Divided Fire

by Jennifer San Filippo

  Miren trembled. He’s going to kill us.

  Cheliem turned and raised his arm; a pistol glinted in his hand, pointed at Ori.

  “Don’t!” Miren cried.

  “We had a deal, Miss Miren,” Cheliem growled.

  “I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you!” she cried. “They’re in the next farm over, the one with the blue barn. I swear!”

  Cheliem aimed a kick at her gut. She coughed and doubled over, her vision blurring.

  “And what good is that information to me now?” Cheliem snarled. “You think they didn’t see my men looking for them? I’m sure that was the whole point of your little trick. Very clever. Give me the boy.”

  Miren looked up as Cale pushed Ori behind him. Cheliem aimed another kick at Cale’s stomach, and he doubled over as well.

  “Careful, Cheliem,” Lady Rion said gently. “That one is mine.”

  “Pardon my presumptuousness, milady,” Lord Cheliem said, his tone pleasant as he grabbed Miren’s hair and wrenched her upright. “I could shoot you now, you know that?” he hissed loudly in her ear. “I could lodge a bullet in that grimy little head and throw you in a hole in the ground and no one would find you—no one would even think to look for you. You understand?”

  Rion said, “Not on the carpet, Cheliem, please.”

  Cheliem released her and glanced at Rion. “Maybe if we put the child in the town square for a few hours,” he mused. “Do you think that will work?”

  Rion dipped her head. “I think that would work just fine, Cheliem,” she said serenely. “The threat of violence is often more potent than the act itself.”

  “And yet I find myself using both to great effect.” Cheliem straightened his sleeves. “What if I put the child in the center of town and threaten to hang him if his parents don’t turn themselves in?”

  Ori ducked against Cale’s shoulders.

  Rion shrugged. “It would be difficult to explain should the capital hear of it, don’t you think?”

  Cheliem returned to pacing, the pistol swinging wildly in his grip. Miren pushed herself upright, still shivering from the blow to her stomach. She swallowed against the taste of bile.

  Cheliem pivoted and waved the gun at Miren. “What’s their plan? How do they plan to leave the country?”

  A door opened behind Miren. “Excuse me—” said a servant.

  “Not now,” Cheliem barked.

  Lady Rion raised an eyebrow, but Cheliem didn’t seem to notice. “Yes?” she said.

  “Pardon me, milady, but there is a visitor.”

  “Another visitor,” Lady Rion echoed. “Just what I needed. Who else has come to inconvenience me?”

  “He calls himself Lord Davri of Crescent Bay. He wishes to speak to Lord Cheliem.”

  Silence swept through the room.

  Davri?

  “What is he doing here?” Cheliem swiveled to look at Rion.

  “I’m sure I don’t know.”

  Cheliem glared at Miren. “Is this a trap? Are you planning something?”

  “No, I—I didn’t know.” Miren stammered. Was it a trap? Where were the others? Was Davri alone?

  Rion headed for the door leading to the main hall. “We may as well find out, Cheliem.”

  Cheliem’s eyes darted to Miren and Cale. “It must be a trick. They’ve planned something.”

  Rion sighed and paused by the door. “I do not remember you being so easily disturbed. It is not becoming.”

  “I’m not letting this one out of my sight.” Cheliem pointed to Miren.

  “Then bring them with us.” Rion swept out of the room.

  The guards yanked Miren and Cale to their feet and shoved them after the nobles, Ori still clinging to Cale. Miren caught a questioning look from Cale but shook her head; she had no idea what was going on.

  In the entrance hall, flanked by two armed guards, stood Davri. His blue eyes found Miren’s and held them, as though trying to tell her something. She waited for some kind of sign, but he looked away.

  “Give me one good reason why I should not have you arrested right now,” said Lord Cheliem.

  Because these guards are not under your authority. Davri bowed and extended a hand to Rion. She took it and let him gently bring it to his lips. Thank you for seeing me on such abrupt notice, Lady Rion.

  “I must admit some level of confusion, Lord Davri,” she said.

  “Lord Cheliem here has leveled some startling accusations against you.”

  I can only imagine.

  “Is this your friend?” Rion gestured at Miren.

  Davri nodded, careful not to look at Ori.

  “She was found snooping around Lady Rion’s estate. Would you care to explain?”

  Davri gave Cheliem a questioning look. I assume you already asked her yourself?

  Cheliem looked away, his ears turning red.

  Davri patiently waited for his attention. I have come to offer you a deal. If you release Miren, as well as that boy and his family from your contract, I will willingly report to the nearest military drafting center and give you the bounty.

  In the silence after Davri stopped signing, Miren swallowed. “Davri,” she said. “What are you—?”

  Davri continued, Officially, I am exempt from the draft, but I would be willing to give up my title in this exchange. I will even take a new name if you wish.

  “That is a generous offer,” Rion said. “I think half a Singer’s bounty would make today’s efforts quite worth it.”

  Cheliem froze. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Well, whose men would be escorting Lord Davri to the drafting center? I believe I am entitled to some compensation for today’s events. Do you disagree?”

  Davri’s lip twitched slightly. I would certainly not begrudge you that, milady.

  “No,” Cheliem said. “No, I—I would not begrudge you that either.”

  Davri’s gaze flitted between them, his expression careful. The truth struck Miren with a jolt: This is a ruse.

  She glanced at Lady Rion, worried that Davri was being too obvious, but the woman tilted her head with keen interest. “What a brave young man,” she said with no hint of sarcasm. “It is an honor to serve one’s country.”

  Davri nodded. I have avoided my responsibility for too long.

  Miren thought it must be easier to lie when signing.

  As a lord of the Fifth Circle, my father has never known great wealth or renown, Davri signed. Perhaps this is my chance to bring honor and dignity to his house.

  “How very noble of you,” Lady Rion said.

  “Davri,” Miren said. “Don’t do this. Please.”

  “Don’t speak in the presence of your betters,” Lord Cheliem snarled.

  Please watch your tone with my future sister-in-law, Davri signed sharply.

  “My, what a dramatic situation this is,” Lady Rion said, almost looking pleased. “Well, there’s no reason to wait on this, is there, Cheliem?”

  Cheliem tugged at his coat. “I’m afraid there is, milady. I left the contracts of service back at my estate. It seems, Davri, you’ll need to come with me to retrieve them.”

  Rion’s gaze sharpened. “I think it would make more sense for Lord Davri to remain here while you retrieve the contracts. I can work with the local guard to remove the many wanted posters while you’re gone.”

  Cheliem glared at her. “I’d prefer he stay with me, actually.”

  “I’m sure you do.”

  It seems logical that I stay with Lady Rion, Davri signed.

  Miren glanced at Davri. Was this the plan? To get Cheliem to leave?

  A door slammed, and everyone whirled as a servant barreled into the room. He was streaked with dirt and wore tattered clothes—a worker from the fields.

  “Pardon the intrusion, milady,” he said, panting, “but the crops are on fire.”

  “On fire?” Lady Rion shrieked.

  “Yes milady, we don’t know how—”

  “You idiot! Get out there and put it out
! All of you, help!” she shouted at the guards. She pointed to Cale. “You! Go with them.”

  The guards looked at their prisoners uncertainly. Cale handed Ori to Miren, his face stricken.

  Cheliem whirled. “No, no! This is a trick! This happened to me—”

  I will come! Davri signed to Rion.

  “Thank you,” she said. She and Davri hurried after the guards.

  “You foolish woman!” Cheliem called. “This is a part of their ruse.”

  But no one stopped. Miren and Ori were alone with Lord Cheliem.

  He lifted his pistol. “What is happening?”

  Miren pushed Ori behind her. “Lord Cheliem, I don’t know what’s happening.”

  “What’s the plan?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Cheliem took a step closer, training the pistol inches from her forehead. “I know this is a ploy.”

  “Please, I—”

  “I will shoot you now if you don’t tell me.” Lord Cheliem pushed the barrel into Miren’s forehead, the icy metal biting into her skin. She closed her eyes.

  “Stop!” Ori wailed.

  “Give me the boy,” Cheliem said.

  Miren swallowed. “No.”

  The man raised an eyebrow. “Give me back my servant.”

  “He’s not yours.”

  Cheliem lunged around Miren to grab Ori’s wrist. The boy cried out in pain.

  Miren kneed Cheliem in the groin.

  The lord cried out and doubled over. Miren yanked the gun out of his hand and pulled Ori away from him. She trained the gun on Cheliem. “Don’t come closer.”

  Cheliem put a hand on the floor to steady himself, then stood. “I’ll see you hanged for that,” he said.

  Miren didn’t lower the gun. “Don’t move.”

  He coughed. “You’re going to shoot me? You know the punishment for killing a noble?”

  Miren didn’t move. “Go stand over there.” She motioned to the corner.

  “I will not be ordered around by a peasant. Give me my property.” Cheliem started toward her.

  Miren flicked off the safety. “Don’t come closer!”

  He didn’t stop. “You’re going to have to shoot me.”

  A shot rang out.

  Miren aimed the barrel at the ground, terrified that she had just shot him, but the gun hadn’t kicked; she hadn’t pulled the trigger. Cheliem stumbled. He caught himself and put a hand to his side as bright red began to stream down his coat. He looked up as two more shots found home in his chest. Then he collapsed, unmoving.

  Liviya stood in the doorway, a pistol in her grip.

  She looked to Miren. “Let’s go!”

  Miren grabbed Ori’s arm. “Come on, Ori.”

  Impossibly, they hurried out the front door, seeing no guards to stop them. A monstrous pillar of smoke bloomed from the other side of the estate.

  “Davri—he went to put out the fire—”

  “I know. He’s going to meet us.”

  “Meet us where?”

  “At the river.”

  Liviya ran to the left, in the opposite direction from the fire. On the north side of the estate, the rise dipped for about fifty paces before reaching a sheer cliff that wound from east to west as far as the eye could see, though there was little cover on either side.

  Liviya angled down toward the cliff and ran alongside it, heading west. Below them, the Crown’s Seam tumbled, the river’s surface white and roaring.

  “How do we—how do we get down there?” Miren asked.

  “Keep going!” Liviya said.

  Ori tripped; Miren pulled him upright. “I can’t run!” he cried. Miren paused to scoop him up and scrambled after Liviya.

  The path continued downward, but they were still in plain sight of the mansion.

  “Does Davri know where we’re going?” Miren asked.

  “Yes, keep running!”

  Just behind a dip in the land, Hana sat crouched next to something under a tarp. She gasped when she saw them. “Ori, Ori, Ori!”

  Miren let Hana take Ori from her arms, and the two clung to each other.

  “Ori, don’t ever do that again!” Hana said.

  “I’m sorry, Mama—”

  “You are in so much trouble.”

  Miren looked around. “Where’s Arten?”

  Liviya ran past them and grabbed an edge of the tarp. “Miren, help me with this.”

  Miren hurried over to the other side. A small fishing boat sat underneath the tarp.

  “You got a boat,” Miren said.

  “Help me get it to the edge.”

  Miren didn’t understand—it was still a drop of fifty paces from the cliff to the water, but she helped the other two women half-carry, half-push the boat to the edge.

  Liviya climbed aboard. “Everyone get in. Stay close to the front.”

  “But how are we going to get this down to the water?” Miren asked.

  “Davri’s coming.” Hana tucked Ori between her and Miren. “He’ll get us down there.”

  At the sound of footsteps, Miren’s hand went to Cheliem’s pistol, but it was Davri and Arten and Cale who ran toward them.

  “Time to go!” Arten said. “Davri slowed them down a bit, but they’re coming.”

  The men took their spots in the boat, Davri at the stern, with Arten’s steadying hand on his shoulder.

  “How are we getting down there?” Miren said.

  I can do it, Davri signed as he began to Sing.

  His Voice wasn’t loud, but it carried. Miren heard it briefly touch the faint trace of water that lingered in the air before it reached the river down below. It would be easy for the guards to find them now.

  For a few moments, nothing seemed to happen. Hana glanced at Miren with a question in her gaze, but Miren was listening: the Song wasn’t trying to reach for the water. It was a Song of slowing, of holding back. But wasn’t that the opposite of what they needed?

  She understood as soon as she saw the water crest over the cliff.

  It stood like a tower, steadily rising as Davri held back the current and coaxed it toward them. Miren held her breath as the water pooled around the boat, filling the space underneath. She could almost feel the amount of effort it took to hold that—like trying to slowly roll a boulder down a hill—but Davri’s Voice didn’t waver.

  She clutched the side of the boat as the bow angled down the tower of water.

  The world rushed past.

  They splashed hard into the river as Davri’s Song released its hold on the water, and the current pushed them forward. The boat tilted dangerously, but Davri didn’t stop Singing, though his Song shifted to one of encouragement, steadying the rapids beneath them. She thought it would be too much effort to maintain all the way to the coast, but the Song wasn’t trying to control the current—Davri was just nudging it in clever ways. His Song steadied as the current pushed them due east, the estate quickly growing smaller behind them.

  * * *

  The coast came upon them faster than Miren expected.

  They shot into the calm waters of the bay, docks and port towns stretching across the coast in both directions. Behind them, a jagged face of rock stood twenty paces high. Miren was soaked and shivering, and so was everyone else.

  Davri’s Song sputtered to a halt. He leaned over the side of the boat and vomited.

  “Whoa, easy.” Arten kept a firm grip on his shoulder. “You all right?”

  Davri nodded, straightening as he wiped his mouth.

  “We need to get away from the coast.” Liviya shifted in her seat and wrestled out two oars from the bottom of the boat. She handed one to Cale. “Start rowing.”

  He took it. “Good to see you too, Mother.”

  Liviya paused with such a baffled expression that everyone laughed.

  And there was plenty of awkward shifting and almost tipping over the boat as everyone insisted on hugging each other. Arten ruffled his brother’s hair. Ori fussed until his father pulled him into
his lap and kissed Hana. Liviya held up Cale’s arm and inspected his bruises while he insisted he was fine.

  Miren caught Davri’s gaze. He sat slumped against the stern of the boat, looking exhausted but pleased.

  “That was incredible,” she said. “That was—how did you slow them down?”

  Froze their legs together, he signed, grinning. And some of the barrels of their guns, where I could.

  Miren let out a disbelieving laugh. “Don’t look so pleased with yourself.”

  His grin widened.

  “What happened to you?” Arten said to Liviya. “Where did you go?”

  Liviya held up a hand. “Someone saw me lighting the fire in town, so I had to hide for a while. I spotted a boat in a cornfield, and it took a while to track the owner down and convince him to let me buy it and to buy a horse and cart to transport it, especially with the coin I had on hand. As soon as I got back and found out what happened”—she looked at Ori sternly, who ducked his chin—“we devised a plan to get you out.”

  Davri signed to Liviya, How did you get past Cheliem? He didn’t follow us?

  Miren and Liviya exchanged a glance. Liviya said, “He won’t be a problem anymore.”

  Davri’s eyes widened, but he nodded.

  Miren remembered what Cheliem had said, and her relief quickly soured.

  “Davri,” she said. “We have a problem. I don’t think . . .” She swallowed. “I don’t think Kesia is in Kaleo.”

  Davri shook his head as if to clear it. I don’t understand.

  She explained what Cheliem had said, staring at the water as the boat bobbed and swayed in the current.

  “I’m sorry,” Liviya said. “I never thought—I never even considered—”

  “But you can come to Avi’or with us,” Arten said. “You have some idea of where to look now, right? You know more.”

  A small flicker of hope flared in Miren’s chest. Kesia, Kesia, Kesia.

  Davri caught her eye. What do you want to do? he asked.

  “I want to keep looking,” she said. “We have to find her.”

  He nodded. Then we go to Avi’or.

  “We have supplies enough for four people,” Liviya said, “so we’ll need to ration, but we could do it. Rion will likely have the Crown’s Guard on alert for us, so we can’t double back. We should take advantage of our head start.”