Trail of Flames

by Marlow York

  “We have always allowed your people to pass through our fields unharmed, without so much as asking to make a trade, and now you storm into our territory making threats!” The man’s voice carried across the Boulder Fields, and the other figures lifted their clubs.

  “All of our clans are in great danger!” I interrupted.

  Their eyes fell on me. I forced a breath, unsettled by the crude rock masks staring at me. “Listen to me,” I said calmly. “The City is searching for people like us, people with Ancient Powers. They want to destroy us, just like they tried to destroy our ancestors in the past.”

  “How do you know this?” the man demanded.

  “Because it has already happened. Have you not heard?”

  The Nordahl glanced at each other. Perhaps they found safety in their solitude like the Secara did, but they must not have been as diligent about keeping an eye on the other clans.

  “The Fiero and Grakkir villages have been destroyed,” I said. “The surviving Fiero were either killed or captured by the City. The remaining Grakkir have fled. Surely you have heard or seen airships patrolling?”

  “They will not find us here,” the man said.

  “Don’t be so sure of that,” I replied. “We traveled through the underground tunnel to get here. We were attacked by metal spiders, ones that were likely created by the City. They also killed Cypress’s friend. If those things can get underground and know how to find people like us, it’s only a matter of time before they find your people, too.”

  “Then we will warn our leader ourselves,” the man said dismissively.

  “We must speak to Atlas,” Cypress insisted. “There’s more to tell.”

  “King Atlas!” another man barked.

  The leader’s gaze traveled from one face to the next. Finally, he sighed with impatience. “Alright. An audience with our king is not granted to many, so mind your tongues. He will not take disrespect as kindly as I have.” He looked pointedly at Cypress.

  “Understood.” I interrupted Cypress before he could reply.

  “King?” Saven asked.

  I shrugged and followed the group.

  The Nordahl traveled easily through the earth itself, but I trembled at the thought of crawling into their tunnel. The man led us farther up the mountain, then down into a small crevice. We reached a tall boulder and the path ended.

  The man lifted his hand, and the boulder shook. A huge crack split the very center, running from top to bottom. The man pushed his hand forward, and half of the boulder moved backward, revealing a small space for us to squeeze through.

  He led us onward while the other Nordahl men followed behind us with their clubs in hand. The path became a narrow walkway between cool stone walls. Torches attached to metal brackets on the wall lit our path. The tunnel reminded me eerily of the underground cave. Was Cypress right? Did the Nordahl have something to do with those spiders attacking us?

  I heard the distant sound of metal striking stone. With each step, the noise grew louder and more rhythmic. The tunnel opened, and we stood on the edge of a great cavern.

  Sunlight shone through a hole in the ceiling high above us. Down in the cavern, dozens of people hammered on the walls with pickaxes. I couldn’t see their faces clearly from such a distance, but none of them were wearing masks. We stood in the middle of a mine.

  “Keep moving.” The man urged us forward as if he didn’t want us seeing what they were mining.

  The path wound around the outer edge of the cavern, which crisscrossed with several rope bridges. Tunnels led off in every direction, and we followed the leader down the second one. When we came out the other side, we stood in the middle of another huge cavern. I gawked at the elaborate decorations adorning the room.

  Tapestries covered the walls. Massive stone sculptures stood on both sides of the room, a collection of animals and people. A long table stretched down the center of the cavern, devoid of people despite numerous silver place settings. An old man slowly swept the floor, pausing to cast a curious stare as we passed.

  “These people are rich?” I whispered in awe.

  “Only because they are greedy,” Cypress muttered disdainfully. The Nordahl man turned sharply to look at him, but Cypress didn’t flinch.

  “Your Highness. We have intruders in our territory.”

  I looked up and saw the leader of the Nordahl clan.

  King Atlas sat upon an ornately carved chair, his posture lazy, yet somehow regal. His clothes were made of leather and furs, but they were clean, unlike those worn by the men surrounding us. Even from across the room, I could tell he was tall by the way he filled the throne. His pale, stony face suggested he was middle-aged, and he stared at us with distaste.

  “Who are they, Nero?” His voice echoed around the chamber. “Bring them closer.”

  We walked across the room, the guards following so close I could almost feel their breath on my neck.

  “We come from—ouch!” Cypress’s words were cut off when the leader of the guards, Nero, smacked him on the shin with his club.

  “Sire, the boy is a Secara, the girl and the snake are Grakkir.” Nero spoke our clan names with disgust. “They say the City has attacked the Fiero and Grakkir villages looking for those with Ancient Blood. They believe we are in danger.”

  The swishing of the old man’s broom stopped, throwing the room into silence. All eyes turned to the king, whose face hadn’t changed upon hearing the news. It was not the reaction I expected.

  He rubbed the rough, graying stubble along his jawline. “What evidence do you have of this?”

  “I was there during both attacks,” I spoke up.

  One of the Nordahl men moved to strike me with his club, but Saven hissed and exposed his fangs. King Atlas raised his hand. “Let the girl speak,” he said calmly.

  “I am not born to the Grakkir clan,” I said. “I’m a Fiero.” I took a breath to calm my anxious heart. Perhaps someday it wouldn’t pound with fear each time I admitted who I really was. “After the City attacked, I was captured by the Grakkir and lived among them. I was blessed by the Goddess of Snakes and trained to become a Warrior.”

  I sensed the others shifting with interest, but the king merely watched me patiently with the same stoic eyes.

  “Surely you heard about the attacks? Or felt them, even all the way out here?”

  “What transpires above ground is no concern of mine,” King Atlas said.

  I hesitated, taken aback by his dismissiveness. “Both villages were destroyed…” I said slowly, my brows pinched with confusion. “Most of the Fiero were killed, the rest captured. The Grakkir were forced to abandon their homes and migrate.”

  King Atlas’s expression remained blank. If there weren’t intelligence behind his bored eyes, I would’ve assumed he was too dumb to comprehend my words.

  “This doesn’t concern you at all?”

  “Not at all,” he replied.

  I glanced at Cypress, who didn’t look the least bit surprised by the king’s reaction. Or lack thereof.

  “Aren’t you afraid for your people’s safety? The City will come for you, unless we stop them.”

  King Atlas snorted a laugh. “Last I knew, the City wasn’t the digging type. Airships are more to their liking, correct?”

  “Yes, but they have bombs—”

  “We’ve felt their blasts from miles away. However, they’ve never come close to finding us. As far as the City knows, the Nordahl died centuries ago.”

  “That’s what everyone thought about the Ancient Fire,” I said. “But it lives in me.”

  I raised my hand to demonstrate, but the king shook his head and stopped me. “The difference between the Nordahl and the Fiero is that we are smart enough to know we should not rely on others to protect us, especially the City. We survive because we know how to be self-sufficient and mind our own business. If other clans are not so wise, it is their own fault they are killed.”

  My jaw dropped and anger burned in my chest. I l
ooked at Cypress, hoping he’d think of something to persuade the king before I let the Ancient Fire speak for me.

  Cypress sighed, reluctant to talk to the prideful man staring us down. “The City is already looking for you.”

  For the first time, the king’s eyes showed the slightest hint of interest. “How do you know that?”

  “Metal spiders,” Cypress said, “in the underground tunnels between the Northern Forest and the Boulder Fields, which only the Nordahl and Secara know about. So, either the City is hunting you as well as everyone else with Ancient Powers, or you have been working with the City, looking to kill my people.”

  “Cypress!” I gasped at his lack of tactfulness. My attempts to reason with King Atlas had failed, but Cypress had the courage to instigate.

  “Oh, no…” Saven coiled uncomfortably.

  The Nordahl guards shifted nervously, glancing at each other before looking to their king.

  King Atlas straightened his back. “You’re accusing me of hunting your people?” he spat.

  “Are you?” Cypress folded his arms.

  “Do you even hear what you’re saying? The Nordahl and Secara have had their share of grievances, but never have we actively pursued each other. Have you forgotten the centuries-long truce our people forged? Our trading agreements?”

  “Trading agreements that you demolished after your father’s death!” Cypress shouted. “Your father knew we needed each other, but you turned our alliance to dust.”

  The king’s jaw twitched. “Do not speak of my father, especially in his former kingdom.”

  The ground vibrated violently. Dust and pebbles fell from the ceiling, and a low growling sound escaped from somewhere within the walls. I realized that inside the room, surrounded by Nordahl, the rocks and dirt were just as much alive as any plant or animal above ground.

  “You know I speak the truth.” Cypress’s face clouded with anger the likes of which I’d never seen from him. A tiny root slipped from a crack in the floor between his feet. It stood taut and trembled with the furious energy radiating from him.

  I felt like I was watching two tense dogs waiting for the other to make the first move. “Cy, don’t.”

  “If we meant to attack you, you would know it was us,” King Atlas continued. “Does a hunk of metal seem like the type of weapon the Nordahl would use?”

  Most items in the room were made of stone, from the furniture to the masks the guards wore. King Atlas probably didn’t want to admit it, but a spider robot was far too advanced for the Nordahl to invent.

  “Would you two stop?” I exclaimed. “Your personal vendettas are not what’s important right now. The future of all those with Ancient Blood is hanging in the balance and stopping the City from controlling the entire world is what we need to focus on!”

  The rumbling vibrations stopped. Cypress glanced at me with embarrassment, torn between logic and his own biases.

  “I assure you,” King Atlas hissed, “my people are quite safe here. Your help is neither needed, nor wanted.”

  “What about the tunnels? Your abandoned mine?” I asked. “You said only your two clans know about it. How did the spiders find their way down?”

  Cypress looked at the king, awaiting an answer.

  “Those tunnels sit on Secaran territory. It isn’t my fault they don’t know how to keep them safely hidden.”

  Cypress inhaled sharply. I put up my arm, stopping him before he angered the king further.

  “This is getting us nowhere,” I muttered to Cypress.

  “This man values his own pride more than he values the lives of his people,” Saven observed. “But the boy is a fool to drag politics into this.”

  I didn’t say anything, but Saven could feel I agreed with him.

  “I don’t think he understands how persistent the City is,” Cypress whispered. “Things have changed. Peace is waning, and as long as the City is in power, things are only going to get deadlier. We can’t make him join us. He will have to find out for himself what the consequences will be.”

  Cypress turned to leave while my heart sank with the weight of his words. I hoped it would be easier to convince people to save themselves.

  I turned and frowned at the king. My eyes roamed around the tall cavern, realizing just how isolated they were.

  “You’re not ruling,” I said slowly. “You’re hiding.”

  King Atlas stared at me. “Excuse me?”

  “I said, you’re hiding. You people are scavengers stealing from the ones who rule above you. You say you don’t care about the world above ground, but what will you do when it’s destroyed? Who will you steal from then? No one. You’ll die, all of you.” I glanced at the other Nordahl men. “Your so-called ‘kingdom’ will become a tomb.”

  “We will find a way to survive,” King Atlas growled. He couldn’t hide his injured pride. “We always find a way.”

  I shook my head with disappointment. It amazed me how his need to be right was more important than the truth. “Deny it as much as you want, but the clans all need each other to survive, one way or another. Even the City has relied on us, and they have significantly more power than you will ever have.”

  King Atlas’s jaw clenched, rage fuming behind his calm façade. “Get out of my kingdom.” He struggled to control the anger building inside him, shuddering the walls around us.

  The Nordahl shifted nervously around me, but I held his gaze. “The war will happen whether or not you are prepared to fight. Hide if you like, deny your place in the world, pretend it doesn’t concern you. Soon enough, you’ll have no choice but to act. Either that, or the City will force you to act, and you won’t be prepared.”

  Before he had a chance to speak, I joined Cypress near the tunnels. Saven followed me, hissing softly at the guards, should they attempt to stop us from leaving.

  Chapter 9

  We passed men and women pushing carts filled with dirt or carrying baskets of stones that glimmered beneath grime. Most glared at us, staring with confusion and distrust. We took a wrong turn and found ourselves in a wide cavern, the walls hollowed out with living quarters. Below us lay dozens of homes constructed of stone and dark fabrics.

  A man called out to us in a guttural language. He lifted his club and gestured back the way we’d come. “Go! Leave!”

  I scoffed. “Clearly they don’t get many visitors.”

  We backtracked, turning down one of the many identical tunnels until sunlight cut into the darkness. My heart hung as heavy as the sun over the mountains when we finally emerged from the Nordahl tunnels. “That was a waste of time,” I told Saven bitterly.

  “It may not have been if someone hadn’t lost their temper.” He cast Cypress a hateful look.

  Irritation rumbled in my chest. “You aren’t wrong.” I sighed. “But we have to remember, there is no guarantee everyone we ask will agree to help us.”

  “King Atlas’s arrogance could get his people killed.”

  I glanced back at the entrance to the Nordahl world. I worried for his people, but there was nothing we could do. “We tried. What happens next is out of our hands.”

  “I’m sorry about that, Valieri.” Cypress’s voice was low, his expression ashamed.

  I bit my tongue to keep from shouting. I wanted to tell him he needed to grow up and stop being selfish. “What’s done is done. We’ll just move on. Only next time,” I stared him in the eye, “I do the talking. We can’t afford to let our personal feelings get in the way.”

  He nodded. “You’re right.”

  “Someone is coming,” Saven interrupted.

  I followed his gaze and saw a figure hurrying from the tunnels. The old man carried his broom all the way from King Atlas’s throne room. “Miss, miss! Please wait!”

  The man reached us, doubling over and gasping for breath. I glanced from Saven to Cypress, their expressions worried.

  “Take your time,” Cypress said kindly. “What’s your name?”

  “Hert.” He inhaled de
eply and stood upright. Even at full height, the man was barely as tall as me. Desperation shone in his grey-blue eyes while his hands wrung the broom handle. “Please don’t think ill of our king. He is prideful, but capable of rational thought.”

  “Old man!”

  Our heads whipped around to the tunnel. Nero sprinted towards us. “What did I say about leaving through the main entrance without a mask?”

  “I know, I know, but I needed to catch them.” Hert looked at each of us in turn. “These days I haven’t the strength to travel through rock like the young ones can.”

  Nero sighed. When he spoke, his voice carried more concern than anger. “Father, we must not go against the king’s wishes.”

  “The king is being foolish!” Hert snapped. “We have felt the City’s attacks. Our people worry, but they are too fearful to say anything. King Atlas assures us we’ll be safe, but that’s not a fact. Hiding underground is no way to live. We should be free to go wherever we like.”

  “You’re right,” Cypress chimed in. “That is why the Secara have joined Valieri’s cause.”

  “So, it’s true?” the old man said. “You’re the last Fire Bringer?”

  I nodded. “Unless we can do something, I fear everyone else will succumb to the same fate as the Fiero.”

  The old man reached out a calloused hand and took my own. He closed his eyes. “The fire burns brightly within you. And so will hope, if only there are those who will fight for it.” He opened his eyes and turned to his son.

  Nero took a deep breath. He removed his mask, revealing a surprisingly young pale face. His hair and chin stubble were dark, but his eyes were pale blue like his father’s. Though his expression was serious, seeing his actual face dissolved the intimidating façade of his skull-like mask of stone.

  “My father is not the only one who feels this way.” His voice was strong and clear without the muffling mask. “King Atlas doesn’t rule like his father did, and because of that many things have changed. Our relationship with our allies, the Secara, has become strained.” He cast Cypress an apologetic look. “But we’ve been relatively safe in our solitude. Many are grateful for this, but it’s not the ideal way to live.”