head. “No, sir. I have a bit of a headache, but that is all. I think I will be strong enough to walk in a few minutes.”

  “You do not need to push yourself,” Aherin told her. “We all could use the rest.”

  “I want to get back to Marath as soon as possible,” Hildar admitted. “I do not like that we have been away so long.”

  Cowan nodded in understanding. “We will get there soon enough. I suggest we all sleep for a few hours, then journey as far as we can tonight. If we push ourselves we can cross over into the borders of Calaris in less than two days.”

  Everyone nodded, moving to comply, except for Idris. He remained seated next to Hildar, turning to speak to her in a low voice. “How much do you remember?”

  Hildar’s expression flickered. “I remember pain…so much pain. It was not physical pain, but agony in my soul. I wished my body would tear itself apart, because anything would have been better than what I was feeling.”

  Idris nodded slowly. He couldn’t begin to understand what Hildar had been through, but his heart went out to her. He had witnessed her suffering, even if he hadn’t felt it, and that gave him a unique insight into what she had experienced.

  “I remember your words,” she said, looking over at him, “calling to me from the darkness.”

  Idris couldn’t tell from her expression how she felt about his interference. His gaze dropped to his hands on his lap. “You were dying,” he told her. “Kurag and I could both see that. I…”

  Hildar reached over to take his hand. It was a sisterly gesture, accompanied by a warm expression on her face. “You saved me,” she smiled. “You helped me find the strength I needed to keep going.”

  A small sigh escaped Idris’s lips. “I am glad.”

  “I spent so many years pushing my love for Lennon away from my heart,” Hildar murmured, almost as if to herself. “I was afraid of what loving him would mean. I never would have used that love if you had not prompted me.”

  “It was not entirely my idea,” Idris admitted modestly.

  Hildar smiled again, but her eyes had a distance look to them. She settled back against a nearby tree trunk, folding her arms across her chest. Her dagger sat in her lap, glittering in the dim light.

  “What are you going to do now?” Idris ventured.

  Hildar’s lips pressed together. “The reforging changed me just as much as it changed Savion. I embraced my love for Lennon while passing through fire, and now it is seared into my soul. I can never pretend it does not exist.”

  “Would you want to pretend that?” asked Idris.

  She shook her head. “No. I just hope that he can forgive me for how I have treated him all of these years.”

  “He loves you,” Idris assured her. “He will forgive you.”

  “I will send word to the Dagmar as soon as we reach Calaris, ordering them to sail back to Marath,” Hildar resolved.

  “That sounds like a good plan,” he approved.

  “In the meantime,” Hildar said, picking up her dagger, “I have a lot of training to do.”

  With a look of concentration, Hildar gathered energy to her weapon. She formed the energy into the illusion of a herd of tiny horses, as she had done during their training sessions with Farah. Idris noticed that the color of Hildar’s glowing power had changed from a deep red to lighter hue. It reminded Idris of the shades of rose that could be seen in the sky as the sun began to rise.

  “How is it?” he asked her lightly.

  Hildar’s voice was filled with amazement. “Wonderful,” she breathed. “I never imagined it would be so easy to work with Savion.”

  The fiery illusion disappeared as Hildar let go. She ran her fingers over the surface of the blade, a smile of anticipation on her face.

  “Aherin and I will have to work hard to keep up with you,” Idris observed.

  “You can try,” Hildar grinned.

  Idris chuckled as he moved away from her side. He found a comfortable patch of ground where he could lay down to sleep, closing his eyes immediately.

  When Captain Cowan shook everyone awake, the light of day was all but gone. They ate some dried rations as they made their way down the mountain, back to where they had left their horses. They had to move slower in the darkness, but Idris felt they kept a decent pace.

  Dawn was still a few hours away when they reached the meadow where the horses were waiting. As they left the cover of the trees, Cowan slowed to a stop. He held up his hand to indicate that the others should do the same.

  “What is it?” Kurag inquired.

  Before the captain could speak, the answer became apparent. Several shadows detached themselves from the trees on the opposite end of the meadow, moving into the open. There were six of them, all cloaked in black.

  “Hunters,” Kurag hissed.

  Fear gripped Idris’s heart. Even though it was a smaller group of enemies, there was a significantly greater sense of malice. Idris could tell that this was no ordinary group of Hunters.

  “What do we do?” Aherin asked Cowan.

  The soldier sounded grim as he answered. “We finish this once and for all.”

  Chapter Forty: The Order of Tivan

  The two opposing forces met in the middle of the meadow. Idris gripped his partisan, trying to hide his anxiety. Cowan appeared completely confident as he stepped forward to speak with the Hunters.

  “This needs to end,” the captain announced. “We have accomplished what we came to do, so it is too late for you to stop us. Now we just want to return to our homes.”

  The foremost Hunter was a surprisingly young man, with curly black hair and a thin mustache. He held in his hand a short staff with elaborate carvings all along its surface. “I have been sent by the holy leader of the Order of Tivan to purge the world of your evil,” the young Hunter declared. “I care not for your intentions.”

  “It seems to me that your leader is more of a hypocrite than a holy man,” Kurag spoke up. He pointed to the staff in the Hunter’s hand. “Or does he not know that you are using items made by Forgers?”

  The Hunter’s grip tightened. “This scepter is a sacred item, given to the Order of Tivan to aid in its holy purpose.”

  “It was made by Forgers, not by some deity,” Kurag spat. “I would not be surprised to find other Forger-made items used by Hunters—namely, amulets that protect against magical attacks.”

  Some of the Hunters in the back shifted uncomfortably. “Enough,” shouted the leader. “You are trying to shake our faith, but it will not work. We are Cleansers, the most dedicated of all. Our only purpose is to rid the world of your taint.”

  “How can you be so blind to the truth?” demanded Kurag. “You know that you used Forger-made items, so you know that not all of them are evil. How can you still pursue us when we have done nothing wrong?”

  Instead of becoming angrier, the young Hunter lost all emotion on his face. He took a deep breath, speaking in monotone. “We are Cleansers, the most dedicated of all. Our only purpose is to rid the world of your taint.”

  Taking their cue from their leader’s words, the Hunters slowly began to fan out. Idris and his companions automatically mirrored their actions, watching their enemies warily. The only two figures to remain stationary were Captain Cowan and the lead Hunter. Idris reached up to remove the cloth that covered the head of his partisan, tucking the fabric into his belt.

  Idris found himself standing opposite to a Hunter holding a curved saber. He was a middle-aged man with matted hair and a
crazed look in his eyes. He wasn’t much shorter than Idris, but he seemed smaller due to his slight build. Idris nodded with resolve, sizing up his opponent.

  With a sudden movement, Cowan twirled his bo staff into an offensive stance. He made a jabbing motion at the ground at the Hunters’ feet, where Idris expected to see a bolt of lightning explode. Instead, the scepter in the lead Hunter’s hand flashed with light, nullifying Cowan’s attack.

  There was a moment of stunned silence as every member of the Royal Guard stared at their captain. It was bad enough that they could not use their weapons to use direct magical attacks, but now this scepter appeared to block any use of magic at all.

  Can you still fight? Idris asked Iona anxiously.

  In response, a faint glow danced along the length of the partisan. It appears that the scepter must be directed at a specific enemy, Iona observed. However, I can still feel a radiating effect from it. I feel much weaker than normal.

  Idris’s expression became grim. I guess that means we should keep our distance from that Hunter, he responded.

  Captain Cowan tightened his grip on his weapon, rushing forward with a savage yell. His determined attack spurred everyone else into motion. The Hunter with the saber charged directly at Idris, closing the distance between them in mere seconds.

  Taking courage from the glow of his partisan, Idris attempted to send a ball of fire at the feet of his opponent. But before the energy could take form, the light flickered out.

  I am sorry, Idris, gasped Iona. My strength is being sapped.

  Idris didn’t have time to reply. The saber-wielding Hunter was upon him, thrusting the blade toward Idris’s abdomen. Idris stumbled backward, bringing his polearm up to deflect the blows. He was barely able to keep to his feet as he defended himself.

  The Hunter changed his method of attack, sweeping the saber up and down in slashing motions. He moved with a fluid sort of grace, attacking so quickly that Idris could barely keep up with him.

  Idris had to use the length of his partisan to protect his body from harm. His eyes darted to follow the path of the saber’s blade, trying to anticipate his enemy’s next move. The Hunter made as if to slash downward again, so Idris shifted his partisan into position. With a quick shift in his footing, the Hunter changed his attack to a thrust, burying the tip of his sword into Idris’s shoulder.