Voices of Blaze (Volume 5 of The Fireblade Array)

by H. O. Charles

  Artemi regarded him from beneath her brows. “You have rocks like this in the waking world – perfectly square stones that are formed by the winds and seas?”

  “Of course. Why not?”

  She frowned. “It’s a cube, like a will-die piece. It’s too complex not to have been designed by someone.”

  Ravendasor chuckled loudly. “Designed objects are always the simplest. Square things happen in nature. Didn’t you know that?”

  She shook her head. This made no sense at all, though she really ought to have expected such curious beliefs among a people who did not know the beauty of the fires. Of course he would think his cube was a product of wind and ice when no one had taught him any better!

  “But this is the first lesson.” He placed his fingers on the top part ofthe cube. “Changing what someone sees requires a certain ability to design a scene, and

  unfortunately, our minds are only capable of painting relatively simplistic ones.”

  “This seems complex enough.”

  Ravendasor cocked his head and smiled thinly. “It has its faults, but you must learn how to replicate it. Imagine this rock as I would see it – visualise it from my point of view. The farther I stand from you, the easier you will find it.” He began to shuffle backwards along the beach. “Try it!”

  “Why are you trying to teach me this?!” she called back to him as he moved away.

  “Because you it’ll help you get home!”

  The mating bond had taken an age to complete, and she had closed her eyes and wished herself elsewhere while it lasted, but she was finally free of his foul, sweating body. Oslond had slid back to whatever dank cave he had crawled out of, leaving Celysane to the privacy of her chambers once more. She looked into the mirror, where a woman with a tear-streaked face and a torn dress stood, framed by the

  most ornate gilt filigree. No emotion would come to her at that moment, only cold, hard thoughts. First, she needed to wash. Second, she would write to her husband. And third, she would begin laying the foundation stones of her revenge.

  Celysane pulled one ofthe great water cauldrons down from its hooks above the fireplace and emptied it into her shining brass bath as fast as she could. The fire

  had remained unlit for two days and the water would be cold, but she hardly cared about that. The second cauldron was larger, and something of a struggle, but she succeeded in hefting it to the side ofthe bath. When there was enough water to soak in, Celysane tore off the tatters of her fine silk dress, threw it in the grate and stepped quietly into her bath. She wanted to scrub herself clean of that man as quickly as possible, but did not

  wish to wake her son with the noise.

  The scents of the honeyflower and spear-root in the soap did well to cover up the stench Oslond’s body had left on her, and she made sure to scrub every part of herself three times over. Once for his breath, twice for his touch, and three times for his bond. Celysane tried to remove any trace of his foetid seed from inside her, though she knew that doing so completely

  would be impossible. She thought of Rafhiad, and longed for the comfort his embrace would have brought her then. He had always been so kind to her; so very kind.

  I will not cry. I will not honour the bastard who did this to me with more tears!

  Celysane rinsed her skin clean one more time, clambered out ofthe bath and threw on her dressing gown. She paused as she approached her desk. Beyond it lay her two blood-covered

  daggers. How was it that he had not even felt them pierce his flesh?

  Celysane fetched a blanket and wrapped the blades up to clean later. She did not wish to touch any object that had come into contact with him more than she had to, and certainly not now. Taking up her quill, she set about writing.

  My Darling Rafhiad,

  I beg you, please do not

  be concerned about me. Something happened this night, and it is

  But she could not finish. The moment her husband read the letter, he would come riding to Cadra and her rescue, demanding that she and Silar return home to him immediately. As kind as Rafa was, he would never give her a choice in this; not if he believed there remained even the smallest chance that

  other men might take liberties with his wife. Worse still, Rafhiad would try to have his retribution against Oslond, and likely end up dead in the process. And if any of those things happened, Silar’s education would be cut short. He would not meet the people he needed to meet, or properly develop his singular talent, and risked losing his father too. Celysane could think of nothing she wanted more than to return to the Forllan estate at that

  moment, but for Silar it would have been a disaster.

  This would have to remain a secret.

  She took up the half-written letter, tossed it onto the remains of her dress in the fireplace and dug out the tinderbox. Within seconds, the pile was alight, and Celysane warmed her hands in front of it. She could see the old parchment Zandra had given her resting amongst the documents on her shelf, but she did not need that now. She had her own weapons for this, and she would have to plan - plan carefully.

  The light from the fire swelled suddenly, and Celysane found herself pacing in Lisearon’s offices. “Lissy, please –just one favour. That is all I ask. After all those years of dedicated service.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “I have paid you enough favours, girl. You were a poor investment for me. How many years did you spend with that... ah, I forget her

  name – Zindal, Zindar-”

  “Zandra.”

  “Ah, yes. That was it. You disappeared off to your school of cobwebs and... women and furry chalices and whatnot – gone for seven years or more, and then you give me only forty years of spying back for it!”

  Celysane was so close to telling him her reason for asking, but it could so easily have been used against her. If Lisearon ever did find out how she had worked against Acher, he would have had the power to end her, her parents and the rest ofthe Forllan family in half a heartbeat. “What do you want of me?” she asked, hating herself for it.

  “Complete the last errand I sent you on.”

  “My husband? But there’s nothing-”

  A thin smile spread across his lips as he said, “You know his deepest secrets, Celysane. Tell me them, and I shall help you in

  return.”

  She thumped her fist on his desk. “He has none! I told you. Everything with him is exactly what you see. Through and through.” And that was precisely why she had fallen in love with him. Celysane had found it unfathomable at first, but Rafhiad hid nothing and spoke only the truth. He simply did not believe in false pretences or saving face; he would have made the worst spy imaginable.

  “Then give me a copy of the Forllan Estate accounts covering the past two winters.”

  She shook her head. “Out of the question.”

  Lisearon shrugged. “Fine. You’ll receive no help from me! Dismissed.”

  Celysane made sure to scowl at him before she left. She was no longer a minion of his to be dismissed! It did not matter, she reassured herself. She knew enough people to bring Oslond

  down without Lisearon’s help. It would just take a little longer this way.

  The light from the wall lamp turned brilliant white suddenly, and Celysane was curled up in a tavern bed. She knew she would not be disturbed here for the next two days, and that Silar was safe in the care of House-Captain Berayn, but she also knew that those days would be difficult to explain away. She had told Berayn that she had special duties to attend to, which he understood to mean some very dedicated eavesdropping, but even he had raised his eyebrows at the length of time she would be leaving her youngest son for. It is important, she had reassured him, but the lie had burned her tongue the moment she had uttered it. Though she had told a hundred-thousand untruths in her lifetime, that one had felt the grubbiest ofthem all. Her guards were good men, and

  Berayn had trusted her too much to deserve deception. Celysane closed her eyes as the next pang of nal
ka came, glad to know that this represented the end of her detestable bond with Oslond.

  “I don’t care! I know she’s in there! The whore! Let me past!”

  “My lady, I—”

  The door opened, and in strode Lady Erali di Certa. “I knew it!” she declared. “I knew it the moment you put your dirty little toes on the threshold ofthat

  castle! You... harlot! Can’t even keep your legs closed for halfthe husbands in Calidell, can you?! And with your son in the next room. You are disgusting – as disgusting as your mother!” She threw one of Celysane’s damp towels to punctuate her point. “And I tell you this, whore, if you come near my husband again, I will kill you.”

  “I did not-” The pain that had hold of her bones was so powerful that she struggled to

  speak. “I didn’t seduce-”

  “Lies! I always knew you were a liar! All that blonde hair and pale eyes to make fools of men who believe in the pure spirits of Achellon! Hah! Well...” Erali wagged a long-nailed finger at Celysane. “...Lord Forllan won’t think you’re so pure when he hears ofthis. And trust me, everyone will hear of it!”

  “Please-” She swallowed against the throbbing ache. “For my son’s sake – he is innocent.”

  “Oh no,” Erali said, shaking her head. “You should have thought ofthat before you spread your legs and bedded my husband!” With that, she stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her and causing the entire building to shake on its foundations.

  Celysane scrambled to haul herself from the bed, but her muscles were no good to her. She was trapped here for the next two days, unable to do anything

  while her reputation was ruined, and her marriage, and everything else she had ever worked for. Oslond would be at exactly the same point of nalka as she was, and no doubt that was what had confirmed his wife’s suspicions. Celysane had probably been the only lady absent from the castle without a good reason for being so. But how had Erali known to find her here?

  Before she could think of a reasonable answer to her

  question, she slipped into unconsciousness.

  “Celysane,” a woman with a sharp nose and dark skin said. She was stood beside a taller, blonde one, who was next to a very peculiar-looking woman with a thousand lines in her face. They seemed familiar somehow.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “It does not matter,” the blonde one said. “What matters is that boy we have entrusted to your care.”

  Celysane took a step closer to them. There was nothing around her, she realised. No floor, no ceiling and no furniture. Just... light. “Boy you have entrusted?”

  “You call him Silar. It’s as good a name as any, I suppose,” the folded-face woman said.

  “My son? He was not given to me, he is-”

  “He has enough of your blood to look like you, child, but I assure you, we conjured him

  first.”

  Celysane gawped at them. “I carried him. He has my husband’s eyes! This is nons-”

  “He is still your son, Lady Forllan, but he is also ours.”

  Was this... was this Achellon? “But... how, why?”

  The dark-skinned woman spoke first. “The how is not for you to know, even if your fireless brain could understand it.” She shrugged. “It involves a lot of falling leaves if you must know.

  Anyway, as for the why...”

  “The why is the future of your little world of shadows, and ofthis one, and of all worlds: light and dark,” the tall woman said. “You have already noticed his talents. They will grow. It will take decades, but they will give him the most powerful insight into the futures of men and women that anyone has ever known. He will be able to see what no one else can see, and predict what is yet to come.”

  “He is the key to keeping us safe,” the wrinkled woman finished.

  Celysane finally nodded in understanding. “So that is it. You plan to take him from me before I ruin him.”

  “We plan to advise you,” the dark woman said. “You must not leave Cadra, and you must not cease your lessons with him. No matter the encumbrance, or the losses you face. His education is more important than any of

  your sufferings.”

  “His father will disown me if I do not tell him the truth – he may want Silar away from me, and ifI do tell him, we cannot stay in Cadra,” Celysane said.

  “That is your problem to solve, girl. The boy’s a gift. Off you go now.”

  The women disappeared into the white nothingness, and in an instant Celysane was standing before the door to her chambers.

  Berayn had thunderclouds in his dark eyes, and worse than that: hurt.

  “I must be with my son,” Celysane said to him.

  The House-Captain paused momentarily, appeared to decide that she should be admitted to her own rooms, and then had another change of heart. “Wait,” he said to her, and then to the other guard at the door, “Iryan, go and stand over there a moment.”

  Iryan obeyed, though the disgust he had for his mistress was plain in his eyes too.

  “My lady,” Berayn whispered, “If what I have heard... I can only think that it happened when you gave us leave, but... I find it hard to believe. Be honest with me – did he force you? It is the only thing that makes sense to me. If so, you must say, and we will right this wrong for you.”

  “He-” Oh, it would have been a beautiful thing to see

  Berayn tear Oslond’s gullet open and spit down his throat! To see him writhe and scream in terror...

  “Did he force you?” Berayn repeated.

  “No.” This was for Silar, she reminded herself. “No, I invited him to my chambers. It is not a mistake I shall be making again. Now, if you will excuse me, I must be with my son.”

  Berayn looked at her with such opprobrium then that she could have sworn his eyes burned two holes in her heart. But Celysane bore it, and soon she had her arms wrapped tightly around her youngest boy. “I’ve missed you,” she said when they finished hugging.

  “It’s only been two bloody days, mother,” he replied with a grin.

  Her mouth very nearly fell open, and she quite forgot that she ought to have been relieved he had not heard about her indiscretions. “I did not teach you to speak that way.”

  Silar shrugged. “Iryan and the other men say it all the time and the girls like them.”

  “Swearing will not make girls like you, Si.”

  He pulled a face, but it soon morphed into one of his charming smiles. “Is it time for one of my lessons again? I like my lessons with you.”

  She sighed. He knew exactly how to work her, and he was only ten years old. “Have you read

  those chapters in The Secret Way like I told you?”

  Silar shook his head, blond hair flopping across his blue eyes. His father’s eyes. “I read the first page and I knew what was going to happen, so I didn’t bother with the rest. It was really boring.”

  “If you knew what was going to happen, then you can tell me now. Whom did KahrTenerant ask to aid him in getting information about the orphanage?”

  “Master Bronzefinger,” Silar answered.

  “Good, and what did he tell the kahr?”

  Her son folded his arms as if annoyed. “They were selling the children as slaves and using the money to buy themselves more orphanages. Kahr Tenerant sent his spies to find all the people who had bought the children and then he punished the bad men and put new people in charge of the orphanages. The book left a

  part of the story out though. It should have said Kahr Tenerant took some of the money for himself afterward. But it didn’t.” Celysane was dumbfounded. There was no manner by which he could have found that story out from anyone else, since it had been written by her great uncle and she possessed the only copy still in existence. Berayn and his men never bothered with books; they could hardly read. What those

  women had said was right. Her son was truly gifted with something unique.

  The light that poured in from the window flare
d suddenly, and Celysane found herself seated before her desk. A letter lay before her, though already the words upon it were distorting beneath droplets of water.

  Ifear I have not been a good enough husband to you... Please return home to me... Though it cut

  me deeply to hear of it, I will forgive you the moment I hold you in my arms again... I have thought about what you said, and I agree it is best that Silar should stay with you no matter what. Even so, I hope with every beat of my heart that you will come back.

  Yours always,

  Rafa

  Celysane would have

  wanted nothing more at that moment than to return to him and explain that her love had never wavered for an instant. But for Silar... she looked across at the door to his chamber... but for Silar, she could not leave. The light grew bright again, and more time had passed – a great deal of time. Another letter lay before her on the desk, though it was more of a note.