Freed by Flame and Storm

by Becky Allen

  “How could you let this happen?” Halann demanded as they walked. His voice was a hiss, not meant to be heard by the others, who were still too near, but his anger and anxiety were palpable.

  “I said, the Highest will handle this.”

  “Without the reservoirs—”

  “We’ll get the water back,” she said, trying not to let her jaw clench, forcing out words she knew might not be true. Halann was annoying at the best of times, and she didn’t want to deal with him right now when there was an actual crisis at hand.

  “Your father would never have let this happen,” he said.

  She stopped short and turned to glare at him. He retreated a few steps, handed Efenn off to one of their Avowed servants, then squared his shoulders and glared back at her.

  “The traitors who did this,” Erra said, overly enunciating, “also killed him. Do you think I will let this go unpunished? Do you think I will do nothing to protect my people—our children?”

  “As if you care about us at all,” he said.

  She wanted to lash out, unleash her fury on him. But her father would never have done that—he never fought with people in public. He always stayed calm as he destroyed them, ensuring that everyone would respect, even fear, the Highest. So she tried to make her expression as unreadable as his had always been.

  “Keeping the order, protecting the Well and its reservoirs, is my duty,” she said. “Do not question me.”

  She waited to see if he would, pressing his luck because they were married. If he did, she’d have to find a fitting way to silence him. He should have been her staunchest supporter, and she couldn’t afford to have him speak against her now.

  Maybe he realized that, remembered that her father was gone. Elthis’s approval didn’t matter anymore, only Erra’s, and if he wanted to maintain any of his influence after the Closest had been put down, he would have to get in line.

  He bowed his head, acquiescing. “Yes, Highest.”

  Good. She nodded at him and then started back toward the house, grabbing Avowed and dispatching them with orders as she went. The curfew would need to be enforced again, and more strictly; she wanted every guard they had out in the streets, keeping the peace. Her people would be scared and she couldn’t afford another riot. She couldn’t fight her own people and the Closest at once.

  “Erra?”

  Andra was hovering nearby as they finally reached her private study. Erra gestured at the door, saw Halann still following them, scowling, and pointedly ignored him. “Give us privacy,” she informed the nearest guard, and then gestured Andra in, shutting the door after. Yes, Halann had finally quieted when she’d confronted him—but she didn’t mind reminding him of his place, either.

  “Don’t worry,” Erra assured Andra, before Andra could even speak. “I will handle this, and I’ll keep you safe.”

  “I know,” Andra said, her voice heavy with emotion. “I just…Erra, what will you do?”

  “Strike back,” Erra said.

  “Against the mage?”

  “Yes,” Erra said. She had the brand at her hip again, still tangling with her robe if she walked too fast. When she confronted the mage for this, the mage would fall.

  “How?” Andra stared at her.

  Erra shook her head. She didn’t like lying to Andra, but this was too important. “I can’t tell you—as much as I trust you, it’s a secret that only the Highest can know. But once that girl falls, the rest of the Closest will, too.”

  Andra swallowed, nodded. “I see. But what if…what if there are other mages?”

  “Then we’ll deal with them, too,” Erra said. “Mages, Closest, and anyone else who dares defy us.”

  “Of course, Highest,” Andra said, but she still looked uncomfortable, not reassured.

  Erra sighed and tried to soften herself—this was Andra, after all, not anyone else. She could allow herself this one moment. She took Andra’s hand and squeezed it gently. “You just need to trust me, and the rest of the Highest. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “I know,” Andra said, and squeezed back. “It’s just, if there are more mages…what if…”

  Erra started to give her another reassurance, wanted to hold her and make promise after promise, but before she could say anything at all, the door rattled and was thrown open. She looked up in irritation and found Desinn wild-eyed and clutching a scrap of paper. His robe was in total disarray, and there were guards flanking him.

  “Highest, this is…it’s a message. From the mage.” Desinn held the paper out, his hand shaking.

  Erra braced herself and pulled away from Andra. “You’d best go.”

  “Yes, Highest,” Andra said, but she hesitated for a long moment before finally walking out. Erra dismissed the guards who’d come with Desinn, but she kept Desinn himself in the room. She shut the door and looked at the letter.

  It was written in Elan’s handwriting.

  Highest,

  The Curse is broken. My people are free. You have seen my power for yourself. Let the draining of your reservoirs be a lesson: if you fight us, you will lose. Even if you slaughter every last one of us, you will doom yourself.

  The Well was crafted by Closest and is our birthright. Despite the lies you have told for generations, only I control the Well’s power. Further, its magical binding is tied to the Closest’s very bloodlines. The Curse nearly eradicated that binding and caused the drought. Our freedom ensures the Well’s continued glory—but if there are no Closest, there is no Well.

  If forced to, we will fight for our freedom with every breath. There is not one Closest who would not die before bowing to you again. So as I said: if you fight us and we defeat you, you lose your power and your lives. If you fight us and you conquer us, we will die rather than allowing you to rule us, and the Well will die with us.

  But if you relinquish your power and raise no force against us, we will allow for peace. That choice is yours.

  The signature was a scrawl, barely legible—it looked poorly copied, handwriting worse than a child’s. Even so, Erra could read it: Jae Aredann.

  A letter from Jae—but in her own traitorous brother’s handwriting. So much for the message he’d sent her before the Break. He’d stood by then, while their father was killed, and he wrote this now, a threat on her enemy’s behalf. He’d chosen his side.

  She willed her back to stay straight, unbowed, and unbent. Andra was one thing, but she couldn’t show even a moment’s worth of weakness to Desinn. She set the letter down and demanded, “Where did you get this?”

  “I was accosted,” he said, straightening his robes. “Two thugs in black robes, like at the vow ceremony and the Break—”

  “Did you read this?” she interrupted.

  “Yes, Highest. I didn’t know what it was at first—”

  “Do you believe it?” she demanded.

  “Yes…yes, Highest,” Desinn said, hesitant. “I heard your father say some…some things at Aredann that made me wonder if…but…I don’t know. It isn’t a matter for me to discuss.”

  “That’s right, it’s not,” Erra said. “So don’t, not one word to anyone.”

  “Yes, Highest,” he agreed quickly, and fled when Erra gestured him to the door.

  Erra took a moment to herself to contemplate it. Now that she knew the full truth of the War and the Well, she couldn’t deny that fighting the Closest could spell disaster. It was possible that it would destroy the Well.

  But at the same time, she could hear her father’s voice reminding her that it wasn’t the Well that protected the world. It was the Highest.

  The mage’s threats didn’t matter. Even the Well itself barely mattered now, especially since the rain had returned—the reservoir would fill itself with that; the channels would flow, the crops would continue to grow. The Well was important, yes, but not the most important thing.

  No one could ever doubt the Highest. That was the key to keeping the world safe. Which meant this rebellion had to be put
down—no matter what it cost.

  Jae was taking weary steps toward her room but heard a footfall behind her. She went still and forced herself to breathe slowly as she turned around to see who needed her now, what would keep her from sleep. She was tired, and not just physically. Draining the central cities’ reservoirs had taken a lot from her, even with her increased power, and someone had needed her attention every moment since. The Order, to talk about strategy and how they’d strike next, if they should attack or retreat. New groups of Closest arriving. The squads that were now training, the volunteer kitchen workers in the estate house who were preparing food for the entire thriving town of Closest, the handful of volunteers who watched all the children. Everyone had questions about where they could go, if it was safe, how much they could consume or should cook, what they should do next. Somehow, they all expected her to know the answer.

  She tried. She really did. But now all she wanted was to lie down on her mat, shut her eyes, and be alone in the dark and the quiet.

  Elan was the one who’d followed her. He held up a single hand, palm open. She sagged in relief and jerked her head toward her room and he fell into step with her.

  “I won’t keep you long,” he promised. “And I’ll make sure Karr knows to keep everyone else out. You need sleep or you won’t be any good to anyone.”

  Jae wasn’t sure she was much good to anyone now, but she didn’t say so. Just waited. As always, when she didn’t react, Elan continued.

  “I thought you’d be interested in hearing what I’ve translated. But it can certainly wait—I can see that you’re tired.”

  She was, but Elan was still acting a little awkward around her, as if he was afraid she’d throw him out at any moment. So she nodded and led the way into her room. “Yes, of course.”

  He sat cross-legged and shuffled the papers he’d been carrying. “It’s about the founding of the Well. Letters between Janna Eshara and the other Closest of the time—and mages of the Highest as well. It keeps mentioning the cursed Rise, but I still have no idea what it is. Magic gone wrong, somehow.”

  Jae waited, listening, longing to shut her eyes.

  “It does explain a little about why there have been no mages in so long, though. The whole reason the Highest refused to join Janna’s mages was because of the Rise. They believed any great work of magic had the potential to destroy the world. So they refused. Then, after the War, the movement against magic—magic that had killed thousands—was so strong, they decided to seal their magic off entirely.”

  “That must be part of what the vow ceremony does,” Jae said. “I know it was part of the binding of the Curse, but the way Nallis’s energy dimmed after his vow…I think the ceremony also siphons off the Avowed’s magic. And since the Closest’s magic was hidden away, that only leaves the Twill…and any Twill mages, they kill.”

  “I wonder how,” Elan said. “You’d think mages would be able to defend themselves.”

  “You’d think. But at the Break…” Jae had lost her magic. She still didn’t know what had caused it there, or at the vow ceremony. It hadn’t lasted long, but if it had been the Highest’s doing, that would explain how they’d been able to murder Twill mages through the years, including Lenni’s mother.

  Jae started to answer, but before she could, heavy footfalls hit the corridor outside her room and someone called, “Lady Mage! Lady!” She stood, startled, and Elan climbed to his feet and jerked the door open. Minn was outside, frantic. “Come fast, there’s fighting—we’re under attack!”

  Just like that, Jae’s exhaustion vanished and she ran back the way she’d come, Elan and Minn at her elbows. They dashed down the corridors, downstairs and out, and then the noises were unmistakable. Screams and weapons clanging and people shouting. It was happening in the town square, and a thread of smoke rose from that direction, too.

  She skidded to a stop at the edge of it, trying to figure out how to help. Elan and Minn pushed their way in, Elan stooping to pick up a knife off the ground, Minn producing one from her belt. Jae was unarmed and felt helpless. She reached for the energy around her, watching the fight in both true vision and other-vision, but she couldn’t figure out a way to intervene. She could shake the ground, open up a chasm—but the groups of fighters were so intertwined she couldn’t be sure she’d only knock over the attackers.

  The far edge of the square was on fire. At least one torch had been dropped and caught. It wasn’t an enormous flame yet, but she couldn’t let it spread. She couldn’t control fire, though, so instead she reached for the air around it. It was thick with water, and fire needed air to survive. As a body collapsed at her feet and a wide-eyed Closest slammed into her, driving someone else back, she raised her hands and pulled the elements apart.

  Air rushed out. Water rushed in, a lightly misting rain covering the whole square. The fire died almost instantly, turning to sizzles. Someone began cheering, realizing she was there, but the attackers didn’t slow even as the cheer spread. Jae tried to figure out where her people were in the crowd—maybe she could at least separate everyone into groups, try to contain the fighting that way—but then it was clear, the attackers were grouped together, yes, but trying to get to her, now that she’d shown herself. Before she could stop it, Lenni yelled, “Here! Everyone, here!” and shoved between Jae and the crowd.

  “No!” Jae yelled, but it was too late. The fighting was too intertwined again, members of the Order following Lenni deeper into the fray, trying to protect Jae from the onslaught. She ducked back, frantic, looking for a way to strike, but one of the attackers saw her, broke away, and went right for her.

  She didn’t have time to think, and let instinct take over instead. The ground trembled and her attacker slid, hitting the mud that had formed when she’d put out the fire, landing square on his back. Three Closest closed in on him, outnumbered, and she heard him scream—

  The mud gave her the idea. She raised her arms and shouted, “Enough!”

  She called on the water again, and the earth along with it, releasing a torrent of mud. It burbled up from the ground, first ankle height, then knee. She didn’t dare raise it farther, in case injured people were trapped, but it was thick and heavy. It seemed to mute the noises of the night, and everyone who’d been so frantic was now slowed down, trapped, unable to pull their way through the sludge.

  It wasn’t a perfect solution. People who were close enough still fought, at least for a moment, before everything fell still and everyone stared at her. She let out a breath, looking around desperately, and saw Elan—just as trapped as everyone else, a knife still in his hand.

  “Tell me what happened,” she demanded, using the energy of the air around her to carry her voice, unnaturally loud, to everyone. “How they got in.”

  “The Closest let them walk right in!” one of the members of the Order said—Casinn, the young, nervous one. One of his arms was limp at his side, blood gushing from a wound on his shoulder.

  “They were disguised.” That was barely a murmur, from one of the Closest nearest her. Jae turned her attention to the young woman who’d spoken, who immediately shrank under her gaze. “I’m sorry, Lady Mage, they were…they were dressed like Closest. We thought they were just another group, ready to come in and help, wanting to see you for themselves, but…”

  Someone else chimed in. “We realized they were too loud, something wasn’t right. I tried to check so we could be sure and they attacked.”

  Jae now stared around at the attackers. Avowed guards, she assumed, but of course she didn’t know any of them. Given how they’d turned toward her as soon as she’d shown herself, that must have been their plan: get to the house, and get her. At least her magic had held. Whatever had happened at Danardae, during the Break and the vow ceremony before it, hadn’t happened again.

  “Throw down your weapons,” she said, voice carrying again.

  There was a long, horrible pause. No one moved.

  “Drop your weapons,” Elan said, calling ou
t to the whole crowd, “and we’ll spare your lives, for now.”

  The threat must have done it, because finally one of the attackers did so, discarding a sword and a knife into the muck. The rest followed suit. Their weapons would go to the Closest, help arm them.

  Freeing everyone from the mud was a trickier matter. Jae could dry it, so it turned to powder they could easily kick through, but they had to do it one person at a time, freeing the Closest quickly, and the attackers more slowly—and only after their arms had been tied behind them, securing them so they couldn’t fight again. Closest who had experience patching wounds up helped those who’d been injured, while Lenni and Casinn led the captured Avowed to the house. They joined the handful of captured Avowed in the basement, one of the only rooms that locked. Jugs of water were usually kept there, underground to keep them cool, and locked in because they had been so precious during the drought. It was the nearest thing the house had to a dungeon or cell.

  It was well past the middle of the night when Jae finally limped back into the house herself, everyone freed and cared for. She was so tired her head was swimming, but sleep was now a distant fantasy. There were more important immediate matters. Instead of her sleeping room, she walked to the study.

  Within a few minutes, a small group had gathered to join her. Elan, of course, sporting a bandage around one of his calves. Lenni and Palma—Lenni had run out to join the fray, but Palma hadn’t. And Karr, joined by Minn, the Closest woman who’d come in with the same group as Palma. Minn alone in the group still looked scared, her anxiety obvious in her expression, her gaze darting around as if she thought someone might attack again at any moment.

  “It’s all right now,” Elan assured her, helping her sit, even though he’d been injured worse. “I take it you’ve never been in a fight before.”