Voices of Blaze

by H. O. Charles

  The giant nodded. “He was a little flustered, I suppose. But other than that, fine.”

  Medea chewed her lip as she thought. Something had certainly happened on his journey here. Blazes, a horse made of burning rock and smoke?! “Did he have any white in his hair?”

  Creases large enough to be called crevasses spread across the giant’s forehead. “I don’t remember seeing any. But it was night-time – perhaps I missed it.”

  There had to be something to point to what had happened – one piece of information that would help her identify exactly when and how he had cut a chunk out of the world’s energy.

  “Wait, he did ask…”

  “What?”

  Koviere’s frown deepened, if such a thing were possible. “He said something to Jarynd - about the wielder streams. Asked if they looked different. I recall Jarynd said that they did not.”

  Medea nodded slowly in recognition. The Hunter had confirmed as much to her several times on their journey back to the capital. She could not prevent her eyes from drifting to the man again as she thought of him, and promptly fought them to focus once more upon Koviere. “Did he say what it was that he had seen? What he had thought was different?”

  Koviere compressed his lips into a thin line. “No. He just said to tell you he was here, and that Tallyn Hunter should stay close. Then, I presume, he went to the cave.”

  Something had prompted him leave Kalad unprotected now that Mirel was loose – something that had made him feel their mother’s need was greater. Was she in danger? “Tal, have you seen any sign of my mother’s stream?”

  He blinked at her, and it was only then that she realised she had used her brother’s name. Burn it in the hottest infernos of the Blazes!

  “None yet,” he said in his Calbeni tones.

  She stood to gaze out of the tall window at the end of the room. The green silk of her dress was particularly elaborate, given that she was unlikely to leave the offices today, and heavy enough to make her strides more difficult. Really, she should not have asked the wardrobe mistress to have it tightened quite so much.

  Beyond the clear stone of the window, the city had returned to its previous thronging and bustling and noise of people. A large brick wall now filled the gaps in the city’s structure – high enough to prevent any miscreants from scaling it, but not yet broad enough to stop an army. With a peace treaty now signed, armies ought not to have worried Medea, but she could scarcely believe that no more battles would be fought in her lifetime. And yet, there was this business of advancing deserts to be dealt with. If the people became hungry, and if they began to fight for food, those walls would be useful indeed.

  Fires, would it ever be right to lock Calidellians out of their own capital city? Who would stop them from building another elsewhere?

  A shadow flitted through her thoughts again, and Medea reminded herself that the world would not come to that end. She would find a solution before then, and that solution had something to do with her father. “This goes back to The Crux. I know it. I felt the energy of it change. He must be linked to it somehow, but in a different manner to that of my mother, or even me. And she was not here this time, so their link was broken. We know the link they had is not necessary to facilitate whatever it is that he does. It’s as if…” She shook her head in confusion. “He could do this in his first life, so this could well have been a skill he was born with, or perhaps, when he met my mother the first time, an event happened.”

  She had already established that the balance of the world’s power had altered on the date of his conception, but that only tied him to the Blazes, and not The Crux. And it did not explain what had happened during his conception to make him an anomaly of Blaze. Of course, it was quite likely that the two were inextricably linked, but she had no evidence of that. Likely Hedinar Kantari and Queen Medea I had taken that particular secret to their respective graves.

  “He was a very serious child, I recall,” Koviere said. “Didn’t like being picked up much.”

  Medea turned rapidly. “You knew him in his first life – when he was a child? I thought he grew up with Acher.”

  “But of course – he was four when Acher took him. I was assigned to guard him almost from the moment he was born. And I did a fair job of it, until Acher and his men attacked. I failed him then – failed him terribly. Another bodyguard was on duty that day, but I should have gone...”

  “Was there ever anything… My mother was there then too, wasn’t she?”

  Koviere nodded. “Aye, she certainly was. Seems like a different life even to me. And she a different woman. If anyone had even suggested the idea of marriage to Tem Fireblade…” His eyes widened and he blew through his lips. “Did you know, she used to stick knives in the arms of men who called her pretty?”

  Medea arched an eyebrow. “Did she ever wield with my father when he was little, or-”

  “No, my queen. Morghiad was kept away from almost everywhere society went, and Artemi was there to guard Alliah, who was to be everywhere society was. I don’t think she crossed paths with him often, if at all. Blazes, Tem and I had to organize drinks in the bar days in advance just to see each other - when we were off-duty, you understand.”

  Medea could feel a growl building in her throat. This was like searching for a single blade of grass in a vast field of the stuff! Anything could have caused this! Perhaps it had been nothing to do with her mother at all - perhaps just being born in the gateway had caused it. “Do you remember his mother and father mentioning if there was anything unusual about his birth?”

  Koviere’s cheeks coloured then. “Ah, that’s private business.” He paused to take an extended breath. “I suppose I thought it was odd that Medea was still alive when they told me Morghiad was kanaala. No one else knew about the cave back then. Hed looked a little bit like he’d been to war and back, but he had just become a father for the second time, so that was probably to be expected. Queen Medea was in very good spirits, as I recall.”

  “So my mother and father never had any sort of contact through those years?”

  Koviere shrugged. “Not that I know of… oh, but there was…” His ice-blue eyes drifted away from her.

  “What? What?!”

  “Well, it wasn’t when he was born,” Koviere began, “It was… well, we were on a morning hunt in the woods – the queen, Hedinar and I - and I remember thinking it was unusual. I’d been the queen’s bodyguard for many years, so it was expected that I should come along, but Hedinar insisted that Artemi should come too. He was adamant about it, even having someone else replace her in watching over Alliah. He kept saying, ‘No, no. I want Tem to come with us.’ And of course Temi thought he’d gone mad and kept asking him what could be so important about shooting rabbits in the forest that she would be needed for. But she rode out with us anyway, and while we were enjoying the sunshine – that was a beautiful summer – while we were chatting away merrily about this and that, some lawless thugs showed up. Artemi and I went to sort them out, which did not take very long – but one of their horses shied and bolted during the fight, and it spooked the queen’s. She fell from it, and Hedinar lost his mind.”

  “He was shouting and yelling – mostly at me for not getting in the way of the horse, but also at Artemi to do some sort of wielding or other on his wife. He kept telling her to heal Medea, but of course it made no sense. Her bones would have healed by themselves within a few minutes – hours at most. Artemi did it – I think she was too shocked with Hed’s reaction to argue with him, which is something they often did. Anyway, while she was weaving some of her fiery magic, she blurted out that Queen Medea was pregnant. Hedinar told her to shut her mouth and never speak of it, and neither of us dared to afterward. Medea’s pregnancy was concealed for as many days as they could get away with it, and when things started becoming more obvious, well, she went into confinement.”

  “And Artemi had no more contact with my grandmother after that incident?” Medea asked.

 
; Koviere shook his great, square head. “While she was pregnant? Not that I know of.”

  “That is complicated wielding,” The Hunter said, making Medea jump when she realised how close he had moved to her. She had not even noticed he had left his post by the door. “Matching bones back together and then knitting the ends is no easy set of forms,” he continued, “If Artemi had been concentrating hard on that, who knows how many free sparks could have escaped from her wielding?”

  Medea chewed her lip in thought. It was possible that her mother had accidentally wielded Crux power during the healing, and if her grandmother had only just fallen pregnant, then that would match with the dates of the changes in the Blazes too. It appeared to make far more sense than her former hypothesis: that his abilities had been nothing more than an accident of stars aligning and powers surging. No, her mother’s Crux power had mixed inside her father as he grew, and perhaps that meant he could use it in a manner that destroyed Blaze.

  If the fires were the air, then the structures he might govern would be the walls of the room around it. And worse, he did not yet know how to control any of it. When she had been born, she had been able to wield as a baby, and this was really no different. Much of this was speculation, of course, but safety measures would have to be put in place.

  “My father is dangerous. We need to stop him from poking any more holes in the world before he learns how to manage what he has. And we need to find Silar to help us.”

  “How do we do either of those things?” The Hunter asked. “Silar hasn’t been seen or heard from in years, and Morghiad… well, he won’t like being caged, and convincing Tem it’s a good idea...” He began shaking his head. “If you really want to make the world safe, and if he really is that dangerous, you may have to kill him while you go looking for Silar.”

  Medea rounded on him. “I am not killing my own father!”

  Tallyn Hunter shrugged and began fiddling with one of his daggers. “He’ll understand, and it’ll give us a few years’ head start.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him and spoke through her teeth. “Suggest that again.”

  “You need to kill your father.”

  “That’s it!” she screamed at him, causing Koviere to twitch. “You are banished. Not just from this palace, but from this city. No, make it this country! And if I ever hear that you have brought harm to my father, I will never forgive you!”

  He blinked at her with his olive eyes. “Med-”

  “I am not Med to you. Get out of my sight. Now.”

  “But Mirel is-”

  “Mirel nothing! I have caged her once before, while you were lying on your back and staring at the clouds, as I recall. Do you think a little worm like you could stop her? Grade ten kanaala - too pathetic even to handle her power. You are useless to me. Leave!”

  Tallyn Hunter had no response to that, and instead he turned rapidly, and exited through the double doors.

  Koviere studied her a while, but decided it would be better not to say anything. A wise decision, Medea thought. Now, she had to concentrate on the business in hand, which would be a much easier task to complete in the absence of that fool man. He only cared for her because of her mother, anyway – that much had always been painfully obvious. Of course he wanted his rival dead at any opportunity! Even if Medea and Tallyn Hunter had been a power match, a relationship between them would never have lasted long.

  She turned the silver bracelet she wore about her wrist several times as she thought, and paused to look at it. Four polished claws prodded at her skin slightly, and an inestimable number of years of wear had scratched the most prominent areas of its surface. Her father had given it to her on the same day that he had released her power - the day before his last in that life – and she had barely removed it since.

  It had been her grandmother’s before, and most probably another Jade’an woman’s before that. It had some very old fire inside it rather than forms, and Medea was sure that it ought to have a purpose of some kind. But what would a guardian of a gate need with a bracelet? She already knew how to open the gate to Achellon, and these claws were far too blunt and soft to cut the stone in the cave. No, what if…?

  That was the answer.

  “Come with me, Koviere. We need to make the city safe.”

  She marched down to the cave as quickly as she was able in her ridiculously constrictive dress, cursing herself all the way for thinking that such a thing could ever make The Hunter love her, and soon she stood before the rocky door. “Turn around,” she instructed Koviere, “And wait.”

  “As you command,” he said sombrely.

  Medea put her hand against the door, watched as it swirled like the oceans she had swum in with The Hunter, and in an instant she was inside. Next, she removed her bracelet from her wrist, and waded into the deepest part of the water beneath the column of white light. Her dress was soaked through and probably ruined from it, but she hardly cared. Medea set the bracelet down in the water, and sloshed her way backward to see what would happen.

  At first, there was nothing – no change of light or extra ripples in the water, and then... then there was a rumble. It started softly at first, but soon it made the ground beneath her feet shake. The light flickered, and the water beneath it began to steam and hiss. Oh fires…

  There was a pop, and in a gnat’s breath the light was gone and the water turned to searing hot steam. Medea dove for the exit as the rumble continued, and landed on the cold rock beyond at Koviere’s feet. Dust covered both of them, but as soon as she put her hands to the ground to push herself up, the rumble ceased.

  “Blazes, what was that – ah, my queen?” the giant asked as he helped her to her feet.

  Medea reached out to touch the stone door to the gate, and nothing happened. It had worked. “The gate is closed. It should delay my father’s return while we search for Silar.” True enough, her father would probably find another way to return from The Crux, but every extra day or hour she had would be an advantage to her. Silar had to be out there; he had to know he was needed.

  Artemi’s eyes snapped open with an audible click. The light flooded into her head, but the ache that was precipitated by whatever foul liquids she had taken the previous night did not shift. Artemi was hungover. And naked. And in The Crux. Did these situations look for her, or was every one of them really of her own making?

  As she tried to piece together the events of the previous evening, she noticed Morghiad was dozing naked beside her. Oh… no. No!

  Artemi closed her eyes tightly, but already she could feel it. That same, familiar sensation was taking hold of her bones and informing her that her body was now loaned property. Now was not the time for this! Stupid, stupid, stupid Artemi!

  She dropped back onto the soft ground below and closed her eyes again. Perhaps this was a dream. Everything: the discussions with her husband, their separation and subsequent mistakes… She waited for the unreality to break and for her suspicions to disperse, but neither went. Instead, she was met by the sensation of someone hovering over her. Her eyes clicked open once more, and she found that Morghiad was the one doing the hovering.

  He frowned briefly. “Are you…?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh.”

  “I didn’t intend for this to happen,” she half hissed.

  “Well, nor did I.”

  Burn it! She was supposed to be returning home to save existing lives, not make new ones! How was a warrior to battle fierce foes and conquer enemies with children at her breast? And she had so wanted Morghiad to be clean of his monsters before they were handed on to yet another child!

  “It will be alright, Artemi.”

  “Alright? No more, I said! No more! This is not what I am supposed to do! Fires alight! After everything!” Fool woman! She began searching the area for her clothes, but of course they had gone. Such was the nature of The Crux.

  “You’re not supposed to do anything. I agree, the time is not perfect-”

  “You and
I still have too much to put right for this. A child will make it even harder for us.”

  “I know, but what else can we do?” His voice was calm, measured. Annoyingly so. Burn him for being so calm! “All of our children have been wonderful.”

  She frowned, hard. He had given her some very handsome babies – each of them... “You’ve been getting along with Kalad.”

  Morghiad nodded slowly. “He is willing to speak with me for more than a few seconds at a time. It is some progress.” He paused. “Kal doesn’t know about Dorin-”

  Dorin?! Dorin?! Why did he insist upon using her first name as if she were a friend? “He doesn’t need to.” Damn him! And burn him in the deepest depths of the fires for looking so handsome at her with his emerald eyes and impossibly well-cut jawline. Artemi took to her feet and started walking, but soon hesitated. “Wait, where are the Law-keepers? They should have stepped in by now. They would have tried to prevent this.”

  “They owed me a favour.”

  “What did you do?”

  He smiled and shrugged. “They are unhurt, Artemi. I promise you. But they won’t take you from me again.”

  “How did you-”

  “Just a bit of coherent argument. Kalad is an excellent tutor in it. All that you need to know is that we will never be parted by any other force. Be happy, Artemi. I did something right for you.”

  Of course he had. He would do that. Burn him, he had probably fallen to his stomach and begged them to show her more lenience, but was too ashamed to admit it. “In some ways you are too good for me, I think.” In some ways… And Kalad - married! What else had she missed during her time away?

  “No. It was the only way.” He embraced her gently and planted a kiss on her hair.

  Artemi enjoyed the moment, but her thoughts rapidly turned to more practical matters. At present, she had no nest to put this latest addition to her brood in, and no nurses or staff on hand as there had been before. Her duty was to the world, and she had to reassume that duty as soon as possible. There could be no opportunity for her to make the same mistakes as before.