Freed by Flame and Storm

by Becky Allen

  I wish I had the power to fix this on my own. I know there is a way—I dream of it every night. I would do anything to see those dreams realized. But no mage can do great works alone, and if none of the Closest will risk another great work, then I fear we are lost for good.

  It was late by the time Elan had finished translating those scant few paragraphs. His back ached from hunching over and his eyes were blurry from staring too long. He stretched and glanced down again.

  He was as sure of the translation as he could be. He was growing more familiar with the script and its syntax now, but he had no way to be sure he was right. But if he was…

  This was a journal entry someone had saved from before the War. This whole collection seemed to be about Janna Eshara, so it probably came from her journal. He blinked, letting that settle into his mind. If that was so, then this single paper might be the journal entry where she had first conceived of the Well. It was definitely from before she’d gathered any allies to assist with it.

  And there was the Rise again, some kind of disaster. Now he understood a little more. The world before the Rise, whatever that was, had been a paradise, according to Janna. Then the mages had done…something, a great work—“great” meaning large, he realized, not brilliant or celebrated. The Rise had changed the world, turned fertile land dry. He couldn’t imagine a world with natural lakes and rivers; all he had ever known was the Well and its reservoirs and channels.

  The knife was connected to it, too. Jae would need to know that, though he doubted it would help. Not without more information.

  He sighed. He was starting to think that information—truth—was more important than water. The Highest had destroyed as much truth as they could and replaced it with lies the world now thought were history. Janna Eshara had once been revered and was now forgotten; and before she’d been revered, he was learning, she’d been frustrated and desperate.

  That reminded him of Jae. He wondered what people would think of her, generations from now. If they’d remember her name, or if she’d be lost to time, too, with a few people desperately trying to prove she’d been right.

  Jae hadn’t stirred and Lenni was out meeting with members of the Order. That made him think about information, too, in that Lenni seemed to have it all. He understood why she had to keep so many secrets, not sharing the name of her other mage, or telling anyone how to contact anyone else within the Order. It was dangerous for too many people to know too much. Someone might be caught, or might turn against them. That would be a disaster, if the person knew anything vital.

  He wished there was another way…but the only other way he could think of was to contact Erra. She must have seen the notices their father had been put out by now, but he couldn’t imagine she’d agreed to them. Elan had learned at Aredann that his father had been willing to slaughter every Closest on the estate. He wouldn’t think anything of killing a hundred more—even a hundred a day. Not if their deaths would give him power over Jae, a way to confront and kill her.

  But Erra wasn’t like their father. Yes, she took after him in a few ways—she could be calculating and manipulative when it suited her. But she wasn’t a liar the way their father was. If she knew the truth about the War and the Well and the Closest, she’d never stand for it. But just like Elan—just like everyone—she’d been lied to since birth.

  He had to find her and tell her the truth. If he could make her listen, she could help them. Maybe she could keep their father from following through on this threat. If Elthis didn’t harm any Closest, then Jae could keep her vow to be merciful. It was still possible.

  Elan understood why Lenni had dismissed the idea out of hand. But Lenni didn’t know Erra, and Elan did—and Lenni ran the Order, but it wasn’t as if Elan had taken any vows to her. The only person whose opinion he really cared about now was Jae’s.

  Jae trusted him. He could convince her. Then it was just a matter of convincing Erra, but he knew he could do that, too. Because he had one advantage his father never would—the truth.

  “Absolutely not,” Lenni said, squaring her shoulders.

  Elan mimicked her posture, though not intentionally, bracing himself for this fight. He’d known she wouldn’t like the idea—she’d already dismissed it once. But now he was willing to fight for it, if that was what it took. They were both on their feet in the back room of Osann’s warehouse. Jae had been asleep on the floor before Lenni had come in, but now she’d pushed up to stand, watching the two of them warily.

  “Erra can help us,” Elan said. “If I can arrange a meeting with her, she’ll come talk to me, and she’ll listen. Which is more than you’re doing.”

  “I’m not listening because you’re being an idiot,” Lenni said.

  Elan didn’t let himself respond to the insult, instead turning to Jae. “Once I tell Erra the truth about the Highest—”

  “No Highest is going to care about the truth,” Lenni interrupted. “If they did, they wouldn’t have continued lying. For centuries.”

  “I cared,” Elan said. “And I never knew the truth—I don’t think they tell anyone who doesn’t need to know. Their heirs, even, until they have to. Because Erra doesn’t know, I’m sure. Jae, I’m sure. Erra isn’t like my father, she actually cares about people. And having her on our side can only help.”

  Lenni didn’t look at all convinced, but she also turned to Jae, waiting. Jae was the one the Highest really wanted—the one who had the power to unseat them, to free the Closest. Her focus needed to be on breaking the Curse before the deadline, but this was important, too.

  At last, Jae said to Elan, “I don’t know Erra. I don’t trust any of the Highest. But I do trust you.”

  Jae’s trust was more precious than water in a drought, and knowing he’d earned it gave him a tiny thrill. “I’m sure of her.”

  “Then go,” Jae said, and stretched. “But I can’t go with you. I have to break the Curse.”

  “I’ll go, too,” Lenni said quickly. “For all the good this will do. You really shouldn’t be wandering around on your own, Lord Elan. You don’t exactly fit in, and if you’re recognized…”

  “Thank you,” he said, though he wasn’t exactly thrilled at the idea of Lenni following him around. But he’d gotten his way, and that was enough—he could handle her now. Plus, she wasn’t exactly wrong. Being recognized had been enough of a worry even before the vow ceremony. Now, people had seen him. They’d be looking for him. Especially in Danardae.

  “Be careful,” Jae said, as Elan pulled on his robe.

  “Stay here,” Lenni told Jae. “Osann knows what you’re working on—if there’s a problem, he’ll help you find a new safe house and get word to me so we can meet you.”

  Jae nodded, but she only glanced at Lenni. Instead, her gaze lingered on Elan, and he couldn’t quite bring himself to walk away from her. Not yet. “I will be careful,” he promised.

  She nodded again, and finally looked away. She didn’t say anything else, but then, she wasn’t one to waste words. So he didn’t, either. But he did pause in the doorway, trying to remember another Closest gesture. He knew the Closest signal for safety—the open-handed wave—and the gesture for caution—pulling fingers closed into a fist. Eye contact and a scant nod for a greeting, but for a parting…

  The gesture Jae had made as they’d left Aredann came back to him. A wave with her hand held low, by her waist, instead of up where it was obvious. Open-handed, like for safety, now meaning good luck. Closest did it without looking back, since they were usually in such a rush to obey orders, get their work done, afraid that anyone might see them take the time. He made that gesture and forced himself to leave quickly, hoping he’d done it right.

  He followed Lenni out into the early morning. Osann’s workshop was in the outskirts of Danardae, near the wall, a lengthy walk from where he needed to go, but in the right city. At least no one was out at this early hour. Even the drinkhouses were mostly closed and quiet, and he barely saw anyone else on the street.
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  “We’ll be safest if we stay near the channel,” Lenni said. “The whole bank is in total disarray. There’ll be fewer guards there.”

  “Good. We should follow it toward the reservoirs—into the city.”

  Lenni sighed. “Where you’re more likely to be recognized.”

  “Where I can get a message to Erra,” he said. “Which I can’t do without getting nearer to her.”

  He let Lenni lead the way toward the channel, as the large warehouses gave way to smaller buildings, almost none of them mage built. Soon they’d made their way into another neighborhood—this one still awake, or awake already. It was hard to tell the difference as people staggered in and out of the drinkhouses, across the streets. It wasn’t crowded yet, but the buildings were built so close together the alleys between them were practically nonexistent. It was a Twill neighborhood—a poor one.

  The mud underfoot and coating the walls showed there’d been flooding here, too. Judging by the water marks on the buildings, it had been over knee deep in some places. That had taken its toll—there were missing stones in plenty of the buildings, and as they drew nearer to the still-flooded channel, there were more and more piles of rubble in place of the houses. But the people were still there, dirty and too thin, their clothing in tatters.

  “They don’t have anywhere to go,” Elan realized, watching as a girl who couldn’t be any older than ten pulled a younger child to her side, trying to cover him with her own scanty, torn robe. He instinctively reached for his belt purse, but it wasn’t there—he’d left his things in the workshop with Jae, and he didn’t have much money to spare anyway. And there were so many people here, shivering among the overturned stones.

  “Their lives were hard enough before the flood,” Lenni said. “This is just…awful.”

  “They couldn’t always have been this poor,” Elan said.

  “They were. You wouldn’t have noticed them.” There was an edge of bitterness in her voice. They reached the last walkable street as she spoke, and began following it deeper into Danardae. “The stone city out here was already where people went when they had nowhere else to go.”

  Elan frowned a little. He’d known it was a slum but couldn’t imagine anything this bad. “At least they had shelter.”

  “Sure. But no food, and for so many years, no water.” She said it like a challenge, but he didn’t rise to it. Because she was right.

  Even though the channel was right there—they’d have been able to see it from their stone hovels—only the most daring or desperate Twill would have tried to steal even a mug’s worth of it. During the drought, water had been more precious than gold or money, and Avowed guards had patrolled constantly, driving off anyone who came too near, punishing anyone who dared try to steal any.

  Elan knew that, because, as his father’s Water Warden, he’d been responsible for overseeing the use and safety of all the water in the reservoirs. The penalty for dipping into the channel without permission or payment was ten lashes, and the payments had gotten steeper and steeper with time.

  He made himself take a good long look at the people they passed. He’d always hated carrying out people’s punishments as part of his job—he’d had guards handle it for him. Guilt gnawed at him as he realized how even the small act of letting someone else oversee that had separated him from these people. The poorest denizens of his city. The ones who’d needed help the most.

  Lenni froze, grabbing Elan’s arm so he’d wait with her. She let out a muttered curse and pulled him into a drinkhouse.

  “Guard?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Yes, but maybe it’s just as well. You can learn a lot by sitting and listening.”

  He did as she said, as she went to fetch them drinks—coffee, this time of the morning. Judging by the middling quality of their robes, Elan assumed the people who wandered in were Twill on their way to places like Osann’s warehouse, or who worked with the giant looms to produce fabric. Not artists, or even metalworkers—none of the Twill who were skilled enough to make a name for themselves, or much money. But these people were getting by, in a way the ones outside by the channel bank weren’t.

  “Spectacle’s tomorrow,” one said, digging into a bowl of grainy breakfast.

  “I’m going to watch it,” another replied. “See what happens.”

  “It’ll be nothing,” a third said, joining them.

  “Not nothing, no matter which way it goes,” the second said. “And I bet it doesn’t go well for Lord Elthis. I went down to the reservoirs, you know? Saw for myself—the land bridge is right there. She pulled it up out of the water. Right in front of them all. Not even the Highest can stand against that.”

  “The Highest can stand against anything,” the first said. “When the girl shows herself…”

  “She’ll show them up, just you wait,” the second said. “And I’ll be there cheering her on. It’s about time someone stood up to them.”

  “Don’t say that too loud,” the third cautioned.

  “The Highest have more to worry about than what I say—and I’ve got plenty to say.” The man’s voice took on a bitter edge. “All those years of drought and not a single mug went to help us—and now the water knocked down my sister’s house. There’s not room for her in my place, but where’s she going to go? Her, her kids, everyone—the Highest don’t care at all. I hope that girl knocks them on their asses.”

  Elan looked up, and Lenni caught his eye. “That’s how I built up the Order. I’d have talked to him,” she said softly, mostly into her coffee. “If I’d heard that, just a month or two ago. Asked if he wanted to talk to someone else who thought like he did.”

  “Are there really that many people who feel this way?” Elan asked, but he already knew the answer before Lenni nodded. Yes, there were—and the ones who’d joined with Lenni were only the ones who were so angry they were willing to act, not scared by the Highest’s might. There were probably plenty more who agreed with Lenni and her Order but were too afraid to join.

  For these people, the Closest probably didn’t even matter. They wouldn’t care about freeing the Closest at all. They had concerns of their own, which the Highest had never addressed—which even Elan had never even been aware of. Their outrage was like gathering clouds, looming larger and larger as a storm built. He wondered, if Jae hadn’t come along, if the clouds would have burst anyway. What that storm would have looked like.

  But Jae was going to confront the Highest. On behalf of the Closest, yes—but it would affect these people, too.

  “We should go before it gets later,” Elan said. “There’ll only be more guards out.”

  “And where precisely are we going?” Lenni said. “You can’t just walk up to the estate house.”

  “No, but…” He followed her back onto the street, which was only getting busier as the sun climbed higher. “Her lover’s shop. Andra won’t turn us in, and she’ll be able to get Erra a message.”

  “That’s not a good idea,” Lenni said quickly, emphatic.

  “You don’t think any of this is a good idea.”

  “Because it’s pointless, even if…” Lenni trailed off, making an irritated noise in the back of her throat. “But what if that shop is watched?”

  “Why would it be?” Elan asked. “No one thinks I’d try to contact Erra. Not after the vow ceremony.”

  “Yet here we are.” Lenni shook her head. “Let’s try somewhere else—a different shop, one less obvious. Where does she buy her dresses?”

  “She has stewards handle that for her. She only goes to the jeweler because, well, it’s Andra,” Elan said. “There’s no one better to talk to.”

  “There must be—”

  “There’s not. Why are you so set against this?” Elan asked. He peered at Lenni, but she just kept walking.

  “Because, as I said, it’s pointless and dangerous. And I don’t want to see your Andra. It’s not a good idea.”

  But the more she protested, the more Elan wondered why. Her
voice had gone from determined to desperate, and soon he was the one leading the way while she lagged behind. He was half-tempted to leave her entirely, slip into the crowd and lose her, but she knew where he was going. Besides, he’d promised Jae he’d be careful, and an extra set of eyes was a good idea.

  She tried one last time as they crossed into the brighter, cleaner area of town where the upscale Twill shops were. “I’m sure I can get someone into the estate house to leave her a message—”

  “This is definitely less risky than that,” he said. Besides, after the long trek, they were nearly there. He turned onto the familiar square and made his way to Andra’s shop. She wasn’t out this early, but she lived in the same building where she worked. If she wasn’t at Danardae, then…

  He ducked into the alley and knocked on her door. Lenni’s gaze cut around, taking in everyone who was near enough to see them, and Elan’s heartbeat sped up a little. Andra would recognize him, she’d help him, he was sure of it. Because if she didn’t, he and Lenni were about to be in trouble—

  The door opened, and Andra stared out at them. Her eyes widened and she hissed, “Inside, quick, quick! What are you doing here?”

  But she wasn’t talking to Elan. She was talking to Lenni. Who shut the door firmly behind them. “Elan has a very foolish idea.”

  “It’s not foolish,” Elan said. “How do you two…how do you know each other?”

  They exchanged glances, and finally Lenni said, “That’s why I didn’t want you to come here. Because the fewer people who know the truth, the better. Andra is one of my spies.”

  Elan stared. Andra wouldn’t meet his eyes, and she turned away entirely after a moment. It didn’t make sense. Andra had been with Erra for years. “You…but…was it always a lie? You and Erra—”