by Trudie Skies
Mina stood. “I volunteer. I’ll become your High Priestess.”
The Housemen blinked at her.
“A priestess must be highly trained in our rituals with many years of service to the temple,” Leila said, her nostrils flaring. “Neither of which fit you.”
“I learn fast.”
“The High Priestess is expected to command Fire Walkers in battle,” Salasar said. “It’s no easy path—”
“You expect your tournament champion to fight. Let me fight alongside my own kind.”
Leila chuckled. “My lords, you cannot expect an untrained child to lead Fire Walkers. She’ll burn half our own men before the battle starts.”
A few Housemen added their own derision.
“She’s just trying to get out of roughing it up on the front lines,” Farzad Fellbond said with a snort.
Prince Ravel waved a hand. “Do not discount our champion. It is by her hand that the Fire Walkers gained their freedom to cause this war. By rights, she should be given the chance to fix her mess. Do you have the strength to lead Fire Walkers into battle, Lady Arlbond?” His eyebrow arched disbelievingly.
Unease rumbled through the bond.
“The path of a Fire Walker priestess requires celibacy,” Talin said.
Her skin flushed at the implication. The choice. Become a priestess or marry a foolish prince. Both could help the Fire Walkers, but only one path offered her freedom. And she’d be allowed to keep her sword; the first time she met Leila was when she sword danced in a faraway Dusland town.
Mina gazed across the Council chamber to the corner where Tira watched on from inside a lantern’s flames. Always watching. Her mother smiled and shrugged. Your choice.
Talin had asked her to consider the woman she wanted to be.
“This discussion is irrelevant, my lords,” Leila said. “Throughout history, the temple has approved our own leaders before presenting them to the Council. No one else understands the unique demands of running the Temple of Rahn and training its Fire Walkers like our experienced acolytes. Nor can the matters of the temple be left to those whose motives do not align with our kingdom’s laws.” Leila’s hardened stare moved to Mina, clearly marking her as one of those possessing such motives. “This is why you trust us to choose for ourselves and to choose wisely. If the Fire Walkers have no confidence in those who lead them, then they cannot be controlled effectively during times of war.”
Leila’s words stirred worried murmurs among the Housemen. None welcomed the threat of out-of-control Fire Walkers in the midst of battle.
Mina leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Then let the Fire Walkers choose.” She raised her brow in challenge at the former High Priestess. The Fire Walkers knew who’d won them their freedom—most of them did, anyhow.
But Leila merely smiled back, as though she knew something Mina didn’t.
Farzad Fellbond thumped his wine glass on the table. “This meeting is running in circles. Give them their gods-damn vote and be done with it. Since our Sword of Solus holds jurisdiction over the Solus temple, let him handle it. I’m sure the Council can trust in Lord Salasar’s… familiarity with Fire Walkers to agree on a suitable priestess.” He exchanged a knowing glance with the other Solander Housemen. They still remembered when Salasar displayed his own blood fire at the Solend.
Salasar scowled. “Fine. I’ll oversee a vote.”
“Don’t dally, Lord Salasar,” Prince Ravel said. “We have little time to prepare. Our Fire Walkers began this war. They will end it.”
Farzad Fellbond raised his glass in toast. “Hear, hear. Now can we wrap this meeting up? We have our queen to mourn.”
“Yes, we’ve all had a trying morning.” Talin rubbed his left hand across the bridge of his nose. “Let’s adjourn and meet once we have rested and dealt with our grief, and when our new High Priestess has been chosen. A lurrite will need to be arranged for our Queen as soon as possible.” He bowed his head toward Prince Ravel, who returned the respect. “The Temple of Rahn will also need time to adjust.”
The Housemen gathered their papers and shuffled out of the room. Alistar ran after his father. Mina wanted to speak with Talin to discuss what being a High Priestess meant, but the Guardian of Gai demanded his attention.
Leila strode from the chamber with her chin held high—as though she’d already won.
This wasn’t going to be easy, but Mina was the Fire Walkers’ biggest advocate. As High Priestess, she’d give them a voice Leila refused. As a Houseman of House Arlbond, she could carry that voice with weight. And as Talin’s daughter, the Council may listen.
All she needed to do was convince the Fire Walkers.
15
RAHN’S CALLING
In all of Mina’s childhood, she’d never expected to find the Temple of Rahn welcoming. At first, she’d looked upon those red-stained doors as a prison crawling with Sandair’s most horrifying monsters. Then, after discovering her own latent blood fire, she’d feared being locked inside, never being able to taste fresh air again. Talin had once tried to explain its purpose as a home to Rahn’s children, but she’d not been able to see it until she’d been forced to sleep under its roof.
She entered the warm embrace of the temple with Fez tucked inside her sahn. But when she reached the main sanctum, any illusion of calm was shattered. Hundreds of men, women, and children were crowded into the cavernous sanctum. Angry, confused Fire Walkers who thought they’d escaped this place for good, only to be rounded up again twelve weeks later. They all rushed at her.
“What’s going on? Why are we here?” one of them demanded.
She scanned the crowd for Leila—at least until the vote, she was still acting High Priestess, and this mob was hers to contain. But no help came.
The Fire Walkers erupted with questions.
Is the King dead?
Why are we here?
What happens if we leave?
Has the law been overturned?
Fez screeched at the commotion. He leaped from her sahn and ran for the tunnel.
A Solander woman jostled a small child in her arms. “They tried to snatch my baby! They threw me in here and tried to take her. My husband, he fought them off. They broke his nose and threw him in a cell. I don’t even know where he is!”
If Leila wasn’t here to calm her Fire Walkers’ fears, then Mina needed to. She raised her palms. “I’ll speak with the Sword of Solus and find your hus—”
“You can’t lock him away again! You swore!” It was Kamran’s mother. She held her boy close to her hip, his head still bandaged from where he’d been struck during the riot. “I won’t leave my son!”
“I understand your concerns. I’ll ask—”
“Are we going to war?” a Duslander yelled.
“Let me ex—”
“Where’s Leila? Who are you?” another demanded. “You’re nothing but a Houseman!”
“If you give me a chance, I’ll—”
The doors burst open. Boots marched into the sanctum—Salasar and a handful of his guards. The Fire Walkers shrank back. Each guard had a hand to his sword hilt and watched the crowd with a wary face. Only the Sword of Solus looked unfazed.
“This is a waste of my time,” he muttered. “Let’s get it over with.” He clapped his hands and his guards moved quickly to push the Fire Walkers away from the sanctum’s center and to the stone steps surrounding it.
Leila emerged from the tunnel next with three of her female acolytes. The Fire Walkers shuffled aside as the High Priestess gracefully took her spot at the center of the sanctum. Leila raised her arms. “War is coming.” Her voice cut through the Fire Walker’s hushed conversations. “We have been asked once again to fight for the glory of Rahn and our great kingdom. You will all have a part to play in the battles to come. You will burn for Sandair. You will bleed for her. However, I will not be leading you.”
The Fire Walkers broke out into fevered w
hispers: Why this? Why now?
Gods, was Leila trying to terrify them?
Leila continued over their panicked voices, “Though I have served you all diligently these past twenty years, my diligence was not enough to prevent tragedy. The Council of the Great Houses has seen fit to replace me on the eve of war. Whoever shall wear these robes must act as I have—in accordance with Rahn’s laws. The future of this temple rests in your hands.” She bowed and moved to one side.
The fevered whispering renewed and anxiety sparked in the dusty air. Leila made no attempt to calm the crowds, as though she fed off their fears.
It took Salasar’s booming voice to settle them. “What she said is true. You must all choose a new High Priestess to represent you. I’m not going to tell you who to choose—that’s on your heads. But choose wisely. And quickly—”
“I will test them,” Leila added. “To ensure only the brightest of Rahn’s acolytes rise to represent his children. If you feel Rahn’s calling, then step into his light.” Flame flared from Leila’s hand and spilled in a circle around the sanctum in one single whoof. Some of the Fire Walkers gasped and jumped back. Many just stared; their dark eyes hollow with despair.
They needed hope.
They needed to believe someone cared.
“I hope you’ll be there for them, Mina Hawker, when the kingdom burns.”
Mina hopped over Leila’s flames into the center. “I’ll serve as your High Priestess.”
Jeers echoed in the sanctum.
Leila waved them off. “A Houseman has stepped before you to declare allegiance to Rahn. Allow her to speak.”
The Fire Walkers muttered and exchanged wary glances. They repeated the word Houseman.
Most Fire Walkers standing here were city folk or street rats. No men in fancy clothes flashing gold stood among them. Certainly no Housemen.
This was her only chance to convince them she was on their side. “Yes, I’m a Houseman. But I wasn’t always. I grew up on the streets. I watched helplessly when my uncle was cut down for being a Fire Walker. I, too, am a Fire Walker. I’m not ashamed of it.” She rolled up her sleeves, showing off the silver tattoos, and let a flicker of flame burn in her palm. “And I’m your best chance of surviving a war none of us asked for.”
A tall, gruff-looking Duslander stepped to the edge of Leila’s simmering flames. “Since when do Housemen become priestesses?”
“Since now.”
“Why bother? Housemen want us dead.” He eyed up Salasar. “This war is just pretense.”
Mina shook her flame out. “What’s your name, my friend?”
“I’m not your friend,” he spat. “And Housemen deserve none of our respect.” The Duslander turned and jerked a thumb over his shoulder at thick scars splayed down his back. “Housemen did that to me in Khalbad’s temple because I tried to stop them raping a girl. She ran so they killed her. What respect should we have for men like them?”
“You’re from Khalbad?”
“Have you ever stepped foot in Khalbad’s temple, Houseman? They have a column in their sanctum where they chain Fire Walkers who don’t obey. Our High Priestess allowed it. Will you?”
Heat burned in her stomach and she glared at Leila. No emotion passed over the High Priestess’s face. No denial. No remorse. Mina had never heard of Fire Walkers being tortured in the temples, but after witnessing the cruelty of Housemen herself, she could believe it. Especially under the rule of House Khalbond. “I want you there with me when we pull that column down.”
The Duslander snorted in disbelief, but she meant every word.
A thin-looking Solander Fire Walker stepped beside him and waved casually. He reminded her of Raj with his twig-like arms. “I’m Bahri. I don’t mean to intrude, but Dahn doesn’t speak for all of us.” He pointed at her and glanced to the many faces watching. “She’s a Houseman, but she’s not like them. It’s because of her that we gained any freedom in the first place—”
“And for what?” The Duslander—Dahn—waved his arms toward the walls and ceiling of the temple. “To snatch that freedom away again! Look where we are!”
Some of the Fire Walkers murmured and nodded. Their angry glares made the heat rise in her blood. Mina glanced to Salasar, who picked dust from his sahn as though bored with it all, but Leila smirked. Fire Walkers held no love for Housemen. Mina understood that all too well.
“I was trapped inside the temple for being a Fire Walker, too,” Mina said. “You call me a Houseman, but I’m no different from you. From all of you.”
Dahn rolled his eyes. “Oh, spare me—”
“I was there,” another man spoke up. A round Gaislander. “At the tournament. I was there when the Prince poisoned us. I watched my own friends burn.” His voice broke. “I saw her argue against her own Housemen—against the Prince himself—for us.”
At least some of these men believed she’d done the right thing.
“We all heard the King’s declaration,” Bahri shouted to the crowd. “None of that would have happened if it wasn’t for her—for the Sand Dancer. Nothing would have changed. Those twelve weeks were a gift—”
“Nothing has changed!” Dahn snapped. “Don’t you see? Our freedom was never going to last. The Housemen were never going to allow it. And you think she has the right to saunter in here and declare herself our High Priestess? To lead us into a war that Housemen declared?”
Mina stepped to the edge of Leila’s flames. “I’m not asking you to like me, Dahn. I won’t even ask you to respect me. But as a Houseman, I will do everything in my power to protect you. All of you. Under my House, Fire Walkers were given their freedom. I can’t promise you that same freedom—yet. But my House will work toward it. Until then, what I can promise is that I’ll use what power I have to navigate the Council, to protect you from them. Yes, I am a Houseman. It’ll take a Houseman to understand them—and protect you from them.”
The anger in Dahn’s face slipped, if only for a heartbeat.
She shot a quick glance to Salasar to ensure she didn’t overstep, and his eyes were narrowed. No doubt if any other House was standing here as witness, she’d have something to answer for, but she’d long suspected Salasar hated Houseman games as much as she did.
Leila clapped. “Strong words. But can you prove them in the eyes of Rahn?” She beckoned Mina closer. “Come and test yourself against his power.”
Mina’s heart sped up. Speaking in front of the Fire Walkers had been a test, so what was this?
Fire swirled around Leila’s fists. “Only trained acolytes of Rahn possess the skills necessary to lead. If you wish to defend us, then summon a shield and show us how.”
A shield. Gods, Mina had never learned how to summon a shield or otherwise defend herself against blood fire. It had taken weeks of Jonan’s training just to maintain a steady flame, and they’d run out of time to progress further.
Samira and Saeed had observed her training—her failures. They’d have told Leila.
Mina had no choice but to try. She positioned her feet in the sand and thrust her fists out, ready to block. I am the master of my own self and this fire is mine to control. I can do this.
Fire flew toward Mina within the blink of an eye. She brought her fists close to her face and willed her own embers to spark. Heat surged through her veins, but not fast enough. Leila’s flames burned Mina’s sleeve and the fabric caught fire. She dove to the ground and used the sands to pat out the flames before they could do real harm.
Laugher filled the sanctum.
“I think we’ve all seen enough,” Leila declared.
Mina stomped to the edge of Leila’s flaming circle and blinked away hot tears. She’d failed in front of them all, just as Leila wanted. The roar of her own heartbeat thumped in her ears and she barely heard Leila call for other candidates to introduce and test themselves.
One, two, three female Fire Walkers she’d never seen inside the temple walked into the cen
ter. Each were able to summon a shield to guard against Leila’s flames, though from the angle Mina stood, she could see that Leila held back her power, allowing the other candidates to display their blood fire with finesse. Their smug smirks made Mina’s teeth grind. They were but puppets, all of them. Leila may have lost her position as High Priestess, but she’d seemingly found other ways of clawing back control.
Who acted the Houseman now?
Salasar patted her on the shoulder. “It’s for the best, child. The path of a high priestess is no life. Trust me. I speak from experience.”
“I think your wife would disagree.”
He huffed and stepped into the center of the sanctum. The chatter of the Fire Walkers hushed once more. “We’ll hold a vote on which acolyte to choose as your next high priestess. When I call each, you’ll vote by raising your flame. You hear?”
The Fire Walkers mumbled their assent. Compared to the Council, this way of voting seemed more… visceral. Mina considered ducking out of the final vote, but she needed to see which of Leila’s lackeys would be declared the new High Priestess. If only to know what new enemy she was up against.
Salasar called the first acolyte, and a smattering of flames sparked across the sanctum, including Dahn’s. More flames rose for the second acolyte, a Solander woman with a dour face, but they fizzled out for the third. Many of the Fire Walkers sat back against the stone steps with their arms crossed, and their faces spoke a truth Mina knew in her gut: this vote didn’t matter, so why vote at all?
“And for Lady Tamina Arlbond.” Salasar waved a dismissive hand at her.
One by one, Fire Walkers raised their arms and summoned Rahn’s light. Fifty, a hundred, two hundred… They burned so brightly, Mina couldn’t tell which fists the light emanated from. They were a forest of fire.
Across the sanctum, Dahn stared in disbelief. Bahri held his flaming arm aloft and grinned. Leila ducked into a bow, her flames snapping out, her hood hiding whatever anger seared through her.
Salasar gave her a wry smile. “It seems they’ve chosen their high priestess.”