Flicker of the Flame: A YA Epic Fantasy

by Evelyn Puerto

  “Never happened before, that I’m aware of, but you don’t need to worry. A few of the others were found in the desert, dead of snakebite or half-eaten by desert cats. Even if the survivors make it to water, they’ll either be recaptured or killed by bandits or pirates.” He studied her face. She seemed genuinely surprised. So she hadn’t heard about Tereka’s escape. Good. “Poales Hua was with her as well.”

  “One of the southern traders?”

  “So it seems.”

  She toyed with her fan, twirling it between her fingers. “Why were you informed of this?”

  “Why? Because Tereka is from my jurisdiction. She might return here.” He tipped his head to the side. “Most likely, she’ll try to contact her father. Do you know where he is?”

  Juquila rang a bell. The door opened and a clerk entered. “Tirk. Fetch the route master’s schedule for this week.”

  Tirk moved to the side table and shuffled the documents. “If you please, here it is.”

  “I need to know where your father is, where he was last week, and where he plans to go next week.” She pointed to the side table. “Quickly, now. The ephor is waiting.”

  “I’m most interested in trips to the south or the direction of Utoro,” Kaberco said.

  “If you please.” Tirk tapped the schedule with his forefinger. “Da was in Attu last week, but it doesn’t look like he went on to Pir Bakran. This week he went to Shinroo, due back tonight. He’s filed papers for North Rivash for next week.”

  Kaberco nodded. Tarkio didn’t seem to be searching the towns to the south or trying to rescue the girl, but he’d have to keep an eye on him to make sure. Without help, Tereka would most likely die in the desert. “I’m sorry to have brought you bad news.”

  “Tereka acted in a way that jeopardized safety and fairness.” Juquila shrugged. “What is there to say for her?”

  The woman had no feeling for the plight of her niece. Kaberco dropped his gaze, wondering if Juquila was simply colder than he thought, or perhaps knew that Tereka was no relation of hers at all.

  55

  Hammering on his door echoed the throbbing in Tarkio’s head. He groaned and rubbed his fingers over the tense spots above his eyes. “Now what? I’m home less than an hour and people can’t leave me alone.”

  Waukomis and Kemet stared at the door. “Expecting anyone?” Waukomis asked.

  “Just you two.”

  Tarkio stood up stiffly and shifted his weary bones to the door. He flung it open, muscles tensed and jaw clenched, ready for a confrontation with an angry vendor. He let out a gasp and froze in place, his hand still on the door.

  A wild-eyed Tirk stood on the doorstep, a sheen of sweat glinting on his face. “Da, I need to talk to you.” He pushed his way past Tarkio into the house.

  “If you want to.” He closed the door and looked his son over. Tirk was pacing across the kitchen, twisting his hands together. “My boy, what’s wrong?”

  “It’s all my fault,” Tirk said. “How could I have done such a thing?”

  Was his guilt over Tereka driving him mad? Tarkio pulled a chipped mug from a shelf. He filled it with tea and shoved it toward his son. “Drink.”

  Tirk took a gulp and cradled the mug in his hands. Tarkio glanced at Waukomis, who shrugged. Kemet crossed his arms and regarded Tirk with an icy stare. Tarkio waited until Tirk’s breathing steadied. He pulled out a stool and gestured for him to sit. “Now, tell me what’s going on.”

  Tirk dropped onto the stool and shook his head as if trying to clear it. “Well. Today I was sent on an errand to the archives, to make sure they were all in order. Some of the clerks can’t seem to keep the dates straight.”

  “Right.” Tarkio took a sip of his tea.

  “While I was gone, Kaberco came to see Aunt Juquila.”

  Tarkio set his mug down. “And?”

  “I didn’t know until I got back from the archives. The others told me. A ledger I needed was in Aunt Juquila’s office, but I didn’t want to just barge in. So I listened at the door for a good time to interrupt.”

  “Go on.”

  “They talked about the usual, guardsmen keeping the caravans safe. Somehow they started talking about Tereka.”

  “What did they say?” Kemet asked.

  “Aunt Juquila talked about how Tereka’s been a troublemaker from the start.” He glanced at Tarkio, then looked away. “And that she gets it from you.”

  “Him?” Waukomis snorted. “When has he ever been a troublemaker?”

  Tirk stared at the table. “She said Da’s been unfaithful to Mam, and probably has quite a few other children all over Tlefas.”

  Waukomis burst out laughing. “She said that, did she? That’s as good a tall tale as the one about Marka the talking duck.” He shook his head. “Tirk, ask any trader. Your da was never known to take advantage of his time on the road for any extra fun. Never.”

  “Then why would my aunt say that?” Tirk wrinkled his forehead.

  “Why, indeed.” Tarkio spoke gently. “What else did she have to say?”

  “It wasn’t what she said. It was what Kaberco said.”

  “Do tell.” Waukomis leaned forward, his eyebrows raised.

  “He said Tereka was taken to the copper mines.”

  “What?” Tarkio, Waukomis, and Kemet spoke at the same time.

  Kemet’s jaw dropped and he stared at Tirk. “How can this be? There’s never supposed to be any word of the taken.”

  Of course, that wasn’t entirely true. Tarkio flicked a glance at Waukomis, who nodded. They’d once heard enough to know that not all who were taken died. And it seemed Waukomis had wisely never shared that information with his son.

  “Well, Kaberco knew something.” Tirk spat the words as if using them as weapons. “And there’s more. He also said Tereka was a troublemaker in the prison camp. Some kind of insubordination. She and the others who were involved were sent to the salt mines.”

  Tarkio closed his eyes. Rumor had it that the salt mines were deadly places to work and most miners lasted less than a year. If the Prime Konamei placed those who’d been taken in the salt mines, no wonder there was rarely word of them.

  “No.” Kemet’s word sounded like the wail of a wounded animal.

  “Yes. But then they escaped.”

  “They didn’t.” Tarkio’s eyes flew open.

  “They did. The whole group,” Tirk said. “Some were found dead in the desert, eaten by snakes or something. Kaberco says the rest will either die of thirst or be killed by bandits or pirates.” He hung his head and covered his face with his hands. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s a little late for that now.” Kemet scowled. “How could you do that to your sister?”

  Tirk’s only answer was a sob. Tarkio bit back his own accusation. Time enough for that later, once they’d recovered Tereka. “This is actually good news,” he said. “We know she’s alive, or was a few days ago.”

  “How do we know this is true? Why would they tell Kaberco?” Waukomis asked.

  “Kaberco said it was because Tereka is from his jurisdiction.” Tirk sat up straight and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Just in case she tries to come back here. Maybe to see Da.”

  “Which would be foolish.” Waukomis shook his head. “This is where she’d be recognized. And taken again.”

  “What are you thinking?” Tarkio squinted at his friend.

  “I’m thinking this is Kaberco’s way to flush out any other possible malcontents. Such as anyone foolish enough to ride south,” he looked at Kemet, “in an attempt to rescue her.”

  Kemet’s shoulders drooped and his head sagged forward. “I hate to say it, but I think you’re right, Da. That would be beyond foolish.”

  Tarkio drummed his fingers on the table. “If there’s any chance she’s alive, I’ve got to help her.”

  “I don’t see how you can,” Waukomis said. “She could be anywhere. The desert’s a big place.”

  “But if Kaberco kn
ows she’s alive, he’ll be looking for her.” Tarkio chewed the inside of his cheek. “He might have more details about where she escaped. He also has a network of spies around the country and he’s relentless when he pursues someone. If he decides to go after Tereka, he’ll find her.”

  Unfortunately, he was ruthless when he found his quarry, Tarkio thought, his throat tightening. He couldn’t let Tereka end the way her mother did.

  “We can’t let Kaberco catch her again.” Tirk pushed up the sleeves of his gray tunic and tipped his chin up. “I’m going after her.”

  “If anyone goes, it should be me.” Kemet put his face close to Tirk’s and scowled. “Not the one who betrayed her.”

  “But I’m her brother. Her twin.” Tirk glared at Kemet. “And I need to make this right.”

  “Before you two get into a fistfight,” Tarkio glanced from Kemet to Tirk, “we need to decide how best to help Tereka.” He looked at Waukomis. “What do you think? If she’s in the desert, where would she go?”

  Waukomis scratched his jaw. “South or east would be a problem. They’d reach farmland, which means a lot of people. More food and water, sure, but more chances to get caught.”

  “The desert gets pretty fierce this time of year.” Tarkio grimaced. “Sandstorms, no water, blistering heat.”

  “So where could she go?” Kemet asked.

  A sour taste filled Tarkio’s mouth as he considered the last alternative. “West, perhaps. The land is barren, still unusable, I’m told, from the devastation of the early battles in the Endless War. So her chances of making it out alive— ” He swallowed hard.

  “But if she came upon one of the rivers, she’d have a chance,” Waukomis said.

  Tarkio jerked upright. “If they were fighting pirates, they’d have been near a river, and not too far inland. Which means the copper mines wouldn’t be too far, either.”

  “So she might follow a river to the sea?” Waukomis frowned. “That sounds like a good way to run into bandits. Or pirates.”

  “Pirates.” Tarkio said the word slowly. “Do you think we could ask them for help?”

  “Are you crazy?” Tirk asked. “They’d kill us just for breathing the same air as them.”

  “Not always.” Waukomis shifted on his stool. “Poales used to trade with them. Before he was taken.”

  “Oh.” Tirk’s eyes widened. “I forgot. Kaberco said Poales was with the group that escaped with Tereka.”

  “And you didn’t think to tell us?!” Tarkio said. He slapped his son on the back and smiled. “That’s the best news I’ve heard since Aito was born.”

  “How will that help?” Tirk asked.

  “Pay attention, boy,” Waukomis said. “Poales used to trade with the pirates. If he’s still with Tereka, then he would want to take his chances with them.”

  “Why would they want to help?” Kemet asked.

  “Who knows what pirates want or don’t want?” Tarkio shrugged. “The point is, Tereka’s only hope of survival is if she and Poales, and whoever else is with them, find some pirates who agree to help them.” And a slim hope it was. She’d need those amulets, if she still had them.

  “And then what?” Tirk asked. “Tereka becomes a pirate?”

  “My guess is they’ll ask the pirates to sail them somewhere they can hide.” Waukomis rubbed his jaw. “If I had to bet, I’d say they’d go north, past the mouth of the Mirna.”

  North. Toward the Riskers. Tarkio realized that’s exactly where Tereka would go. “You might be right.” He turned to Waukomis. “The ephor of Paamiat might like some honey. Do you have anything he might want?”

  Tirk gaped at his father. “You can’t go there.”

  “Why not?”

  “Kaberco wanted to know if you were planning any trips south. Like he thought you’d head that way.”

  Tarkio tapped his fingers on the table. “He’d suspect I headed in that direction looking for Tereka.”

  Waukomis let out a long breath. “He might think she’d head through the desert in the direction of one of those towns along the Mirna—Paamiat or Utoro, maybe—and he knows full well things are a little looser there. A few fugitives just might be able to make a place for themselves.”

  “If she does that, Kaberco will find her.” Tirk grabbed Tarkio’s arm. “We can’t let that happen.”

  “Suppose Tereka and Poales convince the pirates to take them further north, past Zaliv Bay,” Waukomis continued. “North of the next headland the coast cuts sharply to the east, almost to the mountains.”

  “You’re right.” Tarkio rubbed his chin. “Then they wouldn’t have far to go before they lost themselves in the wilds.” He pursed his lips. “Forget Paamiat. I need to go to Shinroo.”

  “Da, wouldn’t Gishin be better?”

  “Of course. But I’ve already filed papers for a trip to North Rivash, going through Shinroo. No need to change the first part of that plan. From Shinroo I’ll head north.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Waukomis announced. “You’ll need help in case you meet bandits.” He waved a finger at Kemet. “No, I know what you’re going to say. You need to stay local. Stay out of trouble.”

  “But I need to find her.”

  “You need to make excuses for your father,” said Tarkio. “In case someone asks where he is. And no,” he looked at his son, “you can’t come, either. You need to carry on just as you’ve been doing.” He clapped Tirk on the shoulder. “You’ve been a great help. Thank you. Be a good, obedient nephew to your aunt. And keep your ears open for anything else useful.”

  56

  A gust of hot wind tossed grit into Tereka’s face. She squeezed her eyes shut, coughed, and spat sand out of her mouth. Her left cheek burned from the fierce rays of the setting sun. Would they ever get there? This was the longest ten miles she’d ever traveled.

  She staggered over a hill and stumbled on some loose stones. A hand under her elbow steadied her. She squinted up into Naco’s dust-covered face. “Thanks.”

  He smiled and pointed with his chin. “Look.”

  A glint of reflected sun in between green slashes broke up the dirty yellow of the tumbling desert hills. “The Chu. We found it.” Tereka grinned up at Naco. “We made it.”

  A panting Relio clapped Naco on the back. “Looks like we won’t die tonight.” He stumbled down the slope to the river’s bank. Dropping to his knees, he plunged his head underneath the surface.

  Tereka scurried after him. She closed her eyes and dunked her head under the cool water. The burn in her face subsided, the heat pounding against her skull ebbed. She sat up and rinsed out her parched mouth, spitting out the dust and dirt. Then she drank, scooping handfuls of water into her mouth. She settled on the riverbank and stripped off her boots. With a sob of relief, she eased her aching feet into the cool water. The tension eased out of her head and neck. Around her, the others splashed and laughed, then one by one joined her on the bank.

  As the sun lowered, a breeze picked up. The only sounds were the soft gurgle of the river, a hum of insects, and their own quiet breaths.

  Relio broke the silence. “We can’t sit here all night.”

  “Agreed.” Poales pointed to the left. “We should c-cross the river here, then go downstream.”

  And go find the pirates. Tereka’s stomach rolled over. She gathered her tattered boots and stood up. The cool water and soft sand caressed her aching toes.

  Naco helped Savinnia into the water and stood next to Tereka. “Let’s go.” Tereka watched until Naco reached the middle of the river. The water reached only halfway up his thighs. She took a step. Good thing it was near the end of Rozhal and the water was low. She wouldn’t want to try to ford this in spring.

  Shortly, they all stood on the opposite bank. With a nod, Relio took the lead and strode off, toward a curve that bent around a grove of tall trees with blue-green branches and tiny yellowing leaves. Naco walked behind him, next to Savinnia. Poales strode silently next to Tereka.

  By the
time they’d trudged around three bends in the river and four groves of trees, Tereka’s dress was dry and her feet aching. “How far to the coast?”

  “No t-telling how far east we are,” Poales said. All we can do is keep an eye out for pirates.” He glanced at her. “T-Tired?”

  “Me? Of course not.”

  He smiled. “We should look for a place to camp for the night.”

  Tereka was about to answer when an arrow flew past her head. A harsh voice cut through the evening air. “Stop now, unless you want us to shoot to kill.”

  She froze in her tracks. Standing near the trees was a band of ten men, all holding either drawn bows or upraised swords and wearing worn clothing, some gray, some brown. Her heart raced. Were they bandits or pirates?

  Gulping down her fear, she watched the men stride closer.

  “What do you have that we would want?” the biggest one asked. He towered over the others, his forearms easily as thick as Tereka’s thighs. “Should we start with the girls?”

  Another threat. Tereka’s breath caught. She sidled closer to Savinnia. Naco eased himself in front of them. Poales stepped toward the big man, his dark head barely coming up to the other’s chin. “Minyan, d-don’t you remember me?”

  Minyan stared, then grinned. “Oh, you’re the trader with the pretty toys. Got lost in the desert, did you?”

  Poales nodded. “You c-could say that.”

  With narrowed eyes, Minyan studied Poales. “Got any new toys?”

  “Not with me. But I c-can easily build you more, some new for you, others you may have seen. And no charge. All we want is a little help.”

  Tereka gripped Savinnia’s hand.

  “We’ll start with not killing you,” Minyan lowered his sword, “if the toys are good enough. My farsight tube broke, so you can build me another.” He surveyed Tereka’s group. “Eight of you. Eight toys for your lives. You’ll have to come up with more if you want any more help than that.” He shoved his sword into its scabbard. “What’re you doing here, anyway? Not too many to trade with, I’ll wager.”