Fire Games

by B. T. Narro

  I kept my eyes shut and tried to ignore my tormenting thoughts.

  Eventually I heard someone crouch by my head. “Are you awake?” a woman whispered.

  I sat up to find the dark-haired young woman from before, now with concern creasing her forehead.

  “I got some water if you’re thirsty,” she said, offering a skin.

  I gladly took it. The moment I started gulping, it was a struggle to stop. But I managed after four mouthfuls. “How did you get it?”

  “I traded the wine and a pit for it.” Her eyebrows arched. “What’s your name?”

  “Neeko.”

  She folded her legs to sit beside me. After a quick brush down her blackened dress, she offered her hand. “I’m Shara.”

  Her hand was rough, somewhat of a surprise as her face made her look gentle, even with the splotches of soot on her cheeks. Her eyes were piercing, as if she was refraining from letting out a secret.

  It made it even harder for me to trust her. “Why were you pretending to have trouble breathing?” I asked.

  Her mouth dropped open. “I wasn’t pretending!”

  I used to be gullible, the curse all children are born with, but not anymore. As I prepared to argue, I realized I was just too tired. I let out a loud sigh and turned away from Shara. I was done with her. I couldn’t handle arguing with a liar, not right then.

  “What do you want?” I asked dismissively.

  I heard her scoff. Then she pushed my cheek with her coarse palm and hurried off.

  Part of me regretted upsetting her, but I fought the feeling. The last thing I needed was to worry about someone besides myself. I had no home, no parents, and it had been eight years since I’d seen the only friend I’d ever trusted. Maybe I could visit him in Cessri, possibly stay with him as I looked for a new home.

  I thought for a while, trying to determine who was responsible for the destruction of the house my grandfather built. When a child had thrown a rock through my window, I made his parents pay for the damage. Even that wasn’t easy. It took days of asking around to find the spoiled boy’s house, and then a miserable hour of arguing with his father. But the law was on my side, as it should be again now.

  There was cheering by the hillside. Had we won the battle? People already were descending back into Lanhine. Others who’d been sleeping crawled to their feet.

  I rose and followed everyone back into town. This night might’ve changed my life forever, but that didn’t give me reason to dwell on it. Someone owed me money. Lots of money. There was too much to do to dwell.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  By the time I got back to where my house used to be, I figured out how much I’d ask for it. Two dalions. With all the work I’d put into it, it was probably worth closer to three. Two was more than fair.

  I already had two dalions in my money pouch, along with about fifty ruffs last I’d counted. That was enough to buy a small house in Lanhine. But I didn’t want to live in this town any longer. The only reason I’d come back here from Cessri was because of Jon, and that had turned out to be one of the biggest regrets of my life.

  I’d get the money I deserved for my house and purchase a carriage ride to Cessri. My aunt was there, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to see her. She probably blamed me just as much as I blamed myself for her sister’s death.

  Eizle—my only true friend—could still be there. We’d learned to manipulate pyforial energy together. He was more skilled with it when we were kids, and I wondered how strong he was now.

  I shuddered when I realized his brother might be there as well. Would I still recognize Eizle or Swenn? It had been eight years, after all. I hardly could remember his brother’s face, probably because I always had trouble looking at it when he spoke. He was nine years older than Eizle and me. Twenty-five now, I realized. He still might be bigger than me, but it couldn’t be by much. I didn’t consider myself to be particularly tall, though I knew I was strong. Years in carpentry had seen to that. I probably could overpower Eizle’s brother if needed.

  I wondered what I would do if I saw him while no one else was around. Could I bring myself to kill him? More importantly, could I stop myself if he hadn’t changed? I didn’t want to find out.

  The only thing still standing of my house was one wall of the room I’d added. It gave me some sense of pride…which quickly dissolved as my eyes fell to the rubble where I’d left Jon’s body. Ash as high as my shins covered the ground. Scraps of black wood lay on top.

  I hadn’t noticed morning had come until the sun peeked over the hills, forcing me to shield my eyes. Most of the houses around mine were damaged, but few as badly. I found myself figuring what supplies I’d need, how long it would take, and what I would charge to repair each home that had been touched by fire.

  Gods I’m tired. I wasn’t thinking about the right thing. Then it struck me again, this time like a bolt of lightning. Both my parents were dead, and I had no home. It became a struggle to stand, so I sat down on the gravel path.

  I’d come to believe there was no feeling worse than unresolved guilt. If Jon had survived, I could apologize to him. I could take care of him and treat his injuries to the best of my ability. But the dead aren’t capable of forgiveness.

  I couldn’t let my mind continue down this path. I pushed myself up.

  Holding my forehead as I waited for the dizziness to pass, I heard someone cry out, “Meat pies and water for sale.”

  He pushed a cart, steam from the meat pies practically waving to me. I already could smell them, even taste them. Others were turning toward him. I could see the same hunger in their eyes.

  A woman approached the cart. After a quick exchange, she huffed and walked off.

  I arrived next, unable to contain myself enough to walk there instead of run, displaying my eagerness too openly. “I’ll take two and a water skin,” I said, readying my coin purse.

  “That’ll be just one ruff and five pits.”

  “What?” I couldn’t believe this man’s audacity. Not only was he charging twice as much as he should be, his tone implied he was being generous! “That’s absurd,” I protested. “I’ll give you one silver.”

  “Now it’s two ruffs.” He folded his arms.

  “I’ll just go to Terry’s Inn.” I turned away from him.

  “Fire took out their kitchen,” he said. “And they’ve already sold what food they had.”

  I stopped and tried to think about the next nearest place I could purchase food.

  “And P. Finn’s Bake Shop won’t have food until tomorrow,” he went on. “You can go check for yourself, but it will be three ruffs by the time you find me again.”

  I turned to find him taunting me with a wicked grin, two of his bottom teeth missing.

  I grumbled and paid him two silvers.

  By the time I finished eating, I didn’t regret it in the least. I walked west where a group of soldiers and townspeople had gathered. Upon arrival, I saw injured being treated here, most of them men and women in uniform.

  I eventually found Callyn sitting on a wooden medical bed. She looked to be in pain as she gritted her teeth and squeezed her hands together. Her thigh was cut, a stained red bandage wrapped around it. Her friend was at her side, unharmed, a reminder of the injustice in this world.

  I came close and waited for one of them to see me, still unsure what to say. Callyn spotted me first. “It’s you.”

  “Are you all right?” I asked, surprised at my question.

  She seemed even more surprised. “Um, yes. I’ll be fine.”

  Her friend glared at me. “What do you want?”

  My anger ignited, though Callyn rebuked her friend before I could say anything. “Give us a moment.”

  Her friend looked betrayed. “You don’t owe him anything,” she told Callyn.

  “I owe him at least a conversation.”

  Her friend grumbled as she looked me over, then left without a word.

  “Remind me of your name?” Callyn asked.r />
  “Neeko.”

  “I’m sorry about your father.”

  I told her the truth. “I’m not angry at you.” Only at myself.

  “I thought you might’ve been killed. Is your house…?”

  “Burned down.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I nodded. I wanted to ask about the battle and about the war, but there was time to figure that out later. “Who will pay for the damage to my home?”

  “I don’t know.” She swallowed hard. Her look told me what she didn’t want to say.

  “Someone has to pay for it,” I insisted.

  She sighed and showed me a look so sad it was as if I were a dying child.

  “No.” I shook my head. “Someone is responsible for this, and it’s certainly not me!”

  “I don’t know anything about money for damages. You can try my commander. He’s over there.” She pointed to where a man simultaneously read a scroll, gestured at a group of soldiers, and ignored a cluster of townspeople who all seemed to need him for something. “But I wouldn’t expect much.”

  I would speak to this man, and I would get the money I deserved. Realizing I needed to wait for the commander’s attention, I stayed with Callyn for the moment and asked one of the many questions eating away at me.

  “Why was Lanhine attacked?”

  “I don’t know yet. King Marteph’s men must’ve been hiding in the woods, waiting for us to get here and then for night to come, but they didn’t care to take Lanhine. In fact, we don’t even think they cared about winning this battle. They may have used the attack to send a message.”

  “What message?”

  A voice came from behind me. “They want King Quince to start sacrificing again.” I felt a spark of annoyance as I turned to find Shara. “If you don’t know about the war you should’ve asked me instead of bothering this poor injured woman who fought for us.”

  “This poor woman…” Killed my father. But there was no reason to say it when I wasn’t angry with Callyn.

  She jumped in the moment I paused. “He’s not bothering me.” Callyn clearly felt guilty about what happened.

  Shara’s eyebrows lifted as if she’d just realized something. Her eyes darted back and forth between Callyn and me. “Was she staying with you before the attack?”

  Callyn’s eyes narrowed, and she pointed at Shara. “Keep your assumptions to yourself.”

  Callyn’s friend came back in that moment. “What’s going on?”

  “They were just leaving,” Callyn said, far more insulted than I thought was necessary. Some of my annoyance shifted to her. Was it really so bad for Shara to assume we’d had some sort of romantic involvement? I tried not to take it personally, figuring it was because Callyn was older than me.

  “Go,” Callyn’s friend ordered as I turned to leave. “Get out of here.”

  I looked back at Callyn one last time. She mouthed the words “I’m sorry,” and I nodded.

  Shara stayed beside me as I headed toward the cluster surrounding the commander. For a while, we just walked in silence as if we were old friends. I wondered what she expected me to say. She couldn’t possibly be waiting for an apology.

  By the time we reached the commander, only one woman and her child were left. The mother was asking him a question, but I was too distracted to listen when I noticed Shara had stopped when I had, and now she looked at me with her piercing brown eyes. They seemed to hold annoyance, curiosity, and intrigue all in one judgmental glare. I almost couldn’t handle looking back at her, but I forced myself not to turn away, waiting for her to say something.

  “Well?” she inquired.

  “What?”

  “I don’t understand you. At all!”

  I said nothing, simply stared back in confusion. She was the one who made no sense, following me even though she clearly was angry with me.

  But when she fell back into silence, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. “There’s no reason you should be confused. I thought you needed help, so I helped you. Then I realized you were just pretending to need help, so I stopped. Simple.”

  “I never asked for help, and I wasn’t pretending to have trouble breathing. I told you it was the smoke. I have bad lungs. Sometimes I breathe in something that makes me wheeze.”

  “And it just goes away instantly? With no gradual change, you’re suddenly able to breathe just fine again?”

  Expecting anger, I was surprised to find her eyes squinted and the corner of her mouth twisted in a sad expression.

  “Yes,” she answered calmly, “sometimes it goes away quickly, usually when I can forget about it and I’m away from whatever caused it.” She leaned toward me. “You don’t tend to trust people, do you?”

  I thought of the meat pie salesman, taking this terrible event as an opportunity to make money. I thought of Eizle’s brother. I thought of the boy who broke my window and his father who didn’t wish to pay for it. Of course I didn’t trust people. Why should I? But there was something about the way Shara looked at me that made me feel wrong for disbelieving her. A liar often became angry when confronted, never…sad or whatever Shara was. Perhaps she was being honest.

  “Well,” she continued when I didn’t respond, “do you at least believe me now, Neeko?”

  The use of my name caught me off guard. I was surprised she remembered it. Did she also have no one?

  “Was your house destroyed?” I asked.

  She nodded solemnly. “I was on my way to this commander about payment when I saw you.”

  “Do you have any—”

  Before I could ask if she had any family, Shara raised her hand and called out, “Commander!” I turned to find he was leaving.

  “I’m in a hurry.” He huffed with impatience.

  “Our houses were destroyed,” I said as we ran up to him. “We’ve come to receive payment.”

  “Did either of you house a soldier?”

  “I did,” I answered.

  “I did as well,” Shara said. She seemed to be telling the truth, unless everything else she’d told me was a lie.

  “And are you the taxpayers of your homes?” the commander asked.

  “Yes,” Shara and I answered at the same time. We looked to each other with shock.

  “See that woman?” The commander pointed. I turned and followed his finger to find a tall woman in her middle years clad in the same black uniform as the soldiers. A short line of people stood in front of her. “She’s the claim inspector. Talk to her. Bring whatever legal documents you have for your home.”

  “Mine burned with my house,” Shara said.

  “The same happened to me.”

  “Then you’d better hope she’s in a good mood.” The commander strode off, immediately shouting at a group of soldiers who looked to be idle. Their backs went rigid, and they hurried off.

  “Did you lie to him?” Shara asked as we walked toward the claim inspector.

  “No. You?”

  “No.”

  She started fiddling with her wavy hair. I thought she was trying to untangle it until I realized she was doing the opposite, grabbing it in fists and pulling it in all directions.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “The more disheveled I look, the better the chances she’ll pity me. I usually despise pity, but I can endure it for a moment when dalions are at stake.” Shara bent down, rubbed her hands on the dirt, then patted her cheeks and forehead.

  I would’ve told her that her face was dirty enough already, but something else came to mind that was more important. “Have you truly been honest with me about your breathing?”

  “Yes!” she said, annoyed. “Why do you keep asking?”

  “Because here you are preparing to deceive a woman of the king’s army with no ambivalence about it.”

  “That’s absurd. I—” She barked out a laugh. “Actually, I see your point.” She stopped, and so did I. She had a way of staring that made me feel uneasy. Rather than seeing me as I stood, it felt lik
e her eyes bore into me, seeing something past my skin. “I haven’t lied to you or deceived you in any way.” She spoke in a firm tone. “Not once.” We started walking again as she continued, “But that doesn’t mean I’m incapable of deception.”

  I thought about making myself look more pitiful as well. Then I glanced down at my sweaty shirt and blackened pants, and I felt the dirt caked into my face. I probably couldn’t look much worse.

  We joined the queue. Only one other person was waiting to speak to the claim inspector by then. A swordsman stood in front of us, keeping us out of earshot of what looked to be an investigation. The man being questioned appeared too clean considering what had happened. The claim inspector wasn’t as tall as he was, but the way she scowled made the man look like a child.

  Soon he left with nothing but a frown, and the next man approached her. He wore a bandage around his entire forearm and talked on and on as the claim inspector regarded him with blatant skepticism.

  “Do you have any family?” I asked Shara as I watched the conversation.

  “Um. It’s difficult to answer.”

  I figured I knew what that meant. “I lost someone also.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “No. I’ve been alone for two and a half years.”

  I didn’t know what to make of that. She couldn’t possibly be saying that she’d spent the last two and a half years with no family, could she? She was gazing at the man with the bandage, her eyes distant.

  “That sounds tough,” I told her. It seemed like the right thing to say based on her tone.

  She surprised me with a halfhearted smile. “Everything will be fine if they’ll pay for my house.”

  We went back to watching. The man removed the bandage from his arm as he grimaced, revealing a long burn that gave an unnatural shine to his skin. The claim inspector peered at it for barely longer than a breath, her scowl unchanging. She said something the man didn’t like.

  “I can’t.” His voice was just loud enough for me to hear.

  The claim inspector shook her head and folded her arms. She said something else.

  “No, I can’t!” the man repeated, even louder this time.