Fireborn (The Dark Dragon Chronicles Book 2)

by Ripley Harper

  “Those aren’t a bunch of freaks, Jess. They’re real people with real lives, each as important to them as your own life is to you.”

  The sense of responsibility is overwhelming. Suffocating.

  “I want to help them.”

  “I know. And that’s good, because you’re the only one who can.”

  “Do you think it will work? Will my firemagic be strong enough?”

  “If you could send Jack Pendragon into his own fireplace, I have no doubt you can send these people back to their homes and families.”

  “What if they get worse after seeing my shine again?”

  “They can’t get any worse, I think.”

  Daniel’s mother is slim and delicate and a whole head shorter than me. But her eyes are so hard that I find it difficult to look at her.

  “I’ve never done it on purpose before. The other times it just happened.”

  “It didn’t just happen. According to that extract from the Codex, firemagic is associated with the contrasting emotional states of rage and calm. On each previous occasion, you tapped into the anger you experienced or which you felt present in those around you. But rage is a destructive emotion, and we need you to remain in control tonight. So this time I want you to try something different. Within you is a deep well of power that you can draw on at any time. Try to find the calm center hidden within your deepest self. The magic will follow.”

  There is something so familiar about her words that I almost smile. “You sound a bit like Gunn.”

  “The wisdoms Gunn taught you have been at the heart of keeper lore for centuries.”

  “Oh.” I try to ignore the sudden, sharp sense of betrayal. Of course the stuff he taught me wasn’t something special, shared just between the two of us.

  Only an idiot would think that.

  I clear my throat. “So what now? Should I try to meditate?”

  “Perhaps. Must I send Gunn in to help you?”

  “No. That’s okay.”

  She gets up. “I’ll leave you to it then. If you’re about to light up with the shine, I should get Noah away from here immediately.”

  I appreciate her confidence in my powers, even if it does add to the pressure I’m already feeling. “I’ll do my best,” I say as she leaves the room.

  “Don’t do your best. You’re a firemaster now. Do it right.”

  It’s about an hour later. I’m sitting on the floor with my legs crossed and my eyes closed. I’m trying to meditate but it’s not going well. Or rather, it’s going the way it always goes when I try to meditate: I’m feeling like a total loser who can’t control my thoughts or calm my mind in the slightest.

  What’s more worrying is that there’s absolutely no glimmer of magic, no sign of that “ancient presence” in my blood. And if I’m going to order all the people outside to leave me alone and get on with their lives, I’d better start tapping into those “genetic memories” pretty damn soon.

  I try to forget my surroundings, to focus on nothing but the still, deep well of power within me.

  But it’s impossible.

  Against my closed eyelids, I keep seeing Antoni Michel’s sunburnt, desperate face. The businessman from Warsaw, whose old life is nothing to him now. With every deep, conscious breath, I think of the Canadian couple and their daughter. Susan, the baby who can’t remember her own mom or dad. I think of the woman in the black suit who arrived by helicopter, begging at Ingrid’s knees to see me. I think of the old man who broke my window with his bare hands. Of peering through my curtains and seeing only blood and broken glass.

  After a while I give up.

  I don’t focus on my breathing and I don’t try to find the deep well of stillness inside me. Instead I think about all the people outside, all of them needing me so desperately. All those people with all those lives. So vulnerable and so broken and so beautiful.

  All of them burning.

  Burning with the fire of lust, with the fire of hate, with the fire of delusion… Burning with birth, with aging and death, with sorrows, with lamentations, with pains, with grief, with despairs…

  I feel the power as it hits my veins, and I don’t fight the sudden, delicious rush of strength. But neither do I allow myself to give in to it completely.

  The power is gorgeous and rich and mine.

  But I am not a child.

  I don’t have to gorge myself on its lushness like a human toddler greedily devouring an ice-cream.

  I can wait.

  As I feel my body starting to loosen, I get up from the floor, my anxieties gone, my mind one hundred percent lucid.

  Oh, and then.

  The blast of energy that hits my body as I draw myself up to my full height makes me shudder with pleasure. I am acutely aware of the floor beneath my feet. The air in my lungs. The strength in my muscles. The blood in my veins, warm and rich. My heart beating slowly and steadily.

  I have a heart. And muscles. And lungs. And feet.

  I am a living organism, uniquely adapted to survive on this planet.

  I am perfect.

  Invincible!

  The thought makes me laugh out loud with sheer joy. A soft, sweet, girlish sound.

  And then I remember.

  *

  When I leave the room, I am myself. I am Jess.

  But the power in my blood is also real. Also me.

  I feel it singing through my veins in a glorious, unstoppable current of sheer magic, and as I open the door, the air seems sweeter, the lights brighter, the darkness deeper.

  I feel better than I’ve ever felt before. Light and relaxed and carefree and good.

  When Ingrid sees me, she smiles widely and steps out of my way. “Well done, little one. I knew you could do it.”

  The bright white flames of my keeper’s magic burn stronger than ever, I note with satisfaction. And although her spiritfire remains muted, the dark blacks that leeched her energy and perverted her true self are turning into rich browns. I nod my approval. The guilt she now feels is not the senseless, self-pitying kind—it is a rich source of learning, and it is helping her to change.

  “You have come a long way since I last looked upon you, keeper,” I tell her.

  “Do you think so?” Her tone is too cautious to be hopeful.

  “I can see it clearly. Your journey is not over, but you are on the right path, and I trust that you will have the strength to see it through.”

  Then I turn my attention away from her and focus on the task at hand.

  In the living space of this humble abode, nineteen of my vassals are kneeling on the floor. Their inner fires have grown so astoundingly huge and so brilliantly bright that it seems as if this tiny dwelling is about to burst into flames.

  “Follow me!” I command, leading them out into the desert.

  Outside, the beauty of the evening is almost enough to undo me completely. Now that our own star is hidden, the others can be seen far more clearly, even with these weak human eyes. And, ah! The greatness of the space in which we dwell, for now, makes my head spin with longing and nostalgia and hope and despair!

  For a bittersweet moment, I allow myself to remember what it felt like to be free.

  When all my vassals are prostrate before me, most lying flat on the ground, face-down in the ecstasy of their submission, I close my human eyes against the beauty of the night and I look upon them with the true sight, so I can know exactly what I am dealing with here tonight.

  Ah, yes. Of course.

  Now I remember.

  I smile my understanding into the darkness, pleased. There is nothing wrong with these supplicants, nothing to be mended or restored. They are flawless in every way. Changed they might be, but this is a precious and much longed-for change. They have given up the burden of their painful human individuality to become my limbs and my senses in this world.

  It couldn’t have come at a better time, now that I am almost ready.

  “Welcome,” I tell them. “Men and women of my service. I h
ave long awaited you, and I accept your observance gladly. You will be my eyes and my ears in this world, my swords and my shield!”

  There is a grateful murmuring under my vassals as my handfire grows brighter in each of them.

  “Together we will face this coming battle. I honor your sacrifice and accept your lives as adequate payment for that which you owe me and mine.”

  There’s a cry of joy from those kneeling on the floor.

  And then a cough, close by.

  “Um… So, I think we might be going a little off message here.”

  I open my human eyes to find a boy standing next to me, his spiritfire blazing with a beautifully pure silver hue. He stands upright and looks straight at me, as if he does not fear my wrath, and when he speaks, his words are of a kind that I cannot quite make sense of.

  No.

  Wait.

  I blink.

  Daniel is standing next to me, and I am Jess.

  On the desert floor in front of me, people are kneeling or lying flat, their faces pressed against the sand.

  As the world spins on its axis, I fight to remain conscious of the many realities I inhabit. It is so difficult that I have to grit my teeth against the pull of my own power.

  “The magic in my blood is astoundingly powerful,” I tell the boy standing next to me. “I do not know how long I will be able to remain the girl you have known.”

  “You don’t have to be that girl. All I ask is that you don’t forget her completely.”

  I am stunned by his boldness.

  “You have a right to ask this of me?”

  “Yes. Because tomorrow you will be Jess again, and if you do something tonight that she can’t live with tomorrow, it will hurt all of us.”

  I bristle at the familiarity of his tone, but I nonetheless accept his answer. Even as I fight to clear a path through the shapes and colors and scents of all these spinning realities, I realize that the words coming from a spirit so pure must be wise.

  “It is difficult for me to remember the girl’s existence when my presence enlarges,” I say. “I remember too many other things, and what I remember is of such significance that the rest fades away.”

  “I get it,” the boy says, his spiritfire burning with the purest silver blaze I have ever seen. “Right now it’s difficult for me too. I kind of feel like someone who ran into Batman at the local Starbucks; it’s all I can do not to scream hysterically and beg you for a selfie.”

  I throw my head back, shaking with laughter.

  “Oh!” The action is so unfamiliar that I lift my hand in astonishment, touching my open mouth, my teeth.

  My laughter seems to give him courage. “Trust me. You didn’t come out here to take these people’s lives as payment for what they owe you.”

  “I did not? Why am I here then?”

  “You came to set them free.”

  “Free?”

  “You were going to order them to go back to their homes and families.”

  “Why would I do that? They are here to serve me!”

  “Dude. Remember Antoni from Poland? Remember baby Susan?”

  A wrench in reality.

  A painful, mind-shattering blast.

  And then staggering, unbelievable clarity.

  “You know, you have a way of saying ‘dude’ that’s like the best get-a-grip speech anyone has ever heard, summarized into a single syllable.”

  “Jess?”

  “Yeah, I’m back. Like, totally back.”

  “You’re still shining like crazy though, so it probably won’t last long.”

  I look up at the breathtaking beauty of the night sky. “Oh, Daniel. You have no idea how amazing everything looks while I’m like this. It’s like the whole planet is alive, and breathing and –”

  “Jess! We don’t have time for this! You can go into full queen mode again at any moment, and I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

  “Do what?”

  He gives a high, hysterical laugh, a sound I’ve never heard from him before. “Yeah, so idly chatting to you while you’re lit up to your full shine is a lot harder than it looks. I’m blocking you like crazy, but the impulse to throw myself at your feet is getting stronger by the second.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. Just free these people so I can get out of here.”

  I look at the worshipping bodies all around me. “Freeing them isn’t going to be as easy as we thought. I can’t just order them back to their lives. This isn’t normal shine-sickness. Something went wrong with their inner fires; they’ve been changed.”

  “Changed how?”

  “I saw it all so clearly earlier, but now it’s difficult for me to grasp completely.” I try to open my mind a little, careful not to lose myself again. “They are not individuals any longer,” I say slowly as a glimmer of understanding dawns. “The outer fires of their magic and their spiritfires have merged into my handfire. They are now mine to command—my eyes and my ears and my limbs in the world.”

  “Can you fix them?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Try.”

  The note of desperation in his voice makes me turn my true sight on him.

  “Get away!” I cry when I see that his bright silver blaze is dimming. “Get away from me now. It’s beginning to happen to you too.”

  “I don’t know if I can anymore.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I tried my best to block your power. I used everything inside me.” He sounds resigned, and with every word his spiritfire loses more of that rare silver color as the white sparks of his as yet unlit magical fire bleed into it. “But it wasn’t enough. I’m too weak; I haven’t claimed White yet and I can’t… “

  “Daniel?”

  “It’s too… Please…”

  I know the exact moment he gives in, because for a brief second his eyes roll back in his head and then he’s beaming at me, a delirious smile of pure ecstasy on his face. “My queen!”

  He sinks to the ground, sobbing with relief and happiness.

  “Shit!”

  I reach out to him instinctively, but before my hand touches him something inside me pulls me back sharply. I cannot touch him now. Not if I want him at my side instead of at my feet in the war to come.

  We need this young Skykeeper.

  A sharp inner jerk, a painful twist in reality itself, and then I am Jess no longer.

  I am something far more complex, something that has lived many lives and worn many faces. And all of us now understand that this boy must be saved. That he is important.

  How to save him?

  It is simple. The two fires inside him must be separated again.

  Will that work for the others too?

  They are valuable resources not to be wasted.

  They are people with their own lives.

  Leave them be. Save the Skykeeper boy.

  I will save everybody or nobody at all.

  A vague sense of unease. Then: approval.

  We have known very few others like you, and they lived a very long time ago.

  Tell me how to separate the fire of his magic from his spiritfire.

  Laughter.

  You are the firemaster. You do it.

  Chapter 19

  Not only does fire give mankind power over nature, it also protects humanity against the otherwise all-powerful gods. In many ancient traditions, the bringers of fire are thus viewed as the saviors of mortal men and women, their champions against the wrath of the immortal gods.

  These heroes may take animal form, such as Coyote in certain Native American traditions, or the mantis who stole fire for the Basarwa people in Southern Africa. But mostly they are seen as gods or god-like: legendary heroes like Prometheus, the Titan of Greek mythology who stole fire from the gods to benefit man.

  From Myth, History, and the Order of Keepers, by Sofia Rodriguez (2000)

  When I open my eyes, Sofia is sitting next to my bed, reading. I mus
t have made some sound because she looks up from her book immediately.

  “Hi there. Welcome back.”

  I sit up in bed, stretching. “How long was I out for this time?”

  “Seven days and one night.”

  “It’s a whole week later?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why so long?”

  She smiles. “Because you did good, Jess. You became something this world has never seen, at least to my knowledge, and it took a lot out of your body. You needed your rest.”

  I rub the sleep out of my eyes. “What do you mean? What did I become?”

  “A firemaster.”

  Her crooked grin is so familiar that I can’t help smiling back. But her words make me vaguely uneasy.

  “All those people. They’re okay now?”

  “More than okay.”

  “And Daniel?”

  “See for yourself.” She walks to the door, opens it just wide enough to put her head through. “Daniel! She’s awake!”

  He races into the room a second later, jumps onto the bed, gives me a rough hug and then falls flat on his back next to me, dramatically, as if he’s been shot. “Dude! I’m so glad you’re finally back! I’ve been dying to speak to you. You were so awesome! Like –” he makes an exploding motion with his hands next to his head. “Mind. Completely. Fucking. Blown.”

  I smile at him, bemused.

  “It was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen! The coolest thing anybody’s ever seen: a fully-certified, A-grade, goddamn firemaster at the top of her game!”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Yes!” He looks almost hurt when he sees my skeptical expression. “Of course! You were so kick-ass ama-a-a-azing that I’m still trying to recover from the sheer awesomeness of it all. It was like… Like Gandalf had a love child with Danearys Taergeryen and that kid trained as a Jedi before swallowing a nuclear bomb! Only better!”

  “I have no idea if that’s an insult or a compliment.”

  “Of course it’s a compliment! Are you fucking insane?”

  “Daniel. Please.” Sofia sounds exasperated. “I know you’re excited, but you need to watch your language.”

  “Okay. Sorry.” He turns his head so his mom can’t see him rolling his eyes. “How much can you remember?”

  I try to think back. “I remember the first part really well. After that it all becomes a bit hazy.”