The Book of Fire

by Marjorie B. Kellogg

  DRAGON, ARE YOU THERE? I CANNOT SEE YOU.

  Earth had never wanted nor been able to hide himself from her before.

  I AM. DO NOT ASK WHERE, FOR YOUR OWN SAFETY.

  The Tinker wagons moved faster toward the intersection as the terror-stricken mob stampeded into the side streets and alleys, trampling the slower and weaker in their desperation to flee. Luther and Brenda struggled to keep the frightened mules from bolting out of control. Beside Erde, N’Doch was singing. It was a wordless, soaring sort of song, unlike any she’d ever heard him sing. Erde felt the power in it, like the surge of oceans.

  The shadow passed again, like the shiver of a dream, with a metallic rattle of wings and another rending cry. The air smelled like ash and molten iron. Erde felt him up there, searching, his inhuman eyes raking the darkened ground. She made her mind go as still as she knew how.

  He knows me, just as the hell-priest knows me!

  At the mouth of the square, Scroon Crew’s wagons blocked the intersection. The mob broke against them like a wave and surged away to either side, scrambling for the lesser exits, or pounding on the doors of the houses along the square, begging for shelter. Others just dropped to the ground where they were and prayed. The wail of fearful believers rose to drown out the shouting. Somehow, somewhere, there was still gunfire. Thumping on the caravan’s sides drew Erde’s glance to Baron Köthen. His face was alight with grim satisfaction as he wielded his quarterstaff against a pair of men trying to climb up on the wagon. He was glad to be in action at last. They were almost to the intersection.

  DRAGON! THE TINKERS ARE LEAVING! WHAT SHOULD I DO?

  GO WITH THEM AND BE SAFE. YOU’VE DONE YOUR PART. NOW WE MUST DO OURS.

  And don’t speak to us! You can’t hide yourselves as we can. He’ll go after you, and distract us from our task.

  As Lady Water’s voice faded in Erde’s head, the shrieking dragon above swooped down out of the night and settled with a sound of clashing swords in the center of the square. Erde recoiled into the shadow of the caravan’s roof. She was sure he would pick her out of the crowd. But she could not keep from easing forward just a bit to stare.

  In the jittery light of the torches, Lord Fire’s scales glimmered like the fabled treasure hoard of gold and fabulous jewels. He was winged, horned, shred-eared, and clawed. His barbed tail coiled around his muscled haunches like a snake ready to strike. His eyes flamed like blown embers, bright heat in darkness. He curved his plated back, arched his long, sensuous neck, and let a curl of smoke rise from his cavernous nostrils. The very essence of Dragon. He was awesome, magnificent.

  And horrific. This was Baron Köthen’s understanding of dragon. This was what he’d met in the hell-priest’s eyes.

  Lord Fire himself.

  Erde did not know how this could be, but now she was sure of it.

  The wagons slowed and halted as the Tinkers, even the mules, stared at him, astonished. With a deep resounding crescendo, N’Doch completed his song. For a moment, the world was becalmed, as if life itself had paused on its journey to pay homage to this lordly creature, the king of ancient myth, preening himself in the village square.

  “I never thought . . .” murmured Erde.

  “That he’d be so beautiful?” N’Doch finished for her. “Me neither. He knows it, too. Look at him strut!”

  Then the stillness ended. Lord Fire lifted his elegant head and roared. Great booming echoes beat around the building facades and against Erde’s eardrums. The priests of the town and a few who had come in with the procession scrambled into a huddle and prostrated themselves before him. The dragon seemed to be waiting. The curve of his neck tightened into an impatient arc. The barb on his tail, as tall as a man, lashed back and forth.

  One of the priests, stuttering and stumbling, dragged himself onto his knees and struggled to string together enough words to explain what had just happened before Lord Fire’s arrival. “The Great God,” he called the dragon, but could get no farther. Another, facedown, tried to help him, then suddenly all of them, men and women, were up on their knees babbling hysterically, begging the “Great God’s” forgiveness. Packs of abject worshipers, huddled around the square, added their own chorus of wails and moans.

  Fire snaked his head around to stare at the shivering priests. With an angry flare of his enameled wings, he reared up and roared again. Three of the priests collapsed in a faint. The rest threw themselves flat on the bloodstained stones, mumbling incoherently.

  Erde sensed a momentous gathering of dragon energies. A decision. The time for confrontation had come.

  I CAN TELL YOU WHAT HAS OCCURRED HERE, BROTHER.

  Fire dropped to all fours, poised for battle like a cat. N’Doch and Erde shuddered as a new voice invaded their heads: deep, raw, and furious.

  WHAT? YOU? HERE?

  YES, BROTHER.

  Earth’s presence was directionless and vast. Even Erde could not tell where he was. Fire glared around the square.

  LEAVE ME ALONE! YOU’RE TOO LATE!

  NEVER!

  WHERE IS SHE? WHERE IS THE PRIESTESS OF MY TEMPLE?

  WE KNOW NOT.

  YOU HAVE TAKEN HER!

  If you’d listen to those humans instead of frightening them . . .

  YOU HERE, TOO!

  Is this how you greet us after so long?

  YOU’VE TAKEN HER!

  She flees an assassin.

  LIARS! WHERE IS SHE?

  WHERE IS OUR SISTER AIR?

  HOW SHOULD I KNOW?

  Caught in the maelstrom of the dragons’ power, Erde still heard the note of petulance in Lord Fire’s tone. For some reason, it gave her courage.

  WE THINK YOU DO.

  FIND HER YOURSELF! I AM BUSY.

  BUSY TERRORIZING THOSE YOU WERE CREATED TO SERVE. MUST WE REMIND YOU OF YOUR DUTY?

  I SERVE THEM AS THEY DESERVE!

  The golden dragon rose again, shrieked, and spat a bright stream of fire at the ceremonial dais at the head of the square. The draped red fabric was instantly ash. The dry wooden beams and floorboards exploded into flame with a whoosh like a thousand birds taking flight. Heat washed the Tinker wagons in rhythmic waves.

  N’Doch yanked Erde back into the shelter of the caravan’s metal walls.

  “The sonofabitch even breathes fire! No wonder everything around here’s built out of stone!”

  She couldn’t imagine how he could complete a coherent sentence, with so much raw power coursing through his brain as it was through hers.

  “Ev’rybuddy up!” shouted Brenda. The Oolyoots who’d been defending the wagons on foot each grabbed at the side of a wagon to hoist themselves upward. On Beneatha’s wagon, Charlie beat out sparks caught in the folds of the canvas. The dragon in the square screamed again. His voice in Erde’s head was like knife blades along her nerves.

  LEAVE ME ALONE!

  BROTHER, WE MUST FOLLOW OUR DESTINY.

  THAT DESTINY DOESN’T SUIT ME. I DENY IT!

  NO, YOU WILL NOT DENY IT. YOU CANNOT DENY IT.

  I AM FIRE! I AM THE LORD OF THIS KINGDOM! YOU CANNOT BEND ME TO YOUR WILL!

  We’ll see about that . . .

  And where there had been one dragon, suddenly there were three, crouched staring at each other in the glare of the burning dais.

  Erde heard Luther’s yell of exultation and terror and then stopped paying attention to anything but the dragons. She leaned out into the wash of heat, entranced. She’d let the fire consume her entirely, to be witness to so glorious a sight! N’Doch grabbed her, pulling her back. She pushed him away.

  “No! No! You must look! Oh, look at them now!”

  Earth loomed gigantic in the flickering darkness, as solid and towering as the side of an ancient mountain. His massive head was like a pinnacle of carved stone. His great eyes, like veined agate, glowed with the inner light of righteousness. Erde remembered the confused little dun-colored beast of two months ago, and was proud.

  Lady Water stirred and rocked at her point of th
e triangle, a sea vision in blue and green and lavender, rising from the Deep. Her luminous crest and frills eddied around her like a dancer’s sibilant veils. Her sleek head was the shifting center of a swirl of rainbow phosphorescence. Her actual shape was no longer possible to determine.

  Silhouetted against a leaping wall of flame, Fire screeched and lashed his tail. In answer, the paving stones rippled. The ground shook. The stones of the houses shivered and rattled. Lightning flashed, and the heated air of the square rose in hissing columns of steam as water fell out of nowhere to douse the flames. Fire searched about for something else to put to the torch. His glare fell on the priests groveling at his feet.

  N’Doch said, “Uh-oh. Time to go.”

  Baron Köthen jogged up from behind to shake Luther out of his dragon daze and slap the flanks of the mule he was mounted on. The stalled caravan lurched forward. Köthen swung up into the driver’s seat, shoved Erde over, and grabbed the reins. “The battle is joined! Would we could stay to witness it!”

  “They told us to leave!” Erde regretted it as much as he. She feared leaving them, yet knew she must bow to their dragon wisdom. “They say we’ll only get in the way.”

  Köthen nodded. “They fight a different sort of battle. And the Tinkers have need of us.”

  Scroon Crew had lit the side lanterns on their lead wagon. With all their walkers piled on in a confusion of clinging bodies, they pulled ahead out of the intersection just as Blind Rachel reached them. But for a few scurrying villagers, the main street lay empty and shrouded in darkness. Another lightning flash. Scroon’s mules leaped forward and set a breakneck pace. Bending low over the lead mule’s neck, Luther urged his own team after them.

  Erde’s head cleared as she withdrew from the dragon contact. But she kept glancing back. She was disturbed by Lord Fire’s denial of his destiny. Not only because it was outrageous and unforgivable, but because he spoke as if he knew very well what that destiny was. An exact understanding of this still eluded his siblings.

  As the wagons clattered out of the square, she gripped the edge of the caravan and leaned out for a last backward look, in time to see Fire rear up again and launch himself at Earth, spewing a stream of white heat aimed straight at the big dragon’s heart. But he only melted stone. In a blink, Earth was not there, but behind him instead. As Fire landed from his leap, the ground bucked viciously beneath him. His huge wings beat furiously as he tumbled off-balance. Shrieking his outrage, he whirled on Water, not with flame but to tear at her with his claws. Water danced and hovered, just out of his reach.

  Brother Fire, where is our sister Air?

  Fire lunged, snagging an edge of Water’s crest with one scimitar claw. N’Doch was singing his song again, first under his breath, then out loud, a fervent paean of anguish and prayer.

  No! We shall not make this town a battleground!

  As Fire lunged again, Water danced away and, as suddenly as a sound, glistening wings were born out of the rainbow hues of her frills, many-folded wings like the tails of exotic fishes. N’Doch fell back against the seat, eyes closed. A ragged gasp of relief shook his entire body.

  “We did it!”

  And then the blue dragon sang, a lilting, whistling taunt that drew Fire snarling in pursuit as she soared away into the darkness. The rain stopped. The ground stilled. Erde looked for Earth. The square was empty.

  Paia smells smoke. She pulls on Luco’s hand as he eases head and shoulders around the cracked-open door. “We shouldn’t go out there! We should stay here and wait for the God to come get us.”

  Luco peers out. “What a mess. Worse than I . . . we’re going to have to make a run for it.” He draws his head back. “Let him what?”

  “Come and get us.”

  “He’d have to know where we are.”

  “He does. Or he should.” She shouldn’t share this secret, but the First Son is working so hard to protect her and it’s the only help she has to offer. “I summoned him.”

  “That won’t work here. We’re out of locator range.”

  “I have . . . a different kind.”

  His brow creases faintly. “Are they somewhere other than on your clothing?”

  “Yes. They . . . that is, it . . . is in me. I am the locator.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t either, but you know that I always know when he’s calling me, and that I can’t ever resist his summons . . .”

  Luco nods, slowly.

  “Oh, Luco, don’t ever tell him I told you. He’d be humiliated.”

  “Because . . .?”

  “Because it’s the same for him. He hears me, and he has to come when I call him.”

  The priest’s handsome face goes slack, and Paia worries that she’s miscalculated. Perhaps Luco’s devotion to the God is not only about gaining power within the Temple. Perhaps it is also about belief, and now she has shaken the foundations of his faith, by implying that the God is not entirely omnipotent.

  “How could I not have known this?”

  “I only learned it myself very recently.”

  “And he knows where you’re . . . summoning him from?”

  Paia nods faintly. She has never seen the priest look so at a loss.

  He closes the door behind him and leans against it heavily. “When did you summon him?”

  “When the shooting started.”

  “But . . . he isn’t here.”

  “No. Not yet.” This is the part Luco will really hate. It makes the God sound too much like an ordinary . . . person. “He’s probably punishing me. He hates it when I summon him. But he always comes eventually. Of course, the longer he resists, the angrier he is when he arrives.” Paia pushes dust around with the soft toe of the shoes Luco had given her to replace her gold temple sandals. “But how could he be angry when our lives are at stake? He should be . . . Luco? What is it?”

  He’s pressed his palms to his eyes with a soft moan. He holds them there for the length of a breath. “He’ll lay the town to waste!”

  “What? No, he . . .”

  He pushes abruptly away from the door. “Oh, what have I . . . I can’t ask the . . . no, we must . . . they can . . . Damn! That’s the end of it, then!” He reaches the wall, rebounds with both hands, and strides back toward her. Outside, the rattling of cart wheels nears. He grips her elbow, guides her toward the door. “This is what we’ll do. Once we get out of town, you will call him again, as urgently as you can, to draw him away while the townsfolk get to cover. If anyone’s to survive this, we’ve got to hurry!”

  Paia resists. “He won’t . . .!”

  “He will!”

  “He wouldn’t just kill innocent people!”

  Luco grabs her by both shoulders and shakes her. “The hell he wouldn’t!” Then he collects himself and says more gently. “He will. Believe me. We must do what we can to keep down the death toll.”

  The death toll? She stares at him.

  “Paia, listen to me! I have relatives and friends in this town! So do . . .” He stops, monitoring the sounds outside. “They’re here. Let’s go.”

  Paia has no relatives and friends in any town. “All right,” she says faintly.

  Luco opens the door again, drawing her into the opening. She hears the sound of glass breaking nearby and shrinks into the shelter of his arm. Night has fallen while they’ve been in hiding. The reek of burning thickens the air. The dark street seethes with fleeting shadows, people running, ducking into doorways. But the wagon clattering toward them has lanterns swinging from the driver’s perch, like a promise of rescue. Luco hustles her out of the house as the wagon thunders past. There are others behind it. Some of the shadows swoop down on them, cluster, and move alongside. Luco is talking, hoarse and insistent. “We have to warn them! All of them! Even his own!” Paia hears a man’s voice answer, and then a woman’s, but not the words they’re saying. Fear seems to have numbed her senses. She is focused too desperately on keeping upright. Luco is dragging her directly i
nto the path of the oncoming wagons. But the wagons slow. A man leaps off the lead mule, struggling to halt it. A shadow scuttles past Paia and yanks open a door in the rear of the wagon. Luco scoops her up and bundles her inside, then springs in behind her, reaching one hand to hoist the shadow in after them.

  “Go!” the shadow hisses through the open door.

  The door is slammed shut from the outside, sinking the inside into total darkness. The wagon surges forward. Paia is thrown against a wall. She reaches blindly for a steady hold. She finds only smooth metal, other people and rough, lumpy, shifting surfaces. Bags of onions? Cabbages? The wagon rocks harder as it picks up speed. Paia is pressed against sweating bodies and stinking vegetables. Luco and the shadow man whisper urgently in the darkness. The man’s odd accent blends with the din of the wagon. Paia can make no sense of it.

  Abruptly, her courage shatters. She is terrified and uncomfortable, and angry with the God for not showing up when her life is truly in danger. She is used to being taken care of, not abused and ignored. “Luco!”

  He hushes her and returns to his muttered conversation. “What?” she hears him exclaim. “Others? When?”

  “Luco, please! I can’t bear . . .!”

  “Keep still!” he hisses. “We have the gates to get through!”

  “But it’s so . . .”

  He swears quietly but obscenely, shocking her into silence. She feels him moving about, struggling with something invisible in the confining darkness. “Here, I want you to hide under this, in case they search the van!”

  “If dey ev’n bodda ta stop us,” murmurs the shadow man.

  “Can’t take the chance.” Before Paia can protest, Luco has thrown a piece of canvas over her and pressed her to the jouncing floor. “Just breathe easy and keep still!”