The Purifying Fire: A Planeswalker Novel

by Laura Resnick

  He took the arrow with a nod, his talented young fingers comfortably handling the burning head as he prepared to shoot. Brannon raised the bow, drew back his arm, and aimed. After several steady breaths, he drew back a little further on the bow, his whole body taut with the strain, his gaze focused intently on his target. When he loosed the arrow, Chandra heard it sing through the air as it left the quivering bow behind. The small flame sailed through the night, landing at the edge of the base camp.

  There wasn’t enough light for her to see any figures in the distant camp. But she was able to see that the flaming arrow was lifted off the ground and its fire doused.

  “They’ve got it!” Brannon said. “Now what?”

  “Now we wait for a reply.”

  Chandra waited anxiously all the next day for a response to her message, but it didn’t arrive until the day after that. And then she understood why it had taken so long.

  She was playing with Brannon, trying to help relieve the natural restlessness of an adventurous boy now forbidden to go beyond the walls of the monastery. Brother Sergil came looking for her, to tell her she was wanted in Mother Luti’s workshop. Brannon followed her there, but waited outside the door, as instructed.

  When she entered the workshop, Mother Luti said to her, “Chandra, you have a visitor.”

  Her stunned gaze was already fixed on him. “Gideon?”

  He nodded to her in silent greeting.

  Gideon looked considerably better than he had the last time she’d seen him. His thick black hair was neatly braided down his back, and his face was clean-shaven and free of bruises. His pale brown tunic and leggings were clean and tidy, and he looked healthy and alert. The healing magic of the Order was obviously effective.

  He did not have his sural with him; as a member of the Order, he would not have been admitted to the monastery while carrying a weapon.

  And Chandra, though surprised to see him, specifically, wasn’t at all surprised that he had agreed to come here alone and unarmed, even after a pyromancer had killed one of his colleagues at the gate the other day. She knew by now that Gideon did what others wouldn’t or couldn’t do.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “Walbert accepts your terms,” he said. “I’ve come to take you into custody.”

  “Terms?” Luti repeated, looking quizzically at Chandra.

  “He accepts?” When Gideon nodded, Chandra took a deep breath. “Good. I’m glad.”

  “What terms?” Luti asked.

  “I’m turning myself in,” Chandra told her. “Once I am in custody, Walbert will withdraw his forces from the mountain.” She looked at Gideon. “Will he keep his word?”

  “Yes.”

  She nodded, believing him—his promise confirmed what she expected of Walbert from what others had said of the man. Then she said to Mother Luti, “There are no other conditions. The Keralians will not be expected to abide by any terms or rules.”

  “Chandra,” Luti said with concern, “are you sure this is what you want to do?”

  “I’m sure.” She looked at Gideon. “And I’m ready to leave.”

  “No!” Brannon burst into the workshop. “You can’t go!”

  Chandra turned around to look at the boy. She should have realized he would eavesdrop. “I have to go,” she said to him. “Mother Luti will explain it to you.”

  “Something bad will happen to you there,” Brannon said with certainty.

  “Maybe,” she said, “but I have to go.”

  “I’m coming with you!”

  “No.” She shook her head.

  “But you promised! You said that the next time you left, I could come with you.”

  “I did not promise,” she said firmly. “Anyway, I feel certain that you’d be very unhappy in the Temple.”

  “Why?”

  “It doesn’t suit people like us,” Chandra said.

  The boy looked to Mother Luti for a second opinion, but it was Gideon who spoke. “Chandra’s right. You wouldn’t like it there.”

  “You won’t like it there, either,” Brannon said to Chandra.

  “No, but that doesn’t matter anymore,” Chandra said. “This is my choice, Brannon.”

  He looked angry and sad. “When are you coming back?”

  She didn’t answer, not knowing what to say.

  “Soon?” he prodded.

  “No,” she said truthfully. “I don’t think I’ll be coming back soon.”

  Chandra walked through the large front gate and beyond the monastery walls with Gideon at her side. When the gate closed behind them, she let out her breath in a rush.

  Her decision was made, accepted, and enacted. She had committed herself to her fate, however unpleasant—and perhaps short—it might be. The Keralians wouldn’t suffer or die the way others had indeed suffered and died because of her. She had prevented it from happening again.

  Mother Luti had dealt with Walbert at a distance for years, and she knew his reputation was good, though she disliked what he intended to see in the world. She would not have let Chandra leave if she suspected Walbert of treachery or dishonesty in this matter. And Gideon had said Walbert would keep his word, and Chandra believed him.

  Now she stood between the walls of the monastery and the mystical white barrier that had surrounded it for days. Beyond the barrier, a dozen armed soldiers awaited her.

  Not quite knowing how to proceed, she glanced at Gideon.

  He was looking straight ahead, wearing the impassive expression he relied on when he wanted to conceal things from others.

  “Gideon?” she prodded, wondering what to do.

  “Walbert asked me to come,” he said quietly, without looking at her, “because he wanted to send someone you couldn’t ambush. In case your offer wasn’t sincere.”

  “It is sincere,” she said.

  “I know.” Now he looked her at her. “Why?”

  She wasn’t going to answer. But then she glimpsed some of the concern that his cool expression masked, and she shrugged. “Ghosts, you might say.”

  “Ghosts?”

  “I can’t carry any more of them.”

  “I don’t understand,” he said.

  “No, I don’t suppose you do.”

  Gideon looked ahead again, his gaze on the translucent white barrier that separated them from the soldiers. “I didn’t come to help you get out of this.”

  “I didn’t think you had,” she said.

  “If you were counting on—”

  “I’m not.”

  “You’ve made your choice,” Gideon said firmly.

  “Yes. And now that I have …” She gestured to the white barrier that separated her and the monastery from the world. “I think it might create the wrong impression if I blasted a fiery hole in this thing. So how do I get through it?”

  “Just walk through it,” he said.

  “Just …”

  “You’ll be fine.”

  She shrugged again and walked forward. As soon as she entered the shimmering wall of white, she felt the binding weight of ice surrounding her. She took a breath, trying not to panic or let fire start glowing along her skin in defensive reaction … until the white barrier began collapsing and contracting, moving in on her from all directions with alarming rapidity.

  Startled, she called forth fire and tried to blow her way out of the smothering blanket of white that was enfolding her.

  “Don’t,” Gideon said calmly, approaching her as she struggled within the shrinking wall of light and power. “It won’t hurt you.”

  White magic was surrounding her, moving in on her, and covering her. It doused her fire as soon as she called flames to life. She tried again, and it happened again. Her hands, her hair, her arms all were smoking with her futile efforts to defend herself.

  A trap!

  The barrier was shrinking into a cloak that draped over every bit of Chandra’s body. She struggled against it in horror, trying to tear it off or punch a hole through it,
but it just kept folding in on her and shrinking. Then it started molding itself to her, following the contours of her body, the curve of her breast, the line of her thigh, and even the tapered shape of each individual finger.

  “Gideon?” She heard how breathless her voice was and realized she was panting.

  “It won’t hurt you,” he repeated. “It’s just to prevent … accidents.”

  The thing settled all over her body and finally stopped moving. It didn’t affect her vision, but she could see that it covered her entirely, like a second skin. It even covered her hair. The enchanted sheath didn’t hurt, tingle, or sting, and it didn’t impede her physical movement in any way. But another failed attempt to create fire revealed to her exactly what it was.

  “My very own portable prison,” she said grimly. Her power was trapped inside this close-fitting shell of magic, just as she was.

  “They thought it was for the best.” Gideon nodded toward a place further down the hill, where the white mages who had created and maintained the barrier around the monastery were still camped. “They were a little concerned about what you might do in Zinara.”

  “You didn’t do this to me?” she asked with a frown. “They did?”

  “Yes,” he said. “They’re afraid of you.”

  “And you’re not?” she challenged.

  He gave her a bland look.

  “But you knew about this,” she said with certainty. And he had told her to step into it.

  “Yes.” His eyes held hers. “I told you to leave Regatha. You should have listened.”

  Under other circumstances, Chandra would have found her entrance into Zinara interesting. It was an attractive city of tidy, pale stone buildings, spiraling towers, neatly-paved streets, and red-tiled roofs.

  However, as she rode through the city gates with her armed escort, she was uncomfortable with the attention that she immediately attracted. She seemed to be entering the city via a major commercial street, and it was a busy afternoon. As Chandra, Gideon, and the soldiers of the Order rode slowly through the crowded area, people stopped what they were doing to stare openly at her, point her out to others, and exchange speculations about her.

  She could tell from their puzzled expressions, as well as from the bits of conversation that she overheard, that nothing had been said about her beyond the walls of the temple. The common people staring and pointing at her seemed only to wonder who she was, and whether she was a dangerous prisoner or, instead, an important visitor. Either circumstance could have accounted for her impressive escort.

  Above all, people were curious about the way she glowed white all over. Because of this effect, she noticed, many of the people she was passing seemed to conclude that she was an important hieromancer. Some of them even bowed respectfully as she rode past them.

  It was amusing, but Chandra wasn’t in a mood to laugh about it.

  The soldiers and mages of the Order had begun packing up and preparing to withdraw from the mountain as soon as Chandra had been taken into custody. She saw them making preparations even as she left the monastery behind her and followed Gideon down the mountain. The long ride across the plains to Zinara had happened in silence. She wasn’t feeling talkative, and Gideon seemed preoccupied.

  It was late in the day now. Chandra was tense as she rode through the city and approached the Temple of Heliud, but it was a relief to get here at last. She was ready to find out what fate awaited her, and to get on with it. She had never been any good at waiting, and she’d been wondering what the outcome would be ever since making her decision two nights ago.

  Chandra assumed Walbert was going to execute her. Since he knew she was a planeswalker, he knew how easily she could escape imprisonment, after all. She couldn’t planeswalk at the moment, of course, not with this shimmering white shell entrapping her. But it would make no sense for Walbert to keep her power ensnared for many years to come, rather than simply eliminating her altogether. Even if he kept her imprisoned and guarded, the threat of mayhem or escape would always exist while she remained alive. Executing her was Walbert’s only sensible choice.

  In any event, she had achieved her goal. The Keralians were out of danger now and free of Walbert’s demands and interference. Chandra had gotten what she wanted, and she would pay the price for that, as she had promised in the message that she had sent flying through the night on a burning arrow.

  Her docile horse followed the mounted soldiers to the end of this busy street, around a corner, and into a large square. On the far side of the square sat a massive palace of marble with tall, thick, white pillars. Broad steps led up to a large set of carved doors. About twenty soldiers stood guard outside the building.

  “The Temple of Heliud,” she said. It was as impressive as the descriptions she had heard.

  “Yes.” It was the first time Gideon had spoken since they’d left Mount Keralia.

  “Oh, so you still have a tongue?” Chandra said. “I was beginning to wonder.”

  He didn’t react or respond.

  When they reached the other side of the broad plaza, they dismounted. Chandra stood at the foot of the broad steps and, for a long moment, gazed up at the massive white edifice where she was going to die.

  “Walbert is waiting,” Gideon said.

  She nodded and started ascending the steps. He made no attempt to take her elbow or touch her.

  When she reached the top of the steps and started crossing the wide marble landing, two soldiers moved to open one of the massive doors so she could enter the palace.

  She walked into an enormous hall of polished white marble with pale blue veins running through it. Beautiful tapestries hung on the walls, and elegantly carved stone benches sat along the outskirts of the hall at regular intervals. Two long staircases curved together to the balcony overhead. She looked up at it and saw a man looking down at her.

  “Walbert,” she said with certainty.

  He was exactly as Samir had described him: tall, slim, well-groomed, gray-haired, and about Luti’s age. His blue eyes were bright with interest, but chilly.

  His lean face broke into a sudden smile. Samir had said that even his smile was cold; but evidently something filled Walbert with unprecedented pleasure now, because his smile looked surprisingly warm.

  “Hello, Chandra. Welcome to the Temple of Heliud.”

  He gazed down at her for another moment.

  Then Walbert said pleasantly to Gideon, who stood beside her, “Let her refresh herself from the journey, then bring her to my study.”

  Walbert’s study was grander than Mother Luti’s workshop, which Chandra had expected, but it was nonetheless a workmanlike room, rather than a showplace. He had a large desk that was covered in parchments, scrolls, inkpots, and books. The walls were also lined with books. All of the furnishings in here were obviously chosen for durability and comfort, rather than just to look elegant.

  Chandra entered the room, followed by Gideon. Four soldiers, who had shown her to a private chamber where she had “refreshed” herself, remained in the corridor now, just outside Walbert’s door. The high priest of the Temple was sitting at his desk, signing a parchment that he handed to a young man, who nodded and left the room without speaking.

  As soon as the door closed behind the young man, leaving the three of them in privacy, Chandra said to Walbert, “Gideon says you’ll keep your word to withdraw your forces completely from Mount Keralia and leave the monastery alone from now on. Will you?”

  Walbert looked amused. “No wasting time, I see! I like that, Chandra.”

  “I don’t care what you like,” she said. “I want to know—”

  “Yes, I will keep my word.” His amusement vanished, and he looked serious and intent. “As long as you remain in my custody, then I will leave the Keralians alone to destroy themselves however they please.”

  She ignored the provocative comment. “Then I won’t try to escape execution.”

  “Execution?” He lifted his brows. “Oh, I’m not goi
ng to execute you, Chandra.”

  “What do you plan to do, then? Keep me like this the rest of my life?” She made a gesture that indicated the glowing second skin that imprisoned her.

  “No,” he said, “that’s just a temporary measure. After tonight, there’ll be no need for it.”

  She frowned. “Why? What’s going to happen tonight?”

  “Tonight, my visions will be fulfilled at long last.”

  “Visions?” Chandra repeated.

  “The visions I have had for years,” Walbert said, “when meditating in communion with the Purifying Fire.”

  Gideon’s head moved. It was a very small motion, but he had been so still until now, it caught Chandra’s attention. She glanced at him and saw that, although nothing showed in his expression, he was staring intently at Walbert now.

  Evidently Walbert had never mentioned the visions to him.

  “What are your visions about?” Chandra asked.

  “Mostly, Chandra, they’re about you.”

  “Me?” she blurted.

  Walbert smiled again, and his expression was warm and serene as he gazed at her, his enemy and prisoner. “For years I have believed you would come during my lifetime. For years, I have awaited you.”

  She glanced at Gideon. He kept his face under control, but she could tell from the redoubled intensity of the gaze still focused on Walbert that he was as stunned as she was.

  “You are the herald of the chaos that’s on the verge of overwhelming this plane,” Walbert said. “Your arrival on Regatha threatens to usher in an era of ungoverned madness here.”

  “I just came here to study and learn,” Chandra said. “Not to, er, herald and usher.”

  “I knew you would come, and you did,” Walbert said. “I knew you would return, with or without Gideon, and you did. I knew you wouldn’t leave again, even though you could have left—and, indeed, should have.” He nodded. “You are the one whom I have seen in my visions, and it’s your destiny to change everything here.”

  “No, it’s not,” she said firmly. “We each make our own destiny, and the only destiny I ever intended to have here—”