by Shannon Hale
"Yes," she whispered, "yes, I understand. I burn, and you kill them."
"Not just if you attack, Enna. If they see a fire spreading from its pit, a tent aflame, any fire loose anywhere in the camp, their orders are that the first one goes. Tiedan will take no chances with you."
"It's not fair," she said through her scorched throat.
"It is the price. Any loose fire sighted and one dies."
Besides the guards who held Razo and Finn, others stood by, two with nocked arrows, two with naked daggers. She felt defeat as real as if she had been beaten and bruised with it.
"I understand," she said. The sting from holding heat too long, the night chill, and the effect of the drug all pressed and pained her, and she began to shake so badly that her teeth chattered.
"Come on," said Sileph, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.
Finn's forehead furrowed in anger or confusion, and Enna shrugged Sileph's arms away. Sileph glanced once at Finn and frowned.
"Back to the tent, girl," he said sternly.
She waited for the soldiers to march Razo and Finn away before she followed Sileph into her tent.
"It is for the best," he said.
"Whose best?"
He watched her as she sat and rested her head on her knees.
"Don't you want to know why I saved their lives?"
"What?" She glared up at him, daring him to make himself a hero now.
He shrugged and looked a little like a young boy hopeful and unsure of himself. "I told the guards that they broke into camp to try to rescue you. Tiedan would have them killed if he knew that they were assassins."
"Oh, stop with your Tiran rhetoric," said Enna. "Those soldiers aren't assassins."
Sileph seemed surprised. "I meant . . . you know they came to kill you."
Enna opened her mouth to protest, but the words dried in her throat.
"They came as assassins, Enna, so that Tira could not have you in its power. There was a third boy who threatened as much before my men killed him."
"No," she said, her voice a little higher, "they came to save me. I don't know who the other one was, but Razo and Finn would try to rescue me."
"Three people? Bayern sent three boys to pull you out of Tira's war camp and expected success? Didn't you notice how they looked?"
"Bruised, gagged," she said defiantly. He waited for more. "And sad. They were trying to tell me they were sorry."
"Sorry that they failed you? Or sorry that they had betrayed you?"
Enna started to answer, but her throat constricted, and she felt her lip tremble. It was ridiculous what he claimed, but she saw in memory their sad eyes, their worried brows. And who had been the third boy?
Sileph sat beside her. "I don't want to talk at you and convince you that they meant ill. I thought you would have known the truth. But if Tiedan and the rest believe that they came to rescue you, then we can use the boys as hostages. What I'm saying is, it would be wise if you pretended to care about those boys."
Enna met his eyes. "I do care. I . . . "
Sileph shook his head, and his jaw set in anger. "Those bastards. Sending friends to kill you, or worse, sending your friends to be captured and killed before you, and leave you knowing that no other rescue will come." He rubbed his jaw whiskers hard, keeping his gaze on her. "They must not value you at all, or you would not have come alone in the first place and would not now be subject to such a pathetic rescue."
Enna stared at him. Her wet eyes began to blur his image, and she could no longer make out his face. Pathetic. Assassins.
"Get out," she said,
"Enna ..."
Enna stood and punched him in the jaw as hard as she could.
"Get out," she said. He did not move, so she swung again. He caught her arms by the wrists, his eyes flashing anger.
"Don't hit me," he said slowly, his jaw clenched. Enna's eyes widened, and she felt afraid of him for the first time. His grip on her wrists tightened, as if testing her strength; then he tossed her to the ground and left the tent.
Enna was alone for two days. The last of the king's-tongue seeped out of her body, leaving her muscles feeling thin and raw but workable. Her mind gradually became her own again. And as she felt heat once more and stuffed tiny bits into her extremities, she found that she was not cold for the first time in many days.
Alone, she paced in circles in her tent, waved her arms around, and tried to awaken and strengthen her ill-used body. When an opportunity came, she did not want weakness to prevent her from fighting or fleeing. But for two days the guards brought only water, and soon she huddled on the ground, wrestling down the pains of hunger, the renewed desire to set fire, and the fear that Razo and Finn had sworn her death.
Inside, deeper than the hollow spot in her chest, she did not believe they could be assassins. But Sileph's words still buzzed in her head, and she could not be sure. Regardless, she could not let her friends be killed. She would not burn.
On the third day, when the yellow shade of the tent walls told her it was midafternoon, Sileph returned. He put a hot loaf of bread and a slab of cheese before her without a word and turned to go. He stopped, one hand on the tent flap as if reconsidering, then turned and sat cross-legged before her.
"Eat," he said.
She met his eyes with a glare that would speak for two days without food and the capture and beating of her friends. The lines of his face relaxed.
"We were both angry," he said. "I'm sorry."
He looked at her, and though she was prepared to refuse his apology, instead she found herself momentarily breathless. She had not really seen him, not in all those king's-tongue hazy days. His pale brown hair was tied back, exposing the angular shape of his face, the sharp line of his jaw, his dark brown eyes. Just now, there were tired lines around his eyes that made him look heartbroken.
"Go on," he said, and she gratefully looked away from him to her meal. The food was welcome, though not quite enough to keep her from wanting more. She brushed the crumbs from her fingers, readied herself, then raised her eyes to Sileph's again.
"You're a fool," she said.
Sileph nodded. "Don't say it took you two days to realize this."
Enna nearly smiled. Sileph was thoughtful for a few moments; then he closed his eyes as though shutting something out.
"Enna, from all you have told me, I assumed that Bayern had or would abandon you, and that those boys' clumsy assassination attempt"—Enna started to protest, and Sileph held up his hand and continued—"or rescue was just the final proof. But I understand now that you still had hopes of returning to Bayern. I was thoughtless. I know how I would feel were I betrayed by Tira, and I am sorry."
Sileph stood, pacing in the small space. "It makes me angry. How can they be so blind? If you were mine, I would not let you go so easily."
"Wouldn't you?" she said with some contempt.
He answered simply. "They are fools. They don't deserve you. To not only cast you off, but also to make so little attempt to bring you back? Huh. I'm not surprised, I suppose, when I think of that mousy little queen."
Enna winced. When Sileph spoke disparagingly of Isi, it was a temptation to agree and allow the persistent, pinching guilt to ease. But her heart would not allow it.
"Don't," said Enna. "Just don't. You don't know her."
Sileph nodded once. He knelt beside her and took her hands.
"Nevertheless, if they do not want you, we do. Tiedan has given me orders. You and I are riding out today—on a mission. If it goes well, things will change for you here."
"What do you expect me to do, forsake Bayern?"
"Haven't they already forsaken you?"
"Captain," came a voice from outside the tent.
Sileph let her hands go and stood. His face was smooth, and his voice regained its public hardness. "Come in, Pol."
Pol entered. She had seen him several times in her weeks there, but he never looked at her. None of the soldiers did, save Sileph.
"Horses are ready, sir."
Pol handed him a bag and departed, and Sileph dropped it at Enna's knees. Inside was a lady's riding dress, deep brown and cut in the Tiran style with fitted wrists and waist. Also leggings, a wool hat and mitts, a jacket, new boots, and a filled water bottle with a long neck like the one Razo had filched for their costumed expeditions.
"Get dressed. We go when you are ready," he said, leaving her alone.
Enna dressed quickly, feeling not only cold in those brief moments after she had flung off her worn Bayern clothes, but also vulnerable, vivid memories of the hard-fingered soldier leering before her, her only defense a thin wool blanket. She kept her old skirt on under the dress—they might think she wore layers for warmth.
When she emerged from the tent, she felt strange, the hat wonderfully warm but unfamiliar, the dress touching her in different places from her Bayern skirt and tunic. She felt as though she were no longer a prisoner but had shed herself and become Tiran. A thought scratched briefly against her good feelings: that's how he wants you to feel.
It was a relief to be dressed so. As she walked through the camp with Sileph and several other Tiran soldiers, she felt like one of them instead of trapped by them. She knew it was an illusion, but at least it lessened her feelings of vulnerability. Then they arrived at the horses. Ten soldiers were already mounted. One on a large horse held another on the saddle before him. It was Razo, gagged, his hands bound.
"Why?" she said.
"For our protection," said Sileph. "Whenever we go out, we will take one of your Bayern friends along." He helped her mount a horse, then hopped into the saddle behind her. He rested his head beside hers and whispered, "I trust you, but Tiedan does not."
Enna looked at Razo. The soldier had angled his horse so that she and Razo could not meet eyes, but she could see a bruise and an unbandaged cut on the side of his face. She thought, I'll see Tiedan burn.
"I can ride my own horse," she said, thinking fondly of Merry and hoping she got home safely. Home. Was Ostekin the mare's home? Was it hers?
One of the soldiers laughed at her request. "And let you gallop off to the Bayern? No luck."
Sileph laughed, too. She could feel his laugh muscles against her back. "Not yet, my lady. You will earn that right in time."
"And how'll I do that?"
He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulled her tighter against him, and kicked his horse into a canter.
They rode for a couple of hours, and as the winter sun descended and the horizon burned red, Enna felt more and more uneasy. Being kept in ignorance was as bad as being bound in ropes. She watched the gray ground slipping beneath them and caught a glint of metal in Sileph's boot. A knife.
"Slow down," said Sileph at last. The party came to a stop, and Enna looked around madly in the low, fiery light to see where they had come. Over the next rise was a farmhouse. Panic seized Enna as though by the throat. Why were they taking her to this remote place? Did they plan to torture her until she revealed how she controlled fire? Or would they make her watch as they tortured Razo? No, no, she would not let them.
She barely thought about her actions. Sileph dismounted and helped her down. She feigned weakness, wobbled over, and pulled the knife from his boot. In a swipe she brought it to his bare neck, her left hand holding the back of his head, clinging tight to let him know that if it came to a wrestle for the knife she would not let go until she had broken skin. His body stiffened, but he did not raise his hands to her knife hand.
"Let Razo go free," she said.
The soldiers drew their swords, and three strung and armed their bows. Enna moved slightly so Sileph was partway between her and the archers.
"Untie him, give him a horse, and let him go or I kill Sileph and burn the rest."
"Enna," said Sileph.
She gripped his neck tighter and let the blade press slightly. She stood on the balls of her feet to reach him, and her hands were already shaking. She wondered why he did not try to disarm her, but maybe it was the fire and not the knife that he feared.
"Why aren't you moving?" said Enna. "I said let him go."
"They won't move without my command, and I won't give it."
"Tell them," said Enna. She did not look at Sileph's face. Looking at him was like being on king's-tongue, and she needed to think clearly. Maybe they would obey her if she lit one of them on fire. Then again, maybe they would kill Razo.
Sileph swallowed against the pressure of the knife and spoke softly. "Enna, I said I won't. If you want to do this, you will have to try to kill us right now. You might get us all before the arrows hit you or Razo. But whether you live through this and escape or die trying, as soon as word reaches Eylbold, Finn will be executed."
She strained to make eye contact with Razo, but his rider still held him away so that she could not see his face.
"You don't have to do that. Just let Razo go. I'll stay with you, I promise, and you'll still have Finn to use over me."
"No." She was close enough to him to feel that word rumble in his chest. "My orders do not allow it. You must choose now if Finn lives or dies. And if you are going to kill me, Enna, you will have to slit my throat. I am too close to burn."
He put his arm around her waist and she jumped, pressing the knife a little harder.
"Easy, easy," he whispered. "I am just showing you that I won't let go until you kill me or put down the knife."
Enna looked at the faces of the soldiers in the dying orange light. They would kill Razo if they could, and they would kill Finn. She believed they would have killed her already if not for Sileph. She could see the blood thirst in their eyes, like her own fire thirst now, the heat from their bodies and the horses tickling the exposed skin of her face and neck.
It was hopeless, but she was reluctant to lose her momentary advantage, and she leaned away from their arrows and closer to Sileph. Her head touched his neck, and she looked at the dark intimation of his shaven beard, the hollow of his throat, a small white scar on his chin. He smelled as familiar as Forest pines, as her mother's soap, and she realized with a cold, achy thrill that she might be falling in love with him. And despite being a prisoner, despite Razo and Finn and king's-tongue and war and all, being there at that moment was in every way the fulfillment of all she had dreamed and longed for when feeling bored and unimportant on quiet Forest nights. She had a knife in her hand, fire aching in her chest, and a war captain by her side. Had she not wished to do things, to be involved in something bigger than herself, bigger than the Forest? Oh, mercy, Enna, she thought, you would be this absurd.
She grunted in defeat and threw the knife to the ground. Immediately the soldiers arranged themselves in formation, Razo in their center, all arrows pointing at her. Sileph waved them down and then laughed.
"Well, I am glad to get that taken care of." He wiped his neck and looked with delight at the smear of blood on his finger. "I was expecting something eventually, though I will admit that was a bit intense. What brought that on?"
Enna was not amused. Her anger was built, and there had been no release. And she was irritated at Sileph for tricking her into love.
"Why're we here, Captain?" she asked.
Sileph blinked once at hearing his title instead of his name. "I brought you here to burn."
Sileph signaled his soldiers, and most followed him on foot as he walked Enna toward the house. "There is something I can't get out of my mind, and that is the expression on your face when you were lighting fires outside Eylbold. It was pleasure. And relief. I know you must need to do it again, Enna."
She did not argue, not trusting herself to lie. Even the thought of it gnawed at her belly with excitement. "But why this house?"
"Tiedan's orders. It's an empty house, just to get you practicing again."
Enna's fingers tingled and her instinct shouted warning. But already the hollow place in her chest was expanding and heat gathered around her, expectant.
"No, I shouldn't," she sai
d.
Sileph removed her mitts and hat and loosened the neck of her jacket. The heat now had more skin to touch, and the temptation was rich and inviting. Why was she resisting, anyhow? She was not a prisoner out here. Finn and Razo would come to no harm from this fire. Isi was miles away. She pulled the ready heat inside her, converted it to the idea of fire, and sent it exploding into the roof.
Enna gasped as though she had been held underwater too long and just now could breathe. Flames clawed at the now dark sky. She could feel the heat of the soldiers behind her and used it to scorch the walls. She was tempted then to try the surrender Sileph had suggested and see just how far she could go, but she resisted, still cautious of Leifer's fate, still clinging to that last unbroken promise. And so, after a few rounds, her sense of the heat diminished, leaving her chest aching, tightened, and cold.
Then the door opened. Two figures fled the burning building, one of them beating at the flames licking his tunic. He fell to the ground, rolling away the fire. The other pulled out his sword in a defensive posture but quickly dropped it when he saw the number of soldiers gathered behind Enna. He fled behind the blazing house and emerged mounted. Before his horse took more than three strides toward Ostekin, a Tiran arrow thumped into his chest. He slumped over and tipped out of the saddle.
"No," said Enna. She swung around and faced Sileph. "You made me do this." She slapped his chest. "You made me attack my own people. How dare you?" She kept hitting him and cursing herself until he grabbed her arms and held her still.
"Stop it. Contain yourself, my lady." His grip tightened, and she stopped struggling. He met her gaze with his hard brown eyes. "This is Tiedan's work, not mine. How was I to know there were Bayern spies hiding inside. Did you?"
Enna froze, openmouthed. No, she had not known. Why not? Why had she not felt their heat emanating from the building? Perhaps, she admitted to herself, she had wanted so badly to burn again that she had not stopped and tried to sense them.
"Captain," said Pol. He pointed to where the first Bayern man had recovered from the fire and now ran to his companion's horse.