Ginger slid down the ridge until it hid her from the figure. She knew this desert well, for she spent many hours here meditating to the Dragon-Sun. He never answered, unless Darz was his idea of a response. It would be a cruel one, bringing more pain than anything else, but then, a sun god had neither to be comprehensible or kind.
The color of her clothes and hair were similar to the desert; in the starlight, she hoped that made it difficult to see her. Moving as fast as she could manage in sand that slipped and poured under her feet, she climbed toward a notch between two dunes. Within moments, she reached the small pass and slid down its other side. She stopped, breathing heavily, her hand pressed to her side while she scanned the ridges above her. No figure showed against the starred sky. The night darkened the valleys between the dunes, but as far as she could see, no sign of movement showed down here. No sounds came, either, except the wind. She didn’t dare let herself feel safe, though. Not yet, not until she was home. Moving slowly to conserve her breath, she headed for the temple. She rounded another crest of sand—
Someone ripped the shawl from her shoulders.
The violent motion spun Ginger around, and she sprawled onto her stomach. Catching herself on her hands did no good; they sunk into the dune. She tried to cry out, but her mouth filled with sand. A hand shoved her down and someone lay on top of her, heavy and wide, covering her body.
“I saw you, whore.” His breath was suffocating, thick with the smell of wine. “Kissing him.”
She spit out the sand in her mouth. “Get off!” He didn’t sound like any of the miners. “Who are you, spying on me?”
“You offend the sanctity of your calling.” He was gripping her waist hard, and pain flared through her.
“That isn’t yours to decide,” she cried. “Stop touching me!”
He flipped her over and slapped her across the face. “You will not speak to me that way!”
Reeling from the blow, she clawed at his face with her opal. When he let go of her to protect himself, she grabbed a handful of sand and threw it into his eyes.
“Ai!” His yell flew across the desert.
Ginger twisted and toppled him sideways. They were on the slope of a dune, one steep enough that he fell hard and rolled down it, away from her. She scrambled to her feet and lunged into a run, slipping and scrabbling, staying below the crest so she wouldn’t be visible against the sky. Usually she loved the constantly shifting sands, but now she cursed them for dragging away her speed. She couldn’t tell if the stranger was following; the sand muffled footsteps. Except stranger was the wrong word. She knew his voice. She couldn’t place it, but he was from the village. Someone wanted reason to throw out Darz, and now he had plenty, not only against Darz, but against her as well.
It was only a fifteen-minute walk from home, but it had never seemed so long. When she reached the temple, gasping for air, no miners were outside; apparently they thought Tanner was with her. She ran inside, into the barest light from the dregs of a candle on the table. She raced to her rooms and found the cutlery where she had left it, in a wedge of goldwood by her cutting board. She grabbed the largest chopping knife and spun around, half expecting to see the bulky figure behind her.
The kitchen was empty.
Ginger gulped in air. Her heart was beating so hard she thought it would burst. Alert to every noise, she returned to the table in the main temple where she put out candles every night. She was clenching her opal so hard, it cut her skin. She opened her hand, ignoring the trickle of blood, and concentrated until a flame leapt from the gem. She used the spell of fire to light candles until the table blazed with golden light.
“Ginger?” Darz asked. “What happened?”
“Ah!” She snapped her hand closed and doused the spell, so only the candlelight remained. She retreated to the other side of the table, keeping it between them. “Don’t you sleep?”
“It’s all I’ve been doing.” He walked toward her, barely visible in the shadows.
“Stay back.”
He stopped about fifteen paces away, at the edge of her sphere of light. “I won’t trespass.”
“It’s a little late to decide that.” Her voice cracked. “Someone spied on us. He followed me into the desert.”
“Gods almighty! Are you all right?”
She laid her palm against her right cheek. It was already swelling. “I’ve been better.”
“He hurt you!” Darz started toward her. “I’ll kill—”
“Stop! Don’t you see? You can’t come near me. I can’t stay in the same building with you. But I don’t dare walk to the village. He might be out there. You can’t walk to the village, either. It’s too far.” Her voice was shaking. “Why would he attack me? If he wanted to discredit us, he needed only tell the Elder what he had seen.”
“Maybe he’s not from your village.”
“He is. I’m sure.”
“What did he say?”
Ashamed, she said, “He called me a whore.”
“Anyone who calls you that answers to me!” In a calmer tone, he added, “That does make his motives obvious, though.”
“It does?”
“To a man.”
She regarded him dourly. “Well, maybe you could make them obvious to this woman.”
“He saw me doing what he was forbidden to do. So he got angry. He probably wants to smash in my face.”
“But I told you to stop.” She felt dishonest saying it, because she hadn’t wanted him to stop. But if someone had been close enough to see them, he must have heard.
He spoke quietly. “I am deeply sorry, Priestess, that my inexcusable behavior caused this trouble for you.”
It was impossible to be angry when he spoke that way and looked so appealing, standing there in his sleep trousers and shirt, with hair falling into his eyes as if he were a boy instead of a formidable warrior. Of course, that was how she had landed in this mess, by finding him so appealing.
“He might be in here,” she said.
He gave an angry snort. “Where the hell are those miners who are always hulking around?”
It was a good question. “I thought Tanner followed me into the dunes. But I’m sure he wasn’t the one who hit me.”
He limped forward, keeping his hands at his sides with his palms out, as if to show he had no weapons. She wasn’t certain he even realized he was doing it; the gesture seemed automatic, the soldier seeking to make himself less imposing. But it wasn’t his military skills that threatened her.
Darz stopped at the other side of the table. “If you want to search the temple, we should each take a candle. Also, I could use one of those knives, if you have another.”
Ginger breathed out slowly. “I’ll get it.” She ran to her kitchen and grabbed another knife. When she returned to the main temple, Darz was waiting with two candles.
They searched the entire building, even the Sunset room, and they called for Tanner and Harjan. As before, with the scream and the blood, they found no trace of anyone. Ginger wanted to feel relieved, but she feared it meant the spy could hide so well, they couldn’t find him even with such a thorough attempt.
Eventually she and Darz sat on the ledge of the fountain, holding their candles, and stared at each other. He asked the question first. “What now?”
“Dawn is in a few hours. Then we can go to the village.” She wasn’t certain he could get that far, but she had no better ideas.
“And after that?”
“I don’t know.” She rubbed her eyes. “It depends if the person who hit me tonight says anything.”
“Why wouldn’t he?” Darz asked. “He has a lot to gain.”
“Gain what?” she asked angrily. “My humiliation?”
“Yes, actually. And my exile.” He lifted his hand to her cheek, then realized what he was doing and set his palm on the ledge. “It won’t help his case when people see that black eye he gave you.”
She probed her face and winced as pain shot through her cheek. “Un
less he says you did it.”
“I did it?” His voice rose. “I’d like to give him one.”
“Darz, don’t yell.”
“I’m not yelling,” he said loudly. But he did lower his voice. “I’m speaking with resolve.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “Do you think you could be a little less resolved?”
“Very well. I’ll try to speak better.”
“Actually, you speak very well.”
He squinted at her. “Why do you sound surprised?”
She gave him a look of apology. “I suppose I had some ill-conceived ideas about soldiers, that they trained with weapons and fists rather than their minds.”
He tapped his temple. “A fighter needs this if he is going to stay alive.”
“It’s more than that.” She searched for the right words. “You remind me of Elder Tajman. It’s your confidence, I think. He assumes people will follow his lead. So do you.”
“Why does that bother you?”
“It doesn’t fit my picture of soldiers, I guess. They are trained to obey, yes?”
“I’m just like everyone else. Nothing special.”
Softly she said, “I wouldn’t agree with you on either of those claims.”
His look gentled. “It only seems that way to you because I have some veneer from living in Quaaz.”
“You live in Quaaz?”
Darz swore under his breath. “When I’m not in Taza Qu.”
“You use far too many oaths,” she chided. “Especially inside the house of the Dragon-Sun.”
“I do believe you are trying to civilize me.” He sounded intrigued. “It’s a hopeless goal.”
Her face warmed with a smile. “Why didn’t you want me to know you live in Quaaz?”
It was a moment before he answered. Finally he said, “I command a company in the Queen’s Army. That doesn’t mean I’m particularly valuable, but some people might think so.”
“I knew it!” She beamed at him. “You didn’t seem the type to quietly take orders.”
“I have to take my orders like anyone else. I just happen to give a few, too.” He grinned at her. “Though I’ve heard it said I never do anything quietly.”
“I imagine not.” Her smile faded. “Surely you don’t think any of my people were involved with the attempt on your life.”
He stared at his reflection in the water and touched the healing gash on his face. “I don’t know why those men attacked me. Maybe they were bandits. But why go after someone who had just woken up and was carrying nothing of value?”
“They might not have realized that.”
“It’s possible.” He raised his gaze to her. “I don’t want anyone here to think I might have anything worth taking.”
“I don’t think anyone wants to steal from you.” With apology, she said, “They just want you to leave.” She wanted to add, Except me, but she couldn’t make that admission.
His face darkened. “Not until I stop whoever is tormenting you.”
“Darz, it’s a matter for my people to deal with.” Softly she said, “But thank you.”
“For what?” He made an incredulous noise. “Causing you this trouble because I was an unconscionable lout?”
“It’s not your fault someone tried to kill you.” She couldn’t respond to the rest. It hadn’t felt unconscionable, it had been delicious, but if anyone overheard her say such a thing, she would be in even more trouble.
Darz rubbed his eyes. “Even if we could risk walking to the village tonight, I doubt I could. I think I’m going to fall asleep sitting here.”
“Aye. I also.”
“You should sleep in the acolyte’s cell tonight,” he said. “It’s safer. It has no windows. I’ll sleep on the floor in front of its door.” He indicated her knife. “I don’t think you should keep that, either, not unless you know how to use it, and I don’t mean to chop food.”
Her grip tightened on the handle. “It’s a good defense.”
“It would be easy for someone to take it from you if you’re half asleep. You need training for weapons like that.”
“What makes you think I don’t have it?”
“Do you?”
After a moment, she said, “No.”
He regarded her intently. “Could you use it? Because if you can’t, what you’re really doing, by keeping it with you, is giving your attacker a weapon.”
She stared at the glinting knife. “I can’t imagine stabbing a person.” She met his gaze. “But I would defend myself.”
“Hide it under the mattress. Don’t pull it out unless you’re sure you can use it. That goes for any weapon.”
“I’ll remember.” She wished she could say more.
In the morning they would have to deal with the aftermath of this night.
7
Judgement
Ginger and Darz set off for the village at dawn, soon after the dragon breathed fire into the sky. Neither of them had slept much. Darz had dark circles under his eyes, and his limp was more pronounced. In the temple, he had moved with relative ease, but he hadn’t had to go far. Now he remained silent, his energy focused on their trek. For once she was glad the wrap and her bare feet constrained her steps, for it gave her a reason to walk slowly without hurting his pride.
The village up ahead was a cluster of houses built from sunstone and a few larger buildings with onion domes in the center. Several miners were hiking up the ridges north of town, toward the rock fields where they dug for ores. They had almost exhausted the surface veins and were digging shafts, but they needed a better way to excavate.
This last spring, Ginger had found an old scroll with a fanciful tale. It described how a man named Charles Carter had stumbled into Sky Flames, not from the west where most of the country lay, but from the east, across the killing deserts where no one lived. He must have been strong indeed, for he had survived the journey from the eastern coast. The scroll was less clear on where he came from before that, just that he had been shipwrecked. He didn’t know how he ended up here; he claimed their small continent couldn’t exist.
The man stayed the rest of his life in Sky Flames. On occasion, he traveled west through the settled lands and beyond the Misted Cliffs to the Blue Ocean. There, he would find a ship to take him home. According to the tale, the ships always came back to the shore, though he and the crew swore they never turned around. It saddened Ginger to think of the seaman stranded in a place he didn’t believe existed.
She thought now of the scroll because of a substance Carter described. “Gunpowder.” It exploded. The priestess who had penned his story dutifully recorded the ingredients and procedures, but she wrote as if the powder were a figment of his imagination. Although Ginger didn’t see how it could work, either, she was studying it in the hopes of finding something useful. If it were more than a tale, it might help Harjan and his men dig mines. That would have to wait, though, until this turmoil settled.
“You’re quiet,” Darz said.
“I was thinking how people might react if word has spread about last night.” She had worn her opal on a chain around her wrist, and now she touched it for luck.
“If they mistreat you, they’ll have to deal with me.”
She couldn’t think of much that would make this worse than Darz threatening people. “I thank you for your support. But I don’t think you should. It could make it look even more as if we, well—” she reddened “—you know.”
“Your attacker may not have said anything.”
She slanted a glance at him. “Then everyone will believe you gave me this bruise.”
“For flaming sakes. I’ve barely been able to stand up. That’s the only reason they let me stay this long, right?” When she just looked at him, he grimaced. “All right, so they won’t believe me.” Then he said, “I have no coins or goods to trade for a horse.”
“I won’t let anyone strand you in the desert.” She wasn’t sure how she would stop them, but there had to be a way.
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“If you speak up for me,” he said, “won’t that make people suspicious, too?”
“It might.” Disheartened, she said, “No matter what we do, we have trouble.”
“I think so. People are staring at us.”
She saw what he meant. They had reached the edge of Sky Flames, where villagers were coming out of their small houses to tend gardens, look after goats or fetch water. Others stood in their doorways and watched as she and Darz followed a dusty lane between the huts.
“They don’t look antagonistic,” Darz said. “Curious, more.”
“It’s a good sign.” Ginger hoped she was right. If news had spread, surely she and Darz would be seeing more hostility.
As they went deeper into the village, the meandering lane became a street. They passed a girl herding a flock of tough-coated sheep, a hardy desert breed that could survive on far less water than their fluffier cousins in more hospitable climates. A gourd-tender walked by carrying his hoe, probably headed for the fields of gourds, corn, and beans, or the orange and lemon orchards. Crops never grew as large here as in wetter regions, but it was enough to feed Sky Flames.
People trickled into the streets: butchers, chicken-tenders, coppersmiths, merchants. Although she didn’t know most of them well, she recognized many faces and nodded to those who greeted her. Although no one challenged them, their gazes flicked to Darz, often with distrust and suspicion.
Ginger paused at an alley behind two rows of shops. “Here.”
“Is it far?” Darz’s usually robust voice sounded strained.
She felt like a cretin, pushing him to walk. “Not much farther.”
As they headed down the alley, memories rushed over her. These yellow-stone walls, the crack by a faded red door—it was so familiar. She had often hidden in that recessed doorway playing Seek-me. The crooked awning above it provided shade during the hottest hours of the day. Even the dusty ground, hard-packed and yellow with sand, seemed to welcome her.
The Fire Opal Page 7