The Fireblade Array: 4-Book Bundle

by H. O. Charles

  “Kalad.” Artemi took him from Silar’s grasp and handed him to the Kusuru. How symbolic that felt! This did not mean his brief foray into fatherhood was over. Not in the slightest!

  The russet-skinned man gave the child one of his characteristically smug grins, but it rapidly faded into astonishment. “Powerful thing, isn’t he? And here you are, still alive and wielding. So it is true about this cave?”

  Silar very nearly scoffed at the

  stupidity of the question.

  “It’s true.” The queen said with a sad smile. “It’s a chamber full of power, power more basic even than Blaze.”

  Tallyn nodded slowly. “And you have since been upgraded to a goddess, I hear.”

  “I think most of us already knew that,” Silar said in a low voice.

  Artemi arched an eyebrow. She turned her dark eyes back to the other Kusuru. “It’s a long story. Now, you really should meet my other son and my daughter. They have been waiting for you.”

  “Ah, Kahr Tallyn. That is a good name. Will you be joining us, General Forllan?” A very obvious invitation for him to leave.

  Silar suppressed a sigh. “I’ll be in my offices ifI’m needed.” He stalked into the palace with as much dignity as he could summon. It was bad enough that he’d grown so fond of those children, and ridiculous that he now felt as if he was being cuckolded. He could see the next few years mapped out quite clearly now, and would have to start planning his inevitably troublesome encounters with Master Tallyn: The Smuggest Hunter in

  Artemi grinned inanely at her old friend as they paced towards the archery range. Tallyn was looking just as fresh-faced and alive as ever, with caramel hair that brushed over his deeply tanned features. If she hadn’t felt so much like his little sister, she

  might have been attracted to him. Kalad sat easily the Kusuru’s left arm, looking as if he’d grown up there and was happy to stay. Blazes, what sort of influence would this man and Silar have on the child?! She was going to have to bring Orwin in for some sort of balance. “Where did you grow up this time? Was it good? We tried to find you but-” but they had failed.

  He smiled with his usual good nature. “It was a wonderful childhood, Tem. Don’t you worry about that. A nice little farm in Rhofin, with lots of pretty girls in the village.”

  Artemi bit down on an

  exasperated sigh. No doubt he’d been up to his usual tricks. “And your new family, will you bring them here? I... would like it if you stayed, Tal.” At least until he developed the itch to return to Fury Point in Calben. He’d spent so many lives there that the accent had become entirely ingrained.

  He slowed his pace and turned to her. “I’m not going anywhere, girl. And as for my father, well, he’s got a new wife to keep him company. But what about you? I see three children have done nothing to harm those two corset cushions of yours.”

  “Tal! Not in front of him!” she hissed.

  The Hunter merely smirked.

  “I’m fine. Well, mostly.” She hadn’t tried to kill him yet, which was a good sign.

  He nodded. “I’m sure there is much we have to talk about. Not least this curious city you’ve built for yourself. I remember Gialdin being white, but this is... different.” He hitched Kalad up as he walked. “Where are the others? Have you heard from Dorlunh lately?”

  Artemi assumed a silence that she knew he would understand, and looked only at the path ahead. He

  frowned at her, but did not press the subject further.

  The archery range was a lengthy, cordoned-off section of the gardens with youthful trees that lined one side. Tortrix was in his starry, dark green uniform and instructing her two children with his usual vigour. “Draw!” he barked.

  The pair pulled back their short bows as far as they were able.

  “Release!”

  The two arrows fired into the air and, instead of hitting the target, bounced off each other in mid-flight.

  “Those,” her old friend leaned

  over and whispered, “are quite definitely Artemi Fireblade’s offspring.”

  She raised both eyebrows at him, and called to her children instead of providing a witty response, “Tal; Med! There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

  They turned in unison, and her eldest son’s expression was one of surprising excitement. He nudged his sister and whispered something in her ear. Artemi sometimes worried what mischief those two concocted when she wasn’t looking. If it was anything like the sorts of things she used to get up to... She took Kalad from her friend’s

  arms. “Tallyn, Medea, this is-”

  “Tallyn Hunter,” her son finished. He held out his hand to shake with a broad grin.

  The elder Tallyn took it firmly. “Good to meet you. You have much of your father about you.” He turned to Medea to take her hand. “And you, you are as pretty as your mother, which is an achievement in itself.” Thank Achellon he’d decided to pare down his language for her!

  Artemi’s daughter giggled with embarrassment, which wasn’t her usual response. Normally she was wise enough to measure a man’s intentions

  when he paid a compliment. After all, a kahriss needed to keep her wits and not be seduced by sweet words. Then again, The Hunter had a certain roughand-dark beauty about him. The queen made a mental note to discuss the matter with Med later. They rarely discussed the topic of men, though it was something Artemi would have to tackle with her daughter soon.

  The rest of their discussion was polite, pleasant and a relief for the queen after a trialling year. She felt some of those knots in her stomach start to dissipate as she watched her family grinning and laughing with each

  other. Perhaps it would be possible to find a sort of peace without her husband, assuming she succeeded in dealing with that thing in her head. A few hours had passed before she’d managed to put Kalad to bed, and there were numerous other duties to attend to before she could speak to the other Kusuru alone. But, eventually, she was able to take him to the vault where they would be afforded some privacy. Inkeeping with the logic of the rest of the castle, it was located in an airborne turret.

  “I hope you’ve taken good care of my blades.”

  “Of course.” She stepped forward to the vault entrance. There were guards in the nearby corridors, but no muscle was required for this doorway. The locking mechanism employed a very complex Blaze form, which only the queen and Selieni knew. She wielded a small amount, her construction snapped into place readily and the door dissolved before them. They stepped into the windowless, blue glow of the chamber and waited for the door to re-materialise behind them. Her friend’s expression changed dramatically then, revealing the piteous face he’d so successfully hidden. “I’m

  so sorry, Tem. Really. I wish there was something I could say.” He embraced her tightly, but Artemi had spent more than enough months crying that year. She resolved to keep her eyes dry and enjoy the comfort his close presence brought her instead. He released her only when prompted.

  “Thank you, Tal. But there’s something you need to know, something only my children and Silar know about his death. Morghiad didn’t... he wasn’t fighting eisiels.”

  Tallyn’s brow furrowed in confusion.

  She couldn’t force the words

  out. “Come with me.” She led him to the plinth that held his Kusuru weapons. “As you can see, all present and correct. It always amazes me that the forms to make them have lasted this long.”

  “Your work, Tem.” He grinned as he took up the gale swords. “And it was good work. Any plans to make some new ones? And whatever happened to the spears?”

  “I don’t know. Last saw them in Dekusu. And I can’t make new ones without Mirel.”

  He shook his head. “Your daughter is more than strong enough.”

  Artemi hadn’t considered that at all. The training was tough and the forms extremely fiddly, but perhaps Medea could learn them. She had tried teaching other wielders before, and it usually ended in disaster or argument. None of t
hose women had ever experienced the forceful, inescapable glare of an obsessive Daisain. They would also need a very competent blacksmith. Vestuna was good, Tallyn was fair, Romarr was better, but her father’s former employer was the best she’d seen: Master Rautamail. In any case, that was another thought for another day, and her old friend was

  giving her one of his impatient looks. “Morghiad was killed by Dorlunh. But they didn’t fight. He volunteered to be... he asked to die.” She felt all strength drain from her legs, and lowered herself to sit on the white crystal floor.

  Tallyn followed swiftly; his voice was soft. “Why?”

  “Dorlunh thought that Morghiad would do something terrible. He thought that my husband would hurt one of our sons, and that he would – ah, it sounds so ridiculous.” It was ridiculous! She had half thought it possible once, when he’d been so ill.

  But not when he’d recovered.

  “Would what?”

  She sighed. “Dorlunh thought my husband would bring about the end of the world.”

  Tallyn ran his tongue over his teeth as he thought. Eventually he met Artemi’s eyes, but said nothing.

  Her muscles tensed. “What? You think he was right?”

  The Kusuru only blinked at her question.

  “Not. Morghiad,” she said firmly.

  The softness of his words was marked. “You saw what he did at the

  battle in Cadra.” He placed a dark hand on her arm. “Artemi, the rest of us guide the flow of Blaze Energy. He... forced it into place. That shouldn’t even be possible. If anyone I’ve ever met had the ability to put an end to all things...”

  “Or save the world! His heart was good, Tal. I saw inside it. He did good things for so many people.”

  Tallyn frowned. “And yet he tried to kill you.”

  “That was Mirel’s fault! It was a mistake!”

  “There were bad things inside him. I’ve seen it before in other men.”

  That much was true, but he had fought them. He had won! And now one of those things was inside her. She had to succeed, too. “Ever since he died – I... I’ve been having problems controlling my wielding. You should be careful around me.”

  The other Kusuru studied her for a moment. “May I?” He moved his hand to touch hers.

  “Of course.”

  Hot fire filled her skin. It tore along her veins as he touched her and, as with all kanaala, his ability had its own, very familiar signature. That familiarity became rather comforting

  after four-thousand years of knowing it. He seemed to be measuring her, exploring her power and checking for something out of place. “You feel just as wild as ever,” he said at length. “It’s probably just your anger making itself known. You should stay away from my heart.” He winked and glanced over to the glassy object on the opposite plinth.

  The idea of using such an item in her current state terrified her. “There is something else I’d like your help with.”

  “Anything for you, Tem.”

  She tried to shrug off the

  uncomfortable feeling his words inspired. “My daughter could benefit from the gift that Mirel and I share. I want you to make her a hidden wielder.”

  He raised his eyebrows briefly. “That wasn’t easy the first time...”

  “Please? Vestuna and Romarr have left, but there are other kanaala here who are capable enough to aid you. Jarynd for one.”

  A frown crossed Tallyn’s features. “That Sunidaran – Jhontin was better.”

  She shook her head. “No. He’s gone back to his army with the rest of them.” A pity so many of her friends had departed. She missed them all. Something dark stirred in the back of her mind again, and Artemi stamped down on it, hard.

  His frown deepened. “What about your son? If he has half the skill of his father, he should find it as easy as crushing tanno fruit.”

  “He is too young.”

  Tallyn made a small smile. “I don’t think so.”

  Artemi felt a sudden urge to punch her friend in the arm. She succumbed to it.

  “Tem!” he warned with

  mischievous eyes.

  She gritted her teeth. “Fine. The two Tallyns will hide my daughter from the blazed eyes of this world.” She stood. “I’m hungry. Let’s find some bloody food.” Artemi stalked out of the vault with the other Kusuru close at her heels, her stomach and mind rumbling in a strange synchrony.

  Medea folded her arms and leaned against the stable doors. The clothing she had selected for the day was perhaps a little more revealing than it ought to have been. She felt as if the whole castle were looking at her, judging and finding her unfit to wear such things. Perhaps it had been a mistake. Was there time to go back to her rooms and change? The thought was pushed aside as her brother pranced across her field of view, mounted upon their father’s giant warhorse. Tallyn had convinced himself that he needed to behave as idiotically as possible in order to

  impress everybody. Then again, the few things she did rarely impressed anyone.

  “Tallyn, what are you doing on that creature?! Get off him now!” Her mother’s rather furious voice echoed against the stable doors and around the yard.

  The kahr looked sullen for a moment, but did not move from the saddle. “He likes me.”

  “Tyshar does not like anyone! Even with your father he was a battle. Come down. I have some very important work for you.”

  Medea still wasn’t entirely sure

  what her mother had in mind when she had asked them to meet her here, but something about the queen’s tone had made her feel nervous. She turned her eyes to her mother’s companion, the Kusuru Tallyn, and found herself appreciating his graceful swagger. If only he hadn’t shared her brother’s name; it was quite an interruption to her more whimsical thoughts about him. Not that he would ever think such things of her. And not that she cared, anyway.

  Her brother slowly dismounted the huge, black and huffing warhorse. It pawed at the ground impatiently. “He needs exercise,” the kahr said in a very quiet voice.

  The queen came to take the horse from him. “And I will take him out now. I want you and Med to find your own horses.” She turned to The Hunter. “There’s a dun in the box behind you that’ll be the right size. Calbeni blood.”

  The assassin grinned with barely restrained excitement and went to saddle up his exotic animal. Medea turned to look at her own mount, a sleepy thing with brown, velveteen ears. She had owned something rather more spirited before her father died,

  but the last year had seen her mother clamp down on such wild extravagances.

  The kahriss understood her mother’s caution in the face of loss, though it didn’t make the situation any less frustrating. She entered the animal’s box and assessed the saddling on the tame gelding. He nuzzled her with some affection, which was a more pleasant welcome than her old horse would have offered. A quick tightening of the girths was all that was needed to make the animal run-ready and she clambered onto his back. Her mother was already on Tyshar when she re

  entered the stable yard, looking rather diminutive atop the vast creature.

  The queen’s forehead creased as she assessed her daughter. “What are you w-?” she broke off when The Hunter rode out to join her.

  He frowned as he looked at her, too. “Why is the daughter of Queen Fireblade on a school pony?”

  Medea immediately felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She deeply wished that the skies would descend and that the clouds would hide her shameful appearance.

  “She is too young to ride anything silly. Now, we must be

  moving before it’s too late. Where is that son of mine?”

  As if cued by her words, the bronze-haired kahr ambled into the circle upon a horse almost as dozy as Medea’s.

  The Hunter made an irritated noise. “Tem, you are cosseting them!”

  Her mother looked incensed by his comment. “We’ll discuss your opinions another time. Let’s be off.”

  They trotted out of the pala
ce’s enclosure and into the city proper, where the people seemed keen to throw themselves to the floor before their queen. Medea had grown up

  witnessing this odd sort of reverence to her mother, and had at first thought it was quite normal. It was only when she had travelled to Kemen and seen how their royalty were regarded that she realised her family differed. She cast a glance over to her brother. He was smiling and offering nods to the citizens as if they were already his people, but she could see the uncertainty in his eyes. Many people thought him confident or even arrogant, but such assumptions were far from true. She partially understood his problem. Their father had left a sizeable void for him to fill, and the kahr feared that he

  would never be more than a shadow. Medea, on the other hand, had met with a sort of acceptance at her situation. She found herself constantly compared to her legendary mother, and knew very well that nothing she did could ever compete with the storybooks or vast collections of histories. There was no sense in fretting over the problem.

  Before long they’d passed the pointed roofs of the white houses and exited the sprawling gate at the south of the city. The Flame Gate, it was named, owing to the peculiar flares of white crystal that sprouted around it.