Suriax

by Amanda Young

  Chapter 6

  The grass was cool on her bare feet. Mirerien pulled back on her bow and let the arrow fly. The arrow wobbled from the force with which it hit the target. She closed her eyes and felt the cool night air blow across her cheek.

  “You don’t usually train so late.” Collin stepped out from behind the weapon’s shed and sat on a raised tree root. Casually, he began to sharpen his blade.

  “This has been an unusual day.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “What have you heard?” Mirerien put her bow down sat beside him on the root.

  “That a Flame Guardsman broke into your room and claims to be your long lost brother.”

  “I see the gossips are working overtime.”

  “So it isn’t true?”

  “No, your source is correct. He has been living in Suriax with an uncle we thought dead.”

  “So you got a brother and an uncle all in one day. That is incredible.”

  The sounds of night insects filled the quiet training yard. Mirerien dangled a foot down to rub against the grass. Moonlight beamed down and cast a subtle blue hue on everything. Without thinking she asked the question paramount on her mind. “Do you think I am cold?” The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted them. Collin looked taken aback by the question. “Never mind.” Standing, she grabbed her bow and took her stance.

  “Your shoulders are too high. You need to relax them.” Collin put his hands around her shoulders and rubbed them until they loosened up. “Why do you think you are cold?”

  “I don’t know how I should feel.”

  “You should feel how you feel.”

  Mirerien turned to face him, not as uncomfortable by the intimacy of their proximity as she thought she would be. “I want to smile.”

  Collin laughed. “Then smile. It’s not that hard.”

  “Pielere says I smile more when I am with you.” Collin’s face grew serious, his stare intense. She thought they might kiss, but movement caught her eye and ended the moment. Bright blue streaks of light shot through the sky. Most disappeared far off into the distance, but a few did not. Several hit the palace. Then she heard the screams.

  * * *

  The sound of yelling, both excited and fearful, awoke Kern from his dreamless sleep. Stumbling to the hall, he had to jump back into his room to avoid being hit by people running past his door. There was a dim, blue glow on everything, blue light shining in through the windows, each one surrounded by frantic people trying to get a look. Kern didn’t bother stopping, instead he headed for the courtyard on the second floor balcony of the palace. Absentmindedly, he noticed the other people already out there, but he couldn’t have said who they were. His attention was focused on the sky. Large balls of blue, white and black fire burned through the air, landing squarely on the shores of Suriax. From his vantage point, he couldn’t see much, but it looked as though the entire city was on fire. Smaller fires dotted Aleria, most confined to the Market Square shared with Suriax. He worried for his uncle. Thomas and Marcy were to travel across the border around nightfall. Assuming everything went as planned they should be safe in Aleria by now. As soon as he retuned to his room, he would get the ring and contact them again to be sure.

  As he watched, a burning sensation began in his belly, building, spreading throughout his body until he felt sure he was on fire. He was vaguely aware of crying out. His vision turned to white, blinded by an impossibly bright light. The burning increased to levels he hadn’t believed possible. A small spot in his vision cleared. Looking down at his hands, he found them covered in blue flames.

  * * *

  Kern heard singing and smiled. He often dreamed of waking up to the beautiful sound of a woman, his woman, singing. Children would be laughing in some other room of the house. The smell of freshly cooked meat and bread would fill the air. But it was only a dream. That was not the life he had. There was no wife and certainly no children. So who could be singing, now? The last thing he remembered . . . panic flooded through him as he remembered the blue flames engulfing his hands. Sitting up, he inspected them closely, expecting burns. There were none. His hands looked the same as always. How could that be? He saw them burning. He felt the heat.

  “It’s alright.” Marcy put her hands over his.

  “What happened, and why do I feel I was beat upside the head with a brick?”

  She crinkled her nose. “That’s not too far from the truth. During all the excitement last night, you fell and hit your head on the bricks lining the garden outside. You managed to knock a corner off one of them,” she grinned. “I always knew you had a hard head. Now I have proof.”

  Kern rubbed his head, feeling the knot there. “Very funny. So, what was all that?”

  “As far as any of us can figure, it had to do with the Solstice celebrations. Only Suriaxians were affected.”

  “Uncle?”

  “Is fine. He wasn’t born in Suriax, and he never changed his citizenship from Aleria. That seems to be the determining factor. Thomas wasn’t affected either.”

  “Then you . . .”

  Marcy pulled back her hair to reveal a dark marking in the shape of a flame at the back of her neck. “We all have one.” His hand went instinctively to his neck. “And we can all do this.” She held out a hand and blue flames immediately covered it. Kern jumped, but she was unconcerned, not a flinch. Waiting a few moments, she closed her hand. The flames went out instantly. “I was hit just after we crossed the border. The merchant barely got the cover off the wagon and pulled Frex out before I set the thing on fire. Thomas got a few burns trying to put me out. Then we heard the other screams and saw the fires in Suriax and figured out what was happening. The merchant ran off as soon as we were all out of the wagon. It was a good thing the palace sent someone to meet us, or we would have had to walk the entire way here.” She gave a weak grin and laugh. The skin around her eyes was creased with lack of sleep and worry. Kern put a hand on her arm, and she instantly stiffened, pulling back. “Now that you’re up, I should go check on how Thomas is doing with his burns. Frex is down at the end of the hall.” Standing abruptly, she left.

  * * *

  “Now you hide.”

  He could hear children laugh excitedly, followed by a deep chuckle. “I may be a little big for most of the hiding places in here,” Frex said. “How about you hide again for me, and I’ll find you?”

  The children agreed, and Frex began counting. After he finished, the giggling continued. Kern looked in to see Frex and four small children who weren’t really what you could call hidden. One was under a table, one hid squatting in a corner with his hands covering his face and one was in the middle of the floor with a blanket half covering her body. Her feet were still visible and kicking. The best hid was an older boy hiding behind a planter, but even he was giggling, easily giving away his position. Frex stalked around the room, grinning ear to ear and pretending to not know where they were.

  “He looks to be having a good time. They all do in fact.”

  Kern jumped. Pielere stood behind him, looking in on the children. “Yes, I haven’t seen Uncle this happy in years,” Kern replied.

  “We should leave them to it, then. Come take a walk with me.” Pielere gestured down the hall. They walked to the courtyard. Kern noticed, not for the first time, the looks people shot him as he passed. They didn’t trust him. They didn’t like him. Some outright hated him. He noticed some of this hostility before, but it was worse now, since the night of blue fire. That is what the servants were calling it. His palms burned at the thought. He took a deep breath to calm himself before the flames could manifest themselves. It took him several hours of practicing after Marcy’s visit, but he finally had some control over the flames. Unfortunately, it was not before he set fire to his jacket. He really liked that coat, too. “How are you enjoying it here?”

  “Honestly,” Kern paused, not wanting to insult anyone, “I’m not sure I really belong here.”

  “You know
you are welcome to stay as long as you like.”

  “I think a few of your subjects may disagree with you on that.”

  Pielere noticed a servant girl hurry past them, watching Kern suspiciously from the corner of her eye. He nodded. “Suriax is not very popular with most Alerians.”

  “But why? You guys are all about laws. So are we. We just follow different laws from you, but we still have order. I know most people don’t agree with our laws allowing murder, but everything is regulated and documented, and random killings aren’t that common. You aren’t going to get killed just walking down the street, at least no more than anywhere else.”

  Pielere sighed and paused by a helephor plant at the edge of the garden. It was a large red plant, easily standing four feet tall with long, bell shaped petals. The inside of each petal was orange and yellow, and the smell it produced was strong and sweet. It was typically found along the edges of the cliffs by the sea, at the far side of the continent and did not normally grow in this climate. This one was thriving. Behind it stood five more. It was one more example of the different world his siblings lived in. Pielere continued, oblivious to Kern’s distraction. “When did you join the Flame Guard? I recognized your jacket,” he explained at Kern’s surprise.

  Kern thought for a minute. “I was pretty young, about ninety three, I think.” Had it really been that long?

  “And in that time, how many people have you killed?”

  “A thousand, maybe more.” Pielere’s eyes widened. “But it was all perfectly legal,” Kern hastened to add.

  “And what of the families of those you killed?”

  Kern shrugged. “It was always a job or an order, so if they had a problem with it, they would most likely go after whoever ordered the kill. Or they could just kill me in response. Either way, no laws are broken and order is maintained.”

  “There are man’s laws and god’s laws. Regardless of what laws are passed and what may be legal in one land or another, there is still such a thing as right and wrong. Man’s laws are supposed to exist to protect and enforce god’s laws, to protect people. Otherwise they are just arbitrary means of acquiring and maintaining power.”

  “But our laws are a god’s laws. They are from Venerith.”

  “There is a reason we call Venerith the Corruptor. His ways sound good. He plays to our sense of reason. But he ignores the spirit behind the law, the real reason for laws. Our father was twisted to believe laws existed for his benefit, that it was okay for him to exploit loopholes, make up excuses to fine and imprison innocent people and do all this in the name of the law. Grandfather understood his role as leader and protector of the people. He understood the responsibility of his position, the sacrifices he must make and how every one of his actions could have a real impact on the lives of those he ruled over. He took his responsibilities seriously, and so do we. We do not lead for our benefit. We lead for those who depend on us for their protection.” Pielere fell silent, his head tilted to the side as though he was listening to something.

  “Are you alright?” Kern asked when he didn’t say anything else.

  “Hmm? Oh, yes. I do apologize for that.”

  “What happened?”

  “It’s nothing. It’s just that sometimes I think I hear voices.” Kern raised an eyebrow. “I know. It sounds crazy.”

  “No, not crazy at all. And what exactly do these voices tell you to do?” He took a step back in mock fear.

  Pielere laughed. “They don’t tell me to do anything. They ask for help, mostly.”

  “Help?”

  “Yes, I guess I spend too much time ruling on cases. I’m starting to hear made up ones in my head. There was one a few days ago, a woman, asking for justice for her family. She talked about a grandson forced to work for her landlord to keep their rent from being raised.”

  Kern felt his jaw go slack. “That is no hallucination. I met that woman on my way here. She runs a small bakery. Their old landlord died, and his son takes advantage of their lack of written contracts to force the residents into his service. If they don’t, he raises the rent beyond their ability to pay.”

  Pielere took it all in, not looking as surprised as Kern felt. He could tell Pielere already felt the voices were real. This news just gave him the proof he needed to allow himself to believe in them. “Thank you for the information. I will see the situation is resolved right away.”

  “Your Majesty,” a small gnome girl ran up to them. In truth, she was probably at least a hundred years old, but her small size and spritely features gave the illusion of added youth. Pielere gestured for her to go on. “There are more reports of violence in the market and along the border near the bridge; twenty more robbery attempts and four more killings. Another ten people are being tended to for their injuries, mostly burns.”

  “Send three more squadrons out to patrol and bring in any of the perpetrators. Also see what you can do to secure more ranskie plants to treat the burns. The clerics are probably running low by now.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She bowed and left just as quickly.

  “What is going on?” Kern asked.

  “I’m afraid the events of last night have left quite a mark. There have been riots breaking out everywhere. Most of Suriax is on fire or has been in the past twelve hours. We’ve been hit by an influx of frightened tourists and quite a few Suriaxians who believe they can now ignore our treaties and do whatever they wish. We’re almost ready to close down the border. Travel between the cities is already being partially restricted. You should probably stay around the palace, at least until things calm down.”

  Kern caught another sideways glance from a servant and agreed Pielere was probably right, but he couldn’t just sit around doing nothing. “Maybe I can help. I am a guard, after all. I could do some patrols.”

  Pielere looked at him uncertainly. “I don’t know. You aren’t an Alerian citizen. I’m not really at liberty to assign you to such a task. But,” he cut Kern off when he would have argued, “you are free to come and go as you please, so what you do with that freedom is up to you. Of course, I can also point out there will be guards posted on every block near the border bridge, so if one were to see anything troubling occurring, it would be easy to report said activity.” Kern grinned. “On that note, I must get back to work. Keep out of trouble,” he called over his shoulder as he left.

  * * *

  Laureen felt her heart beating out of her chest. Kern was the rouge guardsman. He didn’t seem to recognize her when she walked past him talking to King Pielere. Then again, they didn’t know each other all that well, and he had a lot on his mind. So did she. Unconsciously, her hand went to her neck. She could still see the looks of fear on their faces. Why did she choose to go out last night? If she went to bed as usual, no one would know, but they were talking about Kern and his relationship to the royal family. She wanted to learn as much as she could to report back to the queen.

  “Laureen, isn’t it?”

  She stopped and turned to Queen Mirerien. She anticipated this meeting all morning, though she thought an advisor or staff member would be the one to question her. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “You are Suriaxian.” It wasn’t a question. After last night, there was no denying it.

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “Why did you not disclose this when you came to work for the palace?”

  Laureen panicked. It was said no one could lie to the queen. “I was ordered not to,” she lowered her eyes.

  “Who gave this order?”

  “I cannot say.”

  “I see. You know you cannot stay here any longer?” The queen did not seem angry or upset, but she was not known for her displays of emotion. It was disconcerting. Anger she could deal with. She could twist it around, turn to her advantage. There was nothing she could do with this cold, emotionless demeanor.

  “I do.”

  “You are dismissed.”

  Laureen returned to her room. Her bags were already packed. This would not end well
for her. The queen did not take kindly to failure. She would not like losing a spy in the palace, not when replacing her now would be so difficult. She could only pray the information she had to give her would be enough to earn her forgiveness.

  * * *

  “Help me,” a weak voice called from the darkness off the alley.

  A young girl walking past stopped and looked for the person who spoke. “Hello?” she asked.

  “Help me,” the voice called again. Like an idiot, the girl walked into the darkness. Kern shook his head. You wouldn’t see a Suriaxian falling for a trick like that. Alerians were much more trusting than he was accustomed to and easy prey for street wise Suriaxians. He looked around, but there was no guard in sight. Coming up on the alley, he peered into the shadows. A man’s hand was clamped firmly around the girl’s mouth. She tried to fight her way loose, but he was larger and stronger. His other hand let go just long enough to conjure flames, effectively ending her resistance. Fear shone in her eyes.

  “Hey, got mine.” Another man walked up from the back of the alley and tossed down a woman bound in rope. She was half unconscious and had burns on her arms. “Nice,” he leered at the girl the first man held. The girl shuddered. “Mind if I have a go?”

  “This one’s mine,” the man answered. “At least until I’m done with her. Then I don’t care what you do with her.”

  Kern assessed the situation. There were two targets, one standing alone and one holding a potential hostage. The latter would need to go first. There wasn’t enough cover between them for him to sneak up unseen. Picking up a medium sized rock he took aim and hummed it at the man’s head. He went out like a torch. Instead of running away as he hoped, the girl tripped over the man’s prone body and fell to the ground. Kern ducked to avoid a fireball shot past his head. Thanks to this new Suriaxian gift, he would have to treat all his fights like he was facing a mage . . . who could throw a punch, he amended when the man followed up the fireball with his fist. Kern reached for his blade and remembered belatedly it was peace knotted. Alerian law specified all blades over twelve inches must be secured to one’s person to avoid ease of access. The few seconds he spent reaching for a blade he could not draw found him on the ground nursing a sore jaw.