The Purifying Fire p-2

by Laura Resnick

  A moment later, her course of action became clear. A small white orb appeared in the shadowy darkness of her rocky surroundings. It grew quickly in size. As it floated up into the air and began circling the immediate area, she saw it briefly illuminate the figures of two men. If she moved again on the rocky path, they would hear her. And in another moment, that floating orb, which was coming her way, would shed light on her, and they’d see her.

  Filled with the rich red mana that permeated the mountains of Regatha, Chandra called forth fire and sent a bolt of flame flying straight at the orb, to destroy it. It exploded in a pleasing shower of mingled white and golden light, then scattered itself on the mountain breeze. The two men were shouting.

  “Did you see who that is? Is it her?”

  “I’m not sure!”

  Another glowing orb appeared. This one came straight toward Chandra, followed by the two armed mages as they quickly advanced on her with swords drawn, ready for combat.

  She moved, scrambling off the path and through a gap in some boulders nearby, praying she wasn’t about to disturb a sleeping snake or bad-tempered fox. The fabric of Samir’s cloak caught on something, and pebbles rumbled noisily as Chandra yanked it free.

  “What’s that? There!” cried one of the soldiers. “Just off the path. Do you see?”

  Her hood fell off as Chandra whirled around. She was bathed in the white light of the floating orb as she called flames into her hands again. She felt her hair catch fire.

  “It is her! Seize her!”

  One of the men fell back, screaming in agony as a huge fireball hit him in the chest and ignited his clothing. He staggered backward and fell from the path, down the steep slopes in the dark, his body consumed by flames. The screaming ceased when Chandra heard his body bouncing off rocks far below this steep path.

  “Wait! No! Don’t!” the other soldier shouted at Chandra. “I’m not going to kill you!”

  “Damn right you’re not going to kill me,” she said, forming another fireball.

  “Our orders are to take you into custody!”

  Chandra heard the fear in his voice at the same moment she realized he was backing away from her. That was when she noticed, in the light cast by the glowing orb, how young this soldier was. He looked barely eighteen. And scared.

  She realized she didn’t want to kill a frightened boy.

  Holding the fireball poised for deadly action, she said, “If you don’t want the same fate as your companion, then go. Go now. And don’t come back.”

  He licked his lips, looking uncertain. “I have orders,” he said breathlessly. “You have to come with me.”

  “Do you really want to die tonight?”

  The young man slowly shook his head.

  “Then go. Right now. Before I change my mind.”

  Looking devastated by his failure, he turned around, moving awkwardly, and began heading down the mountain.

  Chandra threw her fireball at the slowly sinking white orb he had left behind, destroying it.

  Then she heard more shouts and the voices of other soldiers. They had heard the commotion here. They were heading to this spot and would scour the mountainside in search of her.

  She realized with frustration that she’d have to abandon the path she was on. They’d be looking for her there and would chase her all the way up to the monastery.

  Fortunately, she knew of a seldom-used, older trail that was not too far from here. But getting to it, in the dark and trying not to be heard by her pursuers, would be a laborious scramble over rough terrain.

  With an exasperated sigh, Chandra turned and started making her way carefully in that direction. Samir was right. She must push hard to reach the monastery before daybreak.

  Within days of Chandra’s nighttime encounter on Mount Keralia, Walbert’s forces laid siege to the monastery.

  Soldiers swarmed up the mountain and established base camps nearby, just beyond the range of the aggressive fire magic that the Keralians attempted to use on the intruders in their land.

  The mages of the Order surrounded the monastery with an insubstantial but efficient white barrier. No one could sneak into the monastery or escape from it without passing through this mystical ward, which would capture the individual and instantly alert the hieromancers. It effectively cut off the Keralians from all access to the world beyond their red stone walls.

  To preserve their supplies for as long as possible, Mother Luti organized a system of rationing for the monastery’s food, ale, wine, and medicine. Fortunately, the deep well within the monastery walls could supply them with plentiful water for as long as the siege lasted. But, even with rationing, all other essential supplies would run out before long. The monastery had been built as a sheltered place for study and learning; it had never been intended to withstand a long siege by determined enemies.

  Chandra knew this stalemate must be resolved. And soon. She just didn’t know how.

  “I’ve had another message from Walbert,” Mother Luti told her one evening, after Chandra responded to her request to come to Luti’s workshop. “It arrived, rather dramatically, wrapped around an arrow that was shot into the south tower.”

  “Did it hurt anyone?” Chandra asked with concern.

  “Fortunately, no.” Mother Luti took a seat and gestured for Chandra to do the same. “And I suppose we’ll have to expect similarly unconventional means of communication hereafter.”

  Their eyes met, and Chandra nodded. An angry pyro-mancer had killed a courier from the Order who had come to the monastery two days earlier. Obviously, Walbert wasn’t going to risk sending another one.

  Luti said, “Brannon has claimed the arrow as a war prize. The boy has become interested in archery since you were nearly killed by that bowman the oufe tribe sent after you. He’s been practicing while you were away, and I must say, he’s become rather good at it.”

  Chandra asked, “Is there anything new in Walbert’s latest message?”

  “No, it’s the same as the previous one. You were seen ascending the mountain by night, Walbert knows you’re here, he demands that we surrender you to him. He doesn’t wish to destroy the monastery, but he will do it unless we deliver you. If we cooperate, we’ll be left in peace, so long as we abide by certain terms. And so on and so forth.” Luti sounded bored and disgruntled. “The terms he proposes are similar to the ones that Samir told you the woodlanders had accepted.”

  Chandra rubbed her hands over her face and wondered what to do. The Keralians were united in their absolute, unconditional, unanimous rejection of Walbert’s demands. Mother Luti had held two meetings at which the matter was discussed and voted on; one immediately after Chandra’s recent return, and another last night, by which time it was clear how devastating the siege was going to be.

  Not one single Keralian was willing to turn Chandra over to the Order.

  It wasn’t personal. Well… maybe in a few instances, it was; several of the Keralians, including Mother Luti herself, as well as the boy Brannon, were fond of Chandra. But, mostly, the refusal was based in the Keralians’ way of life.

  Being who and what they were, they would not bow down to anyone, give in to any ultimatum, surrender to any threat, or back down in the face of any challenge. They would not secure the safety of their monastery at the cost of Chandra’s individual freedom. And nothing could induce them to abide by rules or conditions set by the Order-or by anyone else.

  “What I still find puzzling,” Luti said, “is Walbert’s obsession with you.”

  “I’m puzzled, too,” Chandra said.

  “I’ve been thinking about it. It has to be because you’re a planeswalker,” Luti said. “Walbert’s reasons for pursuing you-and planning to execute you, I suppose-are presumably the fire in the Western Wood, the attack on the ghost warden, and your encounters with his men. But none of that really explains all this.” Luti waved a hand toward the window, indicating the siege that lay beyond the monastery’s sheltering walls. “And since this man
you’ve described to me, Gideon, is also a planeswalker…” The mother mage shook her head. “Well, it’s obviously not as if Walbert believes you’re the only planeswalker on Regatha. So whatever it is that Walbert fears or wants from you, it must be due to something about you in particular.”

  “But he doesn’t know anything about me in particular.”

  “Well, he knows one thing,” Luti said. “So I deduce that it must be the crucial thing: Unlike Gideon, you wield fire magic.”

  “So what?” Chandra said. “I still don’t understand what he wants with a planeswalking fire mage or why he’s doing all this.”

  “I don’t it understand, either. Is his obsession with you a symptom of madness? In which case, can we hope he’ll be assassinated soon and replaced by someone who’ll end the siege and go home?”

  “Gideon knows him, and Samir has met him,” Chandra said, “and neither of them seems to think he’s mad.”

  “Oh, well. Wishful thinking on my part.” Luti added, “You could just planeswalk out of this problem, you know.”

  “No,” said Chandra firmly. “I won’t flee to safety and abandon you to deal with the consequences of my having been here. Besides, what will that accomplish? Will Walbert be merciful to you because you let me escape rather than surrendering me to him?”

  “It’s very interesting,” Luti said pensively.

  “What’s interesting?”

  “Walbert was convinced you would come back, and you did,” the mother mage mused. “Now he’s evidently convinced you won’t leave… and, indeed, you won’t.”

  That gave Chandra a chill. Did Walbert know more about her than she realized? Gideon hadn’t seemed to think so… but that might only mean that Walbert hadn’t confided fully in him.

  For the first time, Chandra wondered if she should leave Regatha.

  But then she thought of the Keralians, who’d be left in the middle of this mess, and of Samir, who had risked so much to protect her… and she couldn’t believe that abandoning them all was the right course of action. Even though her being here didn’t really seem to be right for them, either.

  “I don’t know what to do,” she said to Mother Luti.

  “Neither do I,” Luti admitted. “Not about this, anyhow. But I have come to a decision about something else.”

  “Oh?”

  “I have decided not to tell Brother Sergil what you’ve told me about the scroll.”

  “Why not, Mother?”

  “Because I don’t want the monks to pursue this any further.”

  “You don’t?” Chandra said in surprise.

  “No. It’s much too dangerous.” Luti frowned thoughtfully as she continued, “An ancient scroll that was that fiercely protected? A mysterious plane-which may or may not exist-where mana works differently than anywhere else in the Multiverse? And an artifact of such immense power that it will certainly be sought, coveted, and fought over by people far more ruthless than any Keralian…” Luti shook her head. “If there is such a place as Zendikar, and if the artifact described in the scroll really can be found there… No,” she said with finality. “I don’t want it brought back here. I don’t want anyone ever coming here to look for it. And I don’t want Keral Keep to be involved with an object as dangerous as I believe that artifact must be.” She gave a brief sigh and shrugged. “So I will tell the brothers that you couldn’t find the original scroll and believe it has been destroyed. They’ll study the copied text a little while longer… and then get frustrated or bored, set it aside, and move on.”

  They’d only move on if they survived this siege, Chandra thought. But she didn’t say it. “As you wish, Mother.”

  Luti studied her. “Butyou’re still interested in the artifact, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” Chandra admitted.

  “I thought so.” Luti nodded. “Fair enough. Individuals must pursue their own choices and destinies. My decision is made only with regard to what’s best for this monastery.”

  “And if I someday find the artifact,” Chandra said, “you’re sure you don’t want me to bring it here?”

  “Chandra, if you ever find that artifact, I don’t even want to know about it,” Luti said with certainty. “Nor would I encourage you to tell my successor, whoever that may be.”

  And Chandra thought again that they were talking about the future as if the monastery definitely had one. Which wasn’t at all certain at the moment.

  Chandra awoke from her nightmares sweating and breathing hard, with a scream on her lips.

  The death of innocents was on her head. Because of her rash acts, her impulsive nature, and her reckless deeds.

  She looked around her darkened bedchamber in Keral Keep and understood, for the first time in all the years she had been having this dream, why she had had it tonight.

  The Keralians had welcomed her as one of their own kind when she first arrived here, and they had shared their home, their humble comforts, and their teachings and knowledge with her ever since then.

  Now, as a result of that, soldiers and white mages were massed outside their walls, laying siege to their home, intent on destroying their way of life, and threatening to kill them.

  All because of her.

  Chandra swung her legs over the side of her narrow bed and, feeling nauseated, rested her head between her knees and concentrated on taking slow, steady breaths.

  It’s happening again. Because of me.

  She must prevent it this time. She must.

  Chandra knew she couldn’t live with something like that happening twice. Indeed, she couldn’t even live with what had happened-she was always running away from it.

  I can’t outrun two memories like that. I can’t.

  And suddenly, sitting here in the dark, breathing hard, sweating, shaking, hunched over her knees and trying not to be sick… She knew exactly what she must do.

  She had been confused and uncertain ever since returning to Keral Keep. Ever since things here had instantly spiraled into this crisis upon her return. She had floundered and vacillated. She had guiltily avoided eye contact with her fellow mages. She had expressed outrage when she mostly felt consuming guilt. She had considered fleeing and rejected it, and she had resolved to stay and then wondered if that was a mistake.

  And all to avoid this, she now realized.

  All to avoid the decision she knew she must make now-the one thing she could do to prevent the Keralians from meeting the fate that others had met because of her.

  For a moment, she felt terribly sad as she thought about what would happen shortly. She was still young. There was still so much she hadn’t seen or experienced. And now she never would.

  Then a kind of peaceful resignation settled over her. Perhaps this was her fate. Perhaps she had been heading toward this choice ever since the nightmares began.

  She stood up, walked over to the simple table and chair that were in the corner, and sat down there to write a brief message on a short sheet of parchment. Then she got dressed and left her chamber, heading for Brannon’s bedroom. When she got there, she shook the boy awake.

  Chandra indicated the parchment in her hand. “I have to send a message. I need your help.”

  He blinked sleepily. “Huh?”

  “Bring your bow and arrow.” She pulled back his covers and hauled him out of his bed.

  He stumbled after her, following her out of his room and along the corridors of the monastery. By the time they reached the south tower, he seemed to be awake.

  “We’re sending a message to them?” he asked, looking down at the mountainside with her. The moon was full tonight, casting a glow over the landscape. “The way they sent one to us?”

  “Yes.” She rolled the piece of parchment tightly around the arrow Brannon had brought, then tied it with a thin piece of twine she had brought from her room. “Here.”

  He looked at her handiwork and nodded. “Yes, this will fly.”

  “If they shot an arrow into the south tower…” She looked down
at the rugged landscape below the tower. She could see the white glow of illumination from a base camp. “Yes, there they are. Can you shoot that far?”

  “What am I aiming at?”

  “That white glow. It’s probably there to help a sentry keep watch in the night. If the arrow goes that far, they’ll find it.”

  Brannon took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes, I can do that. I’ve been practicing.”

  “Mother Luti told me. And to make sure they see it…” She filled her breath with fiery heat, then blew gently on the head of the arrow. It caught fire. “Here. Quickly now.”

  He took the arrow with a nod, his talented young fingers comfortably handling the burning head as he prepared to shoot. Brannon raised the bow, drew back his arm, and aimed. After several steady breaths, he drew back a little further on the bow, his whole body taut with the strain, his gaze focused intently on his target. When he loosed the arrow, Chandra heard it sing through the air as it left the quivering bow behind. The small flame sailed through the night, landing at the edge of the base camp.

  There wasn’t enough light for her to see any figures in the distant camp. But she was able to see that the flaming arrow was lifted off the ground and its fire doused.

  “They’ve got it!” Brannon said. “Now what?”

  “Now we wait for a reply.”

  Chandra waited anxiously all the next day for a response to her message, but it didn’t arrive until the day after that. And then she understood why it had taken so long.

  She was playing with Brannon, trying to help relieve the natural restlessness of an adventurous boy now forbidden to go beyond the walls of the monastery. Brother Sergil came looking for her, to tell her she was wanted in Mother Luti’s workshop. Brannon followed her there, but waited outside the door, as instructed.

  When she entered the workshop, Mother Luti said to her, “Chandra, you have a visitor.”

  Her stunned gaze was already fixed on him. “Gideon?”

  He nodded to her in silent greeting.

  Gideon looked considerably better than he had the last time she’d seen him. His thick black hair was neatly braided down his back, and his face was clean-shaven and free of bruises. His pale brown tunic and leggings were clean and tidy, and he looked healthy and alert. The healing magic of the Order was obviously effective.