Facing the Fire

by Carol Beth Anderson

  Relin’s smile was just as broad as Camalyn’s, but his appeared genuine. “I have no idea.”

  Camalyn raised her eyebrows and again sat up straight, looking around at the others in the room. At the top of the list of her husband’s annoying traits was this: Relin was an incompetent king. He could barely speak without Konner there to guide him. Camalyn knew that was one of the primary reasons Konner had chosen Aldin. Konner wanted to be the most powerful person in Cormina, and the most effective way to do that was to control an amiable, weak king.

  Well, perhaps the king was weak, but the queen wasn’t. “Lord and Lady Singer,” Camalyn said in a voice that rang through the room, “you may approach the throne.”

  Camalyn wouldn’t have categorized Lord and Lady Singer as likeable, but they were the least unlikeable of the nobility present. They were young, materialistic, and snooty, but they also displayed a genuine desire to handle their new responsibilities well.

  A week into Relin’s reign, he’d invited the city’s wealthiest to this very room. He’d named them lords and ladies, the first members of his court. They had the ear of their king and new power in their community. In return, they had to pay higher taxes, which would help fund the army Konner was building.

  Lord and Lady Singer bowed before Relin and Camalyn. When Relin asked them to rise, Lord Singer spoke in a nasal, affected tone. “Your Highness, we have questions about repairs which are needed in the water lines near the coast.” The Singers had been named the Ministers of Utilities.

  “Repairs?” Relin asked. “To water lines?”

  Camalyn looked at her husband and saw the panic in his eyes. He knew nothing of utilities, but the Singers didn’t know much more. Many members of the new nobility considered their new leadership positions to be honorary; they allowed experienced people to handle all the details. The Singers actually wanted to run their department for some reason.

  Camalyn smiled and rescued Relin by saying, “Lord and Lady Singer, perhaps you could explain the issue in detail?”

  In less than a minute, she realized her mistake. She had no interest in utilities, and Lord Singer had taken her “in detail” instruction far too seriously. Camalyn schooled her face into a mask of polite interest, urged her cursed stomach to relax, and hoped desperately for an interruption.

  Konner Burrell and his guest arrived in the lobby of the temporary palace. The secretary didn’t dare stop Konner when he walked straight up to the door of the throne room, opened it, and entered.

  A couple of nobles—he didn’t remember their names—stood before the king and queen. The man was droning on about something banal. Konner strode up and whispered in Relin’s ear.

  Relin cleared his throat. “Lord and Lady Singer, can you wait in the lobby for a little while? Konner—uh, the chief minister—needs to talk to us. In private.”

  Lord and Lady Singer looked unhappy but knew better than to argue with the king or his chief minister. They turned and walked toward the door.

  Konner looked around the room and repeated loudly, “In private! Guards can stay; everyone else, go.” He glanced around, and his gaze landed on the servant, who’d stepped away from the corner and now stood in the middle of the room, clearly unsure what she should do. “Bring tea,” he commanded.

  In half a minute, the room was empty except for the two guards, Konner, Relin, and Camalyn.

  Konner gave his monarchs a wide smile. “I have something to show you.” He returned to the door, opened it, and beckoned. A woman entered. Konner guessed her to be about thirty. Her dress wasn’t fancy, but it fit her curvy figure impossibly well. She gave Relin and Camalyn a wide smile, then fell to her knees, bowing her head.

  “You may rise,” Camalyn said.

  The woman obeyed, and Konner, who’d already approached the throne platform, beckoned her forward. When she’d walked across the room to face her king and queen, Konner said, “I’d like to introduce you to Tela Talger.”

  “Great to meet you, Ms. Talger!” Relin said.

  Camalyn’s head remained facing forward, but her eyes shifted to her husband. He was smiling widely at their attractive visitor. Konner had never thought of Camalyn as the jealous type, but perhaps pregnancy was already making her more sensitive.

  “Ms. Talger, activate your magic,” Konner said.

  Talger gave her king and queen a questioning look. After they nodded, she inhaled and exhaled once, quickly and deeply. Her mouth and hands glowed with golden light.

  “Twice-blessed, very nice!” Relin said. “What can you do?”

  In answer, Talger grinned and lifted her finger up, several inches from her mouth. She formed her mouth into an O and exhaled. Half a second later, her breath ignited, a stream of flames starting at her lips and traveling several inches.

  Konner had seen her do the trick many times, but it still pleased him. Camalyn gasped. Relin stood, laughing, and approached Talger. He slapped her on the back. “That was incredible!” he said. “Can we see it again?”

  “Hold on,” Camalyn said from her seat. “I agree, your gifts are impressive. But I’d like to know exactly what you did.”

  “My fingers create sparks,” Talger replied. She held her hands up, and all ten fingers shot off flashes of silver. “And my breath turns into . . . well, I don’t know what, but it’s something that can catch fire.”

  “Once more?” Relin sounded like a pleading child, but Talger happily agreed, sending a spurt of fire even further than before.

  “Excellent,” Konner said. “You can release your magic now.” When Talger was no longer glowing, Konner put his hand on her shoulder. “Let’s have a seat.” Konner turned to the guards. “Chairs.”

  The guards brought two chairs over, placing them in front of the throne platform. Talger, Konner, Camalyn, and Relin sat. The servant returned with tea, so a guard dragged over a table too.

  Konner dismissed the servant, ignored the tea, and turned toward Talger. “You were telling me recently about all the resistance you tend to experience. Can you elaborate on that?”

  Talger’s face turned sour. “Magic is only powerful if it works. More often than not, I activate my gifts, and they fizzle out as soon as I try to use them.”

  Konner nodded and leaned forward, ensuring his expression exuded compassion. “As you know, Sava himself has given gray magic to your king and queen and a select group of other Blessed. Gray magic can be used without resistance. Without restriction. And we believe Sava wants us to share this gift with a few faithful people.” He looked pointedly at Relin, who appeared befuddled.

  Camalyn did what she did best: filled the awkward silence. “Ms. Talger, I believe with all my heart that Sava wants to give you the gift of gray magic too.”

  Talger grinned. “Is this a joke?”

  “We wouldn’t joke about such a thing,” Konner said.

  Finally catching up to the others, Relin asked, “Are you up for it?”

  Talger laughed and said, “Of course!”

  Konner didn’t smile, and when he caught Talger’s eye, her face grew serious. He said, “If you are to join such a favored group, you must know the truth of gray magic. And you must never speak of it to anyone, save the few of us who already know.”

  “I won’t tell,” Talger said.

  So Konner gave her the truth. But he didn’t use such vulgar words as kill or murder. He spoke instead of justice and loyalty. He informed Talger that in the city jail was a sun-blessed woman who had threatened her new king and queen with death. Talger needed only to be Sava’s hand of correction, ending the woman’s life and stealing her breath. The kingdom would be rid of a dangerous woman, and in her death, that same woman would build the kingdom by giving Talger the gift of gray magic.

  Talger looked unsure. She shifted her attention to Relin who somehow reacted in precisely the way he needed to. He gave her a smile—not cheerful or flirtatious, just encouraging—and said, “I know you can do this.”

  Looking a little less doubtful,
Talger looked at her queen. “It would take courage,” Camalyn said, “but in my experience, Sava blesses courage. Relin and I would be immensely gratified to know the alarming woman Konner mentioned could no longer threaten our lives.”

  Konner gave Camalyn a smile of approval. She probably realized the “dangerous woman” he’d spoken of was Revinee, the touch-blessed old crone who’d altered Ash’s face months earlier. Revinee hadn’t threatened the monarchy; Konner doubted she’d even helped Ash escape. But if she ever switched sides, she’d be dangerous. She might change ten men’s faces so they all looked like Konner. Or she could help fugitives disguise themselves. She’d be of best use giving Talger a gray awakening.

  Talger still didn’t look certain, which surprised Konner. He’d known her for some time. She didn’t hide her craving for prestige. She was also bitter about being given a gift so prone to resistance. Perhaps she needed one more incentive.

  Konner turned to Camalyn and Relin. “I’ve been training Ms. Talger.”

  “Training her in what way?” Camalyn asked.

  “Combat and leadership. As you know, our new army needs skilled leaders. This summer, I realized I was doing our soldiers a disservice by sending them leaders I hadn’t trained myself. Most of our army officers are former safety officers, and while they understand justice and, to a point, combat, they may not be equipped to lead large groups of men and women.” He smiled. “Every person, soldier or not, wants to be inspired by those they follow. What would be more inspirational than an officer who is herself a weapon?”

  “Good point,” Relin said.

  Camalyn was silent. Konner ignored her and spoke again to Talger. “In training you, my only hesitation has been this: Soldiers do not want to follow someone who is weak. Limited. The current state of your magic could result in many embarrassments, were you to lead an army. Once your magic is gray, you will be free of those limitations, your magic at your disposal whenever you need or want to use it. More importantly, each time your hands and mouth turn gray, you will remind your soldiers of the monarchs you represent. In short, Ms. Talger, gray magic will turn you into a general.”

  Konner watched the change in Talger’s eyes. Uncertainty shifted to something stronger, something visceral. Ah, yes, this woman wanted power; she wanted it above all else. Despite those eyes, so alive and hungry, Talger’s voice was soft and humble as she gazed at her king and queen and said, “I would be honored to serve Sava by protecting you.”

  There were congratulatory exclamations and reassurances, which Konner participated in, despite his impatience with such nonsense. A few minutes later, Talger exited. Holding the door open, the secretary asked if he should bring Lord and Lady Singer back in.

  “No, leave us be,” Camalyn snapped.

  Konner greeted the statement with raised eyebrows, and Camalyn responded with a look of pure disdain. The door closed, and she turned straight to him. “You think you can train some pretty young woman for a few months, and she’ll be an amazing general?”

  You and the man beside you became monarchs with no training whatsoever. Konner bit back the statement, instead bestowing a look of patient condescension on Camalyn. “Talger is sharp, motivated, and above all, she’ll follow our instructions. Anyone can learn to lead. The soldiers will respect her for her gift, and I’ll make sure she takes our army in the direction we desire.”

  “Isn’t a colonel leading them already?” Camalyn asked. “The army is still so small; why do we need a general?”

  “I’m not confident in the colonel’s willingness to do whatever it takes to further Cormina’s interests. However, he used to be a head safety officer, which gave him valuable experience. He’ll stay in place, but with more limited power.”

  “The colonel seemed pretty smart to me,” Relin said.

  “Loyalty is more important than intelligence,” Konner said.

  Camalyn crossed her arms. She reminded Konner of a sulking child. “It would’ve been nice to know about this in advance,” she said. “You, Relin, and I must present a united front. You brought that woman in here without telling us, forcing us to agree with you.”

  Exactly. Konner sat up straighter and locked eyes with Camalyn. “You and Relin have given me the responsibility of building a successful army.” That wasn’t quite true; he’d decided to do it then informed them it was the only reasonable path to take. “You can’t honestly believe you and Relin have more expertise in this area than I do.” The derision in his voice was thick as tar. Again, he saw Camalyn’s confidence falter.

  “Of course not,” she said.

  “Very well.” Konner stood. “I arranged for both of you to sit on those thrones. Let me do my job keeping you there.”

  Not waiting for a response, he turned, walked to the door, and opened it. “Lord and Lady Singer,” he said, “the king and queen would be delighted to continue their conversation with you.” He turned back to Camalyn and Relin and gave them a benevolent smile.

  Chapter Three

  When students enjoy their magical training, they develop their gifts more fully and retain more of what they learn. I did not always see things this way; it was my students who changed my thinking. I wonder if they know how much I learn from them.

  -From Training Sun-Blessed Students by Ellea Kariana

  Tavi and Narre exited the Meadow’s laundry house and walked toward the cottage they shared with Reba and Wrey. The autumn day was warm, and Tavi gloried in the feel of the sun on her skin, a luxury after being cooped up for most of the past eight hours.

  She smiled at Narre. “The only good thing about working in that place is that you’re there too.” She yawned. “I hope our next assignment starts later in the day. I’m tired of getting up before dawn.”

  Narre yawned too, stretching her arms high above her head. “They might not want you to move on to another assignment at all! They’ve liked having a healer available.”

  Tavi held her hands out. The washing soap dried the skin and made it crack, and that same soap caused the little cracks to sting. So once each shift, sometimes twice, she took a break from laundry duties to heal the skin of anyone who asked.

  Speeding up her pace, Tavi said, “Let’s get home; I need a snack.”

  Narre raised an eyebrow. “Our cottage is ‘home’ now, is it?”

  Tavi shrugged. “For now.”

  As they approached the little house a few minutes later, Tavi’s face broke into a smile. Tullen sat next to the door, his legs stretched out in front of him. He returned her smile and stood.

  “Come on in!” Tavi said, and they all entered the cottage. She cut three thick slices of bread, and Tullen buttered them. They all sat down to eat. “How was hunting?” she asked.

  “Great. I bagged a few squirrels this morning, and just before lunch, I shot a huge deer. One of the biggest I’ve gotten.”

  Tavi grinned. “You need to ask that lady—what’s her name?—to make venison sausage again.”

  “Rokal,” Tullen said.

  “That’s her. Rokal makes the best sausage.”

  Narre sighed. “My mother makes great sausage too.”

  With those words, it was like someone had blown a mist of pure despondency into the room. The only sound was that of three mouths chewing. Finally, Narre spoke again. “Sorry. I miss my mother. I miss everyone.”

  Tavi swallowed and tried to smile. “Me, too. A year is a long time.”

  Tullen licked butter off his thumb, then said, “I understand.”

  He really did understand; Tavi knew that. He’d been away from the Meadow for longer than a year before his unexpected return. He’d missed his family too.

  Tullen cleared his throat. “You know, the sooner we can get Camalyn and Relin—”

  “It’s Aldin,” Tavi interjected. She did her best never to use the fake name Konner Burrell had given his puppet king.

  Tullen’s mouth curved up in a half-smile. “The sooner we can get Aldin off the throne, the sooner we can all go home to
Oren. It’ll be safe to be in public again.”

  “That’s true,” Narre said.

  Tavi chewed her last bite of bread and suddenly realized both her friends were staring at her. She stood. “Of course it’s true. That’s why we’re gathering information on the Grays. That’s why we’re creating strategies on how to fight them and how to stay alive in the process. Because you know who can’t go to Oren? Dead people.” She walked to the cottage’s open front door. “You coming?”

  “Where?” Tullen and Narre asked in unison.

  Tavi grinned. “Play time!”

  It took less than ten minutes to walk to the park near the center of the Meadow. It wasn’t crowded; most Meadow Dwellers, including the other Golds, were still working.

  Tavi, Narre, and Tullen walked along the gravel path that circled the park. It was lined with trees, many of which were losing their leaves.

  When they’d first arrived at the Meadow, going to the park had made Tavi ecstatic. After their months in Savala, stuck mostly inside the midwife house, she’d reveled in the freedom to walk outside. She was used to it now, but she still had a greater appreciation for the outdoors than she ever had before.

  “What’s the plan?” Tavi asked. “What should we practice today?”

  Tullen laughed. “Almost half a year in the Meadow, and you still want a list posted next to the practicum door!”

  Tavi shook her head, but she was smiling. “Point taken,” she said. “Let’s play.”

  They walked to a large, grassy lawn in the middle of the park. A few mothers and fathers played with their young children. More youths would likely join them soon, when school ended for the day.

  Tavi stopped when she realized Narre was no longer beside her. Turning, Tavi saw her cousin holding a fairly flat rock and a stick. Both of Narre’s hands were glowing. She brought the two items together, holding the end of the stick on the edge of the rock. When she let go of the rock, it remained stuck to the top of the stick, bound by Narre’s touch gift. “It’s an axe,” she said.