Voices of Blaze (Volume 5 of The Fireblade Array)

by H. O. Charles

  Stupid Medea! Why had she not realised her own fool weakness, instead of parading around as if she were the most powerful queen in all of

  Sennefhal? She should never have sent Kalad to those peace talks; doing so had only demonstrated how unsoundly she truly sat upon the Crystal Throne! At least if she had gone, her message to her people would have been consistent!

  She stopped writhing then. There was one weapon she still had to wield, though it would require rather more concentration than the others. Medea closed her eyes and

  reached for the current of power that coursed beneath the Blazes. As always, it fought her for control like an unbroken horse with anvils for hooves, but Medea persisted, and soon she had the energy that ran from The Crux under her control.

  But before she could wield it, the world went black.

  When colours came into view again, and evidently at the point she found herself awakening from her

  unconsciousness, she was hauled out ofthe glow ofthe palace and thrust onto the grass beneath a star-filled sky. Her hands were bound at her back and her legs tied together at the knees. Medea did not even bother to fight back this time. It would have been a pointless waste of energy, and she would probably be quenched soon, in any case.

  Blazes, was there any reason to struggle? Her rule had to have been the shortest ever in

  the history ofthe Jade’an family, and probably the shortest in Calidell. What a disappointment she would be to her parents, and to her beloved, dead brother. Even Kalad, for all of his disdain of royalty, would have been embarrassed by it. In her mind’s eye, something indistinct and shadowy shifted slightly.

  “Too easy,” boomed a very familiar voice, and it meant Koviere was one of her traitors. Blazes, even he had lost faith in

  her, and he had been with her family for two-hundred years!

  “I think she knows,” said another voice – this time a woman’s. It had to be Korali di Certa. Bloody, blazed and damned di Certas! Medea’s father had always told her never to trust them. Tallyn should have listened – light of– what if Korali had played a part in his death after all?

  “Let’s just gag her and get her out of here,” Koviere said as

  quietly as he was able.

  No! No Shade panther and traitor could be permitted to win here!

  Medea was duly trussed like a duck ready for roasting, and placed somewhat roughly over the front of a saddle. Her captor, who had hitherto remained silent, hopped onto the saddle behind her and kicked the horse into a canter. She tried twice more to wield Crux power to escape, but her captor seemed to

  know exactly what she was doing, and exactly how to break her concentration each time. After that, she tried three more times wield her way free with ordinary Blaze, but twice he unpicked her forms, and the third time he turned it into an enormous bolt of lightning that shattered the temporary defences of the East Gate. With the timbers still smouldering, they rode out ofthe city unchallenged.

  It was too late, Medea

  lamented. Too late to save herself, and too late to save Calidell.

  Onward they rode and into the moonlit forest, where owls still hooted and cicadas hissed, and there was barely a crunch from the dirt beneath the animal’s hooves. Once they were away from the road and too deep inside the woodland to be seen, the horse slowed to a walk and then stopped. Medea was offloaded onto the ground and

  her gag removed, and it was then that she remembered the friends she had here. While her captor hitched his mount to the tree, Medea closed her eyes and searched for all of the panthers that prowled close by. She found only two that were some distance away, but she called to them anyway.

  Hah! Try and unpick my beasts, idiot kanaala!

  The man soon finished tying bridles to tree branches, and

  afterward he approached to study Medea from a rather more intimate distance. It was too dark to see his eyes, or really to pick out any of his features that were not obscured by the mask he wore.

  “What is your plan, fool?” Medea asked him through her gag.

  The man tilted his head and tutted. There was something familiar... “That nightdress does not suit you. It should be made of thinner material, and be smaller,” he said in a Calbeni accent.

  Tallyn Hunter?! Tallyn?! “You!?”

  “Well, whom did you expect?”

  “I... what is the meaning of this!?”

  The Hunter removed his mask and grinned, though it was only his teeth that were really visible in the shadows. “You’re too stubborn to see sense, queeny. It’s not safe for you back

  there, so I’m taking you away for a while. Just a little while. You could do with the rest, and I think it would also help if you learned how to escape capture. Really, it was far too easy to take you, and you gave up much too soon. Your parents ought to have taught you better than that.”

  “No. I demand that you take me back. Now. I have things to do and my people need me.”

  “They’ll survive for a few weeks and your secretaries will

  keep everything in order. You’re mine until then.”

  A few weeks?! The country would have fallen to ruin by then! Medea struggled against her bonds. “Let me go!” She began to wield a fireball to let him know she was serious, but of course he trounced it in a splitsecond. Fry him and his follocking ancient abilities! This was why she never practised wielding with him; the man was infuriating to battle against!

  “No,” he said with a smile in his voice. “I have found a lovely little smuggler’s lodge for us to stay in. It looks out over the sea from the top of a cliff, and you can hear the ocean waves lapping the shore at night. It is beautiful.”

  “This is ridiculous. I cannot

  g-” Tallyn Hunter shook his head. “You do not have a choice. And if you cannot sit here quietly, we shall have to move on.” With

  that, he picked her up and threw

  her back onto the horse. For a moment, Medea considered ordering the panthers to tear him to shreds when they arrived, but she decided that perhaps he didn’t deserve quite that tough a punishment. Not even for rendering her unconscious, though she would have to make him pay for that one way or another. Perhaps she would go to this lodge with him for a day maybe even two. But no longer than that. The Queen of Calidell

  was not about to give up her responsibilities for a silly man.

  open suddenly. The moon had departed its frame in the window, but there were no signs that the sun would replace it soon. There were enough stars however, to shed just enough light into the chamber for him to see its contents clearly. He could see the curtains that hung from the posts about the bed, and the unmoving shadows in every corner of the room. He could see the armchairs, the rugs and the piles of clothing that lay upon them. Beyond were

  lamps and a glossy table and ceiling-high shelves, filled with hundreds of leather-bound books. They were coloured the same shade of grey by the poor illumination, but some ofthe spines were still legible.

  Amidst a thousand others on the shelves, his sight was drawn to one volume, larger than most of the others. “Chronicles,” it read, and he did not have to move closer to know what the rest of the title was. He had fallen in love with the woman in those pages, years before he had even met her. The Artemi of legend did not betray those she loved. She did not bring harm to them, no matter the cost of protecting them.

  And then his eyes fell to the shining knife that lay on the floor beside Dorinna’s clothing. It was no plain dagger for waving at enemies or for picking at meat or hurling at feast days. The metal of it shone blue, and the blade was

  decorated with writing. In House Kantari, House Jade’an sees fire and the future. Had his first father ever betrayed his mother?

  Somehow, Morghiad doubted that very much.

  He looked to the woman who now slept soundly in his arms. The warmth from her body was the only thing that kept him from shivering, but he feared things other than the cold far more if he let go of her now. The monsters had remain
ed silent

  throughout the encounter, and he was sure that they would have a storm of screams and words for him the moment he left the room. And he feared that Dorinna would wake, declare herself unsatisfied and make more demands of him. Perhaps she would decide not to sign the treaty at all.

  But right in that moment, at that time as he gazed in the darkness, he could hold to his hope that everything would work

  out for the better. He checked for Artemi’s stream again. Still missing.

  That hope continued to fragment as he studied the mass of wielder streams in the blackness of the ether, and piece by piece his hope faded to the tiniest pinprick of light in the darkness. It was now or never.

  He shifted his weight to slip one of his arms out from under Dorinna, but she mumbled something, and awoke before he

  could move any further.

  “Morghiad?” she said.

  He kept his voice low, perhaps out of some misguided belief that she would fall back to sleep from it. “I have to go now.”

  “Hmm.” She looked at him from beneath lazy eyelids. “I do not want this moment to end.”

  No. Please, no – don’t say it! “I must return to my son and make sure he is safe.” You have what you wanted from me, wench!

  She knows we rule now, said

  the multiplicitous whispers.

  Her eyes seemed to look upon him for an age, but eventually they lowered. “Go then. I shall see you tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow,” Morghiad said, and left the warmth ofthe bed to find his clothes. To his relief, there were no guards waiting for him beneath her window, and no secret team of soldiers ready to poison and capture him or drag him into a prison cell. Instead, he found himself walking the red-rug

  corridors ofthe Hirrahan palace as if nothing remarkable had happened at all.

  The monsters kept their silence for the most part too, though there was the occasional grumble or murmur from them as he approached corners he could not see around, or passed by areas that were not well illuminated. They were a paranoid bunch alright.

  “Morghiad!” exclaimed a familiar voice ahead behind him.

  “I am so glad I found you!”

  Blazes, what n

  His mood darkened when he turned to see a caramel-haired woman skipping toward him. Her manner had been childlike nearly forty years ago, and clearly nothing had changed about her. Morghiad supposed that her smiles and never-ending questions would have seemed a happy distraction for him when The Daisain had chosen her for the engagement. But he must

  have known that the wedding would never happen. Jurala had been nothing more than a tool for his plans, to be used and cast aside when she was no longer needed.

  “Good evening, Jurala.”

  “Betrothed,” she said with a smile and a nod, but dipped her head and covered her smile as a guard walked past.

  “We are not betrothed,” Morghiad replied once the guard was gone, “But I hope you are

  well?”

  She nodded eagerly, grey eyes sparkling and nose wrinkling with her smile.

  “Why are you here?” he asked.

  “Why, to see you of course. And talk of our times in the Cadran forests – those kisses we stole beneath the oak tree...”

  Morghiad sighed heavily. Fate hated him, or perhaps the Law-keepers in Achellon wanted to punish him repeatedly for

  stealing Artemi away from them. He was not sure which it was. “Then I’m afraid you’ve wasted yourjourney. I am married...” ... though he no longer deserved to be... “... and I do not wish to relive those years. My father tortured me and used you to keep me from running away or drowning myself in a lake. You were a good friend to me through that time, but nothing more. I’m sorry.” He sniffed, and realised he could still smell Dorinna’s scent

  on his clothes. Blazes, if anyone had come close to him...!

  “Oh,” was all Jurala said. Her innocent smile fell from her rosebud lips, her cheeks reddened and her eyes watered suddenly. She began sobbing quietly.

  What was he supposed to do with her? Comfort her? Leave her like this? Abruptly, Morghiad felt the eyes of someone else watching him. It could have been a guard, or a friend... or enemy.

  He could not take any chances with Mirel on the loose. Morghiad put his hand on his hilt, and spun rapidly to face them.

  Burn them, burn them, burn them! chanted the voices in his head.

  Instead, he saw that the woman before him was not Mirel, but Cass. What was wrong with these women that they had to travel in groups? But as the thought departed his mind, so followed the sound of footsteps

  running away from him. Jurala had fled amidst her floods of tears, and Morghiad could not help but feel relieved that she was no longer his problem to solve.

  “Can I help you?” he said to Cass. Her eyes were very blue, he thought as she drew near to him. Almost... ice blue. “Cass?”

  She did not reply. Instead, she continued to walk toward him, her ringlets bobbing and her rose-coloured dress swaying with

  the movement. Morghiad reached up for his sword in that moment, leapt forward and grabbed her by the throat. Her bright blue eyes bulged. He squeezed firmly, but something... something was not right.

  He tilted his head to try and work out what it was. He knew Mirel was irrevocably quenched, and that he would never feel fire from contact with her, but those eyes... there was genuine fear there. And the mask of Blaze –

  why could he not see the form that made it? Who would have been skilled enough to engineer it so perfectly to match Cass’ face?

  Killforfreedom. Killfor light. Kill to live, they sang.

  Morghiad let go of her neck slowly, and released his hand from the sword hilt.

  Cass was blinking fast, trying to swallow the air that was left in her throat. The woman was... terrified.

  Oh... Morghiad cursed

  loudly, and with words blue enough to have offended Silar. They only made Cass step back in deeper fear. “I – I’m sorry, Cass. I thought-”

  But she turned and ran from him before he could finish.

  Bloody blazed light! Morghiad growled in irritation and stamped back toward his rooms, but on the way, he encountered his son. Kalad was wearing a brand new, black silk coat with red embroidery up and

  down the sleeves. His beard was trimmed and the buckles on his boots shone brightly. He looked rather more like a kahr, Morghiad thought to himself.

  “You should be with Romarr or Dorlunh. Or better, both,” Morghiad said.

  “They had other business. I came looking for you.”

  “Oh,” was all Morghiad could say. Betrayer to his wife, and now a poor protector to his son. What else could he fail at

  this evening? “I need some sleep before the signatures take place.”

  In the event, he did succeed at sleeping, and when he awoke the next morning, he found Kalad up and already dressed in his finery. “You slept very deeply,” his son said with a grin.

  Morghiad sat up on the settee. He had, now that he thought about it, slept better that night than any since Artemi had left. That had nothing to do with Dorinna, he told himself.

  “Are you ready to see your son get married?” Kalad asked.

  “Yulia may be pretty, but you cannot judge her on looks alone...” Dorinna could have demonstrated that much. “– and to marry her...” Morghiad thrust his face into a bowl of water. It felt like ice on his skin, even though his eyes told him it was steaming.

  “I like her,” Kalad said firmly.

  Morghiad towelled offthe

  water. “Enough to love her?”

  “I’ll do it. It’s my responsibility. I owe Calidell that much. A marriage to a pretty girl is not a high price to pay.”

  “But Kal-”

  “My part of the bargain. I’ll marry her. I’ll find my happiness. Write it on your big piece of paper.”

  “Stubborn as your bloody mother.” Morghiad hissed a sigh. It was a great shame that Kalad had to be tied to one of
the

  daughters ofthe Hirrahan queen, and Morghiad would have much preferred a match with the High Priestess Parfal. At least she would have guaranteed him the protection of a whole temple-full of experienced wielders. Worse, what little Yulia had said during the talks had not impressed Morghiad in the slightest. “Father – I, ah, I wanted to say,” Kalad began, “I saw Cass running though the hallway yesterday, and I realised what

  you must have said to her. I’ve never seen... I didn’t believe that anyone could love a woman – my mother – so completely. I saw Silar and The Hunter, and even though they were soft on mother, it wasn’t the same. They loved her, but not the way you do. I just... I wanted to say that I admire your dedication to her.” He cleared his throat. “I misjudged you, and I hope that one day I will be able to know the sort of love that you do.”