Fire Sower

by Callie Kanno

  Small is the hand that I hold,

  Oh, child, tiny child,

  A touch more precious than o’gold,

  Oh, child, tiny child.

  Ye hold me tight as ye sleep,

  Ye trust I’ll ne’er let go.

  And I hold thee close to me,

  And promise it to be so.

  I promise it will always be so.

  As the last notes faded, applause thundered forth. Idris joined the cheers, and he saw Siani flash him a blushing smile. Idris smiled back, and his heart gave a little jump.

  Zorina clapped her little hands as hard as she could, and Arminell nodded her approval while pulling her youngest child into her embrace.

  Elder Gwydol got to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane, and waved the crowd to silence.

  “Once again, I would like to express how honored we are by the presence of our royal guests,” he said, bowing to the queen and the princess. “We know you have had a trying journey, and we do not wish to deprive you of a good night’s rest. However, before we disperse, I would like to invite Royal Guard Idris to come and share some of what he has learned. He honors Rest Stone Valley with his service to the royal family and I, for one, would like to see what he has been taught by his skilled instructors.”

  Idris could feel the blood draining from his face at Gwydol’s words. His eyes darted over the faces of the people who had known him his entire life, all staring at his expectantly.

  “Well?” Hildar nudged him with her elbow. “Your people call for their mighty hero.”

  Idris turned and hissed in her ear. “I cannot! What could I possibly show them?”

  Hildar gave a dismissive shrug. “Wave Iona around and let them ogle at her jewels.”

  Do not dare to disgrace me by parading me in such a useless manner, Iona warned.

  He shook his head. “She would not like that.”

  The crowd was beginning to get restless, and Elder Gwydol made an impatient gesture at Idris.

  Farah leaned over and whispered, “Hildar, go up with him. Go through your team training exercises.”

  Hildar rolled her eyes, but stood up without further complaint. Idris was so grateful to have someone going up with him that he could have hugged Farah right there on the spot.

  He got to his feet and brushed the dirt from his trousers. He eased his partisan from the holder on his back and removed the cover, revealing its jeweled head.

  A rush of whispers washed over Idris as the people of Rest Stone Valley beheld Iona for the first time. Their astonishment was palpable, and Idris could easily empathize with what they must be feeling. After all, he had felt the same sense of wonder when he had first laid eyes on the beautiful weapon.

  Hildar’s dagger also received quite a bit of attention, but her weapon was not as visible as the polearm.

  Idris and Hildar stood beside each other. Just as they had in practice, they angled their bodies so they weren’t quite facing each other, but were still able to watch one another. Idris extended his partisan in front of him, and Hildar did the same with her dagger. Idris closed his eyes for a moment and focused on the exercises that he had been practicing.

  At first nothing happened, and Idris began to sweat from his anxiety. He reminded himself that his weapon was not merely a tool, but the living heart of a dragon. He did not try to force the power to flow, but invited it to draw near to him, as he would have a skittish animal.

  You wish to impress your fellow farmers?

  Iona’s voice was amused and slightly condescending.

  I wish to make my family proud, he responded in his mind.

  To his surprise, that answer seemed to be enough for her. The partisan began to pulse gently, and he felt the power flow through his hands.

  The steps of the exercises ran through Idris’s thoughts as he put them into action.

  First, exchange power.

  He used the shaft of his polearm like a giant spoon, stirring and condensing the glow until it was a sphere. He opened his eyes and softly propelled the sphere of power in Hildar’s direction. Then he used Iona to receive the sphere that Hildar had sent to him. He felt Hildar’s power join with his and strengthen it.

  Sounds of excitement arose from the crowd, and many of them applauded as if that was all there was to see.

  Idris closed his eyes again and focused on the next step, praying that he would have more luck now than he had experienced in the past.

  Join flows.

  Idris gathered the glow of energy that surrounded him and slowly guided it out toward Hildar. It looked like a stream of molten gold as it moved and pulsed. Hildar’s magic was a dark red, and when the two streams met it became a pool of vibrant orange power.

  Idris could feel the energy of the pool trembling, and he clenched his weapon tighter in an effort to increase his control.

  Be careful, farmer, warned Iona.

  But it was too late.

  The pool of joint magic sparked and exploded, dissipating into a thousand tiny lights. Idris felt a cold hand of fear clutching his heart, and he looked at Hildar to see if she felt it, too.

  Her expression was stony and determined, which was not a comfort to Idris.

  The onlookers cheered as if the explosion was part of the performance. They didn’t understand that if the pool of magic had been any larger, someone might have gotten hurt.

  Idris was about to take a bow and be finished, but he saw Hildar moving on to the next step in the training exercise. He felt he had little choice but to follow her lead.

  Express and transform.

  This particular exercise was all about internalizing the magic and making it personal to the wielder. Idris started to panic. He had not yet been successful in this exercise, and that knowledge pressed down on him.

  Calm down, farmer. Look at where you are.

  Startled by Iona’s command, Idris obeyed. His eyes swept around him. Every face he saw was familiar, every feature of the common land on which they stood was etched into his memory.

  He was home.

  Idris’s chest expanded, and he could feel the rush of power fill him. He took in as much of the energy as he felt was safe and channeled it into his hands—the hands that had worked so many years alongside his father and brothers. He held his partisan as he would a long-handled dibber and touched the head to the ground.

  Long tendrils of glowing power shot out to form a circle on the ground around him, splitting and weaving until it looked like Idris was standing in the center of a large wreath. Another surge of energy from Iona allowed the tendrils to grow upward and turn into delicate pillars of fire in the shape of growing grain.

  Idris experienced a tidal wave of exultation and his thoughts reached out to Iona.

  We did it!

  Iona’s voice was both surprised and pleased. Yes, we did.

  The cheers of the farmers brought Idris back to the present, and he couldn’t help but grin at their enthusiasm.

  Hildar’s tiny horses were prancing around her in glowing lines, and she looked quite satisfied with the reaction of the crowd. She surveyed Idris’s fiery plants and gave him a rare smile.

  “Well, well,” she said just loud enough for him to hear.

  It was as close to praise as she had ever come, as far as Idris was concerned. He smiled broadly at her and accepted it as a compliment.

  “Now for the final exercise,” Hildar said.

  Idris nodded.

  Joint expression.

  He had never attempted this exercise, due to his inability to express and transform his power. Normally, he would have balked at the idea of making his first attempt in front of so many people, but he was feeling triumphant and confident.

  He sent tendrils of power out toward Hildar and watched them blossom into flames of grain. She directed her tiny horses to trot out to meet the stalks of grain, and the two expressions of magic merged.

  At first, it was a glowing display of horses galloping around a field. It took all of Idri
s’s concentration to maintain his part in it, but he also felt what Farah had described to them during their lessons. He was as close to Hildar as he sometimes was with Iona, and he experienced a sense of deep camaraderie that hadn’t been there before. He felt like he could join his thoughts with Hildar’s, if he only knew how.

  However, that warm, connected sense of peace soon began to waver. The trembling that Idris had felt earlier returned. The golden grain and the red horses swirled and merged into a fiery orange monster with a gaping maw and ferocious claws. The beast swirled and darted so quickly that it was difficult to tell exactly what it was, but it struck fear to the core of Idris’s being.

  Stop him, Iona shouted in his mind.

  Idris didn’t know whom she meant. He tried to withdraw his share of power from the flaming beast, but he found that he couldn’t.

  “What is happening?” he asked aloud, his voice trembling with terror.

  Stop Savion, Iona cried. He is trying to take over.

  The monster raced in a circle, pushing closer and closer to the watching crowd. Many of them were growing uneasy and backing away. The fire creature paused just long enough for Idris to get a good look at it, and he finally saw what shape the beast had taken. It was a chimera.

  Just like Hildar’s dagger.

  Idris held on to his partisan with both hands. His body was beginning to shake with effort, and he could feel his control wavering. His desperation to maintain the tenuous hold he had on the fiery monster caused sweat to form across his face.

  “Hildar,” he called to his partner. “Hildar, what are you doing?”

  She didn’t answer.

  In the flickering light of the beast, Idris could see that Hildar’s eyes were glazed over and her expression was slack.

  “Hildar,” he shouted, his voice hoarse from the effort. “Hildar, wake up!”

  He heard Farah shouting for the audience to move to safety. Out of the corner of his eye, Idris saw Palti moving toward the queen and the small figure of Princess Zorina, and he realized—the chimera was not interested in the crowd. Idris opened his mouth to cry out to Palti in the same moment that the fiery chimera lunged at them.

  There was a flash of white light as Farah whipped her battle-axe out and deflected the monster. Palti lunged at Hildar and tackled her to the ground.

  The beast vanished.

  A deafening silence followed as all eyes fixed on the two figures sprawled in the dirt.

  Hildar slowly sat up and held her head with both hands. “What happened?” she asked. She sounded dazed.

  Idris could do nothing but stare at her in fear.

  Chapter Thirty: Fear and Loss

  The heavy silence was broken when Elder Gwydol stood and began to speak to the residents of Rest Stone Valley. Idris was dimly aware by his tone that Gwydol was attempting to soothe any fears that had arisen, but he had no attention to give his former leader. His focus was completely on Hildar and Palti, who were both still kneeling on the ground.

  “What happened, Hildar?” Palti’s voice was quiet but intense.

  She shook her head. “I do not know. The last thing I remember is doing the training exercises with Idris…”

  “Then what happened?” Palti prodded.

  Hildar’s face twitched, as if she had just experienced physical pain. “I could feel Savion getting stronger.”

  “Has this ever happened before?” Palti demanded.

  Tears welled up in Hildar’s eyes and she nodded. “At first it was so easy to work with him because he was eager to teach me. He said we could do much together.” She spoke slowly at first, but the words came faster as she continued. “He said I had more potential than any of his previous masters, and he promised to help me reach that potential. I started doing what he told me to do, because it made me better than Aherin and Idris. I was learning faster and becoming stronger, so I assumed that Savion was right.”

  Palti’s expression was grim. “And then?” he urged.

  “I started losing track of time,” Hildar admitted. “And it became harder and harder to control what Savion was doing.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, as if she was afraid her dagger might hear. “I started to fear that I was a danger to others.”

  “Why did you not say anything?” asked Farah, who had joined them.

  “Savion kept saying that I needed to be stronger,” Hildar said in a trembling voice. “I thought that I could regain control if I kept doing what he told me to do.”

  Idris felt sick to his stomach. Everything he had feared about Iona had actually happened to Hildar. He tried to imagine what it would be like to have unexplained lapses in his memory or to find that his actions were not his own. The idea filled him with horror.

  He also felt guilty that he hadn’t noticed that something was wrong with Hildar. It was true that they had never been on friendly terms, but maybe if he had made more of an effort he would have seen warning signs earlier.

  Idris was still trying to wrap his mind around the revelation as Palti sighed and got to his feet. “Let us take the queen and the princess back to the cottage,” Palti said. “Then we will decide the best course of action for Hildar.” He held his hand out to help Hildar stand.

  Elder Gwydol approached them cautiously. Idris hadn’t even realized the leader had stopped speaking. Now most of the families were leaving, heading back to their farms.

  Elder Gwydol paused beside him. “Is everything alright, young Idris?”

  Idris did his best to appear unconcerned. “Yes, Elder Gwydol. Thank you so much for arranging this celebration. We should take the queen and the princess back now. We all need rest.”

  It was clear from Gwydol’s expression that he knew something wasn’t right, but he didn’t question Idris. He went to Queen Arminell and Princess Zorina and bowed as he wished them a pleasant night.

  They walked back to the cottage in silence until the queen spoke. Her voice was perfectly calm.

  “What happened back there?”

  “I was scared,” Zorina piped in, shuddering from the memory.

  Palti glanced at the young princess. When he spoke, he seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “Hildar is having trouble controlling her weapon, your majesty,” he said to the queen. “Farah and I will keep a close eye on her and rectify the situation.”

  Arminell’s eyes were concerned. “Are you certain there is no danger to myself or my daughter?”

  Palti hesitated before answering. “I do not believe so, your majesty. Even so, we will be cautious.”

  The queen went straight into the cottage as soon as they arrived, taking the protesting princess with her.

  Palti turned to Idris. “Idris, stay close to the queen. Farah and I need to talk with Hildar.”

  Idris nodded and went inside the cottage. It was peaceful and familiar after the frightening events that had just taken place. He tapped quietly on the door to the main bedroom and waited for the queen to answer.

  The door opened after a moment. “Yes?”

  “I just wanted to let you know I will be standing watch, your majesty. If you need anything, just call.”

  The queen gave him a weary smile. “Thank you, Idris.”

  The door closed again, leaving Idris to his thoughts.

  Are you afraid of me again?

  Iona’s voice was both accusatory and morose.

  It took Idris a moment to come up with his answer. I do not know, he responded honestly.

  I have never tried to seize power, she pointed out. I have never tried to manipulate you.

  I know.

  Even as he thought it, doubts tugged at his mind. Farah had warned them against giving too much control to their weapons, but Hildar had fallen into Savion’s trap by following his instructions in how to grow stronger. Iona had also offered advice on how Idris could wield her more effectively. What if it had been his resistance that had kept his mind safe?

  Idris’s musings were cut short when the bedroom door opened and Queen Ar
minell emerged. She walked into the living room and sat on one of the chairs there, beckoning for Idris to join her.

  “Zorina is asleep,” the queen said with a sigh. “I worried that she would be too afraid to rest, but she seems perfectly at ease here.”

  Idris sat down as he was bid, but he felt distinctly uncomfortable. He had never been alone with the queen before, and he didn’t know what was expected of him.

  “Rest Stone Valley has that effect on people, your majesty,” Idris said respectfully. “It is easy to feel safe here.”

  Arminell nodded and looked out the front window. “It is very much like the village where I grew up.”

  Idris frowned. “I thought your father was the king of Zoma.”

  She smiled. “He is.”

  For a moment is seemed that she wasn’t going to give any further explanation. She stared out at the starry sky, lost in thought. Just when Idris had decided that she was probably done talking, she spoke again.

  “It was my father’s practice to send his children away from the capital city when they were young. He wanted us to be raised elsewhere. He believed that we would be safer away from the political maneuverings of city life. He also felt it protected the royal line to keep us all apart instead of presenting a single target to would-be assassins.”

  Idris nodded to show he was listening, though he wasn’t certain why the queen was confiding this to him.

  “I am my father’s oldest child,” she went on, “and I was sent away the day after my younger brother was born. No one was told where I had gone, and my identity was kept a secret. I was raised as the daughter of a lesser Noble.” She looked at him. “Even I did not know the truth of my birth.”

  Idris leaned forward with interest. “When did you find out that you were a princess?”

  The queen’s expression clouded over and she looked toward the window again. “I found out on the day I was told that I had been promised to King Nikolas of Calaris.”

  He frowned. “How old were you?”

  “It was just before my eighteenth birthday,” she replied. “The next day I was taken back to the capital to be fitted with gowns and jewels and every fine thing. I was introduced to my mother and father after sixteen years apart, and within a month I was sent here to Calaris. Our marriage was designed to secure a peace treaty between our nations.”