Embers

by Ronie Kendig

  “Do not think me so poor of character. She withheld from me the full of what would happen. And though I cannot make sense of her motives or her effort, my sister is strong and her character infallible. Young she may be, but Kaelyria’s purpose and very breath are for the Nine.”

  “What happened—tell me of the transference.” When Haegan hesitated, Drracien shifted. “I’m an accelerant. I’m curious . . .”

  “I am not sure how much I recall. Cilicien—”

  “ka’Dur?”

  Haegan paused. “I am not certain. It was not until I spoke his name that I even recalled it.”

  With a scowl, Drracien bobbed his head. “Go on.”

  “He said some words, did some dance—”

  “Form.”

  “What?”

  “It’s not a dance,” Drracien said. “It’s a form.”

  “Of course. He danced the form.” He could not help but annoy the man. “Next thing I knew, I felt like my very body was on fire. It was incredible to feel again after so many years. I was ecstatic. I had not realized how much I wanted to be whole again.” He sighed, suddenly remembering the tears sliding down her cheek. “But when I turned, she”—burning started at the back of his throat and eyes—“was crippled.”

  Drracien tilted his head, frowning. “So she then had your paralyzed body and you were whole?”

  “It was wrong. So very wrong.” Haegan knew it in the deepest part of him. When the accelerant seemed to weigh the answer, his eyes darting back and forth to nothing in particular, Haegan grew alarmed. “What?”

  He shook his head, then gave a small smile. “She gave you an opportunity.”

  “Perhaps. But to what end?” Haegan’s gaze rose to the waters tumbling from a great height not visible to him at this vantage. “I’m not even sure the Kindling will heal me.” It seemed surreal and peaceful, the foam, the churning wake, the mist rising off the falling waters.

  Hesitation seemed to hold the accelerant in a firm grip. Then he finally spoke. “Have no fear—they will heal you.”

  “How can you believe so wholly?”

  “I’m an accelerant. If I didn’t believe, I couldn’t wield.” Drracien hopped onto his feet, but remained in a crouch as he looked down at the clearing again. “Our challenge is figuring out how to get you to the pool without being captured or killed.”

  35

  “Wait.” Haegan caught Drracien’s tunic. “Tell me.”

  “I don’t know how we’re going to get you through. That’s what I just said.”

  “No, tell me what concern lay in your hesitation.” He would not go darkly into another trap. This time, he would go with his eyes open. No more falsehoods or hidden truths. “The look on your face is the same one my sister bore when she gave only partial truths. What lies behind yours?”

  Drracien stilled. Looked down. Then something rippled through his face. “We should go.”

  “No.” Haegan moved in front of him. “I would have answers, truth.”

  “Only Abiassa can provide what you seek, Pr—” He bit off the end of his word, his gaze again flicking to the side. Something changed in his posture. He’d tensed.

  Haegan’s pulse sped up, noting Drracien was not paying attention to him but to something in the brush around them.

  “Come.” Drracien hopped off the very rock Haegan felt would protect them. Uncertainty followed him down the trodden path. Had the accelerant deftly avoided his question? Or was there a danger Haegan had not noticed? Tension knotted the muscles between his aching shoulders.

  After a few minutes of confusing trails, his patience thinned. “What—?”

  Drracien threw himself to the right, hands moving in quick circles.

  A cry went out—a woman’s.

  The accelerant rushed into the brush with Haegan on his heels. Tucked into a thicket lay a young woman, holding her shoulder.

  No. Not just a woman. “This is the woman who helped me avoid the Jujak in Hetaera.”

  “The prostitute?”

  “I’m not—”

  “She’s not—” Haegan stopped when they spoke simultaneously.

  “Why are you following us?” Drracien aimed his palms at her.

  She held up her hands. “I am no threat, Master Accelerant.”

  “I am no master,” Drracien said. “On your feet.”

  Haegan felt the compulsion to help her. She flashed him a small smile and set her fingers against his. He tugged her up and waited to ascertain if she was injured.

  “Why are you following us?” Drracien repeated.

  “I saw him”—her brown eyes came to Haegan—“and . . .” Her cheeks pinked, even in the dim light of the forest. She chewed her lower lip and refused to meet his gaze again.

  “Well?” Drracien demanded.

  “So I’s got a soft spot for him.” She slapped her hands against her skirt with a huff. “I wanted to talk with him.”

  “Alone? To what end—to damage his name or to entrap him in a marriage bond?”

  Haegan could not help but take a step back. Did girls really do that?

  “What?” Her wide green eyes snapped up, her mouth agape. “No! I wouldn’t ever do that to a man that I be likin’.” Again, her eyes widened then flicked away.

  The air warbled, and the girl leaned back, whimpering. Haegan could barely detect the heat plume around her torso. He frowned at Drracien, whose expression had grown fierce. “What are you—”

  “Who are you?” Drracien growled.

  “Just a girl—”

  Drracien’s fingers widened as he pushed his hands toward her. “The truth!”

  She cried out. Sweat trickled from her temples and slid down her face. And yet, she didn’t defend herself.

  With a drawn-in breath, Drracien stepped back with his right foot, pointed his thumb and drew his hand back along the length of his arm.

  The girl wilted for a second, and Haegan’s sympathies were touched. This should stop. It wasn’t right to wield against the innocent. And such a pretty girl. Had she truly sought him out because of romantic interest? To force him into a relationship? The thought made his head spin. His fingers twitched toward Drracien.

  She stiffened, sweat beading on her lips that grew tight. Her nostrils flared.

  That wasn’t agony or pain. That was anger. Why was she angry?

  “Who are you? Name!” Drracien, hair dangling in his eyes again, dragged his right hand in an arc until it swung up and over his head, then rested at eye level in front of his face. “Or I will singe the hairs off your body.”

  Alarmed, Haegan darted a look to his friend, then back to the girl.

  She curled her lip at him. What . . . what was that?

  “C’mon, she’s just—”

  “Name!”

  She trembled, fighting the pain.

  Drracien flicked his middle finger.

  That simple move seemed to crackle the air. The girl cried out, her head tossed back. Tears streaked down her face. “Astadia,” she cried out.

  Drracien froze. He shot Haegan a look. “Get back to the tent.”

  “But—”

  “Now!”

  Haegan stumbled backward, but then looked at the girl again. Her face had reddened and her muscles convulsed uncontrollably. Even her neck and arms were turning red.

  Burning.

  “Stop.” Haegan reached to the accelerant.

  “She’s not an innocent woman.”

  “I don’t care. You’re hurting her.”

  “If you knew what she’s done and who she works for, you would order me to kill her.”

  Stunned, Haegan again looked to the girl. Her green eyes held a spark of red in them, turning a dull, flat color into a rich, deep one. And they resonated with her pain. Her . . . regret.

  She slumped, tears streaming down her face.

  “Enough. She’s surrendered.”

  “Until I release her. Then she’ll attack.”

  Haegan went to her. Knelt, stayin
g clear of Drracien’s wielding. “I must have your word that you will not attempt to harm us—”

  “Or any in our company,” Drracien added.

  Haegan nodded. “Or any in our company,” he repeated to be sure the terms of her surrender were clear. Though he ached for the pain in her eyes, he was not foolish enough to think she wouldn’t lash out.

  “Her word means nothing. She is—”

  “Where are you from?” Haegan switched tactics.

  “Iteveria,” she whispered, a trail of blood escaping her nose and racing down her jaw.

  His lengthy years enduring Gwogh’s lessons were coming in useful after all. He remembered the Twin Cities, Iteveria and Tharqnis. The birthplaces of Poired Dyrth and Sirdar. The latter had abandoned the tenets of the Iteverian faith. The former had not. “Family above friendship,” he began, watching her. Hoping she understood what he was doing. “Duty above family . . .”

  Lips, now cracked and parched beneath the heat drawing the moisture from her muscles and skin, parted and tremored. Her words were almost inaudible over the hum of the wielding. “Honor above all else.”

  “Yes.” Haegan nodded at her. “Give me your word, and I will believe and hold you to it.”

  Unbending, she did not yield, though she locked onto Haegan visually.

  “Your word,” Haegan insisted. “Or I can make no promise of what my friend may do.”

  Drracien, who stood behind him wielding, must have increased the intensity, because she yelped again.

  “Yes,” she cried. “You have it. I will not bring harm to you or this murderous accelerant.”

  “Or our company.”

  “I know not of your company.” The field must’ve dropped or lessened because she dragged herself a few inches to a tree and pushed up against it. Panic gripped her, eyes wide. She held a hand to Drracien, who must’ve threatened more wielding, because she quickly added, “But I will do them no harm.”

  Haegan eased back to the accelerant, who seemed especially disturbed and agitated at relenting. “How did you know?”

  “I just knew.” Drracien watched her warily. “You cannot trust her.”

  “She gave her word.”

  “It does not mean anything.” He nodded at her. “Not to trained assassins.”

  “Assassins?” He stared at the accelerant. “What—?”

  “My brother will kill you, accelerant.” She dragged a shaking hand across her face, wiping the blood from her nose.

  “I would like to see him try,” Drracien said.

  She sneered. “You will not see anything when he comes for you.”

  Haegan touched her shoulder. “Friend, you gave your word not to harm us.”

  “It is not me who will do the harming,” she growled.

  “Then you have no honor?”

  She lifted her chin. “I do what I am commanded.”

  “And who commands you?”

  Lips tight, she turned away.

  “Let me end her,” Drracien said. “Her refusal to answer tells me who holds her leash—Poired Dyrth.”

  Shock washed through Haegan like a cold, biting wind. He looked at the girl. She’d been so nice. So friendly, though she couldn’t fake her accent well enough. He’d liked her. Trusted her and been alone with her. There were many opportunities for her to have killed him. And she hadn’t.

  She hung her head, burrowing into her shoulders. As if cowering from his gaze. Shame? But her defiance still sparked through those eyes.

  “Why?” Haegan heard himself ask. “Why would you choose to serve him? How can you not see what he’s doing?”

  Her green eyes rammed into him. “With the Cold One, there is no choice.”

  “The tenets of Iteveria demand honor above all else,” Haegan said. “Being commanded does not excuse your actions, Astadia. Duty is overruled by honor, and that is guided by the edicts of Abiassa.”

  “That is easily spoken when you are not under threats—”

  “Silence, Astadia!”

  Haegan spun, but was stunned to find Drracien had already turned and aimed his wielding at the intruder. The brother, he guessed by the look of the man, with his matching brown hair and green eyes. But also well-muscled and hardened.

  “Release her to me,” he said.

  “She threatened us.” Drracien was ready. For a fight. For blood.

  The man said nothing. Just stood there, a bow and arrow clutched in his left hand.

  “She gave her word,” Haegan said, moving forward to end the stalemate. “Not to harm us or our company.”

  The planes of his face were like stone. Hard, chiseled. “But I’m sure she made no such assurances about what I would do.”

  Haegan gritted his teeth.

  “No.” Drracien crossed in front of Haegan, his hands stirring the warmth in the air. “But over that rise are twenty Jujak and ten times that number of Ignatieri. Now, unless you are willing to take us all on . . .”

  “You are alienated from your Brethren, are you not, accelerant?” the man said. “And what fear should I have of the king’s royal guard—”

  “Every fear,” Haegan said. “We know you do the work of Sirdar of Tharqnis. Think you not the Jujak would take your very presence seriously, even as a threat, since the Unelithiens are ensconced about Fieri Keep even as we speak?”

  The man said nothing, but his upper arm muscle flexed. “Release her to me.”

  “We have no obligation—”

  Haegan touched Drracien’s shoulder. “We will release her. Unlike the two of you, we have no ill intent.”

  “Don’t you?” the man sneered. “A fugitive prince and master accelerant together and so close to justice? I think those over that rise would welcome news of your whereabouts.”

  Drracien stopped.

  A stalemate again.

  “We are Iteverians. If we say we will leave—”

  “Your ethnicity only means you are seasoned at deception, as we have learned from your sister.” Haegan didn’t know what to do, but the thought of being discovered by the Jujak proved terrifying. Especially when tomorrow he could walk beneath the waterfall and everything would return to normal.

  “What price would you pay, prince, to have knowledge of what hit you in the river?” The man seemed to have all the cards. “Would you want to know why you have that mark on your back?”

  Haegan flinched. “How—?”

  “Healers talk. You should be more careful with strangers. And—it’s no bruise.” He motioned to his sister. “Release her and I will tell you.”

  Mind racing with the man’s words, Haegan couldn’t speak. Couldn’t respond.

  “He plays you the fool,” Drracien said. “He had to have been there, and he wasn’t.”

  The Iteverian smirked. “You only think I wasn’t there. We can hide when we want to.” He turned his focus to Haegan. “Well, prince?”

  How they knew Haegan’s identity wasn’t as alarming as the fact that this man had information about a mark Haegan himself didn’t understand. Uncertainty was overcome by a longing to know what happened. He stepped aside. Astadia was on her feet now, her hair a tangled mess. She glided toward her brother. But at Haegan’s side, she paused. Touched him.

  “Astadia!”

  “Peace, Trale.” She pushed her green eyes to Haegan with a somber expression. “The prince saved my life. The accelerant meant to harm me.” Then she joined her brother and sighed. “We were told to discover why Jujak traveled so far north, away from their singular purpose—protecting the Fire King.” Again, she looked at Haegan. “Now we know.”

  The two were backing down the path, warily watching them.

  “Wait!” Haegan started forward.

  In a flash Trale’s arrow was nocked and aimed at him.

  Hands up, Haegan stopped. “You promised to tell me what you knew.”

  “Sorry.” The man shrugged, urging his sister behind him and continuing to recede from view. “It’s information. Invaluable for bartering.�
�

  “You lied! Deceived us.” The bald truth of it pressed against Haegan. “What honor is that?”

  Another lift of his shoulder as he stared down the shaft of his arrow. “Not a lie, a . . . delay. I never said when I’d tell you.”

  “You have what you want.”

  “Not everything.”

  “We returned your sister—to what end do you linger now?”

  A jeering smile. “To an end you cannot see.” He glanced at Drracien. “Right now.” And slipped off.

  Haegan rushed down the slope after them and rounded a corner. But they were nowhere in sight. He searched the trees, the greenery. “How could they know?”

  “He didn’t,” Drracien said. “He just heard an addled healer talking about it and thought to use it against you. And it worked.”

  36

  Did the mark on his back mean something? Was that even of great import considering the impenetrable path to the Great Falls? One day. That’s all he had left. He’d escaped his own father’s guard in Seultrie, though not of his own devices. Then he’d nearly fallen off a hilltop because some great creature—though of this he was still not convinced—attacked him. Faced the Ematahri, babbling in a nonsense language according to Thiel, whom he trusted with his life. She might be vigilant and fierce, but she was not a liar. And then the blinding light that killed dozens of warriors. Haegan was surprised he didn’t have nightmares. Maybe they’d come once he was no longer fighting for his life and Kaelyria’s.

  “You are disappointed the girl deceived you?”

  Haegan started at the question, almost having forgotten that Drracien was walking with him back to the tent. “What?”

  “The girl.” Drracien flipped his shiny black hair from his face and revealed a grin. “I mean, she was pretty. She seemed to have had a mild interest in you. Then you find out she’s lying her head off.” He shrugged, his long cloak fluttering as he hopped off a boulder onto the path. “I’d be singed about that.”

  “She is the least of my worries.”

  With a guffaw, Drracien plucked a weed and spread it between his thumbs. “She is an Iteverian assassin! How can you believe her the least of your troubles?”