Lightnings Daughter

by Mary H. Herbert

  In the waiting room behind the clanspeople, the Pra Deshian nobleman regained consciousness. He gazed at the body of his ruler for one horrified second before he fled.

  The murderer saw the movement and raised his head.

  "Branth!" Piers whispered, shocked to his soul.

  The exiled clansman ignored him. Stil clutching his bloody dagger, he bolted past Piers for the door.

  Keth tried to block him, but the man slashed wildly, cutting through Keth's tunic into his arm. The warrior fell back, and Branth ran, laughing, out of the throne room.

  Piers pul ed himself together. There was nothing more to do but get out fast. He and Keth took Gabria's arms and helped her out of the room. Behind them the blazing canopy col apsed over the golden throne.

  Gabria was still woozy from the bang on her head, but she was able to walk. With the aid of Keth and Piers she hurried past the fires in the waiting rooms and into the audience hall. The hall, too, was hot and fil ed with smoke. They rushed through the hal and entered the corridors. The roar of the fire in the Fon's wing assailed their ears.

  "This way,” Piers said, and he led them away from the sweeping flames. There was no sign of Branth or anyone else. The people had long since fled that part of the palace. Bending low, the two men and Gabria ran, coughing and gasping, along the dark corridors to the spacious front entrance hall in the center of the palace.

  The huge double doors were open, and a strong draft blew in through the hall. Outside, Gabria could see hundreds of people mil ing around the gates and the wal , watching the great fire.

  She and the men were about to go to the doors when a new sound caught their attention over the roar of the fire and the crack and groan of the dying palace. They heard a thud and a clash of blades by the opposite wall in the shadows of a broad staircase.

  "Branth!" someone shouted in fury.

  Gabria's heart froze. It was Athlone's voice.

  The sorceress and Keth leaped forward at a run to find the source of the noise. They dashed across the wide, dark hall and found three men locked in battle in the shadows at the foot of the stairs.

  Just as Keth shouted the Khulinin war cry, one figure broke away from the other two and raced for the door. What looked like a large book was tucked under his arm. A pale flash of lightning filled open doors, and the light revealed the man's face for only an instant. In that instant, Gabria recognized him.

  "Branth!" she hissed furiously. Her hands rose instinctively, and she fired a bolt of the Trymian Force at the fleeing man. The blue bolt seared toward him, but Branth dodged around the door. Gabria's arcane force exploded on the wooden frame.

  The gorthling's step hesitated when he realized a magic-wielder had attacked him. Unfortunately, it was too late to do anything about it. The gorthling's new powers were untried and there were too many people around. He had to get away from this place as quickly as possible.

  By the time Gabria reached the door, Branth had already disappeared into the crowd of onlookers.

  "Gabria!" Sayyed shouted behind her. She turned to see the Turk and his group running into the hal from a corridor in the south wing. She went to join them, and the whole party converged at the base of the stairs.

  Gabria took one look at Athlone and Bregan and stifled a cry. Bregan lay on the bottom step, a bloody dagger buried to the hilt in his chest. Lord Athlone was leaning against the wall, coughing and groaning. No one said a word. Sayyed and Valar picked up Bregan, Secen put his arm under Athlone, and the whole party fled the burning palace.

  They crossed the courtyard and took shelter on the far side of the wal . Somewhere in the north wing, a section of the roof collapsed and a huge portion of the front wall slowly crashed into the raging inferno. Sparks and flames soared high on the night wind.

  For a moment, Gabria leaned gratefully against the cold stone and gulped in the clean night air. She was sick, dizzy, and utterly exhausted. Her head felt as if a stone mason was pounding on her temples.

  She ignored the curious onlookers and wished desperately for a drink. Tam pressed against her, trying hard not to cry.

  Beside her, Athlone had sagged against the wall and was taking deep racking breaths to expel the smoke in his lungs. She reached over and clasped his hand.

  "What happened?" she asked.

  For a long time he could not answer. Final y, he croaked, "We searched upstairs as far as we could and found nothing. The palace was a bonfire."

  Gabria took a close look at him and winced. His face was black with soot, his clothes were riddled with bums, and the soles of his boots were charred.

  "We came down the stairs to get out and saw Branth in the hal ." The chief struggled to stand straight. "We tried to stop him, but he was . . ." Athlone tried to find the right word. "Wild. He just leaped at us like a mad wolf. Bregan saw his dagger and threw himself in front of me." The chief’s voice cracked, and he shook his head in grief and anger.

  Gabria glanced at Piers, who was bending over the old warrior. The healer caught her eyes and shook his head. Gabria wanted to weep.

  At that moment, Khan'di came through the crowd. The nobleman's clothes were spattered with blood, and his face was strained with worry and weariness. His smile lit up when he saw the travelers by the wall. "Praise Elaja, you are safe,” he cried. His expression fell when he saw Bregan, but he had little time for sorrow then. Urgently he turned to Gabria. "Sorceress, we desperately need your help."

  Gabria groaned. She did not feel well enough to help herself, let alone Khan'di. Nevertheless she stood up, hanging on to Tam for support, and fol owed the noblemen back around the wal to the entrance gate.

  For a long time they simply stood and stared at the monstrous fire that was consuming the Fon's magnificent palace.

  The city's fire brigade was frantically trying to protect what was left of the central block and the south wing, but the blaze was too much for their bucket lines.

  Khan'di cleared his throat. "Sorceress, the fire is far beyond our control. Is there any way you can put it out?"

  Gabria was stunned. The fire was so big, so powerful, she had never considered such a thing. It was easy to form globes of light or make a door turn to dust, but to quench such a vast inferno? She doubted that she had the skil or the strength.

  Lightning flickered overhead, and she looked up at the sky. "There's a storm coming. The rain will put it out."

  Khan'di fol owed her gaze. "I know,” he said, "but it's moving too slowly. Right now the wind is whipping up the fire." He pointed to the burning roof where a strong gust swept sparks and burning debris into the air. "If any of that lands in other parts of the city, it could start more fires. Some areas are so old and full of wood that a single spark could Start a conflagration that even a hurricane could not put out."

  Gabria understood his fear, but still she hesitated. "Isn't sorcery still against the law in Pra Desh?

  What will all of those people do if I start using magic?"

  The nobleman tapped his sword. "You stil have my promise of protection. No one wil dare touch you as long as you are under my care."

  Gabria was silent. If there was only something she could do! She pushed her weariness and headache aside and tried to think. How does one put out a fire? Water was the obvious answer and water was coming, but not fast enough. She knew from her teacher, the Woman of the Marsh, that human magic-wielders were not strong enough to control something as powerful and unpredictable as the weather, so she could not manipulate the Storm. Nor did she think she should try to direct the tremendous fire itself. What she needed was a spell that was uncomplicated and foolproof that she could keep under control, even in her weakened state.

  The sorceress rubbed her temples with one hand and held on to Tam with the other. What was another way to put out a fire? Blow it out with a great wind. Dump dirt on it to smother it. . . .

  Her mind focused on an idea. She knew fire needed air in order to burn. If the air was cut off by dirt or a wet blanket, the fire died
out. Gabria realized she did not need dirt, all she needed was an airtight, arcane shell over the fire. The flames would fade, the sparks could not fly, and the city would be protected. Al she would have to do is hold the shield until the storm broke.

  The storm.

  Gabria stared up at the black sky, and the strange feeling of growing power that she had sensed earlier burst into understanding. The thunderstorm was enhancing, the powers of magic!

  Magic existed in every person, animal, and thing. It lay everywhere to be tapped by a human with the talent to utilize the power. Gabria realized, as the thunderstorm bore down on the city, that the magic around her was intensifying as if the vast forces of the storm were heightening the magical energy already present.

  She looked back at the walls of the palace and wondered if she could make use of this increased power. She would need a lot of strength to hold a shield so big---strength she did not want to needlessly waste with Branth still on the loose.

  "All right,” she said forceful y and dropped Tam's hand. She heard Athlone and Sayyed come up behind her as she faced the palace and concentrated on the enhanced magic around her. The splinter in her wrist suddenly blazed with a ruby light from the power that coursed through her body.

  Slowly Gabria formed her spell.

  She began her shield on ground level, at the corners of the two four-Story wings on the north and south sides of the palace. Using every fiber of her skill and concentration, she created a protective arcane ward at each corner and careful y lengthened the wards up until they resembled glowing pil ars of red light. She raised them higher---past the first floor; past the second; up to the eaves of the palace.

  Gradually the wards arched upward and joined over the center of the roof. Their red light was almost lost in the fiery glow of the inferno.

  The crowd behind Gabria stood in amazement arid watched the scene in awe. Sayyed's mouth hung open, and Tam stared wide-eyed in fascination.

  Lord Athlone stood transfixed by the spell Gabria was creating. He knew she could draw on the invisible magic around her and shape it to her will, but this was the first time he could clearly see and understand what she was doing. To his amazement, none of his old fears and superstitions rose to hinder him. Instead, he was filled with a budding fascination and a desire to reach out and test the magic with his own hands. He could feel the power around him and within him; it coursed through his veins as naturally and cleanly as his own blood.

  The Khulinin chieftain stared at the sorceress and felt the grip of his doubts and reluctance for his own talent begin to weaken. Without intending to, Athlone edged forward until he was standing just behind Gabria.

  Meanwhile, Gabria spoke quietly to herself to fix her intent in her mind. She raised her hands to complete the spell. The red pillars of energy began to glow brightly. They spread out, wider and wider from top to bottom, rapidly stretching out to encase the entire palace in an airtight, glowing veil of magic.

  In a matter of moments the shell was complete. The edges joined, overlapped, and sealed, and suddenly the noise of the fire was gone. The shell began to fil with smoke.

  The courtyard, streets, and gardens around the wal ed palace erupted with noise as everyone began talking and gesturing at once. Ignoring the uproar, Gabria fought to concentrate and maintain her spel . Even with the help of the increased magic of the storm, she could feel her strength slowly draining away. She held on and prayed the rain would come soon.

  Time dragged by. Although the trapped smoke made it difficult to see within the shield, it soon became obvious that Gabria's spell was working. No sparks or burning debris escaped, and, without fresh air to feed its monstrous energy, the fire was dying. Little by little the flames sank down and went out as the air within the shield burned away.

  Gabria closed her eyes and forced her concentration to hold steady. She was growing weaker by the moment; the red light of the splinter in her wrist wavered.

  Lightning burst overhead, and the thunder boomed only a heartbeat later. The wind gusted, the smell of rain heavy upon its blast.

  "Here it comes," Khan'di said with a quiet note of triumph.

  A raindrop spattered on Gabria's nose. More drops fell, and lightning seared the sky. The sprinkle soon turned to a deluge.

  Khan'di shouted in glee and raised his fist to the pouring rain. Slowly, so as not to restart the fires with a burst of air, Gabria dissolved her shield, allowing the rain to wet the red-hot stone wal s. Steam boiled out of the wreckage where the rain drenched the remains of the fire. The light and the intense heat were gone. Gabria took a deep breath of the cold, wet night air. She did not care if she was soaking wet, she was only thankful to be cool and alive.

  Al at once her dizziness and exhaustion caught up with her. She sagged into Khan’di and felt his arms catch her. She heard Sayyed and Athlone around her and managed a weak smile before her eyes closed and she sank into welcome sleep.

  * * * * *

  Gabria woke up suddenly and bolted upright on the bed. Something was wrong. Her heart was racing, and her eyes stared wildly around the room. Nothing about this place was familiar. It was big and airy and comfortably full of dark furniture, elegant wall hangings, and thick rugs. An embroidery stand sat by the far window, where sunlight poured into the room. A table near the bed was covered with bottles of perfume, combs, and boxes of jewelry. Even the big bed Gabria was in was different from anything she was used to. This room was obviously not in a treld.

  Gabria took a deep breath. Wherever she was, she could not help herself by panicking. She tried to think. The last thing she could remember was the storm. She had no idea how she came to be in this strange place or how long she had been there.

  She was about to get up when a small girl and a large dog burst through the door. They saw Gabria was awake and threw themselves at the bed in delight.

  Gabria, laughing with relief, grabbed them both in a hug. "Hello, you two! Where is everyone?"

  Treader barked, They're eating. They say if Gabria awakens, she should come eat, too.

  Gabria thought that eating sounded like a wonderful idea. She hopped out of bed and looked down at herself in surprise. Her dirty, burned, wet clothes had been replaced by a soft nightdress, and her body and hair had been washed.

  Tam bounced off the bed and twirled around to show Gabria the blue dress she was wearing, then she danced to a chair where a red outfit was draped over the padded leather arm. She brought the dress back to Gabria.

  The woman was astonished. "For me?" She ran her hand down the fine, soft red wool. The dress was fashioned in a style she had never seen before: it laced at the sides so the bodice fit tightly over her figure, then fell from her hips in a loose, swirling skin.

  Delighted, she slipped the dress over her head and pul ed the lacings tight. The dress fit her well.

  When she was ready, she followed Tam and Treader along a passage past more rooms and down a staircase to the main hall.

  Unlike the Fon's palace, which had a separate dining hall, most of the houses in Pra Desh were built with a large central room that was used for dining, entertaining, and family gathering. At that moment, Khan'di, Athlone, Sayyed, two of the hearthguard, Sengi, and several members of the Kadoa retinue were sitting at a large table, eating what Gabria guessed was the midday meal. Everyone sprang to their feet when she came down the stairs. She was secretly pleased to see Sayyed's grin of pleasure and Athlone's open look of relief and admiration.

  Tam and Treader ran over to join Sayyed, while Khan'di strode forward to escort Gabria to his table.

  "Gabria, I am pleased to welcome you to my house."

  She could not help but twirl around to display her dress. "Do I thank you for this? It's lovely."

  Khan'di smiled in paternal appreciation. He had not realized until now how pretty this woman could be. "We had to throw out your singed clothes. I merely replaced them. It was the least I could do." He led her to a chair and heaped her plate with spiced meat, cheeses; fruit, an
d fresh bread. Sengi poured a cup of light, fragrant wine.

  Gabria waited until she had eaten her fill before she asked any questions. The men were glad to answer.

  "Much has happened the past two days,” Khan'di began.

  "Two days!" Gabria exclaimed. "I slept two days?"

  "A day and a half really,” Sayyed corrected. "It was almost dawn when the storm came. You slept yesterday, and it is noon now.”

  The sorceress was amazed. She had not known the spel would exhaust her so much. "What about the palace?"

  Khan'di said, "The fire is out completely. The north wing is total y destroyed. The south wing has smoke and water damage, and the roof has been burned in places, but it is salvageable. We plan to rebuild."

  Gabria caught a note of suppressed excitement in his voice. "We?" she repeated pointedly.

  Athlone replied for his host. "Khan'di Kadoa has been chosen by the guilds and the noble families of Pra Desh to be the new Fon."

  Gabria's face lit with a smile. "That's wonderful!"

  Khan'di's satisfaction showed in every movement of his body and in every line of his face. "We are going to rebuild the palace as soon as the economy of the city has recovered. The Fon's army has been disbanded, and her supporters are in prison. Luckily, her treasury was still intact in the vaults. We have already sent peace delegations to the other kingdoms. And-" he leaned forward and his hand slapped the table in glee, "we found the prince of Calah unharmed in the dungeons."

  "How is that possible?" Gabria asked in surprise.

  "The Fon must have been too cautious to kil him immediately, so she kept him handy."

  "But what about the fire?"

  "The fire did not reach down very far. The doors protected the underground levels and enough air leaked in from the cracks and fissures in the dungeon to keep all the prisoners alive."

  Sengi added proudly, "The prince will be restored to his rightful throne."

  "And the feuding wil begin again,” one of the other noblemen chuckled.