Cast in Firelight

by Dana Swift

  “Matagga Zantahihtrae,” a male voice chants.

  I roll again, the boy and me, tumbling in the dirt. The elephant no longer moves a muscle, but trumpets softly in frustration. Yeah, me too, buddy.

  I sit up, dazed by the amount of magic and fear lingering in my bloodstream. The boy whimpers when I move. I process the noise of his heavy crying at the same time a male voice shouts, “Is everyone okay?”

  I can’t exactly turn around with the boy fastened to me like a leech, so I raise one weak hand. “Yes, we are alive.” Faces in the crowd gape, hands stretch out. Thank Gods I’m not eighteen yet, that these people have no clue this dirty mop of a girl may be their future ruler.

  Someone bends over me, blocking the blinding sun and the blur of faces. It has to be whoever was in the carriage. Before I see his face, an emblem stitched onto his jacket greets me, a snowcapped mountain with blue wind encircling it, the emblem of my intended. Raja…Raja Jatin.

  I scramble like I’ve never scrambled before, both brain and body afray. “Ahhh.”

  Again, he speaks, with a rich voice that can only be described as masculine. “Are you all right?”

  The boy cries into my side. The crowd murmurs. But the noise should be louder, should be as pounding as the questioning voice. Am I all right? Something in me seems to be malfunctioning. Another man appears behind Raja Jatin. “The elephant and everyone else are fine,” he says. “Are she and the boy okay?”

  “I think she hit her head,” Raja Jatin says.

  “I, um, I’m good.” Good? Really? That’s all I can come up with? Embarrassment, because it knows it has the right to invade this situation, creeps into my cheeks and spreads over my entire body. I must be dipped in a different, fuming red.

  Raja Jatin steps back and turns to the crowd, letting his guard, or whoever he is, take charge of the situation I have so amazingly created. The guard ruffles the crying boy’s hair. “Hey, it’s over. It’s okay. Your sister saved you.”

  The boy finally looks up and peers into my eyes. “You did save me.” He sniffles. “Why?”

  “Ah.” I’m unable to be articulate right now, let alone answer why I value life. The simple answer—because—seems underwhelming and foolish. What actually spills out of my mouth is much worse. “Just answer my questions, okay? Don’t run off.”

  The boy nods. In one motion he unwraps his arms from my middle and pulls my firelight into view. “Here, it’s yours.”

  I reach to take it, but my left arm falls to my side, limp like jelly. It aches as if the nerve endings have been snapped. Blood, not again. Not now! I grasp the orb with my right hand and let it fall in my lap. How am I going to escape this mess? To burnout at this moment…

  I glance at Raja Jatin, who looks stiff, like a statue at a podium addressing the crowd. His guard, however, is enthralled by my exchange with the boy. Confusion lines his features.

  He stands and the boy follows. Everyone is waiting on me. Even the crowd strains to catch a glance at the foolish girl who ran toward a royal carriage and now can’t seem to get up.

  When I don’t stand, the guard raises his eyebrows and offers his hand. I peek at Raja Jatin again, who is talking to the carriage driver. At least he’s not paying attention to me and has no clue who I am.

  “Can you take this?” I gesture to the orb.

  “What is it?” the guard asks.

  “Firelight,” the boy says before I can answer.

  The guard’s eyes widen as he pockets the red magic before reaching down again and grabbing my good hand. With a majority of his help, I’m able to haul myself up. The crowd cheers. I can hear it, but the faces are smudged. My vision swims like I’ve dived into a murky pool. I sway and the guard grabs both my forearms to stabilize me. “Are you sure you are good? I think you burned out.”

  I laugh at his puzzlement. Burned out—the term is particularly accurate for me even though it applies to all witches and wizards. I clench and unclench my left hand. The designs on my wrist don’t glow, and deeper, under the skin, my blood chugs along fast and scared, but not spiced with energy. I haven’t burned out since…ah, wait, there was that time last week.

  “I’ve had a busy morning,” I murmur, striving to sound confident. It’s a mediocre attempt at best.

  This is why I’m supposed to create firelight at night, so sleep and time can renew my magic. I love my invention, but it’s powerful and energy depleting. And currently I’m having time management regrets. I sway again, my body practically slamming into the guard’s. He catches me, this time by my shoulders.

  “Yes, definitely burned out. You’re going to pass out soon. I promise you’ll be safe when you awaken.”

  “No I won’t.”

  “I can assure you, by the honor of Raja—”

  I interrupt so I don’t have to hear the full name. I can’t bear the reality of it in full. “No, I mean I won’t pass out. I just need a few minutes.” The dizziness should fade in about five minutes. It always does. Blackness clouds my vision, but it won’t take over. The guard’s hands still hold my shoulders. Another bout of light-headedness hits me. I grab his forearm as an anchor. His skin is cool. I’m not only burning out but burning up.

  “Do, um…do you mind if I…” He finishes with something, but I can’t make out the words. Blood, my brain’s swimming. I need to sit. Thinking I could stand in this condition was foolish. As I release the tension in my legs to crumple, the opposite happens. This man…this boy has the nerve to pick me up. I am in his arms, pressed against him. His left biceps digs into my back; the other arm hooks around my legs. Huh, he smells of frost. My nose notes it as if that’s an important element to life right now.

  Oh blood. What’s going to happen to this guard when Raja Jatin finds out this man is carrying his betrothed? It’s too late. I’ve messed up. I can’t say anything anymore. I’m swimming. Guess I won’t need to ask Zara later how the parade went. I have become a part of it after all.

  Of all the wild things one would expect at a homecoming parade, like an assassination attempt, for instance, a peasant girl throwing herself in front of an elephant is low on the list. Deep, actually, as in, I hadn’t planned for it. Hadn’t been watching the crowd for speed spells that would propel a girl into our path. I mean, what a way to go, death by royal carriage. Gods. A moment after she rolls to the ground and I calm the elephant, I understand. Not a suicide gone awry; a rescue gone well.

  And now, somehow, I’m holding this burned-out witch in my arms and carrying firelight in my pocket. When her arm spilled to the ground like it was paralyzed I knew. Burnout. It’s drastic, but I guess for a peasant one act of bravery can use up a limited supply of magic. Still, I haven’t seen someone suddenly deplete themselves of all their magic since seventeenth year, when one of my classmates was trying to create a fifteen-meter wave. He fell to the sand like a coconut and had to be hauled off to medical.

  She will surely pass out too, but I refuse to leave her in the street. The plan to take her to Azure Palace formed before I could reflect on all the potential downfalls. Like if Adraa is there already, what will she say when I bring in this dust-covered, unconscious girl? What will Father say? At this moment, I don’t care.

  “Zaktirenni,” I whisper, to give myself a little strength. I don’t exactly have a good hold on her, having had to do the whole catch-and-lift motion all at once. I adjust and feel my orange magic take hold. The silk of her skirt shifts under my hand. Thank the gods she is wearing pants too.

  I don’t carry her far, but those six meters ooze intimacy. She heats my chest like the sun has melted between us. That’s probably the burnout. Probably. I’ve never carried a girl before, never done much of anything besides talk to a witch. That’s the problem with a long-term engagement. You always feel obligated, guilty to do anything or form anything but friendship with the opposite sex. Besides, I had studying
, and that was always more important.

  The girl’s eyes are closed, but by the way she clenches and unclenches her hand against her forehead I know she’s still awake. The sun blankets her face, a dirty face. But under the dirt…I can’t help but stare. She’s beautiful; thick black hair windblown and scrambled, long dark eyelashes over even darker lively eyes. With my magic, the girl is light, but even if she were heavy, I would like this. She smells of mud and grass rippled by wind, fresh and real, like when rain wafts spring through the air. And the warmth, it’s…nice.

  “Watch your head,” I say.

  She leans against me, her soft breath tingling my neck. A shiver dances down my spine. I don’t know why I have such a strong reaction, but I hold her closer as I crouch and shift to enter the carriage. I place her on the plush blue cushion and suddenly, just like that, I’m not touching her anymore. The humid summer air strikes me—it’s freezing.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  She nods, then seems to register something and grabs my arm as I move away. “The boy, please. Make sure he doesn’t run. Bring him here.”

  I bend forward. “He’s obviously not your brother. So, who is he to you?”

  She shrugs. “A thief.”

  What? I know my surprise shines through the mask of calm I’m trying to wear. But who can blame me? This is more than I anticipated. The academy didn’t provide training on beautiful girls who run toward enormous elephants to save criminals.

  “All right,” I answer, schooling my features. It’s one thing I can honestly say I did have daily practice in at the academy.

  “Thank you,” she says, before leaning forward to hold her head in her hands.

  Once I’m sure she’s not going to say anything else I ease out of the carriage. Kalyan frowns as he talks to the boy. Kalyan frowning? Never a good sign. When my friend spots me, he walks over, leaving the kid with Samik.

  “Jatin, I think the boy is a thief and the girl was running after him to get back what he stole.”

  “Yeah, I know. And this is what he took.” I dig the orb from my pocket and hold it up.

  “Simple red magic?”

  “No, it’s firelight.”

  “As in Lady Adraa’s invention?” Kalyan inspects it. “Doesn’t look like much to me. Maybe a little redder than normal fire.”

  “The boy said it’s firelight. Now I want answers. Those two have piqued my interest.”

  “That could be their plan, to get close to the maharaja or to you.”

  Or this could be orchestrated by my father: a test to prove myself before I reenter the ice door. Doubtful, but the thought hovers, overbearing and cloudy. “I don’t think so,” I finally answer.

  Kalyan shakes his head. “She seems too pretty and too powerful just to be some girl on the street. I don’t know if you saw it, but she was glowing with magic; had to be, to run that fast.”

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  “You mean take my chances. I’m not letting them know who the real raja is now.”

  I pat Kalyan on the shoulder. “Thank you.”

  I walk over and squat next to the boy so he and I are eye level. Equals. “Hey, so if you don’t mind coming with us, we want to ask you—”

  “No.” The boy’s tone is firm, but his eyes dart sideways first, then everywhere. He’s looking for escape, no doubt.

  “It’s not for me. She saved your life. You owe her.”

  “She has the firelight back. Let me go.” Blood, whatever I say next will sound like a kidnapping. I guess that is what I’m doing, in a roundabout way. Maybe this is a test. You’re going to take a kid in for interrogation because one of the most beautiful girls you have ever seen wants you to?

  My voice hardens and gets gruff, to unnerve the boy. “Get in the carriage.” Well…I’m going to fail this test.

  “Let’s get going, Samik,” I say.

  The boy slips inside the carriage and I follow, Kalyan right behind me. The coach totters into motion. While the cushions aren’t hard, the boy acts as if I’ve forced him onto live coals. One day I will be conducting and rectifying grievances. It seems fitting that as soon as I begin my journey home I have to deal with things of this nature.

  I turn my attention back to the girl, who’s still bent over. She clenches her left hand. The little part of her Touch I can see on her left wrist glows a faint red. Magic must be returning to her. I watch intently, but it’s Kalyan who blurts out the question that loiters on the tip on my tongue.

  “How is that possible? You were burned out three minutes ago.” He may be suspicious, but I’m fascinated.

  “I’m used to it,” she murmurs, without looking Kalyan in the eye. She is obviously uncomfortable in Kalyan’s presence, but of course that’s because she thinks he is a raja. This moment perfectly encapsulates my hatred for my title. The slight dread that stiffens her spine irritates me and makes me restless.

  “So, you always go around throwing yourself in front of carriages?” I ask.

  She directs her gaze at me. As a guard I’m safe. “Not on a daily basis.” Her expression is deadly straight; no wrinkle to let me in on the joke, just dirt and dust. I can read the beauty of her features, that part’s easy. Reading her? This might be a long ride.

  The girl twists toward the child. “Tell me why you stole the firelight.”

  He squirms, looking like he wants to drift into the woodwork. “Because Mom keeps talking about them, how we could heat the stove quicker or light the porch. But they’re hard to find and too expensive. I didn’t think you would miss one when you had so many.” He pauses, wringing his hands. “Please, don’t tell on me.”

  “Expensive! They’re three coppers. Could your mom not afford that?”

  Three coppers is extremely cheap. A loaf of bread averages about fifty or so in this part of the world.

  The boy looks at her strangely. “Three coppers? Firelight is five silvers.”

  “What the blood?” The girl punches the seat cushion. I’ve never heard a witch curse so bluntly. I have to cough to conceal a laugh.

  “Who sets the price?” Kalyan interrupts.

  The girl stares at Kalyan, willing him to look at her. “Your fiancé,” she answers slowly.

  The mere mention of Adraa charges the air. And then, suddenly, I’m watching a staring contest unfold before me. Kalyan is a master of solemn looks and quiet contemplation. If either of them would turn to look at me, though, they’d notice the sweat and the anxiety of homecoming getting the best of me. I feel for the firelight in my pocket. Adraa’s magic. Would this be news to her?

  As I predicted, the girl breaks first and refocuses on the boy. “It’s five silvers in all of Belwar?” she asks.

  He shrugs. “I’m not allowed to go beyond the central square,” he says like it’s obvious information and we should be ashamed of our interrogation tactics.

  “Where do you live? What neighborhood?” Her tone turns desperate.

  “East Village, down by the docks.”

  “Blood, Vencrin area,” she whispers so softly I almost don’t catch it.

  “Vencrin?” I ask.

  “A local gang, bunch of criminals who sell drugs like Bloodlurst to anyone with a piece of silver to their name.”

  I’ve heard of Bloodlurst before, a red powder that can enhance one’s power. One medical report at the academy detailed how addictive and destructive the substance is. It’s killed people. I try to remember its exact effects while the girl continues.

  “I don’t know why they would be interested in firelight unless…”

  “What?”

  “Unless they’re trying to undermine the Belwars.”

  “Or simply turn a profit,” Kalyan suggests.

  “Yes.” She nods. “That’s more likely. But this feels personal.”

 
“Personal?” I ask.

  She doesn’t answer my question, just gives Kalyan a determined look. “I need to go.”

  “Are you sure you—”

  “Please, I can’t go to Azure Palace, or wherever you are headed. I need to get back.”

  Kalyan turns to give me a look, then thumps on the carriage three times in Samik’s direction. The coach slows and then lurches to a stop. The boy scoots close to the door, ready to burst from his confinement.

  The girl glances at the boy and then shuffles closer to me. For a moment, I believe she wants help out of the carriage and I reach for her extended hand.

  “Can I have the firelight?” she asks. I pull off an awkward maneuver to mask wanting to hold her hand. Read that one wrong.

  “Oh, ah, yeah.” I give the firelight to her and feel cold again.

  “Here, kid.” She tosses the orb and he catches it with fumbling hands. “Tell your mom if she has any red magic to add a little every day and it can light a whole fireplace for more than two months.”

  “Thanks.” The boy smiles and then plunges into the street.

  The girl hops down. “Well, thank you.” She pauses and I can see she’s clearly deliberating. “I’m sorry this was such an…awkward meeting.”

  “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” I want her to say no. I want her to keep talking. There is obviously so much I don’t know, about firelight, the Belwars, and her.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. You could say I’m the kind of person who when knocked down can get right back up again.” She stares pointedly at Kalyan. Then something amazing happens: her eyes shift to me, and she smiles, a laughing smile, like we have shared some kind of joke. In the next sweep of a second she’s gone. It’s like magic vanishing into thin air as you’re still trying to determine the spell. The carriage pitches forward again as if nothing has happened at all. Did any of that just happen?

  “Blood!” I curse.

  Kalyan starts. “What?”

  “I never asked her name.”