Firewalk

by Anne Logston

  Brisi was waiting, cai already poured. The High Priestess smiled when Kayli bowed, then motioned her to sit beside her. Kayli sat, involuntary pride and regret warring in her mind. She’d always sat at Brisi’s feet as a novice.

  “I spoke with your father when he arrived,” the High Priestess said without preamble. “It pains me to lose you as a novice of the Order. Your gift is strong, very strong, but more importantly, your determination and your hunger to learn are great. It is rare to find both strengths to such a degree in our novices. You would have risen far within the temple. I had it in my mind to train you as my successor.”

  A fierce pain stabbed at Kayli’s heart. High Priestess Brisi was not given to praise of her novices, but the mere fact that she’d personally taken Kayli as a student had been a great honor. Kayli wanted to weep.

  “Nonetheless the marriage that your father has arranged is crucial to Bregond,” Brisi said calmly, “and service to our country is the only purpose of this Order and all within it. I have been asked to release you from your vows to the Order.”

  Kayli slid the temple ring from the middle finger of her left hand and held it out silently.

  Brisi smiled and took Kayli’s hand, folding her fingers back around the ring.

  “I have refused,” she said.

  Kayli was shocked to inner stillness. Her duty—but if the temple would not release her—she must—but—“Novice Kayli, discipline your thoughts,” Brisi said sternly. “You discredit your teachings.”

  Kayli took a deep breath and cleared her mind.

  “Forgive me, High Priestess,” she murmured. A slow, cautious hope began to glow in her heart.

  “You must leave us,” Brisi said plainly, crushing the frail hope. “You must marry the Heir to Agrond as your father has said. But most of our priests and priestesses leave the temple in time to serve Bregond as mages, and the Order does not release them. Therefore, Novice Kayli, I do not release you. In serving Bregond, you remain in service to the Order. You will continue your studies on your own, and I do not doubt you will be a credit to us as you are to your family and your country.”

  Once again, Kayli was shocked to silence. Novices never left the temple for any appreciable length of time unless they renounced their vows or were, as Kayli had expected to be, released from those vows. Even Initiates remained at the temple until their training was complete and they ascended to the rank of priest or priestess. How could she continue on her own without a teacher? How could she continue at all, un- Awakened?

  “Your eyes are scrolls written in a child’s simple words,” Brisi said gently. “Come with me.” She rose and led Kayli to a nearby table, where a large chest lay open.

  “Your novice journals have been wrapped for the journey,” Brisi told her. “After your Initiation, as you learned the greater rituals, you would have copied them from your teacher’s grimoire—mine—into a grimoire of your own, as I copied from my mentor before me. My grimoire is in this chest for you to copy as you learn. I trust you to gauge your own progress carefully and not too ambitiously. When you have completed your own training, return my grimoire to me. In the meantime I have the use of the temple originals.”

  Such a monumental gesture of trust awed Kayli.

  “I pray I will do justice to this honor,” Kayli said softly. “But my Awakening—”

  Brisi nodded.

  “I am loath to see you Initiated without passing your first firewalk,” she said, “but have no doubt that you would have succeeded. Kayli, do you know why we allow a novice to select the priest or priestess for his or her Awakening, even a new Initiate?”

  “No, High Priestess,” Kayli said, confused. Vayavara had told her that the fire magic in her own heart would seek and find the proper priest, but it was rumored among the novices that that was only dogma, that it was the Flame Itself and not the priest, who was merely Its vessel, who Awakened the Initiate. Bowing her head, Kayli repeated what she’d been told.

  “Both are right, and neither,” Brisi said gently. “The truth is that it is the Flame within you that Awakens you. Close contact with the mage-gift of another Awakens your own, together with the kindling of your sexual energies, as a spark from a fire may light a new flame. This is why all Dedicates to the temple drink the morning tea that calms and suppresses those energies, that they may not be Awakened before they have learned the techniques to harness their magic. High Lady Ianora of Agrond was a mage, and it is likely that her son bears at least a spark of the mage-gift; and by rumor he is at least a practiced lover,” Brisi added wryly. “It is likely that he can Awaken you.”

  Awakened by a stranger not of her choosing—somehow it seemed worse than marrying that same stranger and taking him to her bed. But even so, to continue her training!

  “You know the required preparations for Initiation,” Brisi continued. “I have packed the necessary herbs, potions, and ointments. Your father is sending with you your family’s midwife, Endra, who trained in one of the healing Orders herself, and a Bregondish priest as well, that whatever outlandish wedding ritual Agrond requires, you may also be properly blood-bound. If you begin your purification when you leave for Agrond, you should be ready for Awakening on your wedding night. If your Awakening takes several days, be patient. As Agrond will require an heir promptly, I doubt,” Brisi added wryly, “that your new husband will be less than attentive.”

  Kayli bowed her head.

  “I will remember what you have told me, High Priestess.”

  “Of that I have no doubt.” Brisi took two pouches from the chest. “This potion will increase fertility. Drink one sip morning and evening until you conceive, and mind you miss not a single dose, young one!”

  “Yes, High Priestess,” Kayli said obediently. She’d begin taking the potion that very night. The sooner she conceived, the fewer demands would be made on her. Perhaps if she conceived quickly, the toad would leave her to her studies until his heir was born. Jaenira had once confided to Kayli that her husband, Lord Alkap, hardly passed a word with her for weeks at a time.

  “The potion I give you, as is my duty to our people,” Brisi said quietly. “This I give as teacher to novice. It is a speaking crystal.”

  Kayli’s fingers shook as she drew the small, irregular crystal from the pouch. Speaking crystals were rare, created only by the most powerful magic. More man the value of the gift, however, the gesture of faith in her ability warmed Kayli’s heart. Speaking crystals could be used only by those whose gift had been Awakened.

  “You will require guidance long before you master fire-scrying, so use the crystal when you need my advice,” Brisi told her. “The ritual is detailed in my grimoire.” Her face softened just a little. “Perhaps you will feel less alone in a strange place.”

  Kayli tucked both pouches back into the chest. At last she raised her eyes daringly.

  “High Priestess,” she began slowly, “how have you done so much in the short time since my father arrived? Was this somehow known to you before?”

  “‘This’?” Brisi said gently. “The Flame has called you to a great destiny, young Kayli. Such a calling, in one form or another, was not unexpected. Do you think that because we live within walls that we close our eyes and ears as well? One does not learn, my student, by barring doors, but by opening them. Now, give me your thari.”

  Kayli obeyed The High Priestess held the dagger up to the lamp, examining blade and hilt minutely. At last she nodded and stepped back to Kayli, holding the hilt of the thari in born hands, blade outward. Kayli clasped the blade of the dagger between her palms, her eyes joined with Brisi’s. The blade grew warm, then hot between her palms, but she had held the unquenched steel in her hands when it glowed white-hot from the forge, and she did not wince now.

  “I judge this blade well forged,” the High Priestess intoned. “I gift this blade with the heart of fire and consecrate it to the Inner Flame. May it burn true and serve our people well and honorably. May the power of the Flame never fail to answer
its call.”

  “I accept this thari in the service of the Temple of Inner Flame,” Kayli responded. “May we burn as one in truth with the Flame. May I prove a worthy blade, well forged and strong in the service of the Flame and my people.”

  Brisi turned the dagger, handing it to Kayli hilt first.

  “You will need an edge on that blade,” the High Priestess said. She drew a small rectangle of stone from her pocket and handed it to Kayli. “Every mage who leaves this temple is given a whetstone cut from the blessed stone at the center of the temple. It is a bit premature to give you one, of course”—Brisi smiled—“but there you are. You will, of course, require a sharpened thari for your bloodbonding, as your Agrondish lordling will have none.”

  “Thank you, High Priestess,” Kayli whispered, slipping the stone into her pocket. She’d make a special pouch for it and prepare a small vial of blessed oil this very night.

  “Now go to your family, young one,” Brisi said firmly, “and do not rage so against the path the Flame has burned for you. It is a great calling.”

  Kayli bowed.

  “Thank you, High Priestess,” she whispered.

  Brisi smoothed one hand over Kayli’s hair.

  “Fare well, my student,” she said. “Call me when you have mastered the speaking stone, and remember that the Order is not a set of walls you may enter or leave; the Order is a temple to the Flame within yourself. As long as you feed that flame and keep it sacred, you will never leave us, or we you.” She touched Kayli’s cheek. “This blade, too, is well forged.”

  “I will remember,” Kayli said steadily. “Fare well, High Priestess.”

  When she walked from High Priestess Brisi’s quarters, she did not look back.

  ****

  “There. That’s the last of it” Endra smoothed the wedding dress before she shut the lid of the chest and locked it securely. “It is a beautiful gown.”

  It was. Kayli had been surprised at the rich, wine-red fabric, so thick and soft, when the seamstresses had begun fitting the gown. She’d never seen anything like it. The seamstresses had told her that Lord Randon had sent it as part of his bride-gift not long after his father had died, along with his reassurances that he intended to honor his father’s wishes in every way. To Kayli’s surprise, one of the gifts was a handsome hunting hawk and ornately carved ebony saddle perch. Lord Randon could hardly have known that before her Dedication, riding and hunting had been her favorite pastimes.

  Kayli was reassured by the hawk. So little was known about life in Agrond; Kayli had feared that it was one of the countries where women were kept like slaves and cosseted like sickly children.

  More surprising still was the message which had arrived with the bride-gift. Lord Randon had not known which of Elaasar’s daughters he was to marry, but he had addressed the message to his future bride and, judging by the atrocious Bregondish, clumsy script, and childish misspellings, penned it himself—apparently High Lord Terendal had not thought to pay merchants to teach his children the neighboring countries’ languages, as Elaasar had, in hope of future negotiations.

  With the greatest of respect and eagerness I await our meeting, he wrote. In concern for your safety while traveling, lam dispatching three handpicked companies of my personal guard and my brother, Terralt, to escort you from your home. I pray that you will not be dismayed by the abruptness of this marriage nor by my brother’s manner. I have never much prepared myself to be a husband or a High Lord, but please believe that I will do the best I can on both accounts. That you should not feel dishonored in any way, I have given up all intimate associations and promise that my future conduct will in no way cause you embarrassment. I beg that you forgive my plain speech, but I cannot count scribery among my skills...

  Kayli would have laughed at the clumsy missive were it not for the confusion and upheaval in her life of late. It sounded like something a small boy might write, not a message from such a courtly charmer as Randon was rumored to be. Still, it was kind of Lord Randon to write to her directly. The letter and the hawk warmed Kayli’s heart; it told her that she was being seen as more than simply the means to an alliance.

  It occurred to her that Lord Randon had been as little prepared for this marriage as she had herself. Likely he, too, had been certain Terralt would be named Heir. Likely he, too, had made plans of his own for his future. Like Kayli herself, he had no choice but to accept the path which had been laid for him and make the best of it. In that respect at least, they understood each other.

  Kayli had insisted on choosing gifts for her husband-to-be herself as well. From the stable she had selected a string of the Bregondish horses so coveted by outland merchants, and she was carving a longbow for Lord Randon. Whether he would have any use for it she could not know—likely he used the Agrondish horizontally mounted bows that shot small bolts instead of arrows—but Bregondish longbows brought good prices in trade to the south, and the very act of the meticulous carving comforted Kayli.

  Otherwise her time had been consumed by preparations for her departure, her parents’ instructions in the proper conduct of a High Lady, and the endless fittings of new clothing, as Kayli had discarded most of her secular clothing at her Dedication. High Lady Nerina had fretted that Bregondish garb might be deemed unsuitable in Agrond, but nothing was known of what Agrondish women wore, and the seamstresses were hard-pressed enough to finish sufficient garments of familiar design in the short time before Kayli must leave.

  Although Randon’s message encouraged her to bring whatever servants she liked, Kayli had thought to take only Endra. She’d grown unaccustomed to servants at the temple, where novices, Dedicates, and Initiates alike shared in every chore, and in the short time she’d been home, the fussing of the maids already annoyed her. Endra, who had tended Kayli and her sisters since birth, pronounced herself quite capable of taking care of her lady with no help needed, thank you very much, and Kayli had relievedly agreed.

  Her mother, however, had not.

  “One maid?” High Lady Nerina had scoffed gently. “Kayli, Endra is a treasure, but she is no trained lady’s maid, and as High Lady of Agrond, you’ll require a proper retinue. Lord Randon would simply bring in maids for you, and who knows what sort of girls you’d get then? Household spies, more than likely. I’ll put together a suitable retinue of sensible girls who can keep their heads in a new land. I’d have a groom ready, too, if I’d known you were taking the horses. I pray that your lord has a sensible groom who can keep his fingers from being bitten off until we can send someone.”

  High Lady Nerina glanced over at Kayli, who was staring blankly out the window.

  “Have you met Lord Terralt?” High Lady Nerina asked.

  Kayli shook her head absently. Terralt and his guards had arrived late last night in a great clamor of voices and hoof-beats, and Kayli had fled to her rooms, as if by locking out the envoys, she could lock out her fate.

  “I wondered why Lord Randon sent his brother, when Terralt so opposes the match,” High Lady Nerina mused. “Perhaps it’s only intended to absent Terralt from the capital for a time. But perhaps your lord is deeper in thought man we realize. You should have met Terralt when he arrived. It was impolite to shut yourself away up here, and unwise, too, to miss a chance to meet your enemy on your own ground, when he’s dirty and road-weary, too. Well, it’s too late now. They’re all waiting fix you downstairs. You have just enough time for a last good-bye with Kairi before you go, if you hurry.”

  Kayli dropped the last of her jewelry in her satchel and closed it, suddenly terrified. She almost bolted down the hall to Kauri’s room, pounding hard on the wood. Before Kairi could answer, she pulled the door open only to see Kairi herself standing there, one hand up as if to grasp the latch, an inquiring expression on her face.

  As always, Kairi was so completely everything Kayli wished to be—utterly calm, her dark brown eyes serene, her black hair neatly coiled at the nape of her neck with not one straggling strand out of place, not on
e wrinkle in her simple gray temple robe. Those dark brown eyes which had always seen through Kayli so clearly saw through her now. Warm fingers closed over her own, Kairi drawing her gently into the room, folding strong arms around her sister while Kayli wept in terror on her shoulder. She clutched Kairi hard, remembering that day four years ago when Kairi had told her that she had been chosen to become a Dedicate of the Order of Deep Waters.

  “You will soon be a Dedicate yourself,” Kairi had said kindly. “And you and I will plan our visits home together, just as we have always done. You will hardly see less of me than you do now.” And it had been true. But there was no such comfort to be had now.

  Kairi let her weep for a moment, then gently pushed her away, clasping Kayli’s forearms and shaking her gently.

  “Kayli,” Kairi said firmly. “You shame yourself and your teachings. You are the mistress of your emotions as you are of your magic, or you are the victim of them. Do you understand?”

  Kayli gulped in a deep breath and nodded, impatiently dashing tears from her eyes. Tears were useless, and fear worse than useless. She took another deep breath and forced her hands to stop trembling.

  “Why are you so frightened?” Kairi asked gently. “Are you afraid to leave your home? You left it for the temple. Do you fear your marriage, you who chose to walk in the heart of the fire?”

  “I fear,” Kayli said slowly, “that I am losing myself. I was born the fifth daughter of the High Lord and Lady of Bregond and I gave that up for life in the Order. I became a Dedicate of the Temple of Inner Flame. That was what I was, who I was. When that is gone, too, who am I?”

  “You are the Dedicate, and the High Lord and Lady’s fifth daughter,” Kairi said gently, “and one other who is both, and neither. I wish you had been longer at the temple, Kayli. What you would have learned is that no matter what others teach you, all that you will ever learn was already inside you from the beginning. When you learn to see that, there is no more fear, for whatever is outside yourself is so small compared to what is already inside. Within yourself, all things are possible. Can you understand?”