SpringFire

by Terie Garrison

  The trees themselves seemed to be working against me, impeding my progress. I tried to summon my maejic so I could command them to assist me, but it was gone. Anazian had taken my maejic. Again.

  Tears streamed down my face, making it even harder to see. But I couldn’t stop my feet from running.

  Both my heart and my body grew cold, and I no longer felt the pain of crashing into things. Faster and faster I moved, until a large object tripped me up and I fell in a heap, striking my head on something hard.

  Someone was shaking me. “Donavah. Wake up. C’mon, wake up.”

  I opened my eyes to find myself lying in mud next to a fallen log. I was so cold I could hardly move.

  The someone shook me again. I struggled to sit up, and strong arms helped, then began wrapping me in a cloak—my cloak.

  “Are you all right?” And now I recognized Shandry’s voice.

  I peered at her, to find her looking at me with a concerned expression.

  “Are you all right?” she repeated.

  My teeth chattered so I could hardly speak. “I … I think so. What hap … hap … happened?”

  “Let’s get you moving first. Can you stand?”

  Barely. I certainly couldn’t have without her help. We started walking slowly, carefully, back to the cave. I leaned against Shandry, and she kept an arm around my shoulders, guiding me along the way and using her free hand to push branches aside.

  “I couldn’t sleep and decided to try to find some water to drink, and I found you dozing next to the fire.”

  I groaned. I’d fallen asleep on watch. Even in my confused and half-frozen state, my heart sank.

  “When you got up and went out without putting on anything warm, I thought you must be walking in your sleep. And you were moving fast. I grabbed your cloak and followed, but I lost you when you started running. Lucky for you it didn’t take me long to find you once you fell.”

  “Grey will kill me when he finds out I fell asleep on watch.”

  “Then we won’t tell him.”

  My ability to think seemed to be thawing. “Why are you helping me?”

  “I couldn’t just let you die. You would’ve, you know, on a night like this with nothing to keep you warm.”

  “A few hours ago, I bet you wouldn’t have minded letting me die.”

  After a short pause, Shandry said, “Not strictly true. I might not mind letting Grey die. But I don’t have anything against you. Watch your step there.” She steered me around a small boulder.

  “Grey’s not so bad,” I replied.

  “Hmm. Maybe not,” she said in a suggestive tone that I didn’t like one bit.

  Back in the cave, I sat near the fire while Shandry heated some water. I drank it without bothering to make it into tea. Then I got a rag from my pack and used the rest of the warm water to clean the mud from my face and hands, and as much from my clothes as I could. It wouldn’t do for Grey to notice it and ask. When I felt recovered enough, I woke Traz up and lay down to sleep until my next watch.

  In the morning, both Shandry and Grey moved slowly and stiffly, as if they were in pain, though neither of them would admit it. Shandry was true to her word, not saying anything to Grey or Traz about my lapse the night before. We were all hungry, which didn’t improve our irritated tempers. Still, we had to start planning this journey Xyla had set us to.

  Grey, bruises purpling on his face from the previous night’s fight, took charge. “There are two main things,” he said. “The route to get to Delaron, and supplies for the road.”

  “As far as the route,” Shandry said, “I know the way. There’s a road not far from here that goes over the mountain pass and down to the desert. Delaron is a little less than two weeks journey by foot into the desert.”

  Grey gave a curt nod. “Which leads directly to the question of supplies. We,” his finger sketched a little circle in the air indicating himself, Traz, and me, “don’t have anything.”

  “Again, not a problem,” Shandry said, giving Grey a flirtatious smile that set my teeth on edge. “I have supplies at my cottage. And a pony we can use to carry the baggage. Speaking of which, I need to get back soon to feed him.”

  “So it’s just as simple as that?” Grey asked, his tone heavy with suspicion. “Last night you try to kill me, and this morning you’re willing to leave everything behind to help us?”

  Shandry’s shoulders drooped a little, and she looked down at her hands. “Well, you know, it’s a chance to get away, do something different.”

  I opened my mouth to ask what she meant, but Grey made a motion with his hand and I remained silent. In a low, neutral voice, he asked the question himself.

  When she raised her head, the expression on her face was bleak. “Do you know what it’s like to be alone—truly alone? To never have anyone to talk to, to do things with? Because that’s what my life is. Looking after myself, a pony, and a bit of garden. Seeing other people twice a year when I stock up on supplies, and them not wanting to talk to me beyond setting the price of goods. Have you ever been just plain tired of your own company?”

  I felt the anger go out of Grey at these words. “Yes,” he said softly, and I knew it to be true. “Actually, I do know.”

  “Then you should understand. I’m sorry about last night and all, but we did catch each other by surprise. Can’t you get past it?”

  Grey took a deep breath and let it out again. “Xyla said to trust you.” The struggle he was having with himself was obvious. I bit my lower lip, waiting for him to reply.

  “All right,” he said.

  Shandry nodded solemnly.

  After that, things began to happen quickly. Grey decided that he and Shandry would go to her cottage to get the pony and supplies. She practically glowed at that suggestion, telling Grey he could have one of her bows and a proper quiver full of arrows, and a bad feeling grew in my stomach. Or, more accurately, in my heart. Traz would hunt for our evening meal, and I would keep watch. Stupid job, I thought, as I watched Grey and Shandry walk off together. What exactly was I supposed to do if someone came? Fend them off with my nonexistent fighting skills? I couldn’t even defend myself, much less an unconscious dragon, and thinking back to Shandry and Grey’s fight the night before didn’t help me feel any better.

  I had such mixed feelings about Shandry. She was strong and capable, much like Grey. And while she seemed to have a heart as hard as rock, she’d been kind to me when there wasn’t any reason to be. She was also pretty and closer to Grey’s age than I was. He had a lot more in common with her than he did with me. After half a day in her company, he’d probably never spare me another thought.

  Well, at least Xyla’s plan meant that Grey would be staying behind while Shandry took Traz and me on the journey to this Delaron place.

  Sitting alone while the others were gone, letting my imagination run away with itself—especially on the subject of Grey and Shandry—didn’t improve my mood. And my fear was realized when I heard their laughter as they came back.

  Shandry led a tan-colored pony who was laden with a large number of packs and bundles. The pony seemed loathe to come inside, and I couldn’t figure out why until it struck me that he must be afraid of Xyla.

  “C’mon, Dyster,” Shandry said, tugging on his reins. “It’s all right. She won’t eat you.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that, but the poor beast couldn’t spend the night outside. “Maybe we should put him in one of the other caves,” I suggested.

  “Good idea,” Grey said.

  Once we’d unloaded everything and took it all inside, I led the way to the nearest cave, where Shandry unbridled Dyster, hobbled him, and filled his nosebag. Then we went back to the main cave without either of us having said a word.

  Grey was in the midst of sorting which things were staying and which w
ere going. He showed me a bow, exhibiting far more enthusiasm than necessary.

  “This is much better than that one I made. It’s probably better than the one I left behind. And it’s only Shandry’s third-best bow.”

  “Oh?” I asked in a dry tone. “She didn’t give you her best?”

  “No,” he said, “she’ll need her best ones for your trip.”

  He really didn’t get it. I turned away from him to the stores they’d brought. Potatoes, flour, apples, nuts. More cooking gear. A few loaves of bread. Sweetening and jars of preserved fruit. Grey would eat like a king. Shandry took a few things and busied herself at the fire, making something to go with the roasted rabbits.

  Dinner turned out to be delicious. There was a pot of hot grain that looked like porridge but had a strong barley flavor. Instead of butter for the bread, there was something that Shandry called leten, a beige-colored paste with a slight cinnamon flavor. There was also a hot drink that had an orange-ish tinge and a spicy flavor, with much more zip than the morning tea I was used to. Traz and Grey both had second and third helpings.

  Xyla slept on. Everything about her seemed out of kilter. Her heartbeat was strong and steady now, and she wasn’t in any pain, but she simply couldn’t seem to get into any sort of rhythm of life. It was as if she were juddering along, a half-beat behind everyone else.

  Shandry seemed genuinely concerned, and that made me feel a little better disposed to her. Whether I liked it or not, we were going to be traveling together for a few weeks, and we were going to have to get along.

  Next morning, before we left, Grey took Traz aside and said something to him, to which Traz responded with a solemn nod. It was easy to guess that Grey was telling Traz to look after Shandry and me. It annoyed me that Grey thought I needed looking after by a young boy, until I realized that he’d done it merely as a kind gesture toward Traz.

  Then the three of us who were going made ready to go.

  Xyla lifted her head and said, “You will have success, Donavah.”

  “I hope so. I don’t know what we’ll do if this doesn’t work.”

  “Do not worry. It will work.”

  Her certainty made me suspicious. “Do you know something you’re not telling me?”

  “Go now, little one. I am hungry.”

  On the last comment, Grey’s head jerked up. “Off with you, now,” he said. “I need to get going myself. Don’t want a hungry dragon on my hands.” He grinned.

  Then we were all saying goodbye. I hoped Grey would kiss my cheek, but he didn’t. He stood in front of the cave and waved when I looked back one last time. Shandry led on, and Traz and I followed.

  A half-played game of Talisman and Queen lies before me, the jewel pieces glowing as they sit on the black velvet, embroidered with glittering silver thread. The Queen’s Heart, made of diamond, gleams at the center. Ranged about are the Talismans: mine, garnet; my opponent’s, opal.

  I cannot see against whom I play. Shrouded in shadow, the brooding presence lies as if in sleep, absorbing energy and my concentration. It seems to suck the very air from the room. I can scarce breathe.

  The game is almost won. My heart tells me that with a single move, I will Secure the Queen’s Heart. But my brain is frozen, unable to make sense of the game pieces. A wrong move, and my enemy will take all.

  A voice breaks the silence—a familiar male voice that echoes around the room growing in power instead of fading away.

  “Your move,” it says.

  Lightning begins to flash. The sky gleams blood red in between flashes.

  “The game board is set. It is your move,” the voice says again, taking the last of the air with it.I fall into a black pit of nothingness.

  And then I awake.

  The first day passed unremarkably. I wasn’t sure if I thought that was an omen of good things ahead or otherwise. The road was easy enough to follow as it carved a wide path clear of the surrounding woods. It was a new experience for me, traveling by foot but not having to carry a heavy pack. I could get used to this, I thought, watching Dyster being led by Shandry. I’d tried to speak to the pony, but he turned out not to be very talkative.

  All morning, Traz marched well ahead of us, twirling his staff endlessly—before him, above his head, to one side, then the other. It made me dizzy watching. I wanted to tell him to stop, but what harm could there be in it? Besides, it would just ruin his fun to no good purpose.

  Around midday, we stopped for lunch. As I’d noticed before when traveling by foot, the simple food tasted better than expected, as if the exertion of the outdoor exercise improved the flavor. Or maybe just the appetite. But the day was cold, and we didn’t stop for long.

  Shandry cast an eye at the sky above the mountaintops ahead of us. “I don’t like the look of those clouds rolling in,” she said.

  I looked where she pointed to see a dark bank of clouds. “Maybe we should’ve waited, not left so soon.” I didn’t like the idea of traveling in a storm.

  She shook her head. “No point in that, really. It’s early Spring and there will be storms. Can’t do anything about it except wait a few months. And I’m thinking waiting wasn’t really an option, was it?”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head at the thought of not doing anything at all for Xyla. “Not an option.” I gritted my teeth. We’d just have to deal with whatever the weather threw at us.

  The breeze began to pick up. A gust caught Traz’s staff mid-twirl and blew it out of his grasp. He let out an almost pained cry when it struck the ground, as if he could feel the impact himself. I was going to have to talk to him about this strange obsession he’d developed.

  We caught up with him as he brushed the staff off. “Maybe it’s time to give it a rest,” I said. “You’ve been thrashing that thing around all day. If you keep it up much longer, your arms might fall off.”

  He started to object, then caught my eye and grinned. “You’re probably right, Mother.”

  Well before dark, Shandry insisted on finding a place to camp for the night. “This time of year,” she said, “and this high up, storms can blow in fast. We want to be sure we’re in a good place before dark.”

  “You think it’s going to rain tonight?” Traz asked.

  “I’ll be surprised if it doesn’t. Feels like it might even snow. We’ll want to find someplace sheltered.”

  So even though it was still at least an hour before nightfall, we started looking for a likely spot. The road went through a small clearing that had a huge boulder along one side. If we positioned ourselves in the lee of the boulder, we would escape the worst of the wind.

  “No,” Traz said, his voice full of certainty. “There’s something better a little farther along.”

  Shandry gave him a sharp look. “How do you know that?” I wondered exactly the same thing myself.

  “I dunno,” Traz said with a shrug. “I just do. It’s that way.” He pointed the staff away from the road, a little to the north.

  Shandry sniffed. “Well, I don’t know this part of the mountains well, but I’m sure I know them better than you do. And I say we stay here and make camp now.”

  Both of them looked at me, obviously expecting me to cast the deciding vote. What should I do? Shandry was right that Traz couldn’t possibly know the terrain around here, but experience had taught me to trust him. I frowned.

  “I don’t know, Traz. This seems like a good spot. If it turns out you’re wrong, we might not have time to get back here.”

  He gave me a look as if I’d just slapped him across the face. “But … but … ” he spluttered. “Oh, fine. Side with her.” He whirled around and stomped off in the direction he’d pointed.

  Shandry rolled her eyes. “What’s up with him? He’s generally the sensible one.”

  I ignored the jibe. “He’s usually right a
bout these things.”

  “So go off with him,” she said, turning away from me and securing Dyster’s reins to a nearby tree.

  Now what to do? Stay and help Shandry set up camp, or go find Traz? Had he actually gone to find this shelter he believed was there, or had he just gone off to sulk? I took a deep breath and let it out again.

  “I’m going to get Traz,” I said.

  “Suit yourself.” Shandry began kicking leaves and stones aside.

  I went off in the direction Traz had gone. I couldn’t track him, as that wasn’t a skill I’d even begun to learn. But I had learned how to distinguish individual life vibrations back on Hedra, and I’d practiced most on Traz, so surely I could find him that way now. I unblocked.

  The vibrations of the forest here were much like back home on Hedra, but there was a subtle difference, like the scent of an unfamiliar spice. The trees spoke to my heart, luring me on to explore their secrets.

  I forced myself to concentrate. I had to find Traz. Where was his vibration in all this residue?

  Then, like an almost-forgotten scent, there it was. Just the tiniest thread, and I followed it. Stepping carefully, trying not to make any noise, I moved forward. But it was impossible to walk quietly. Old dead leaves and dried twigs crunched underfoot. Still, I made a game of trying.

  I imagined my maejic sinking down into my feet, dampening any noise my steps might make, eliminating all sign of my passing. It didn’t work at first, not while I kept my mind on it. But once I gave up trying, my footsteps grew quiet. It was as if the trying were the thing that interfered with letting the maejic work.

  I finally caught up with Traz near a small cliff face. He was leaning against an old stump, hunched over something in his hands. He started when I cleared my throat to announce my presence and he hastily shoved the thing into his pack.

  “There,” he said, pointing to an opening in the cliff. “I told you.”

  I scowled, first at the cave and then at Traz. “I don’t understand. How did you know?”