Fire Study - Study 03 s-4

by Мария Снайдер

  “We can consult Gede. He is another Story Weaver, but he is also a descendant of Guyan and may have more information.” Moon Man stole my ginger muffin and ate it.

  Although I was curious to know more about how Guyan had reunited the Sandseeds after their civil war with the Efe Warriors, Moon Man’s comments reminded me I needed to try to contact Irys and let her know what had happened.

  We finished breakfast and made arrangements to leave. Moon Man and Tauno would get the horses ready while Leif and I tried to communicate with Irys.

  We returned to our room. I lay on my bed.

  “Do you think you can reach her from this distance?” Leif asked.

  “I hope to, but I may need a boost of energy.”

  Leif sat on the edge of my bed. Closing my eyes, I drew power to me and projected my awareness toward the Magician’s Keep in the Citadel. I bypassed the chaotic jumble of minds in the city and reached for the wide-open fields marking the eastern border of the Greenblade Clan’s lands. The few livestock I encountered hunched against the damp wind.

  Pushing past the barren farmland, I aimed for the white marble walls of the Citadel. But my mind stretched thin as if it had turned to taffy. Leif’s warm hand encompassed mine and a surge of strength pushed my awareness further, but I couldn’t reach those walls. The effort left me drained.

  Leif gave my hand a squeeze before he stood. He searched through his pack and before I could ask, he handed me a yellow leaf rolled like a scroll.

  “Eat it,” he said. “It’ll give you energy.”

  I sniffed. The leaf smelled like spearmint and rosemary. An odd combination. As I crunched the leaf, the bitter mint taste dominated and it shredded like paper in my mouth. “Yuck. What is it?”

  “A baka leaf. One of Father’s discoveries.”

  After a while, I felt better. We packed our bags and joined Moon Man and Tauno in the stables. The four of us mounted. Leif and Marrok rode together on Rusalka and headed toward the city’s garrison. Marrok would borrow one of the guard’s horses for the trip to the Citadel.

  The rest of us went east through Booruby’s crowded streets. Tauno shared Kiki’s saddle with me, and Moon Man rode Garnet.

  When we reached the Avibian Plains, the horses broke into their gust-of-wind gait. We traveled until the sun set then halted to rest. Our stopping point was a bleak section of the plains. A few stalks of grass clung to the sand, and no trees or firewood were in sight. Tauno reconnoitered the area as soon as he dismounted.

  Moon Man and I tended the horses. Once they were fed, watered and rubbed down, Moon Man removed the oil nuts Leif had given to him. One of my father’s finds, the oil nuts would burn long enough to heat water for stew. The night air smelled damp, hinting at rain.

  After arranging the fist-size lumps into a circle, he lit the nuts on fire by striking two stones together to make a spark. I guessed Story Weaver powers didn’t include lighting fires. Interesting.

  Tauno returned with a couple rabbits he had shot with his bow and arrow. He skinned the animals and added the meat to the stew.

  After dinner I asked Moon Man about Guyan. “What happened between the Efe rulers?”

  “Just over two thousand years ago, the Efe Tribe was a peaceful nomadic people, following the cattle and the weather.” Moon Man reclined against Garnet’s saddle, warming to his tale. “Before becoming an official member of the tribe, the young people would make a year-long pilgrimage and bring back a new tale for the tribe. It is said that Hersh was gone many years, and, when he returned, he brought back knowledge of blood magic.

  “At first he taught a few Efe magicians, called Warriors, how to boost their powers. Little rites requiring a drop of their own blood. The extra power would dissipate when the task was completed. Then Hersh showed them how to mix their blood with ink and inject it into their skin. Now the power did not dissipate and they became stronger Warriors. Soon they discovered using another’s blood was even more potent. And heart’s blood, taken from the chambers of the heart was incredibly empowering.”

  Moon Man shifted his weight and stared into the black sky. “The problem with using blood magic is it becomes addictive. Even though the Efe Warriors were powerful, they wanted still more. They did not kill their own clan members, but sought victims from neighboring clans. No longer content to follow the cattle and forage for food, they stole what they needed from others.

  “This abuse continued for a long time. And would have continued if an Efe named Guyan had not stopped the Warriors. He kept his magic pure. Sickened by the horrors he witnessed, Guyan organized a resistance. The details of the battle are lost to time, but the amount of magic pulled from the power blanket was enough to knock over the Daviian Mountains and shred the blanket of power. Guyan organized what was left of the clan, and established the role of Story Weavers, who helped mend the people and the power.” Moon Man yawned.

  I compared his story to what I had learned about Sitian history. “Can you really mend the power source? I read a history where a magician had bunched the power around himself, and it took two hundred years for it to smooth out.”

  “Guyan was the first Weaver,” Tauno said. He hadn’t moved a muscle during Moon Man’s story. “Guyan’s incredible powers could mend the power source, a skill not seen in another since.”

  Moon Man agreed. “The blanket is not perfect. There are holes, tears and thin patches. There might come a point in time where it will be worn away and magic will be a story of the past.”

  A loud pop sounded from the campfire. I jumped. The last of Leif’s oil nuts sputtered and died, leaving the three of us in darkness. Tauno offered to take the first watch as Moon Man and I readied for bed.

  I lay awake shivering in my cloak, thinking about the power source. Finding out about those holes called Voids had been a nasty surprise. Alea Daviian had dragged me into an area without power to torture and kill me. Being unable to access my magic, I had felt quite helpless. The fact I had been tied to a cart had reinforced my complete lack of control. Alea erred by not searching me for weapons, and I had used my switchblade to escape.

  Alea had also wanted to collect my blood and I wondered if she’d planned to perform the Kirakawa ritual on me. I supposed I wouldn’t ever know. I couldn’t ask a dead woman. Or could I? An image of invisible spirits hovering over me filled my mind and I felt as if a layer of ice coated my skin.

  The next morning we ate a cold breakfast of jerked beef and cheese. Moon Man estimated we would reach the Sandseeds’ main camp by late afternoon.

  “I tried to reach the elders,” Moon Man said. “But there is a strong barrier of protective magic tenting the encampment. Either my people managed to fight off the Vermin and this new shield is a safeguard against another attack, or the Vermin have taken control and are defending themselves.”

  “Let’s hope for the first one,” I said.

  We mounted and rode for most of the day, stopping only once to rest the horses. Before we reached the point where we would be visible to the Sandseeds’ camp, we halted. Tauno would scout the camp and report back.

  Taking off his bow and arrows, Tauno doused himself and his clothes with water then rolled in the sandy soil. Granules clung to his skin. He blended in so well with the surroundings, he soon vanished from our sight.

  I paced and fretted while Moon Man appeared serene.

  “Worrying can not change anything,” he said to my unspoken question. “I would rather conserve energy for when we can do something.”

  “You’re right, of course, but on occasion logic does not win against emotions.”

  He shrugged. I resisted thinking worrisome thoughts and focused instead on what I could do.

  Smells? I asked Kiki.

  Sweet. Home, she replied. Itchy.

  Clumps of mud clung to her copper coat. I rummaged in my pack until I found the currycomb. I was still combing Kiki when Tauno returned.

  “The camp is secure. If we leave now we can get there before dark,” Taun
o reported.

  As we prepared to go, he told us what he had seen. “Everything looked normal. Yanna washed clothes and Jeyon skinned a hare. I crept closer and saw the elders arguing over the fire. The children at their lessons. The youths practicing with their wooden swords. Many heads drying in the sun.”

  “Heads?” I asked.

  “Our enemies,” Moon Man replied in a matter-of-fact tone as if decorating with decapitated heads was a normal occurrence.

  “It is a good sign,” Tauno said. “It means we have won the battle.”

  Yet Tauno didn’t look happy. “Did you talk to anyone?” I asked.

  “Yes. Jeyon signaled to me everything was fine. I did not want to waste the daylight finding out the details.” He peered at the sky. “A hot meal by a warm fire will be most welcome.”

  I agreed. Tauno joined me on Kiki’s back, and Moon Man mounted Garnet. In high spirits we joked and raced to the Sandseeds’ camp.

  The gray twilight waned as the white tents of the camp became visible. Many Sandseeds had gathered near the fire. A few stirred the contents of large cooking pots, and, by the heady aroma, I guessed venison stew bubbled inside. Yum. Others waved to us as we approached. We slowed the horses.

  The air shimmered with the rising heat. I scanned the area with my magic, but felt only the strong protection Moon Man had mentioned. The magic didn’t feel like an illusion, but my experience was limited.

  When we crossed the magical barrier, I braced myself. Even Tauno gripped my waist tighter. But the scene didn’t change. The Sandseeds stayed the same. Three men and two women came over to us as we stopped the horses while the rest resumed their evening’s work.

  The women’s faces appeared to be strained with either worry or grief. There must have been Sandseed casualties. The Sandseed men grabbed the horses’ bridles. An odd thing to do, considering they had trained the horses to keep still. Kiki reared. I held her mane as she jerked away from the Sandseeds’ grasp.

  Bad smell, she said.

  Firelight flashed on steel. I turned in time to see a mass of well-armed Daviian Vermin erupting from the tents.

  CHAPTER 15

  TAUNO’S BOWSTRING TWANGED and I yelled, “Go! Go! Go!” Kiki was free, but two Sandseeds held tight to Garnet’s bridle. A quick glance to the side revealed ten feet separated us from the fastest Vermin.

  I pulled my staff from my pack as Kiki turned. She used her rear legs to keep the Vermin occupied while I brought my bow down on the temple of a Sandseed holding Garnet. A pang of regret touched my heart as the man crumpled to the ground. He had probably been forced to ambush us. But I didn’t let the feelings stop me from attacking the second man clutching Garnet.

  “Go! Go! Go!” I yelled again.

  Even with Moon Man’s scimitar, Tauno’s arrows and my bow, the Vermin outnumbered us. It was only a matter of time before they would overrun us. In a flurry of hooves and steel and shouts, the horses headed away from the Sandseed camp, breaking into their gust-of-wind gait.

  We had ridden through most of the night to get as far away from the Vermin as possible. The horses slowed. Heads down, they panted. Their coats gleamed with sweat. Only a couple dark hours remained. Dismounting, we removed their saddles. While I walked the horses to cool them down, Moon Man and Tauno searched for wood and game.

  No one said a word. The shock of the attack had yet to wear off and the vivid memory of it played over and over in my mind. The ramifications alone were too awful to consider right now.

  We ate another rabbit stew in silence. I thought about our next move.

  “The elders…” Moon Man’s voice seemed loud in the thick night air.

  “Are still alive,” Tauno said. “For now.”

  “Would they kill them?” A shudder gripped my body at the thought of all those drying skulls.

  “The trap was sprung. They have no need for them,” Moon Man replied then seemed to reconsider his words. “They might keep them as slaves. The Vermin are lazy when it comes to domestic tasks.”

  “And they’re just busy beavers when it comes to ritual killings and gaining power,” I said. “Lucky us.” The scene once again flashed in my mind. “Do you think some of your people escaped?”

  “Perhaps. They would have left the plains, though.” Moon Man considered. “The Sandseeds no longer control the protective magic over the Avibian Plains. To stay within its borders would be too dangerous for them. Right now, the Vermin are using the protection to keep their presence a secret, but now that we have fled, I believe they will use it to find us. Perhaps to attack us with magic.”

  “Then we shouldn’t linger long. Is there any way to know if they find us?”

  “We can create a barrier to alert us to an attack and maybe deflect an initial foray.”

  “We should saddle the horses in case we need to make a quick exit.” I stood.

  “That would be prudent.” Moon Man helped me with the horses.

  Kiki snorted in annoyance when I tightened her straps.

  Tired, she said. Don’t need. Smell good.

  For now. If the smells turn bad, we can leave faster. I fed her some peppermints and scratched behind her large ears. She sighed and her eyes drifted shut.

  After the horses were ready, the three of us sat in a circle around the fire.

  “Maybe we should douse the flames.” Worried that the Fire Warper would sense me through the blaze, I hadn’t used my magic near a fire.

  Moon Man dumped water onto it. Puffs of gray smoke rose into the air.

  “Yelena, I want you to pull threads of magic and I will do the rest,” Moon Man instructed.

  Concentrating, I gathered strands of power. Moon Man plucked the strands from me and weaved them into a net around us. Tauno’s pinched and sullen expression reflected his discomfort. As the only one without magic, he didn’t have the ability to see the protection building around us.

  When Moon Man finished, I disconnected from the power source, feeling drained of energy. The net pulsed with magic even though we no longer fueled it. I wondered why it still worked. In all my past efforts, the power dissipated as soon as I stopped using magic. Except for my mental connections with Kiki and Irys, every time I wanted to heal or project I had to consciously draw from the power source. Yet the Sandseeds had their protection, and there were other lingering spells.

  An image of the knife in Valek’s suite came to mind. When Valek had assassinated the King of Ixia, the King cursed him, vowing his blood would stain Valek’s hands forever. Since magic doesn’t work on Valek, the curse transferred to the knife instead. The King’s blood still clung to the blade and remained as wet and bright as the day the King had been killed.

  I asked Moon Man how the protective net stayed active.

  “Mostly we channel the magic through us. But there are times when you can loop the power back to the source. It can be very difficult to do, and, by having you draw the power, I could save my energy for knitting it together and redirecting it back to the source. Large-scale protection like the one covering the Avibian Plains and the Sandseeds…”

  A hitch of emotion stopped his words. He closed his eyes and swallowed his grief before he continued. “Huge magical loops require an immense effort by many magicians, but can be effective for a long time. The protection we just created will last for a few hours before dissipating. Enough time to give the horses a chance to rest.”

  “And then what?” I asked, but he looked at me. Leif’s comments about my role as commander flittered through my mind. I answered my own question. “We leave the plains. Head toward the Citadel and let the Council know what’s been going on with the Vermin.”

  “Hopefully they will already know. The Sandseed survivors would have gone to the Citadel.” Moon Man scowled. “If there were any.”

  Waiting for the horses to regain some of their strength proved to be difficult. Our protective net flashed whenever the Vermin’s magic scanned the area. So far the net hid us from the Vermin, but each encounter
weakened the fibers.

  The desire to flee and the need to sleep battled within me. I wanted to stay awake in case the Vermin attacked, but I dozed off and on until the sky brightened with the rising sun.

  The few hours before dawn had been enough time for the horses. We mounted and headed northwest, riding hard. During our rest breaks, Moon Man searched for any sign the Vermin’s magic had found us. I projected my awareness to learn if they physically pursued us. In our haste, we left a physical trail even my untrained eyes could follow.

  A couple hours short of the Avibian border, we stopped for a longer rest. Moon Man proclaimed the Vermin had lost us, and I couldn’t sense anyone nearby.

  Since we had been traveling together for fifteen days, we automatically attended our chosen tasks, even with the Daviian threat hanging over our heads.

  By the time I had finished rubbing down the horses and seeing to their needs, I smelled rabbit stew cooking on the fire.

  Tauno sat next to the pot. His shoulders hunched as if a great weight pressed down on him, and his attention remained fixed on the ground. He hadn’t uttered more than a few words since yesterday. Perhaps he felt guilty and responsible for leading us into an ambush. I debated discussing it with him, but considered he might be more comfortable talking to Moon Man. I wondered if Moon Man was his Story Weaver. Every Sandseed had a Story Weaver to guide and advise them throughout their lives.

  I glanced around, realizing Moon Man hadn’t returned from collecting firewood even though a pile of branches rested near the cook fire.

  “Tauno, where’s Moon Man?” I asked.

  Tauno didn’t even lift his head when he said, “He was called to the shadow world.”

  “Called? Does that mean another Story Weaver survived the Vermin attack?”

  “You will have to ask him.”

  “When will he be back?”

  Tauno ignored the rest of my questions. Frustrated, I circled the area, searching for Moon Man, and found his clothes in a heap on the ground. I moved to return to the fire and bumped into him.