The Fire Eye Refugee

by Samuel Gately

  When she drew close to the office, she looked out from the shadows around the corner. The windows were dark. She circled the block, checking for watchers, but saw none. She returned to her original spot and looked at the building again. Now there was a single light on in the back office. She studied the light a long time. Then went up the back stairs. Unlocked the door and walked into the office.

  She sat at her desk, swiveled her chair around, and leaned over the safe. She opened it and took out a couple stacks of gold. Not all of it but maybe enough to get out of the next scrape. When she’d done this she shut the safe firmly and turned back around. Only then did she acknowledge the Fire Creep, sitting in the chair across from her desk. He gave a broad smile and, with a flick of his hand, extinguished the flame floating above the desk between them.

  “I’ve been looking for you,” she said.

  He gave a soft, strange laugh. “Huh, I had business outside the city. But when I could I’ve been looking at you,” he replied. The laugh again. “Huh, trying to understand how you live as you do.” He spoke with a slight foreign accent Kay couldn’t place.

  “I’ve found one of the keys to staying alive has to do with avoiding you,” she said.

  He leaned forward. “I arranged a beautiful death for you, huh. You could have been one with it. I chose each flame carefully. Your spark would have been free.”

  “And then you tried to cook my head in the middle of a crowded plaza.”

  “For that I must apologize, huh. I tried to give you a beautiful death. Worked hard to. But you were not ready. I was disappointed, huh. And you taunted me. I reacted poorly. It was inelegant. One of your allies put a rock to my head. An adequately inelegant response, huh.” He gestured around the office. “I see now how you escaped my fire. Pearl ash. And it lines the walls in here. Why do you hate your spark so? It is glorious. You should free it, not trap it in impurity. I could show you how.”

  “Why are you here? And what do I call you? Do you have a name?”

  “I understand to you I am the Fire Creep. That is enough for me. We do not value names as you do…Keara.”

  She let that troublesome revelation pass. At this point it was just easier to assume everyone knew her past. “And…do you have a message from the doctor?”

  “As it happens I do. He wishes to see you.”

  “I’d love to see him, but I think I’d like to select the place. The last one was unpleasant.”

  The Fire Creep gave a dark grin. “I suspect he would not agree to that.”

  “Then run back and tell him—”

  “You mistake me, huh.” The Fire Creep leaned forward slightly, drew her eyes to him. “I do bear a message from the doctor, but that is not why I’m here. I am no errand boy.”

  “Why are you here?” Kay itched for a drink or a weapon in her hands.

  “I have an offer. Stand aside. The girl must stay lost. For a few more days. After that you can do what you wish.”

  “And what would be my compensation? If I were to keep quiet about Leah?”

  “There is no Leah. We speak of Margaret Jordene.”

  “Why do you care about her?”

  “That is not yet for you to know, huh. As for compensation, for allowing Margaret Jordene to stay lost, I will teach you. I will teach you this.” He opened his hand and a flame bloomed above it. “I will make you one with your spark. Allow the girl to stay lost and you can be found.”

  “Is this offer sanctioned by the doctor?”

  “The doctor has no knowledge of this. It is from me.”

  “I don’t know you. I don’t know who you represent.”

  “Still? You disappoint me. I think you know who I represent, huh. The only name that matters. Say it.” When she sat still for a moment he said again, this time bringing to bear a subtle force, a heat. “Say it.”

  “The Winden.”

  “Very good, Keara. But that is not the name that matters, huh. Lazurli is the only name that will be spoken when we have rendered the world to ash. When we have fed its blood to the soil.” He leaned forward abruptly. “Did you truly think the table was set? Did you not think we would find a place at it?” The heat had returned. Kay slid her hand around the handle of her baton, but then the Creep leaned back. Letting the intensity leave the air, he smiled and nodded. “We have much in common, Keara, more than just the spark. You are an agent in Celest, representing a foreign people. As am I, huh.”

  Kay stared at his face, trying to separate his features from her thoughts. Tie it to the enemy. The ones who had killed so many Farrow, burned the city of her childhood to ash. They looked too much like Gol. He’d blended in seamlessly, exactly the way the Farrow couldn’t. “Why do the Winden need someone here? You won the war. Wasn’t that enough? Why can’t you let the Farrow be?”

  “It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t close to enough. A war does not end when you turn tail and run.”

  “It doesn’t end when they flee the country? Retreat from their homeland to protect their children from your knives?”

  “It doesn’t end until they die. Until they all die. It ends when Lazurli tells us it does. And Lazurli hungers like you couldn’t believe.”

  Looking into his eyes, burning with intensity, Kay’s heart beat faster. There was another madman at the table, and this one was the spearpoint at the front of an army of madmen. It was a threat to make the Red Canopy look like children. “And if the Gol let the Farrow stay? Will you come get them?”

  “Perhaps. The fire will go where the fuel is. But if we can have our fuel delivered to us, huh, that would be so much better. That would make Lazurli dance.” He gave a dark smile.

  “So you’re working for the doctor?”

  “I am not. We merely happen to stand on the same side of the issue. But I don’t ask you to stand with me. Or with the doctor. I only ask you to stand aside. Let the girl stay lost. Then I will teach you, give you what you long for. Control. Control of your spark. Not some false semblance you think staring at the sky gives you. Real control. You could take it anywhere, not be trapped under the Eye, in the home of your enemies. Just stand aside.”

  He waved his hand and again a flame was floating above the center of the table. It danced and pulsed in a rhythm. Kay could not help herself from letting out a sigh as her fire lust rose within her. So much more beautiful than any ordinary fire. She realized with a chill it was beating and flickering in time with her heart. She saw a vision, one of her summoning fire, raising great columns of it on a battlefield. Surrounding her enemies with flames which pressed in slowly. Make them fear for once, worry over footsteps. She could be invincible, unstoppable. Keara the Spark, a name to be feared. But thinking of names brought her back to Lazurli, that strange sort of god the Winden hailed. His name held power too. And horrible things were done by this misguided people. Would she be tied to this thing, this power? More importantly, how could she ever trust someone like the Fire Creep? Everything had a price.

  Kay dropped her eyes, looking at the floor. She was trying to think of a way to stall when she heard the sound of boots on the front stairs. The Fire Creep’s face darkened. “Our time together is precious, Keara. Now is the time for an answer.”

  Kay pretended to think, her hand sneaking closer to the jar with pearl ash under her cloak. There was a pounding on the front door. At the sound, the Fire Creep made his move and the air around her burst into flames. She flung a handful of powder into the air. She was blinded as bright flashes of light and heat went off all around her. She saw a dim outline through the dust, the Creep wreathed in flames, sliding towards her. She flung another handful and saw part of the fiery silhouette diminish. Another flash near her head. Then the light and the heat were gone, the air filled with thick grey dust and nothing else. The Fire Creep had vanished.

  The door to her office opened. Two men walked in wearing uniforms of the Home Guard. “Sol wants to speak with you. We’re to take you to the station.” If they thought anything amiss to find Kay covered
in grey dust and coughing, alone in the dark, they kept it to themselves.

  Chapter 23. The Questioning Room

  The closest Home Guard station wasn’t far from the office but they took her past it to one near High Street. Kay stared out the window of the carriage, eyes peeled for any sign of the Red Canopy or the Fire Creep. She saw none. A Winden agent. As if she didn’t have enough to worry about. And one who brought an offer she would find nowhere else. Freedom. The walls of the carriage were rough wood, not unlike Ewan Silas’ shed. Or the room in the orphanage where Randall Lenz had cornered her. Had she ever really escaped? Or had she just found a different corner to hide in? To wait, lonely and pathetic, for others to show her some small measure of kindness?

  The station was well-lit and crowded at the front, Home Guard coming and going. Most of the foot traffic involved escorting drunks to their cells. Kay had a moment of worry, recalling the young purist from the fights, spit parked on his lips. A Home Guard who might happily put her in a questioning room she might never escape from. She may have friends and enemies both in this building. And not all so easily classified.

  When Kay was led deeper inside, there were only a few small lamps lit and most of the desks were empty. Her two escorts took her back to a larger room in the rear, one lantern sitting in the center of a long, wooden table. Sol and the other detective who’d spoken to her at the Coulet House were seated at the table. As was Yamar.

  Kay took a seat as Sol thanked the uniforms and sent them out. She expected Sol to lead but Yamar spoke first. “So here I am, talking to these guys about a case I’m working, and imagine my surprise, your name comes up in connection with the tragedy at the Coulet House. I tell these guys, sure, I know Kay. She’s working with me right now. She’s about to tell me the location of a certain person she helped find and once she does that I can vouch for her character. And once that happens, maybe these guys won’t feel so compelled to be rough with her about some inconsistencies in her story. I mean, they’ve got to do their job. There’s a room full of dead people and the only surviving witness isn’t being very forthcoming with anybody. But there are different ways for them to do their job.” He looked at them, then her. “What do you say?”

  Kay looked right back. “How do you like working for the Dynasty?”

  He sighed. “Give us the room, guys, if you will.” Sol and the other detective rose from the table and left, closing the door behind them. He watched them go, then turned back to Kay. “What gave me away?”

  “You barely blinked at the gold I took from you at The Harbor Grey. That would have been your first question if you didn’t have unlimited backing. And that elaborate and wasteful display at the Opening. Sending the Home Guard away just confirmed it though. Money and authority. And here I was starting to like you.”

  “Well, at least we can show all our cards.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a golden triangle pinned to a leather wallet. On the golden triangle was written Wrang, Dynasty Guard. Kay had never seen one of the triangles before, only heard what they signified. The carrier was in the highest order of the Dynasty’s troops, charged with protection of the Kingdom. And the triangle meant big trouble if you weren’t in the best of graces with the holder.

  Yamar dropped it on the table between them. “Are you ready to give up Maggie Jordene’s location? Or would you rather discuss the seven brands of hell I can arrange for you if you don’t?”

  “I thought we were going to talk about the Coulet House,” Kay replied, trying not to allow her eyes to linger on the Wrang badge.

  “We can start there if you want. I’m not sure if you’re aware but the family is close personal friends of Tems Melor.”

  She looked up sharply. “The Dynasty representative to the refugee council? That might explain why they were chosen.”

  “Chosen by who?”

  “Doctor Banden Milo. He’s running the Red Canopy. They set up the whole thing. They were going to pin it on a mixed-blood and I happened to draw the lucky straw. The writing on the wall said NEW FARROW RISES before I scuffed it. They were going to use it to move public opinion against the refugees.”

  “Not just public opinion. Like I said, the Coulets are good friends of Tems Melor. And how exactly did you wind up in the room?”

  “I was spying on Doctor Milo’s speech that night at the Renlan House. Your friend Reagan was there, recognized me from the Overlook. I already told you he was one of the ones who carved up the Coulets. You can’t talk to poor Reagan, his acting career is over, but if you wanted to talk to one of the Red Canopy henchmen who helped that night, you’d find him at The Bear and Flower in the Lagoons. He was on the losing end of a fight with the Bosun earlier tonight. The Bosun are good boys, won’t fuss too much if the Dynasty wanted their prisoner. Just use my name. I’ve also got a witness who can link Doctor Milo to a series of murders from a few years back. You don’t get that name until I’m convinced you’re willing to protect him.” There was a long pause, Yamar not saying anything. “So will you tell the Dynasty?” Kay asked finally.

  “About the Coulets? You will. We’re going there now.”

  “You’re not gonna press me about Maggie Jordene?”

  “Right now, this is more important.” He stood and walked to the door. He leaned out and spoke to the Home Guard. “Bring my carriage around back,” he said. “The fetch and I are leaving.”

  …

  Horses. Kay could count the times she’d been in a horse-drawn carriage in the last few years on one hand. Now twice in one night. In Celest, they were reserved for the rich. She didn’t like the clatter, their hooves on the cobblestones, drawing what felt like every eye on the streets. All roads to the Dynasty’s Palace climbed a steep slope. The Palace was at the highest point in Celest and rose high above the city. She couldn’t see it while they were headed straight for it like an arrow. Yamar was impatiently playing with a pair of gloves on his lap. Kay kicked herself for ever mistaking him for a servant, even to one as powerful as Ban Terrel.

  When the carriage pulled into a turnabout and stopped to let them out, Kay got her first view of the Palace from its entryway. It rose high above the city to dizzying heights, a winding structure that, to her, looked something like a hand twisting over itself. Balconies jutted out everywhere, giving its residents unparalleled views over their dominion. It was a dark, sleek bronze stone. A fortune in seamless materials wound together in expert craftsmanship.

  Yamar was recognized at the entry and led Kay past the guards. They crossed a large lobby with a fountain in the center, then climbed broad winding stairs at the back. There were dim lights scattered throughout the great room. No other foot traffic this late at night. Yamar led her to staircase after staircase, always twisting, always climbing. She soon lost count and diverted her attention to being able to find her way back out. There were few guards above the first levels.

  Yamar finally slowed when they reached a long hallway lined with tall doors. He stopped before one and turned to Kay. “Whatever you do, don’t lie. The Dynasty never speaks untruth, never contradicts itself. They take your words very seriously. I can’t vouch for your safety, but I would expect you leave this meeting with your life. If you tell even a single lie, don’t expect to live through the night. Do you understand?”

  When Kay nodded, he straightened his shoulders, took a breath, and opened the door. He led her into an apartment, grand and sprawling, with a balcony that opened up over the city. It was the wrong side for the Fire Eye though, Kay noted with disappointment. There were several ornate sofas and chairs between twisting glass tables that mimicked the shape of the palace. A waiting servant, wearing Dynasty reds, gave a small bow to Yamar and walked back deeper into the rooms. He exited through a small door.

  Yamar gestured to one of the sofas. Kay instead gave a meaningful look towards the balcony. He nodded and she walked over to look out on Celest. The view was of the east. No Farrow camp beyond the walls. All loyal Gol, the responsibility of the Dynasty. The
lights below went on and on. Even this late at night, the city moved as though breathing. Everything had an orange hue, painted by a thousand small pinpoints of fire.

  Her attention was drawn back to the room behind her as the door in the back opened. Yamar rose to his feet. Kay had never seen any of the Dynasty, but she recognized the man who entered by his description. Tems Melor, second son of Yostre Melor, the Head of the Melor Dynasty. Tems was shorter than Yamar, his carefully styled hair and beard giving him a slightly effeminate appearance. He carried a great confidence and power in his stride as he entered the room. A small child followed him, running past Tems when he saw Yamar. That the child wore a pair of red silken pajamas was the only concession to the late hour. Everyone appeared alert.

  The child, maybe five or six years, reached Yamar and began playfully attacking his legs with a series of punches and kicks. Yamar gave some practiced dodges without breaking his formal bow to Tems. It seemed the Family knew him well.

  With her attention on the antics of the child, Kay failed to note the presence of a second man until he cleared his throat. Her heart started beating faster. Long, formal robes with intricate designs on every inch of them. A tall headcrest, a long staff held formally before him. A thick, squarish beard, grey with age. Jios Marin, the Dynasty’s Voice. The most powerful man in the Kingdom aside from Yostre himself.

  She was in a room with the two men who would decide the fate of the Farrow in the next few days. Kay caught sight of her reflection in one of the many mirrors scattered throughout the room. She saw she still had dirty, grey streaks of pearl ash all over her face. Not a promising start.

  Chapter 24. The Dynasty’s Voice