Hero of Fire

by P. E. Padilla

  “We’re still not sure what Thozrixith is waiting for, but we need to take him out before he gets whatever it is.

  “Before we get into that, though, maybe formal introductions are in order. You six will be working together for as long as it takes to complete this mission. Kate, let me introduce you to your team.

  “I’ll start with Peiros Cressa, since I know you have already met him. He’s from Salornum originally and has the unique talent of understanding the demon language. He’s been to Hell before. Several times. In fact, of the remaining Black, he has the most experience in Hell.”

  Peiros put his sun-darkened hands together in the manner he always did—very nearly a prayer posture—and dipped his head over them. His dark, curly hair swayed a little with the movement. As he bowed, his light hazel eyes remained locked on her, not in a threatening way but in a way that told Kate this man was difficult to sneak up on.

  “It is a pleasure to see you again, Kate Courtenay. I thank you again for coming to my aid during the battle. I may not have survived without your skillful assistance.”

  “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Peiros,” Kate said, trying to match his polite manner. “I’ve seen you fight with those crescents. I think you hardly needed my help, but I was glad to give it.”

  “Next is Aurel Brunn,” the captain said. “You have worked with him and even fought with him to save the shield wall.”

  “Pretty Kate did not need my help,” Aurel’s booming voice said. “I stood and watched the skill with which she slaughtered the demons. She is the best warrior I have ever seen. And the prettiest.”

  Kate felt her face heating, but didn’t know if it was the praise for her looks or for her skill at arms. She thought it was probably the latter.

  “Thank you for joining the team, Aurel,” she said. “Your sword will be welcome, as will your impeccable manners.”

  Aurel’s teeth flashed white, contrasting with his dark skin. Even a smile made cords of muscle in his neck jump into definition. Kate wasn’t sure if he had an ounce of fat on him. He had more than enough muscle, though.

  “Jurdan Vora, our resident tardy operative,” Achard said. “You have worked with him on the battle line as well, so there is no need for introduction.” The man opened his mouth to speak and the captain quickly added, “Or for any speaking at all right now, Jurdan.” The blond man’s mouth snapped shut with a clicking sound. It was the first thing Kate had seen that could make him stop talking.

  Phrixus Achard motioned to the next man, a compact warrior with hair the color of tree bark too long exposed to sunlight and eyes that nearly matched. In addition to his sword and shield, he had two long knives sheathed at his waist.

  “This is Benedict Dressen. He’s seen more action than most, volunteering for extra duty whenever he can.”

  “Nice to meet you Benedict,” she said.

  “You can call me Ben. Everyone else does.” His face melted into a greasy smile, tugging at the two inch scar down his left cheek. His eyes remained cold, almost blank. A stab of something assaulted Kate. Not quite fear, but definitely discomfort. That smile seemed like the one someone would wear when delivering a mercy blow to end an enemy’s suffering on the battlefield. She shivered a little.

  Ben looked to his left, toward the man who hadn’t been introduced yet, and his smile turned even colder. His mouth didn’t move, but his eyes turned hard, as if he was someone who would withhold that battlefield mercy and stand watching an enemy die slowly. She wasn’t sure she wanted this man on her team.

  But the captain had already moved on to the last man.

  “This is Visimar Torten.”

  Visimar was stout like Benedict, though two fingers taller. His hair and eye color were almost identical also. The two could have been brothers. Scars pockmarked his face, no doubt from a skin condition earlier in his life. He delivered a more genuine smile while squinting and tilting his head as if he were classifying her somehow. He had two slightly curved swords scabbarded on his back, one hilt poking up from each shoulder.

  “And there you have it,” Captain Achard said. “Your team. Now that we all know each other, let’s get down to business. As far as I’m concerned, the most dangerous part of this mission is trying to get into Hell itself. The only way I know of is to slip in during a battle, when the gate is open. There is no forcing the gates of Hell.

  “You will stay on guard, ready to leave for your mission on a moment’s notice. I feel that the moment is not yet right. I will let you know immediately when I figure out the timing.”

  The other members of the team explained to Kate the process for requisitioning gear and how a typical mission was run. She appreciated the instruction, and that some of the team members had already taken it upon themselves to get the supplies in advance. They weren’t sure when they might be called out to the open gate, after all.

  “The subject of Thozrixith is a tougher one,” Captain Achard said. “There is very little known about him. He is—”

  “—ancient,” Kate finished. “There are reports of a demon who looks like him from seven hundred years ago when he used to take a more personal role in battles, before the demons started sending only the grunts out and staying back in the safety of the other side of the gate.”

  The captain stared at her. He didn’t look angry at being interrupted, and normally, Kate would never have done it, but she was desperate to prove that she was valuable to the mission. She hadn’t prepared for it as a mission leader usually would, mainly because she didn’t know to do anything, but she didn’t want to feel worthless.

  “Correct, Kate,” Phrixus finally said. “Go on.”

  “Thank you, sir. His powers are unknown, though he was seen at least once with flame wreathing his body. Elemental fire magic is not that uncommon in some of the more powerful demons. When he has fought—twice on record—he uses a staff with a magical stone at its head. In one confrontation, all his troops had been killed and he battled three Black brothers to a standstill, calmly backing through the gate and closing it in front of him.”

  “Anything else?” the captain asked.

  “No, sir,” Kate answered. “Not that I could find. We’re basically going in blind.”

  “Not so blind,” Peiros said, “begging your pardon, Kate. I have been to Hell several times, and Jurdan has gone once himself. We are familiar enough with the area on the other side of the gate, though after that point, it is true, we will not know anything about the terrain.”

  “Thank you, Peiros,” Kate said. “I didn’t mean to imply ignorance or to minimize your knowledge.”

  “There was no offense taken,” he said. “I simply wanted to mention that others have been through the gate and have come back alive. It is perhaps an important thing to remember, I believe.”

  The team spent the next several days together, not wanting to be too far apart to complicate things if the bells sounded that the gate had opened. They grew more comfortable around each other, but they also began to bicker like siblings.

  Kate wasn’t the most social person, and she had to be in constant attendance with five men. True, they were—for the most part—polite and respectful, but they were still strangers to her. Better to become accustomed to it now, though, before being thrust into Hell and trying to get used to it then.

  “I’m telling you,” Visimar Torten said in the closest thing to raising his voice Kate had heard yet from him. “We can’t just blindly follow orders. We have to think. About people, about circumstances. It’s our duty not to be simple golems that do some officer’s bidding.” He squinted his brown eyes as he often did, especially when thinking.

  They were in one of the meeting rooms, having their midday meal and chatting.

  “I understand your argument, Visimar,” Kate said, “but we’re soldiers. The Order is the most important thing, and the Order will fall apart without structure. When we have orders, we are required to follow them. We can’t disregard them because we feel that helping s
omeone—no matter how important—is more valuable than doing what we were told to do.”

  Visimar cocked his head and moved his lips slightly, as if he was repeating the argument to himself. His thoughtful eyes held Kate’s, but he didn’t speak further.

  “I agree with Kate,” Benedict said, making it no secret that he meant he disagreed with Visimar. He glared at the other man as he said it. “The Order is all. We are meant to follow the orders of those above us. Period. No sympathetic half-soldier’s tender heart should allow us to deviate.”

  Visimar, to his credit, simply locked eyes with Ben without saying a word. Kate had found he wouldn’t speak unless he had thought things through. She appreciated that and encouraged him to speak his mind freely.

  “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that,” she said, trying to defuse the situation, but the men weren’t paying attention to her now. They looked to be having a contest of wills, their eyes the conduit of some kind of power she couldn’t see. Ben was moving his hand slowly toward the knives strapped to his waist.

  “Visimar,” she said. It came out much too loudly. “Perhaps you could join me for a moment. I had some questions about the runes on the gate itself, and I understand you have studied them extensively.”

  The man shook his head as if he was breaking out of a trance and swiveled it to her. “I…ah, yes. I have studied them a fair amount. What questions do you have?”

  “Walk with me, please? It would be easier to explain if I could show you on the gate itself.”

  He paused, his head bobbing a little like he was trying to keep from tilting it.

  He blinked.

  “Of course, Kate. It would be my pleasure.”

  They left, but not before Visimar threw a look to the other man. What was going on with those two? She had better find out, and fast. The last thing she needed was two members of her team trying to kill each other.

  As the two walked, Visimar seemed content to simply stroll along beside her. Kate was generally comfortable with silence, but in this situation, it grated on her. Three times, she opened her mouth to say something, but then thought better of it and decided not to. She was no good at small talk.

  They went silently to the gate and discussed the runes. Visimar seemed to know that she had only asked him to go there so she could separate the two men. On the way back, she had almost worked up the courage to ask about their feud, but Visimar spoke first.

  “Kate,” the man said, finally breaking the silence. “Do you truly believe that it is right to put orders above the needs of others? Would you choose to ignore a comrade or some innocent in danger if to do so conflicted with what you had been ordered to do?”

  Whatever she had expected him to say, it wasn’t that. She had nearly forgotten about their debate in the light of the hostility she witnessed between Ben and Visimar.

  “I do,” she said. “The overriding mission of the Order is more important than any one person, than any group of people.”

  “I see.” He tilted his head again. She had come to recognize it as his thoughtful posture. “I do not agree. Orders are important, yes, but in the end, I would do what my conscience demands of me.”

  Kate stopped and faced him. He stood there, a quizzical look on his face, as if he was unraveling some puzzle. “You would disobey orders?”

  “I am not saying that exactly, but even with well-phrased orders, there are…let us say…grey areas, room for interpretation. Perhaps if we look at a particular problem from many angles, we can see a solution that satisfies both the orders and also our humanity and compassion.”

  Kate rocked back on her heels. He had basically told her that if it came down to a decision, he would disobey orders. She wasn’t sure what to think about that. The first emotion that bubbled up in her chest was fear. Fear that he would betray her on a whim.

  She took a deep breath and steadied herself. He had merely said that some things were more important to him than orders. But that was bad enough. Someone who could put aside commands by superior officers for any arbitrary excuse, that someone would be dangerous. An unknown.

  “Are you unwell, Kate?” he said. “You needn’t worry that I will be reckless or insubordinate. We are simply talking philosophy. Don’t let it trouble you.”

  But it did. It did trouble her. She had been put in command of this team, and they were already undermining her authority. Would they mutiny as soon as they passed into Hell? She had no power to make them obey. She could beat any one of them, maybe any two of them in a fight, but not all five. Why did she have such trouble identifying with people?

  Sometimes it seemed like she would never truly find her place.

  14

  In the days after Kate accepted her role as the leader of the mission, the demons began to attack with frightening frequency. Kate and the other Black wondered if they were too late, if the demon lord’s plan had come to fruition and they were witnessing the beginning of the end of the Order.

  Yet the Order persevered. The shield wall maintained its strength, and when it faltered, the Black shored it up. Just like always.

  Peiros tried to spy on the demons again, but they had grown wise to his schemes. The first thing they did when the gate opened was check his former hiding place. He tried to focus on the demons’ thoughts from the line, but he wasn’t able to isolate individual thoughts amid the interference. Being involved in the battle ruined his listening.

  As the attacks continued, day after day, Kate wondered when they were going to use the distraction to slip into Hell and start the mission. She had been under the assumption that they would go as soon as the gate opened. The captain forbade it, though.

  “I’m not sure what I’m waiting for,” he said. “I just have a feeling this is not the time. If you tried to slip into the gate now, you’d be torn to shreds before you made it two steps across the threshold. I’ll let you know when.”

  Kate found herself pacing, at times drumming her fingers on whatever surface was near. The waiting made her want to scream. She began spending more time with Peiros. He accompanied her sometimes to see Molara, and the three of them would talk for hours about the mission and whatever else came to mind. For the first time in her life, she had a circle of friends. It was strange and new and wonderful.

  The more Kate thought about things, though, the more friendship seemed a two-edged sword. While it was nice to have friends, it also created certain burdens. Like the likelihood of her bringing danger and death upon her friends. One thing was certain: death stalked her like an unrequited lover. While it had not been able to grasp her in its claws, would her friends be so lucky?

  She decided she shouldn’t burden them with such danger. She started avoiding them.

  They reacted in different ways.

  Peiros, being the newest of Kate’s friends, slipped into a purely professional mode. He still saw her in training, and when he was paired with her in the rotating assignments on the line, he was as kind and polite as ever but never asked her if anything was wrong.

  She couldn’t figure out if he was upset that she shunned him or if he understood and was allowing her to dictate the terms of their friendship. She felt bad, but then she didn’t, and then she did again.

  When it came down to it, all she did was for her friends’ benefit, after all, so she maintained her distance.

  Wilfred hunted her down every day and asked her if he had done something wrong.

  “I’m not mad at you, Wilfred,” she said. “I just need some space and time alone. I hope you understand.”

  Kate shuffled her feet and tried not to look in his eyes as they started to tear up. He was kind of sensitive, after all. He accepted her isolation in sullen silence, though.

  Molara, on the other hand, didn’t even try to engage Kate in conversation. The few times Kate went to the library, Molara acted as if the other woman wasn’t even there. What was that about?

  Kate had been avoiding her friends for nearly a week, doing as many extra duties on the
wall as she could, when Molara finally did something.

  Kate stepped out of her room one morning and found Molara sitting in the hall near her door.

  “It’s about time you got up,” the mage said.

  “It’s barely sunrise,” Kate huffed. “How long have you been here?”

  “A few hours.”

  “A few hours? Why didn’t you knock or call out to me?”

  Molara looked at her with serious eyes. “Really? With you trying to play hero and save us all from your presence? No, better I wait and snatch you up as you leave. Come with me.”

  “No,” Kate said, “I can’t. I have to…”

  “You’re not on duty this morning.” Molara threw a blistering glare at her friend. “I checked. Come on. I won’t argue with you about your stupid plan to save us all trouble and remove yourself from our lives. I have something much more important to discuss. Something I promised you but wasn’t able to deliver.”

  Kate sighed and went with her friend toward the secret section of the library. On their way, Kate brought up something she had been wondering about. “What is the issue with officers who want to disband the Black, anyway?”

  “What do you mean?” Molara said.

  “A few days ago, I almost literally ran into Antoni Sera, and he gave me a dissertation about how the Black should be disbanded and how I would be better off pursuing a career as an officer. He’s the third officer I’ve interacted with who had the same attitude. The other two were captains.”

  “Oh, that. It’s true, the Black are not as universally loved as those on the outside think. The individual soldiers look up to them, and everyone outside of the Order idolizes them, but there are some within the Order that would like them to be dispersed. Several of the higher officers seem to have made it their lives’ ambition to get rid of the Black Command completely.”

  “But why?” Kate asked.

  “Who knows? They say it’s because the focus should be on the Red or on other, more creative ways of dealing with the gate than just standing toe-to-toe with demons—”