Blood of Fire

by Marlow York

  “There must be many guards patrolling the prison,” I surmised. “Thank you for your help, my friends. Please, may I ask one more favor of you? Will you go into this house and bring back anything that may be salvageable? Something small that you can lift.”

  The snakes soundlessly disappeared into the building, leaving the destroyed boards undisturbed. We waited outside, watching the flickering lights of the City. If it weren’t for the devastation and oppressive silence around us, this could have been just another night in the Fiero village.

  A few moments later, one of the little snakes returned, head held high as it carried a small object in its mouth. I bent down and reached for the item. It was a tiny wooden figurine of a woman. It was a statue my father had carved from an old tree branch and given to my sister as a birthday present. I was astounded to see the only damage to the woman was a scorch mark blackening one side of her body. Otherwise, the piece of wood was hardly damaged at all.

  I gripped the tiny woman in my hand. “Thank you, my friend.”

  The other snake found its way out of the rubble shortly after the first one. There appeared to be a thin thread wrapped loosely around its neck. I reached down and unraveled the string, which was actually thin metal. It was my mother’s necklace. The thin sliver felt liquid in my hands, and at the very end of the necklace was a deep red and black stone. My mother wore this necklace nearly every day, even when she slept. She told me the red and black stone was a type of gemstone sent down from the Fire Goddess herself, but that was only a story. The stone was given to her by her father, who died when I was very young.

  I looped the necklace around my neck. “Thank you, my friend. Both of you have done very well tonight, and the Grakkir are grateful. Two less people will suffer because of you. Now, you must disappear, and I urge you to never go into the City again.”

  The little snakes nodded and curled around my legs before disappearing into the night.

  “We should head back to the forest. I assume nothing else inside was salvageable?”

  “No,” Saven said regretfully. “The snakes said mostly everything else was badly burned or buried in rubble. Perhaps this house was looted as well.”

  “I do not doubt that,” I told him. I looked once more at my house, and it was difficult not to think about all the belongings we’d owned. The Fiero were not greedy people, nor was it typical to own many possessions. However, we cherished each item we had. I could remember the clean white bedsheets my sister and I would tuck around our mattresses after laundry day. I remembered the small pine bookshelf my father had built where we placed all our textbooks, and my mother stored her large cookbook, filled with all the recipes she’d inherited from her mother-in-law. All our clothing and tools were gone. The welcoming scent of the fireplace was gone, replaced with the scent of old ashes and dirt. I knew I would never see or experience these things again.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I told Saven. I turned away from my destroyed home before my tears could fall onto the doorstep.

  As we crept back to the forest, another snake found us and reported that he had found three prisoners. I described Tarek’s appearance, but he told us the prisoners were not Warriors. My heart sank because they hadn’t found him yet, and I felt queasy for doing this—quickly killing our own people before the City had a chance to kill them slowly. We thanked the snake and sent him on his way.

  Two more snakes arrived, having bitten three more prisoners each. Neither of them had seen Tarek.

  “That should be eleven prisoners,” I said. “How is it that Tarek wasn’t in any of the cells?”

  “I can think of a few reasons,” Saven said gravely.

  My stomach turned over. Either Tarek was being tortured, he was being held elsewhere for some reason, or he was already dead and gone.

  “How is it that death is the best outcome I can hope for?” I asked. Despite everything I’d been through because of him, I still couldn’t stand the thought of him being tortured. He was a difficult person to deal with, but there were worse people in the world.

  “He doesn’t seem the type to give in to torture,” Saven said. “Let it be a comfort to know the village will not be in more danger because of him.”

  It was little comfort, but I’d have to accept it.

  We moved stealthily back towards the forest, but it was apparent there was no one out patrolling the decimated village. I believed we would get to the forest safely when I saw a figure sitting beside a destroyed house.

  “Get behind me!” Saven hissed.

  The figure hadn’t seen us, and it wasn’t moving. Could it be the City had somehow forgotten to remove one of the dead bodies? Or had a guard been watching us this entire time?

  “Wait…” Saven hesitated, his tongue flicking at the air. “I know that scent.”

  “It’s him?” I asked aloud. Saven’s sense of smell was impeccable. I sprinted towards the figure, ignoring all instincts to be quiet and move carefully.

  I knelt at the figure’s side. “Tarek!” I exclaimed, while my heart threatened to beat out of my chest.

  At first, I was afraid Saven was wrong. This person was hardly recognizable. His long hair had been cut off, shaved nearly to the scalp. That alone made Tarek difficult to identify, but his face was also badly bruised, swollen on one side, and covered with cuts. Some wounds were fresh, likely only a few hours old, while others were crusted over with dried blood. He looked up, his glazed eyes not recognizing me or his surroundings.

  “Tarek, what happened? What are you doing out here?” I asked.

  He coughed violently, and blood stained his lips. “We need to get out of here,” he wheezed. “It is dangerous. Where is Khero?”

  “He…” I hesitated. The last time I’d seen Khero, he was sprinting after the airship carrying Tarek and the other hostages. No one had seen him since.

  “Something is wrong with him,” Saven said. He pulled away as a feeling of distrust and revulsion passed over us.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Get away from him!” Saven exclaimed, hissing angrily.

  I jumped up, more out of surprise than anything. “Saven, this is Tarek. What’s gotten into you?”

  But when I looked down at the disheveled man, I started to think Saven was right. Something about Tarek was off. Aside from the wounds, his appearance was mostly the same, but I couldn’t get over the feeling that this person was not the same Grakkir man I’d lived with all this time. A sickly feeling rose from the pit of my stomach and clutched my chest. I suddenly felt disgusted by this man. He was not Grakkir. He wasn’t…

  “No…he is.” I tried to convince myself. “This is…Tarek. The Shunned Grakkir. A former Warrior. It has to be.”

  Why was I suddenly doubting myself?

  “He’s not,” Saven insisted.

  “He’s near,” Tarek said suddenly, looking around. His eyes widen with desperation as he looked for Khero. I couldn’t begin to imagine how it felt to be forcibly separated from his companion. Saven was almost like a brother to me, or more specifically, like an extension of myself. I knew the feeling was the same between Khero and Tarek, and they had known each other much longer than Saven and I had been together.

  “Where?” I looked around, but I saw no movement.

  Moments later, I heard the distant thumping of feet, and a dark shape sprinted towards us from the eastern forest. The wolf ran so wildly I feared he wouldn’t see us and would plow right over us.

  Khero skidded to a halt several feet away. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, his fur was matted with leaves and pieces of branches, and his white paws were stained with blood. Where had he been all this time?

  The wolf’s wild eyes found Tarek and took a few steps toward him. His nostrils flared, and he suddenly froze. He stared at his human companion, eyes wide with confusion. A low growl rumbled from his throat.

  “Khero,” Tarek gasped. He lifted his hand towards the wolf.

  Khero snarled and bared his
teeth. He lowered his head, his body tucking into a defensive stance.

  “Why is he doing that?” I asked Saven.

  “Because that is not Tarek.”

  I looked at the man again. His eyes stared at the wolf with a pained desperation I never thought possible. He longed to be reunited with his companion in a way only a true Grakkir could understand.

  “It is,” I insisted. “You have to see it.”

  Saven looked at me, and I could feel how he thought I was the crazy one.

  “Look at him,” I pleaded. “Really look.”

  Saven stared at Tarek, his arm still raised, pleading for his companion to come closer.

  “Tarek,” Saven finally said. “The Shunned Grakkir. The Warrior. Your captor and husband.”

  I looked at Khero. Whatever spell had washed over the two of us now captured him. If he couldn’t see Tarek for who he was, then what was he seeing?

  “Khero,” I said. “Look at him. You know who he is.”

  The wolf ignored me and growled at Tarek again.

  “Khero?” Tarek asked, his voice small. I could hardly believe the look of absolute hurt and confusion on Tarek’s face.

  The wolf lowered his body, eyes wild and teeth bared.

  “Khero, don’t!” I cried.

  The wolf leapt at Tarek, and in the same moment, I ran forward and dove between them. The wolf’s teeth clasped onto my shoulder, and for a split second, I feared that would be the end of me.

  Saven hissed angrily and lunged for Khero.

  “Don’t!” I commanded. I grunted and grabbed onto Khero’s muzzle, trying desperately to get him to release me. “Khero, stop!”

  In a moment of recognition, Khero realized he had grabbed the wrong target. His jaw relaxed, but I held onto his snout while he growled at Tarek. Saven remained still, fighting every instinct that screamed at him to kill anything that was hurting me.

  “Khero,” I grunted painfully. “Look at him. Look at Tarek.”

  The wolf’s yellow eyes shifted from me to Tarek. Through his pained, labored breathing, a look of utter betrayal crossed the man’s face.

  “It’s him,” I insisted. “That is the man your father, the God of Wolves, sent you to protect. He is the man who stood at your side ever since you were a pup. You know him. I know you do.”

  The wolf’s breath calmed as he stared at Tarek. Somewhere behind those wild eyes, he didn’t want to believe me. But his instincts were stronger than whatever trick had taken over the two gods. He stopped growling and gently pulled away from me. I released his snout and let my injured arm fall to my side.

  Khero stepped around me and approached his companion. He sniffed the air twice, then nudged Tarek’s shoulder with his nose. The man lifted a tired arm and pulled the wolf’s massive head close to his face. “My friend,” Tarek breathed.

  “We need to get you back to the Grakkir village,” I told Tarek. The more people and giant animals we had in our group, the more likely we would draw the City’s attention. I looked at Khero. “Help us carry him back, please.”

  The wolf gave a single nod and laid down on the ground. I put Tarek’s arm around my shoulders and helped him stand so he could swing his leg over Khero’s back. As soon as he was atop the wolf, he clutched Khero’s thick fur in his fists and buried his face in the wolf’s neck.

  I heard a raspy shriek from overhead. Kalon soared above us, and as I looked up I realized the sky was slowly becoming brighter. Sunrise would soon be upon us. “Let’s go,” I ordered.

  Khero stood and raced for the trees, Saven and I following as quickly as we could. I ignored the hot blood that poured from my injured shoulder. We disregarded stealth; we needed to leave the area before anyone spotted us. I watched as Tarek slipped and fell from Khero’s back onto the ground. The wolf stopped abruptly and nudged the man, whimpering softly.

  I knelt beside Tarek and put my fingers against his neck, checking for a heartbeat. He was still alive and breathing. “He’s unconscious. Help me get him back up.”

  Khero knelt again, and Saven did his best to nudge the man while I lifted his arms and legs over the wolf’s back. This time, I jogged beside Khero to keep Tarek balanced. The vulture met us just at the beginning of the tree line, where I noticed the rest of the snakes were waiting.

  “The snakes all came back,” Saven told me. “All of the other prisoners are dead.”

  I looked up at the vulture. “Tell Ysolda the task has been completed. I will come speak to her after I have returned Tarek to his home.”

  The vulture cackled once and flapped its massive wings, rising high above the trees and into the fading night. The rest of us disappeared into the forest, just as I heard a distant siren wailing from somewhere within the City.

  Chapter 23

  We rushed through the forest as quickly as we could, and when we reached the field, I was never so grateful to see a light in the house. Sarrenke was home.

  I followed close to Khero’s side, keeping a steadying hand on Tarek’s back to prevent him from falling off again. We were all exhausted, but adrenaline and determination kept us going. Tarek grunted and moaned, but his eyes remained closed.

  “Hang on,” I told him. “We’re almost home. Sarrenke will fix you up.”

  Even as I said the words, I wasn’t sure I believed them. Sarrenke was a Healer, but Tarek’s wounds were shocking. There were lash marks from a whip up and down his back, as well as bruises on his abdomen and face. There appeared to be a stab wound on his right side, and the blood was soaking through the bandage I made from part of my shirt. More than once, he coughed up blood. I suspected he had more serious injuries on the inside than he did on the outside.

  Sarrenke must have heard the approaching footsteps, because I saw her face appear in the front window.

  “Sarrenke!” I called. “Tarek needs help! He’s badly injured.”

  She pulled the door open, and Khero entered the house. I turned to Saven. “You need to keep watch outside. If the City has discovered he escaped, they will come after him.”

  “Understood,” Saven told me. He curled himself up by the front door, eyes scanning the area for possible enemies, tongue flicking the air.

  Sarrenke pulled Tarek off Khero’s back and I helped her place him on his bed. His eyes opened, but they were glazed. His skin felt hot and was drenched with sweat.

  “He has a fever,” Sarrenke said. “That wound on his side is infected.”

  “What can I do?” I asked.

  She was already running back and forth from the kitchen to the bedroom, finding anything that could be used to stop the bleeding and locating herbs and homemade potions. “Go to the village and ask the Elder Council for medicine. Beg them if you must. We do not have what we need to help him.”

  I feared only the City had medicine strong enough to heal him. Rather than dwell on that, I hurried out the front door and sped towards the trail as fast as my aching legs could carry me. Apparently, it wasn’t fast enough for Khero. The wolf caught up to me in seconds and nudged his head between my legs, lifting me onto his back. I clutched his thick fur as we thundered across the field, grass whipping my legs and the cool morning air bringing tears to my eyes. I gasped and felt my heart leap with an unexpected rush of delight. I was riding on the back of a wolf god!

  He sprinted infinitely faster than I could. The trees rushed past us, the wind whipping through my hair and pounding deafeningly in my ears. The situation was dire, and the siren blaring from the City was not a good sign, but I couldn’t help but feel excited as Khero rushed towards the village, his muscular legs beating out a war drum rhythm.

  We entered the village and sped past the alarmed and tired faces of the few remaining villagers. Many looked as though they hadn’t slept, still working on dismantling their homes and fitting their lives into tight bundles. Inessential items were discarded, left in tall piles outside the ruined buildings. Khero only slowed his pace when we reached the Elder Hall, and then he burst through the door, gr
owling when the guards shouted for him to stop.

  I hopped down from his back with a graceless tumble, my body still thinking it was moving in fast forward. The Elder Council stared at us with confused, shocked faces. Even some of the Animal Gods appeared to gape in alarm.

  “Valieri, what is troubling you?” Ysolda asked, her forehead wrinkled with concern laced with irritation.

  “Has Kalon told you what happened?” I panted as though I had been the one running through the forest.

  “Yes. He tells me your mission was a success, but the City has raised an alarm. For that reason, I told the villagers to leave at once.”

  “Did he tell you about Tarek?”

  Ysolda looked at me gravely. “He did. And from what he told me, I think Tarek will soon be joining the gods on the other side.”

  “We need to at least try to help him!” I cried. Khero barked in agreement.

  “Tell me, young Valieri, do you think he really has a chance of surviving what he has been through?”

  I glared at her. “I don’t know for sure he will not survive. And neither do you, so I suggest you either give us medicine to help him, or go kill him yourself. Or have you not yet forgiven him for his cowardice in battle?”

  The room grew silent. It was the type of silence that told me I made a huge mistake. Ysolda was not the type of person to display her emotions, but this time, she did.

  Her face reddened with anger. “Do not disrespect me in my Elder Hall by speaking of things you do not understand!” she shouted. “If Tarek were responsible for your child’s death, you would have a difficult time forgiving him, too!”

  Everyone in the room stared at her in shock. It was clear they had never seen her lash out like that. I felt the adrenaline wear out of my body, replaced by both alarm and sadness. Sarrenke never mentioned that Tarek had caused the death of Ysolda’s son.

  “What?” I asked quietly.

  “You heard correctly.” Ysolda’s voice shook with anger. “That ‘great Warrior’ abandoned his men in the middle of battle to help a child. The enemy’s child, who had gotten caught in the fray. My son, his second-in-command, was left to lead the charge. Ramsil was not ready for such responsibility and rushed head-first into a surprise attack. Ramsil was dying while Tarek took the child away from the battle. A true Warrior leader does not abandon his men, and he doesn’t waste his energy helping the enemy. He should have died, not my son.”