Shadow & Flame

by Mindee Arnett

  All too soon they crested a rise in the trail and arrived at a small clearing with a narrow brook cutting across its middle. To the left of the brook, Valora waited, standing next to a solid stone altar, one no doubt conjured by an earthist. A fire burned across its top, the flames gyrating chaotically in the breeze that couldn’t seem to make up its mind which way it wanted to blow. Tira, Signe, Dal, and Yaron formed a circle around Valora, each standing at a cardinal direction: Yaron to the north, Signe to the south, Dal to the east, Tira to the west.

  Standing outside the circle were Bonner and Nadira, come to watch, she supposed. Or perhaps Nadira believed her skills might be needed. Kate swallowed at the thought, glancing furtively at Valora’s missing eyes, the sacrifice she had paid for the goddess’s sight. What price would Kate pay?

  Corwin came to a stop a few feet away from the circle and faced Kate. “You are to disrobe here.”

  Feeling the blood drain from her face, she gave a careful nod. Being naked in front of the others was bad enough, but somehow worse with Corwin, even though he’d seen her thus dozens of times. Doubt swirled inside her as she wondered how he would see her now, what comparisons he might make to the Sevan princess. But the moment she let the robe and shift drop to the dew-slicked grass, Corwin turned his back to her, facing Valora and the others in their circle. After a pause, Kate removed her moonbelt as well, and the loss of its weight left her feeling untethered.

  Valora raised both hands toward Kate, beckoning her forward. “Come, Kate Brighton, chosen to be the Paragon.”

  Kate hesitated half a moment, then forced her feet to carry her forward. She kept her sway stretched out, feeling the animals all around. They were her only source of comfort—and distraction.

  Kate’s skin tingled as she stepped into the circle, evidence of the magic already swelling. As she reached the center, Valora motioned for her to kneel. Kate dropped to her knees onto the soft, cool pillow of the everweeps in bloom here. At once, Valora began to speak, but it was in a language Kate didn’t recognize. At turns it sounded like music, then the wind, then the babble of the brook, the call of birds and the cries of animals, and finally the sound of the earth itself. Kate listened, sensing the meaning veiled in those alien words. They spoke of the goddess, her power, her care for humankind and for Rime. They spoke of sacrifice and courage, humility and victory.

  More and more Kate felt her skepticism growing inside her, leaving her cold and empty.

  Finally, Valora raised a hand to the hilt of the dagger belted at her side and pulled it free of the sheath. She turned to Yaron first, and he held out his arm, the sleeve of his tunic rolled up. With a quick motion, Valora ran the blade over the underside of his forearm, drawing blood. With her other hand, she withdrew a small wooden bowl from the folds of her robe and held it to Yaron’s wound, gathering a few droplets of blood. Once done, she turned right and repeated the process on Dal before moving on to Signe and finally Tira.

  Sheathing the knife, Valora turned to the stone altar and carefully tipped the bowl’s contents onto the tip of a branding iron lying in the fire. The flames hissed as the liquid touched them, and the sound made Kate flinch and sent her heartbeat to galloping. She understood what was coming next, and panic expanded inside her chest until she thought she might burst from the effort of holding it in.

  Closing her eyes, she reached out to the animals once more, drawing strength from them. She could even sense the horses penned nearby. They had always been a source of comfort even in the darkest times, and she leaned into them, letting their thoughts flow into her.

  But all too soon she opened her eyes again at the sound of Valora chanting. She looked at the altar to see a white light glowing inside the orange and red of the fire. It was painful to look at, but also beautiful, so mesmerizing she didn’t want to look away even though she was certain it would burn her. The others too were all staring, transfixed by what was happening. The ground beneath Kate’s knees seemed to tremble and the trees surrounding them to shake as if they longed to pull up their roots and move toward the light as well.

  Rather than grow quiet at the disturbance, the animals grew louder, the sound almost frenzied. Shadows moved overhead, and Kate glanced up to see a flock of ravens burst across the sky. Valora’s voice rose, becoming urgent, and so did the intensity of the white light, until finally it seemed to crescendo, and Valora grasped the end of the rod and pulled it free from the fire.

  The tip glowed so brightly it hid the shape of the brand. Even as Valora drew near Kate with it, she couldn’t make it out, her eyes aching from its intense light and color. Valora continued speaking in that strange language, and in her heart Kate understood it was Aeos, the language of the gods.

  But I don’t believe, she thought, managing to force her eyes closed again. This is only magic. There are no gods, no goddess, nothing beyond this life. Only—

  Kate screamed as the brand touched her skin. Pain exploded over her chest, the white-hot iron pressed against it, right over her heart, which pounded frantically. Agony tore through her body like a tidal wave, and she felt herself falling. Not just her body, but her whole self, mind and spirit swept away. Blackness filled her vision, and a moment later she became nothing. All sense of herself gone, like a candle snuffed out by the wind.

  Time stopped, Kate’s life suspended in this black void. She had no beginning and no end, just this ever-present now, a formless being in a formless space. But then slowly, the black began to brighten, and she felt herself being drawn back together, until she was whole and in her own body again.

  Only she was no longer in the clearing outside the dragon caves of Rime, but in a dark place full of a mist that swirled about her in shadowy eddies. As before, she was naked, but she barely noticed or cared. Even the black mark on the left side of her chest hardly drew her attention. The brand was the shape of a star shining in the night sky, indistinct but instantly recognizable. She touched a finger to it absentmindedly, feeling only cool, scarred skin beneath, the pain a distant echo.

  In front of her, the gray mist seemed lighter than before, and she walked toward it, feeling the strange give and flex of the ground beneath her feet. The light grew brighter with each step and the mist less thick until eventually she saw she was walking on a narrow path with nothing but utter, empty blackness to either side. It wasn’t ground beneath her feet, but wood the color of white marble. Not the sanded planks of a floor but the limb of a tree, one so large she was merely an insect traversing its length.

  On and on she walked, soon reaching places where leaves grew like giant white fans and where more limbs began to intersect with the first, turning the place into a jungle of white and black and gray. She walked around and over and through the leaves, continuing on toward that growing brightness ahead. As she walked, she sensed movement to her right and left. Turning her head, she spotted bright eyes staring at her through the darkness between the leaves. They weren’t human eyes or animal, and yet she recognized their shape, the dark slit of them like a snake, the outer black orbs surrounded by gray scales. There were nightdrakes here, all around, but they didn’t attack. They remained in those dark places, waiting and watching as Kate passed by them.

  Eventually the limb she traversed began to widen, and ahead it intersected with two other limbs equally as wide, a hole forming in the center of their convergence. Where there should have been more of that formless blackness was a pool of white light glistening like crystal in the sun. Small, curling strands of lightning danced across its surface. The light beckoned her forward, and unable to resist, she walked toward it.

  Reaching its edge, she heard a voice call out to her. It seemed to come from everywhere at once—the rustle of the white leaves, the dark spaces between them, the creak of the limbs, the whisper of the wind, and even the beat of Kate’s heart in her chest. Come, Kate Brighton, the light said. Paragon chosen. Come and lose yourself. Rise as something more.

  She stared down at the substance that was water and not w
ater, light and not light, something else altogether, nameless and powerful and great and terrible as well.

  “What do I do?” Kate said, and her voice sounded out of place, a clashing note in a harmonious symphony.

  Come, the light answered, growing infinitely brighter. She understood what she was meant to do, but as she raised one foot to step into the pool, fear gripped her heart and doubts flooded her mind. “What are you? What is this? What will happen?” Clang, clang, clang, the clash of her voice grew more pronounced. And as the dissonance spread, the light seemed to dim.

  When it finally answered her questions it wasn’t in words, but in a vision. Its surface grew clear, like glass, and Kate saw her own reflection staring back at her. She looked exactly the same as herself, save for the mark on her breast. In the pool, the starlight brand was no longer black, but glowing like the pool had glowed. It was alive somehow, alive and inside of her, a part of her. And she understood that, to be the Paragon, she would have to let this power inside her.

  But will there still be room for me? Kate gazed at the reflection and she could no longer recognize herself. Not the self that she knew when she looked in the mirror. This Kate was serene. This Kate was mighty and certain, a person who has never known doubt or hesitation or failure. Cold and apart, a vessel and tool, nothing more.

  That is not me.

  Come, the light called again as the mirror faded back into the glowing pool. Come. Surrender. Let go and be more.

  “No,” Kate said. “I can’t, I—”

  The light grew bright again, and she stepped back as the glowing, water-not-water substance rose up from the hole between the limbs like a dense, heavy fog. It swept over her, and for a moment she felt the light surge inside her, power like she’d never known. Joy, love, elation, every good feeling she had ever experienced in her life seemed to burst anew inside her now.

  And then just as abruptly as it had come over her, it was gone. She cried out at the emptiness it left behind, like her insides had been carved out. As she fell to her knees, the limb beneath her snapped in two and fell away, taking her with it.

  She was falling . . .

  Falling . . .

  Into darkness . . .

  Into death . . .

  Into nothing . . .

  She woke inside the caves once more, dressed in her shift and moonbelt and lying atop a pile of blankets. Her chest ached, and she raised a hand to it, trying to ease it. It wasn’t the brand, although she could feel the tender flesh there. This pain was beneath it, deeper, a place no hand could reach.

  “You’re awake.”

  Kate blinked, not recognizing the voice at first, but as she slowly pushed up into a sitting position she saw Valora sitting across from her, sightless gazed fixed on her unerringly. “What happened?”

  “The ritual failed.” She didn’t sound angry or sad, just disappointed, like a parent who’s watched a child fall, helpless to stop it.

  With her eyes suddenly burning, Kate looked away. “I failed.”

  Valora took a long time answering. “You made a choice.”

  Kate nodded. Come, the voice had said, let go and be more. She had refused, and yet it hadn’t felt like a choice, more like instinct, a thoughtless reaction. But that was ignorant, she knew, and childish. Even a choice made in the midst of fear was still a choice. She could’ve decided to step into that pool, but she hadn’t. Briefly, it had seemed as if the magic was making the choice for her when it had swept over her, but she saw now it was merely to show her what she’d refused, to give her a taste of something that would forever leave her thirsty.

  Kate pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. “What happens now?”

  Valora sighed. “As soon as you’ve recovered, you can head to Rin with Corwin.”

  “Wait, how long have I been asleep?” Kate said, alarmed. Surely days had passed since the ritual, if not weeks. She touched a hand to the brand on her chest again, where the skin had completely scarred over. Surely Corwin would’ve left without her. The threat was too great to delay so long.

  “Three days,” replied Valora.

  Kate pushed herself up into a standing position, wobbling on legs gone too long without use. “Why did he wait?” She didn’t bother asking how the brand could be so healed already. The answer there was simple enough—magic. She touched a finger to it again, remembering the way it had shone like a star when the power in that pool of light had come over her.

  “He’s been waiting for you, of course.” Valora slid off the chair she’d been resting on, standing up to her full height. She seemed taller than she had before, more present. And as Kate stared at her it almost seemed as if her face were glowing. “Even if he hadn’t wanted to, the Rising wilders wouldn’t have allowed him to leave without you.”

  Kate blinked in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  Valora shrugged a slender shoulder. “You are still the Wilder Queen to many of them. They didn’t like the idea of the king trying to pull off his plan without you there to ensure he protects their interests.”

  A wrench slid through her chest at the weight of such a responsibility. “That’s absurd.”

  “Is it?” Valora cocked her head. “Despite Corwin’s many redeeming qualities, he is still a Tormane, part of the blood that condoned the Inquisition. They have reason to be distrusting of Corwin by himself. But the Wilder Queen with him is something they can believe in.”

  But she was not with him, and never would be again. At least not in the way she had been and wanted still—if she were being honest with herself. But perhaps she could stand beside him as his wilder general instead of the companion she once hoped to be. She thought back on the past year, all the battles she’d fought. She’d been good at it. She could be good at it again.

  If she was willing to use her sway, to be the monster.

  The knot in her stomach tightened. “I understand.” Kate straightened, her legs growing stronger by the moment. “Then I best get ready.”

  Valora nodded. “So you should. But there is one thing more we need to discuss.” She bent toward a pile of blankets lying on the ground near her feet and retrieved a long, slender object wrapped in cloth. She held it out to Kate.

  Frowning, Kate stepped forward and took it, caught off guard by its weight that tugged her arms downward. “What’s this?” she said, even as she pulled back the cloth to reveal the weapon beneath, red steel the color of an open wound. Hellsteel.

  “You’ve one more choice to make,” Valora said. “Rendborne must be stopped. If you will not be the Paragon, then you must decide to be the Purge—or not.”

  A tremble slid through Kate’s body so hard she nearly dropped the weapon in her hands. “If I use this, all magic in Rime will die.”

  “So it shall.” A grimace slid over Valora’s lips. “But Rime can survive without magic. The nightdrakes will die, and we will dismantle our walls and live as the rest of the world does.”

  So Bonner and Nadira had been right—the Ruin would be the end of the drakes. She remembered them watching her in that other place as she walked along the limbs. Had it been real? Was that where they lived when they weren’t stalking the night? So many questions she didn’t have answers to. What was worse was knowing she could’ve had them, if she’d stepped into that pool. That ache expanded in her chest, and she took a breath, trying to ease it back.

  Kate fixed her gaze on the three prongs of the trident’s head. She tried to imagine it—a world without magic. Including my own.

  “I’ve already discussed using the Hellsteel with Corwin,” Valora said. “He wanted to do it himself, but I insisted it be you. The Paragon ritual might’ve been unsuccessful, but the brand will still offer you greater protection than anyone else. You are the only one who stands a chance of getting close enough to Rendborne to use it.”

  Shaking her head in dismay, Kate looked up. “You said I’ve still a choice to make, but it seems that this is the only choice left.” She turned the weapon in her hand,
feeling it grow lighter as she grew accustomed to it.

  “No, Kate,” Valora said. “There is always more than one choice. And I can only hope that you will make the right one in the end.”

  28

  Corwin

  THEY RODE HARD FOR RIN, pushing the horses to the limit of their endurance. What should’ve taken two days they managed in a day and a half, reaching the outskirts by nightfall. They could’ve made it into the city before the gates closed, but Corwin decided to wait until morning. He didn’t trust the reception the wilders would receive. Although he’d been absent for much of the Wilder War, he understood the wounds it had made, on both sides—ones that were a long way from healing.

  They made camp atop a barrow overlooking the city, another ancient relic like the cottage. As Corwin walked across the soft grass covering the top of the hill, in between the standing stones of its abandoned altar, he tried to imagine a world where the dead had been buried instead of burned, where there was no threat of nightdrakes feasting on the corpses. It was a world that might come again, if their plans came to fruition. He disliked the idea of Kate taking on Rendborne, but he’d long since given up trying to protect or control her—her choices were hers alone. Besides, the stories the Rising wilders told about her made her sound like the daughter of the god of war himself. She could hold her own in battle.

  But he was getting ahead of himself. He had to win over the Rimish lords first. No easy task, and one he feared even attempting. Riding into Rin tomorrow, he might be arrested and thrown in a prison cell to live out the rest of his life as a condemned traitor, supporter of wilders. He’d spent days thinking about what he would say, what he would do to convince them to join his side. He discussed strategy with Dal, Tira, Bonner, Genet, Yaron, anyone who would listen and whose opinion he trusted.

  Except for Kate. She’d been unconscious for so long after the Paragon ritual failed, and even more, he feared how the conversation would go. But he couldn’t put it off any longer. He needed her help tomorrow and could see no other way around it. Even so, he didn’t approach her until past nightfall, waiting until he spotted her standing by herself on the far side of the camp, looking out past the magestone barrier at the stretch of scrubland leading up to Rin. The city wall was aglow with wardstone lights, each one like a star fallen from the night sky.