The Fireblade Array: 4-Book Bundle

by H. O. Charles

  “Do you have any inheritance to cover this dearth, Miss Fevtari?”

  She shook her head. “There was nothing.”

  “Oh dear.” He shook his head slowly. “It seems our little wren is clipped of her wings. What to do? Is there anyone you can ask to help?”

  “No.” Toryn might have helped, of course, but he was gone now. And she had already taken up enough of his time. It would have been a poor show to take his money as well. “There’s no

  Gilkore opened the folder at his desk and read from it. “You need to find fifty-seven sovereigns if you want to stay here. As you know, you will not be able to enter the army as an officer if you do not complete your training with us.”

  She knew that well enough. Few armies would take even a private soldier on who had started the training but not completed it, least of all Sunidara’s. And fifty-seven! Where had her father found so much money to pay fees like that? “Perhaps if I lived outside of the school... if I found my own meals-”

  “No, Fevtari. If we offered deals to all the cadets who could not pay, we would have nothing to pay the sword masters with. You find the money, you stay. If not, you must find other... employment.”

  Artemi nodded, keeping her features under as much control as she was able. Tears were pressing against the surrounds of her eyes, and she doubted that Gilkore would have much sympathy for them. She was excused, and she left the room with legs made of lead.

  Only a few strides down the corridor, she crossed paths with the

  man she least wanted to see. He stood in her way, of course.

  “Nice to see you too.” He grinned broadly. His braids were looking longer and tidier, clearly having been re-woven. Something new hung in among them where the small sigil of the chalice had been. She was not sure, but it looked like a bird in flight. Whatever its significance, it was lost on her, as was the meaning of the leather band he now wore across his forehead. Morghiad had also grown noticeably taller during his time away, which was rather unnecessary. If she stood any closer, she would have had to crane her neck to look at him. “It feels as if a long time has passed since we last... engaged,” he added, “Do you know, I had never noticed how small you were.”

  She was of normal height. Normal! “Grow too big, and you will grow too clumsy to handle a sword and too slow from your own weight.”

  “I’d be happy to test that theory.”

  “Well, your chances are numbered. I have another month or so here, and then I’ll be gone.”

  Morghiad looked genuinely surprised at that, which was rather

  satisfying. He forced a smirk, but it was quite unconvincing. “They’ve decided to be rid of you then?”

  “There is no one to pay my fees. My father died. Now, may I please leave, or are you going to block up the hallway all day?”

  He didn’t move. Instead his features became unreadable, and his eyes looked elsewhere.

  Artemi placed her hands upon her hips. “Aren’t you going to tease me? Tell me I deserve it or that I drove him to his death? Go on, lord, do what you do best: make fun of me, or kick me in the ribs!” She was quite sure that her voice had not wavered through that. There was no chance that this man would hear any of her weaknesses!

  His green eyes snapped onto her, but no words came from his mouth, and he made no move to attack. His inertia was irritating. Artemi had places to be, namely her bed so that she could have another long cry. Burn him for standing in the way of it!

  “How?” The word was very quiet.

  “How what?” she spat.

  “How did he die?”

  “If you think I am going to tell

  you that, you must have become very stupid in your time away. Now let me past!”

  He hesitated only briefly, then stood aside in silence. His manner was intensely sinister, and it usually meant he was planning something especially nasty. Artemi stalked back to her room with as straight a back as she could muster, then crawled into bed to greet the tears she had promised herself.

  The thing that had given her away, of course, had been that tiny crack in her voice when she had goaded him to make fun of her. No one else would have heard it but him, and no one else would have known of its significance. It had meant that she was upset, and he could not recall when he had seen a chink in her stony armour before. And the woman was made of stone - angry stone equipped with knives.

  Morghiad had not enjoyed his time back in Hirrah nearly as much as

  he ought to have. It was pretty there, and people had the good sense to remember his position in society, but it was dull. Blazes, it was boring! His brothers were average swordsmen at best, his father looked at him as if he might destroy more buildings without warning and anyone who was not of aristocratic blood jumped every time Morghiad spoke. There were no challenges, no puzzles and nothing to make him jump.

  It had, however, been strange to be referred to as Renward again. He had almost come to accept the name that he was so often insulted with here. It fitted him like an old, ugly glove.

  He shifted one booted leg across his knee and chewed on his lip. Artemi was not yet reformed; she was a challenge he had not yet conquered. She irritated him intensely. Yes, he would be glad to see the back of her. She did not deserve to be here. Too powerful and too wilful. Those were not the makings of a good soldier anyway. He had always known that. Right from the moment he had met her, the moment when a peasant girl had bounded up to him with a huge grin on her face, and her hair braided across the top of her head as if she

  were a Hirrahan lady.

  He had told her that she had no right, of course, and had demanded that she undo it. Artemi had refused him; even as a little girl she had been rude and wilful. She still wore her hair like that on occasion, no doubt just to irk him. None of the other Sunidaran girls ever wore their hair in that manner.

  It was a good thing that she was leaving. Thoughts of her had already taken up too much of his valuable time. He glanced across the courtyard, to the opposite side from where he was sat. He had been charged with the task of

  minding some very young cadets as they thrashed hopelessly at each other with their wooden swords, but it had become so repetitive that he was fast losing interest in their falls and scrapes. On the other side of the yard, however, was Edilea. He had not noticed before that she was rather attractive, and that her figure was lacking in noticeable flaws.

  True, she was from a fairly minor Sunidaran noble family compared to his, anyway – but she was pretty with that dark and glossy hair of hers. When she looked his way, he smiled at her. Not a gurning, idiot smile of the kind that the other boys used around girls, but a friendly smile of acknowledgement. She smiled back.

  “Lord Calyrish,” a voice said to his left, “when you have quite finished mooning at the female cadets?”

  Morghiad stood to attention and met eyes with the voice’s owner immediately. It was Master Casbond, who dealt with the wielders and kanaala training. His face was devoid of expression, but Artemi was behind him, and her eyebrows were noticeably raised in amusement.

  “Good to have your attention,” the master said, thrusting his thumbs

  into his waistband. “I have a little challenge for you. This wielder here is to leave us soon, and we need to see that her discharge papers record her potential accurately. I would say she has another four months before her... extraordinary rate of growth levels off, but alas I am not as able a kanaala as you are. So, my challenge to you is to work out what grading she’ll reach, and we’ll see if our estimates tally. Sound good, cadet?”

  “It’ll probably be about twel-”

  The master cut in, “Don’t let your ego dictate it, lad!” He pushed Artemi forward. “Explore it; let her

  power tell you itself.”

  She looked remarkably calm and content to be there, which was something to suspect. Was this another test of Casbond’s? He was not above letting them fight each other for sport.

  Morghiad took hold of the hand that
she held out, sending a storm of fire along his arm that threatened to burn it off at the shoulder, and remained passive to its power. It was a strange thing to feel coursing along his veins. It wanted to burn him to tiny flecks of ash, it called to him to be controlled and yet it would writhe and slip through his grip each time he went

  to take it for himself. The other wielders felt like that to some degree, but Artemi’s fires were in a completely different league. They were wild, unruly and feared nothing, least of all him. Morghiad could not have said whether her personality had given them that particular quality, or whether her character had grown from The Blazes themselves.

  All that energy and anger and force, locked up inside of her. It sometimes surprised him that she did not burn the entire city to the ground from the heat of it. The wildness of it was what made her ability difficult to

  quantify. He could sense that there was a distinct difference between them, and that he could hold everything she possessed in the same way that he could wrap his hand around a kefruit to pick it up. Other kanaala said it was too heavy a burden for them to lift, or that they could not gain enough purchase on it to do so.

  He wandered around the edges of the inferno without taking hold of it, inspecting it for any evidence of maturity or stabilisation. He found nothing that gave him any certainty. Morghiad identified the streams of wielder fire that always lived in his

  consciousness. He could match Artemi’s stream up with the power he now touched, and he could say with certainty that it was halfway between a grade ten and eleven. He could see the other streams in the world, and the woman whom he would put at about grade thirteen. There were two more women who were notably strong, if a little less so than Artemi.

  He had watched Artemi’s stream grow since she was a child, and he had known that it had been an unusually rapid growth. He had been so close to it, however, that he found it hard to really measure. Too close to the candle

  flame to see the inferno raging about. Another four months at the same rate of growth... He found himself no closer to an answer, and decided to take hold of her power to see if it helped.

  As was typical, Artemi’s flames kicked and bucked like an unbroken horse as he tried to gain control of it, but once in his grasp, more wild horses of fire came running toward him.

  “Nice of you to be gentle for once,” she said quietly.

  He ignored her. The Blazes were now running through his body in full force, pleading to be wrought into a

  form he was not permitted to make here. He pushed the urges aside, and tried to listen to the pulses and whisperings of the Energy that burned through him. He held most of what she was able to provide him with now, and was vaguely aware that Casbond had uttered some words of warning to him. But the roar of her power in his head was deafening. He felt as if he were alight from it!

  How much more than this could there be? And then he saw it. In his mind’s eye, he walked into a chamber that was far larger than any great hall he had seen, or even the domed

  practice gallery at the school. It was representation of the holding cell for her potential power, and it was vast.

  The ground lurched beneath him suddenly, and her fire vanished from his being faster than he could blink. He felt empty, weak. Morghiad struggled to suck air back into his lungs, and a few moments passed before he realised that Casbond had pulled them apart. Even Artemi appeared to be stunned by the experience.

  “I told you to explore,” the Blaze master said with exasperation, “not wield everything the girl has! Bloody light, one sneeze and you could

  have burned this place to nothing!”

  “I wasn’t going to wield it.”

  Casbond folded his arms, eyes narrowed. “Well, you need to learn some self-control then, because taking that much in will make wielding a very likely outcome. Only ever take what you need, lad. And you-” He turned to Artemi, “-it’s up to you to stop him.”

  “But I thought with you here, it-”

  “But nothing. Now, back to my original question. What do you think?”

  Morghiad did not want to say it. He did not want to admit... Artemi more powerful than he was! The

  thought of it made the contents of his stomach boil. This was not right! She should have been put down at birth, not allowed to run about with this...

  “Well?”

  “Fourteen,” Morghiad murmured. The word stung his lips, made his tongue feel dry.

  “Are you absolutely sure? There’s a possibility-”

  “Fourteen,” Morghiad repeated. He did not look at her. He did not need to. He knew that her expression would be full of smug grins, thinking herself superior to a lord. She was not his better, not by a thousand leagues! He

  had always been stronger than her, both physically and in his abilities with Blaze.

  “She will overtake even you, then,” Casbond said under his breath, though it was an utterly unnecessary statement. “This is a huge responsibility you bear, Miss Fevtari. Be wise with it.”

  “I will, Master Casbond,” she said with a smile in her voice.

  Burn her! It didn’t matter how powerful she was, anyway. A kanaala of any strength could still quench her before she knew what was happening. Maybe he ought to do it before she was set free upon the world. That would be a very sensible thing to do.

  Morghiad decided that he would think upon it over the next few evenings. He looked back at Edilea, who was now gracefully practicing her sword fighting forms. She could provide him with some entertainment of a different kind once Artemi was gone. He suppressed a sigh. The world he had come to know was changing rapidly. Yes, it was clear he had rather a lot to think on, and not much time to do it.

  Linfar laughed heartily. He truly did have a handsome smile when he used it. His golden hair hung to the base of his shoulder blades, so fine and straight that it could have been spun from the metal itself, and his eyes were an icy silver. Artemi could not help but grin like a fool whenever she was around him. True, their relationship

  could never become anything more than a close friendship, but Toryn had said that sometimes such interactions were necessary to remind oneself that it was possible to be appreciated or even loved. She was much more than a weapon, he had said to her. Linfar made her feel as if she had a heart.

  The last three weeks had been far easier than she could ever have expected. She had made her physical preparations to go without any sort of impedance from the House Mistress. The blades masters and tutors had all been surprisingly sympathetic to her fall from favour, and even Morghiad had

  decided to cease his torments for the time being. While she had been spending her time with Linfar, Morghiad had been lavishing his attentions upon Edilea. Artemi almost pitied the girl.

  Ulena had been a little subdued, perhaps, and Artemi was going to miss her closest friend. But Ulena was as tough as Sunidaran olive oaks, and certain to make it as an officer in the army. Perhaps they would be able to fight side-by-side one day, whenever a battle called for Artemi to be a mercenary wielder. She had dreamt of that the previous night, and had been

  horrified when Morghiad had shot forth from the enemy ranks to quench her. Very unpleasant. She smiled at Linfar again, and did another impression of Gilkore’s angry voice.

  Linfar seemed to find it highly amusing, at least until his smile dropped from his face. He was looking at someone beyond her.

  She spun rapidly to meet whatever horror stood there. “Master Zandrin!” Well, that was better than Gilkore!

  “Indeed. Miss Fevtari, I ought to remind you that imitating superiors is not well looked upon here.”

  “Of course, please forgive me.” She cast her eyes to the floor in apparent contrition.

  “Good. Come with me a moment. My apologies, Master Holvinn, I must borrow her.” He nodded to Linfar. Zandrin led her to an empty teaching room and sat on one of the empty chairs. Artemi made sure to keep level with him. “Well,” he began, “it seems I have some congratulations to offer you.”r />
  “Congratulations?”

  “Why yes, for the money you raised to pay your fees. How you did it, I’ll never know, girl. But it is quite

  an impressive achievement!”

  Artemi blinked at him. “Money? What money? I raised nothing!”

  Zandrin’s eyebrows knotted together. “The captain said he found it on his desk this morning, all fifty-seven sovereigns of it. A note was attached saying it was to be paid toward your costs. Are you sure you know nothing about it?”

  She did not. Unless... Toryn... could he have found out? Or Silar... the man who knew of everything that would happen before it happened. Of course! He had foreseen it, and he had foreseen how to fix it! Though, quite

  why he would have any interest in her, she could not work out. She had always assumed that he had wanted her to do something for Calidell, but keeping her on a path to join Sunidara’s army would not help him with that, surely? She shook her head. Her benefactor had chosen to do this anonymously, so she could hardly anticipate the motive without first knowing the identity.

  “I suppose I had better start unpacking and unsaying my goodbyes, then.”

  Zandrin patted her shoulder. “You certainly should. It’ll be good to