by Trudie Skies
“He’s not in trouble, is he?”
“Not yet.”
The baker’s boy slid down the steps and joined a group of girls trying to light a bonfire. Mina watched him summon a flame with a snap of his fingers, then try to teach one of them how to do the same. He did have talent.
She turned her attention back to Garr. “Tomorrow, I’m leaving for Gaisland and I’ve been ordered to take a bodyguard. You’ll be acting as that guard.”
“Me?” He looked her up and down. “Are you ready to break your vow of celibacy so soon, Priestess? Well, I’m not surprised but I am flattered.”
She placed a hand on her hip. “The Council claims that rogue Fire Walkers are starting fires in Gaisland. I volunteered to investigate.”
“So you can track them down and murder them?”
“So I can prove that Fire Walkers aren’t responsible.”
He raised a brow. “What difference will that make? A Fire Walker killed the Hartnord king and brought on this war. No one can deny that. Who cares if few forest fires didn’t really turn out to be our fault? They’ll want us dead anyway.”
“I want to know if the man who killed the Hartnord king acted alone. If we can prove it, there may be some hope we can prevent this war.”
“Is that right?” Garr tapped his finger on his chin as if thinking. “Even if you could convince the Hartnords that one man alone assassinated their King, how do you convince your royals to forget the murder of their Queen?”
“I don’t know yet. But King Khaled listens to my father. Our first step is to find the truth.”
“And you think you’ll find your answer in some forest?”
“Yes.”
“Then why do you need me?”
“The Sword of Solus has ordered me to take an escort. You said you were the most powerful Fire Walker in this temple. Now’s your chance to prove it.”
He crossed a leg over his knee and leaned back. “So, you’ll drag me to your forest and stab me in the back? Sounds like the ideal place to bury a body.”
“If I wanted you dead, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I expect you ready to leave by dawn.”
“Dawn?”
“No complaints.”
“You really think you can stop this war, Priestess?”
“So long as I breathe, I’ll do all I can to protect my people. All of them.”
“Even if it meant defying your King?”
Defying royalty was her favorite pastime. “You wouldn’t be thinking of treason, would you?”
“Not me. I don’t want to die in some pointless war. Isn’t that enough?”
“You tell me. Can I trust you, Ash Maker?”
Light danced in those amber eyes. “I guess we’ll see.”
26
TO THE SOURCE OF DUSK
The Hartnord threw himself to the pristine marble floor of the throne room. King Khaled drew his sword.
“Where is she?”
The golden-haired man stared up at him with silver eyes.
My wife’s eyes.
“I don’t know.”
“Why did Reinhart do this?” Khaled placed the edge of his blade an inch from the Hartnord’s nose. “You’ll give me an answer, or by Rahn, I’ll find it in your blood.”
“She has fire magic,” the Hartnord gasped. “I saw it in her, plain as day. I see it in you, too.”
Gods.
Such words were blasphemy and treason combined. Khaled would lose his throne and then his head if the other Houses knew.
But the King questioned this prisoner alone, save only Salasar, Nazim, and myself as guards. All three of his wardens knew the truth. We needed to know in order to protect the King and act in his best interests. And the King knew our secrets in return. We all burned with fire. Even myself.
The King’s sword hand twitched. “You see blood fire with your Sight? And yet you saw fit to take my sister to your people, knowing they could see it?”
“I wanted them to see it.” The Hartnord’s voice cracked and tears slid down his cheeks. “I wanted them to see her beauty, to see that those who burn aren’t the monsters they fear. I thought… God forgive me, I thought it would bring our people together.” He hung his head. “I deserve death. I welcome it.”
I knew I should leave this fool to his fate, but he was our only chance of finding Princess Aniya alive—if he could be trusted to keep the King’s secret. And mine. “My King, if we are to find her, we need him and his Sight. He’s the only one who can lead us to Reinhart. He’s no use to us dead.”
Salasar scowled, and even Nazim shook his head with dismay. But Khaled’s amber glare softened for me. I alone dared nudge him. By some mercy of Lune, he listened.
“Will you serve me, Hartnord? Will you pledge your life and blood in my name and renounce your kingdom? That is the choice I offer you: service or death.”
The same choice Khaled had once offered me.
Resolve burned in the Hartnord’s silver eyes—the look of a man willing to cut through an entire kingdom and his own people, if it came to that. “I will do whatever it takes to find her, my King. I swear on my blood and my word.”
The King lowered his sword. “Then go and find my sister.”
The blood bond gently roused Mina awake. Only a single brazier burned in the women’s dormitory, and Tira was there, watching and smiling as always.
Princess Aniya had been a Fire Walker. Not a surprise, given her brother’s own blood fire. Was this why the Hartnords had killed her? It was uncomfortable watching history play out though Talin’s memories, but the bond had chosen to show her these dreams for a reason.
Mina slid off her stone bed and pulled her clothes on in the dim light, trying to keep the noise down. Her bags were packed—all she needed were her head scarf and sword.
As High Priestess, she could have taken Leila’s room for her own, and truth be told, she would have preferred the privacy. But sleeping among the others helped build trust; she didn’t want them to see her as unapproachable like Leila. In the few days she’d spent as High Priestess, the temple had become filled with comfortable blankets, clothes, better food, musical instruments, and other minor comforts of home. Samira had argued against every one.
Mina was tempted to say goodbye to Fez, but he was likely to yip and whine and wake too many people up. Besides, she wasn’t exactly sure where in the temple Kamran usually slept. She’d entrusted the baker’s boy with Fez’s care, and the fox had seemed perfectly content to follow him away to bed last night.
The blood bond pulled her outside into the pre-dawn Rahnlight. Talin stood waiting for her, holding Luna’s reins. Iman held the reins to her own gelding, packed for her return to Arlent. And Jonan had brought a mangy-looking horse from the Keep’s stables for Garr.
Her family.
Iman grabbed her in a crushing hug. “You better travel safe, girl. You hear me?” She held Mina at arm’s length. “Swear you’ll not risk anything foolish. Our House already has war heroes. It doesn’t need any more.”
Mina made a face. “I just want to keep my Fire Walkers safe. That’s all.”
“And you will.” Talin placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. His eyes looked darker, heavier, as though he hadn’t slept in days. “Listen to your aunt and don’t go running off to play Malik the Merciless,” he said with a wry smile.
“If there really are rogue Fire Walkers in Gaisland, I can’t promise danger won’t find me.”
At that, Talin pulled her into a hug. “I wish I could travel with you,” he murmured. “But you’re a woman now, and I trust you to do what’s right. We all have work ahead.”
Iman tapped her chest. “We may be apart, but we’ll always be together through the bond.”
“The sands travel with us,” Jonan added.
The bond warmed with the combined essence of House Arlbond, but a chill settled in Mina’s bones. With Iman riding south and Mina heading
west, they would be farther apart than ever. And this would be her first trip alone without Talin to guide her, or Fez nestled in her sahn.
If she found the rogue Fire Walkers, what would she do?
Kill them?
Join them?
Gods.
The sound of approaching hooves interrupted their last-minute House meeting. Two horses came trotting down the hill. Alistar and Raj.
Talin dug a coin pouch from his sahn. “For your journey. Don’t dally in Gaisland. The Council is not known for their patience.”
Iman shoved Talin aside and grabbed Mina for one last hug. “Though, if you get time, girl, bring back some of Grenai’s finest. Nazim owes me a bottle.”
After stating their goodbyes, the three of them left as Alistar and Raj drew near.
Raj dismounted his horse and jogged over to her with a giddy smile. “Ali says you’re travelling to Grenai. So am I! We can go together. Um, if you don’t mind.”
“You’re welcome to join us. Are you headed back home?”
“Not yet. I’m helping to coordinate the efforts of their Temple of Gai and ours.”
“It’s Lune’s luck we’re heading the same way,” Alistar said. He sat on his horse, dressed for travel. “All set to go, Arl? I’ve got some food, but we’ll do a little hunting on the way.” He plucked a bow that was slung over his shoulder.
“Are you going to introduce me to your friends, Priestess?”
Mina jumped. She drew her sword and spun it at the voice.
Garr. He slid out of the shadows with his brows raised. “Is this how the High Priestess treats her greatest Fire Walker? I feel threatened.”
She shoved Hawk back into its scabbard. “If you don’t want to lose your head, try not sneaking up on people.”
Garr ignored her and admired her horse. “A fine beast. Strong legs, but a nasty temper.” He rubbed a hand along Luna’s neck.
“She doesn’t have a temper.”
“I wasn’t talking about the horse.” He winked.
She shoved the reins of the mangy mare into his hands “This one is yours. I hope you know how to ride as I’m not waiting for you to learn.”
Garr appraised his horse and frowned. “So you are trying to murder me. This thing will throw me off and break my neck before we leave the city.”
Which was likely Jonan’s intention.
She turned back to Alistar and Raj. “This is Garr. That’s Alistar of House Myrbond, my sorran, and Rajesh of House Enaibond. He’s a Green Hand.”
“More Housemen? Wonderful.”
“Your eyes,” Raj gasped. “Are you related to the Bright Solara?”
“He’s an Ash Maker,” she hurried to say, before Garr could open his mouth and say something foolish.
“An Ash Maker?” Alistar shifted in his saddle. “The kind that drinks the blood of children?”
“Only when I’ve run out of ale,” Garr quipped.
“Drink blood?” Raj asked.
“So the tales go,” Alistar said. “Why are we bringing one with us?”
Garr thumped his chest. “Because I’m the best Fire Walker in the temple and someone needs to burn your enemies. Might as well be me.”
Alistar cringed and shared an uneasy glance with Raj.
She understood their fears. Ash Makers stole blood to extend their own life and cast their dead into the sandsea to become wraiths, or so the tales said. She didn’t want to know how true those tales were. “Salasar said I needed to bring a guard, so he’s coming with us. Are we ready to leave?”
Garr swooped a bow, though his smile was all trouble. “As the High Priestess commands.”
How soon would she regret bringing Garr on this trip?
The city of Solus sat atop a low mountain that rose from the Lapis Sea. Once out of the city, Mina and her companions followed the sea’s northern coast until the Solands opened up to a vast green land. Mina breathed in crisp air through her headscarf as the wind whipped past. She’d never ventured this far north before.
Beside her, Alistar rode on a roan mare. Like her, he faced into the wind with a laugh in his throat. Raj was a skilled rider, to her surprise, and Garr even managed to control his beast and keep pace, though it tried to buck him off a few times and kept veering off course.
This was the adventure she’d always dreamed of: she was Malik the Merciless on a quest across the land to defeat evil with her two closest friends.
Alistar acted as their guide. Just as she knew the desert—what dangers lurked in the dunes, when to rest from Rahn’s heat, and how to conserve water—Alistar knew the plains. The land here was rocky and the danger came not from unstable sand dunes, but from jagged outcrops of stone, pitfalls, and streams. Alistar had mapped the most direct route to Gaisland. No towns, no inns, no comforts save what the gods could offer them. At least they could follow the road west for another few hours yet before heading out across the open land. As long as Rahn hung in the sky, they would stop only to rest and water their horses.
“Can we slow down?” Garr called out from behind, once Rahn’s heat shone from above. “This wonderful beast is giving me a bad back.”
Mina slowed Luna to a trot and signaled the others to do the same. The road remained quiet except for the odd merchant wagon travelling the opposite direction toward Solus. Out on the plains, they would see horsemen galloping on patrol in service to the Sword of Solus. Raiders were creatures of the plains as well as the desert.
“So, what’s a Bosan doing this far east?” Garr called out, breaking the silence. “Hunting for Sandarian gold?”
“I was born in Sandair, not that it’s any of your business.”
“What about you?” Garr called to Raj. “You’re a Green Hand. You heal people?”
“Um, that’s right.”
“And the three of you met in the Academy when our High Priestess was a little boy?”
How did he know that? She hadn’t mentioned it. “Concentrate on your horse.”
Garr yanked his reins and the horse swerved. “Just trying to make conversation. The three of you are damper than a Bosan’s armpit.”
Alistar scowled over his shoulder.
If Garr was going to make conversation their entire journey to Gaisland, then she may just take up Jonan’s suggestion and push him off the nearest ravine.
Up ahead, she spied a stable with golden banners adorned with horseshoes. She recognized the color from the Keep and the Council meetings.
“House Nasbond,” she called. “Talin says they’re the finest horse rearers in Sandair. Luna came from one of their stables.”
But Alistar still pouted and Raj sat in uncomfortable silence. It seemed Garr had spoiled the idea of conversation entirely.
Garr caught her glaring and grinned. He cleared his throat and began to sing.
“My love was a Fire Walker with a heart made of flame. I wooed her by candlelight but she wouldn’t speak her name. The smoky fire in her eyes turned me hard as a rock. And when I tried to kiss her, she reached down and burned my—”
“Will you stop!” she snapped.
“If you don’t like my song, Priestess, go ahead and sing your own.”
“Um, I know some songs,” Raj offered.
“No more singing!”
“Let him sing. He’ll scare away the mountain lions,” Alistar said.
“And attract every raider between here and Gaisland?”
“Like those, Priestess?” Garr pointed ahead.
A thin line of smoke danced on the horizon. Trouble. She spurred Luna’s flank and galloped ahead. Alistar cursed and gave chase.
The smoke led them to a Nasbond stable engulfed in flame. Panicked men ran from the building, calling out for water. Ashes floating in the air made her eyes sting, but it was the smell that truly hit her—burned meat.
She brought Luna to a halt, her grip tight around the leather reins.
Burning horses screeched and writh
ed on the ground as stable hands tried to end their suffering. Thank the gods it was horses and not men, but who would do such a thing?
Three men approached Mina on horseback. Each wore a bronze scale breastplate over leather. Not guardsmen, but not raiders either. Their armor was far too nice for either. Housemen, then. As they neared, she noted a turquoise sahn beneath each man’s breastplate. House Sarabond.
“Where have you ridden from, my lord?” There was bitter anger in the rider’s voice, but not, Mina guessed, at her or her companions.
“We left from Solus at Rahn’s rise. What happened here?”
“Have you seen any fires along the way? Campfires or burning bushes? We hunt a runaway Fire Walker.”
Her heart began to race. “A Fire Walker did this?”
Raj spoke up: “Do you need a Green Hand? I’m from the Temple of Gai.”
The horseman inclined his head. “Any assistance would be welcome.”
Raj dismounted, dug out a pack from his saddlebags, and ran for the stables. Alistar ran after him to help.
“Did the Sword of Solus order this pursuit?” she asked.
“Indeed, my lord. Lord Salasar insists no Fire Walkers escape to join the rebels.”
If the rebels even exist. “Tell me everything you know.”
“You needn’t worry yourself, my lord. We can—”
“I am Tamina of House Arlbond, High Priestess of the Temple of Rahn. I travel with my sorran, Alistar of House Myrbond, and…” Gods, what name could she give for Garr? Bodyguard? Pain in the—
“Lord Garr of House Arlbond,” he said with an exaggerated impression of what she’d once imagined a plumped-up Houseman to sound like.
She forced a smile. Rahn would fall from the sky before Garr joined her House.
The horsemen looked skeptical. Gods, Garr couldn’t play a lord dressed as a street rat, and no one expected to see a priestess in leather and a sahn! She pulled Salasar’s orders from her sahn and held them out. “From your lord.”
The horseman examined the scroll and returned it with a frown. “Do you intend to join us on this hunt, High Priestess?”