SpringFire

by Terie Garrison

  Finally she opened a door and led me into a room.

  “Be fast about it,” she said, pointing to a recessed area. “And put this on when you’re done.” The thing she tossed at me fell at my feet when I failed to react fast enough to catch it.

  I picked up what turned out to be a shift of fine linen. The guard waved a hand impatiently toward the cubicle, and I went into it.

  Where I found, luxury of luxuries, a small pool filled with steaming water. I didn’t even care how such a thing could be. I peeled off my filthy clothes, only now noticing how bad they smelled.

  “Toss me those rags,” the guard said.

  I did, and then I stepped into the water. It stung at first, but I didn’t care. Ah, but to be clean again. I found a pot of soft soap on the far side, as well as a firm sponge. I scrubbed and scrubbed, then scrubbed some more at my skin, trying to remove not only the layers of dirt and filth and stink, but also the remembrance of the past days.

  When I got out, my skin was red from the vigorous scouring, but at least I felt clean. I dried off with a towel I found on a shelf, then slipped on the shift. The guard told me to follow her, and with a sigh, I did.

  I couldn’t guess where she was taking me now, though I had a vague hope that it would involve food. What I didn’t expect was for her to open a pair of ornately decorated doors, bow as she entered, then step aside, leaving me face-to-face with Rennirt.

  There is music in the starlight. Did you not know? Have you not heard? It has a beat of compelling sweetness, guiding one’s steps into a delicate pattern. There it is now. Can you hear? A melody that whispers, a harmony that soothes. Together, they delight one’s soul, giving power the taste of honey and the scent of rain-washed air. Ah, it tugs at my soul and calls me to join in the dance of the stars.

  That twinkling sound—do you hear? Can you guess what it is? ’Tis the music of the stones. Ah, you expected a music deep and strong, did you? Nay. For it must be a light sound to be carried on the swirling currents of the stones. Take this. Cradle it in the palm of your hand. Join in the song and hold not back.

  Every tree has its own voice. Some are buoyant and frothy, full of lightness and air. Some are ponderous and slow, singing of the deep truths of the world. Some flit between melody and harmony, joyous in their rhythm as they declare the glory of the earth like the night breeze plays across the sands.

  Heavy beats the rhythm of the sun. Can you feel it luring your feet to follow its lead? An irresistible bass melody cannot help but draw you in. Feel its power in your soul. Feel its harmony in your heart. Take flight, my child. The bold pattern of the sunlight becomes evident in the dance. Let your spirit drink in the joy and refresh you.

  Breathe in the rhythm; exhale the beat. Ride on the melody like the breeze. The air imbues all life with its music. Indeed, it is the first earth music most hear. Without air, there is no life. So, too, music. Pick up the harmony and float on it. Let it carry you away to a place of power, where your soul can be refreshed.

  ~from the teachings of Gedden, lore master

  I froze just outside the door. Rennirt rose to his feet, a smile of delight on his face. With difficulty, I suppressed the urge to run.

  “We meet again at last,” Rennirt said, as if we were old friends long parted. He took one of my hands, which I managed not to snatch away, and led me into the room.

  It was an intimate sitting room, furnished with padded chairs and a settee upholstered with delicate needlework. There were dainty, spindle-legged tables, and a merry fire crackled in a fireplace. Candle sconces and framed paintings ornamented the walls. It was beautiful, and I hated it.

  Rennirt led me to the center of the room and stopped me under the bright light of a crystal chandelier. Turning to face me, he placed a hand on each of my shoulders and examined the hateful mark on my cheek.

  “Yes,” he murmured. “Ganwin outdid himself this time. I will have to reward him with extra gold pieces.” He lifted one hand and, with the lightest touch of a fingernail, traced a pattern. Though his touch was gentle, it left behind a trail of heat. “Not quite tattoo, not quite scarification. Beautiful. Now that I’ve mastered silver, I shall turn my attention to gold.” At my startled frown, he chuckled. “Oh, yes, my dear. There is real silver in that pigment. Gives it its glitter, its shine. Now, come sit, and we shall chat.”

  I took the seat he indicated, but I didn’t relax, didn’t let down my guard.

  He sat in a chair facing me, and it was all too reminiscent of the last time we’d been seated in such an arrangement. A chill crept down my spine, and I tried not to shiver in response.

  Rennirt put his elbows on the arms of his chair and pressed his long, slender fingers together under his chin. His emerald eyes bored into mine, and though I wanted to look away, I found I couldn’t. What exactly did he want of me?

  And then I felt something riffling my thoughts, as if thumbing through the pages of the book of my mind. Almost instinctively, I began to block, a maejic technique used to keep external vibrations from one’s spirit so as not to be overwhelmed; it was the only defense I could think of now.

  Rennirt blinked. And frowned. He pursed his lips, and I could feel the thread of his thought trying to break through. I held my breath and concentrated. Whatever Rennirt wanted from me, I wasn’t going to let him have it.

  The battle went on, for moments maybe, or maybe hours. It ended when Rennirt leaned back in his chair, eyes closed as if in exhaustion. He raised a hand and pointed at me.

  “You will give me what I want.” The left side of my face began to grow warm. “Sooner or later.”

  He stood up, and my face burned hotter. I put a hand to it, but the skin felt normal to my touch, cool even. Yet from within, it felt as if it were on fire. Rennirt walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. My face grew hotter and hotter, as if the skin must burst into flame soon.

  In agony, I looked around the room for something to cool the fire. But there was nothing. No, wait. There must be a window behind the curtains and, being exposed to the cooler air outside, it might help. I stumbled over and pulled the heavy fabric aside. A black void of glass. I pressed the side of my face against it, hoping for relief.

  But the fire burned hotter.

  I fell to the ground, sobbing in terror. What kind of power could do this? How could I counteract it? I tried to withdraw my mind into myself, but the pain was too great to ignore.

  I lay there shivering in the chill air and frequently crying aloud in pain, while my face smoldered. As time passed, the heat began to fade, little by little. When I felt I could move again, I sat up and leaned against the nearest window. The cold went straight through the fabric of my shift and into my spine. Hoping the magic was wearing off, I once again pressed my cheek to the glass.

  The fire re-ignited.

  The shock of it made me scream.

  Deep within my soul, I heard laughter.

  I lay on the floor without moving for a long time. The burning slowly dissipated, like coals burning themselves out, and still I lay there.

  I considered my situation. Rennirt wanted something from me: my power. I must resist him, that much was clear. But how, when he was so strong and had such an effective tool to control me.

  The solution seemed elegantly simple when I finally thought of it. And what I must do first was get myself under control. Somewhat shakily, I rose to my feet. I felt weak, as if I’d not eaten in ages. Then I realized that, in truth, I hadn’t. No help for that now. I padded around the room, hoping that the beautiful elements of it would soothe my spirit.

  The paintings that hung in their carved wooden frames were exactly what one would expect to find in any aristocratic home: portraits, hunting scenes, still lifes, and scenery. All very beautiful, yet filled with details that made them foreign. Hounds of unusual breeds I didn’t recognize, unfam
iliar fruits in amongst the ones I knew, and a flat, barren land with little foliage and much sky. The people were mostly a dark-skinned, handsome folk who dressed in brighter colors people wore back home.

  And then a thought struck me. Maybe people from this part of Hedra also had dark skin. I’d never had occasion to meet anyone from Ultria, for there had been little trade between it and Alloway in my lifetime.

  Well, be that as it may, it had nothing to do with my own here-and-now. I went to the settee and sat down. I wanted to rest only for a moment, but without realizing I’d done it, I curled into a ball and fell asleep.

  At first, red dragons filled my dream. Xyla was there, so these must be her babies. Yet they were grown. They flew through the air in sweeping patterns, their paths crossing and curling into intricate knots. Then everything went fuzzy and out of focus. My blood boiled and my flesh roasted. A laughing hand gave me a skinful of water to drink, but took it away before I was satisfied. If only the heat would break. Ah, but for a cool stream in which to dip my toes.

  A rattling sound jarred me out of my sleep. A girl about my own age walked in carrying a tray. I sat up, trying to shake off the dream. It had felt so real, as if my whole body were actually on fire. The girl set the tray on the table, and I saw that it held a basket of steaming bread whose fresh-baked scent began to fill the room and make my stomach rumble. There was also soft cheese and leten. She lifted a cover to reveal a bowl of soup. And best of all, there was a large pitcher of water—enough, maybe, to quench my thirst at last.

  When I’d finished eating, the girl reappeared. She went to the curtains and opened them wide, letting in a flood of sunlight. Sunlight! It must have been years since I last saw it.

  Next thing I knew, I stood at the window gazing out. On the other side was a courtyard, around the corners of which lay wide flowerbeds, mostly dormant now but with buds beginning to swell with the stirrings of Spring. A stone fountain rose from a pool in the center. The pool was surrounded by a lawn on which the morning dew sparkled. Boxwood hedging, less than a foot high, was laid out in a complex design: a labyrinth or, perhaps, a knot. I touched my cheek with trembling fingers but felt nothing there, not even the fine lines of scar tissue.

  What did it look like? I took a deep breath, steeled myself, and focused my eyes on the glass in front of me. But though I could see a vague reflection of my face, I couldn’t see any detail, certainly not any thin silver lines.

  I felt more than heard Rennirt enter the room. My shoulders stiffened, and I forced myself to relax. I couldn’t let my body give away my plan.

  He cleared his throat and I turned around, composing my face into a suitably subdued expression.

  “Let us see if you have now learned your lesson. Please, sit.” He gestured to the chair I’d sat in the day before. With purposely halting steps, I walked across the room and took my seat, keeping my eyes downcast.

  Rennirt sat across from me. I stared at my hands in my lap, bracing my mind for the assault I knew would come any moment.

  Yet, like a cat with a mouse, he toyed with me.

  It was unsettling, sitting there in the silent room, waiting for an attack that didn’t come. Then, like the gossamer wings of a dragonfly, I felt the touch of his thought in my mind. I resisted, as I knew he expected me to. He made an inarticulate sound, and I put more effort into my resistance. Once begun, the pressure grew unabated. I closed my eyes, putting as much of my power into blocking him as I could.

  The tension in my entire body increased, and my muscles knotted up. My shoulders hunched until they seemed to be at my ears.

  Just when the pressure became unbearable, I relaxed, body, soul, and mind. Collapsing backward in my chair, I could now only hope my plan would work—that, thinking I’d completely given in, Rennirt would range freely and not notice that I continued to block him from my maejic.

  It was a risky strategy, but it was my only hope. To continue actually resisting him would only encourage him to work harder to break down my barriers and search more thoroughly.

  Rennirt let out an audible sigh, as if he, too, were relieved. I kept my eyes closed and formed a black sphere in my mind and focused all my thought on that.

  “A red dragon,” he muttered, the words startling me. “A handy steed to have at beck-and-call.”

  I concentrated on breathing and on the black sphere.

  “But whence?” he whispered, so softly I barely heard it. “Whence comes your power?”

  A breath in. Black sphere. Breath out.

  A distant sound of commotion began to grow. I tried to block it out, to keep concentrating on the void in my mind, but soon it was right outside the room.

  The door opened with a crash that made me jump. Rennirt was on his feet before I could turn around to see this new threat.

  “You will release her now,” a loud voice boomed across the room.

  I twisted around to see a tall man, taller and darker than even Rennirt, standing just inside the doorway, his rich red cloak billowing around him from the force of his movements. Or maybe from the force of the power that emanated from him and filled the room. He took another step, and two more people came in behind him: a man and a woman, also dressed in red cloaks.

  “You have far overstepped your bounds this time,” said the first man, and I noticed that the words almost formed a melody, as if he were singing. “The time has come to put you in your place. And to make sure you stay there.”

  The man’s eyes, which were a brown so deep they almost looked black, fell on me. A thrill went through me, but one of joy, not fear. I couldn’t seem to move, though. My mind hadn’t truly unfrozen yet, and my thoughts were disheveled. He smiled, not a threatening smile like Rennirt’s, but one of gladness. My heart leapt, though for what reason I couldn’t tell.

  “Take her,” the man said to the other. “Kelben and Breyard await.” And now I jumped to my feet to go to these people.

  “No!” shouted Rennirt behind me. “I do not recognize your authority here.”

  And I froze in place. Not of my own volition; no, something held me in place like an invisible net.

  “You soon will have no authority, Rennirt, here or anywhere.” The man thrust his hand toward me, palm out. The other two came nearer. I willed myself to break free of Rennirt’s power. All I had to do was put one foot in front of the other. Concentrating hard, I made a foot move. Not a full step, but at least something.

  Then the man and the woman reached me. One on each side, they picked me up and carried me out of the room.

  “No! I will not allow … ” Rennirt’s words were cut off.

  When we reached the front door, the man set me on my feet. The two of them took my hands and we dashed out and down the stairs.

  There on the wide lawn before the door, stood a huge red dragon. For a moment, I thought it was Xyla, until I realized that this one was even bigger than she.

  “It is good to see you at last,” said a deep, musical voice inside my head. “I am Kelben.

  “I’m honored,” I replied, almost automatically because there were too many things happening too quickly, and I felt overwhelmed. I now saw that there were two more red dragons standing on the lawn, and several more circling overhead. Red-robed figures moved toward me, and, best of all, Breyard rode astride Kelben.

  I am surrounded by a kaleidoscope of wood. It encircles me all around, above and below even. Power envelopes me, holding me tight.

  I have always loved wood, but the trees from which these branches grew are bitter. I try to escape, but there is no way out. Every direction I turn, I find a maze that dazzles my senses.

  I thirst. I burn. I cry out for water, for even just a moment’s release.

  And Anazian laughs.

  Breyard grinned and waved at me, and I ran to Kelben; indeed, I doubt any magic would’ve been strong e
nough to stop me.

  “Mount up, little one,” Kelben said. “I shall soon fly you far away.”

  I scrambled up, needing a hand from Breyard, and was soon seated far above the ground, my brother behind me holding me in a tight hug. I leaned back against him and felt a little of my tension slip away.

  “How can this be?” I asked. “Who are these people? And how can you possibly be here?”

  Breyard shook his head. “Too much to tell now. I’ll fill you in later, once we’re all safe.”

  There was a muffled sound of a distant explosion. I looked back and saw for the first time the place in which I’d been imprisoned.

  A castle stood basking in the Spring sunshine, its yellow stones almost gleaming. It might have been pretty to someone like me who wasn’t accustomed to such things, had it not exuded such an air of threat. The evil was palpable, though perhaps it was only my imagination.

  I had only moments to take this all in before everything seemed to happen at once. The man who’d stayed behind sped out the front door, his red robe flowing behind him. He ran straight to Kelben, making a leap that must be propelled by magic and landing softly in front of me. The other two mounted the dragons standing nearby as figures began to pour out the front entrance of the castle.

  With a rush of wings and wind that blew my hair away from my face, all three dragons were airborne. Looking down, I saw that the buildings were laid out in a labyrinth design that quickly grew indistinct as we flew away.

  It was cold aloft, and I wished I had heavier clothes. I shivered, and Breyard held me tighter.

  “She’s freezing!” he shouted.

  The man in front of me looked back, a frown of concern furrowing his brow. He nodded once, and a moment later the dragon swept around into a new direction.

  Below us, the forest began to thin and break up. Ahead, the land flattened out and took on a yellowish color.