A Chorus of Fire

by Brian D. Anderson

  Evylyn Highlorn,

  Thaumas of the High Order of Kylor

  A letter kept in the Thaumas archives

  “Halt!”

  Mariyah peeled open her eyes as the carriage eased to a stop. Torchlight flickered from outside the window, and orders were shouted for soldiers to form a line in the road.

  “Take the carriage and horses. We’ll be going to the gate.”

  “The way is impassible,” a female voice replied. “A storm came two nights ago.”

  “Do as I say.”

  The carriage jostled, and the door opened.

  Belkar poked his head in and smiled. “You’re awake. Good.”

  Mariyah slid from her seat and stepped out. They were on a snow-covered road, on either side of which were two stone buildings about the size of an average farmhouse. The ground was crisscrossed with boot prints, mostly leading to the fires where what she estimated to be about twenty soldiers all bearing the crest of Ralmarstad on their breastplate were gathered. The Teeth of the Gods loomed above them, their jagged peaks barely visible in the light of a quarter moon. She had watched each day as they drew near, seeming so close and yet at the end of the day appearing the same distance away. Now, standing at their base, she was awestruck. A pity there’s no daylight, she thought.

  Five soldiers were lined up across the road in front of the carriage, each carrying a black-tipped spear. Mariyah wondered how many of the Ralmarstad army were Belkar’s followers. Or did they still believe they served the Archbishop?

  “Impressive, are they not?” Belkar remarked, looking up at the mountains.

  Mariyah refused to speak; she had been silent since the night he had beaten Damio senseless. As promised, the man had been healed by morning. But Belkar dismissed him, ordering him back to Syleria—an order he was more than eager to obey.

  Belkar was handed a pack, which he slung over one shoulder. Mariyah glanced back to where her belongings were still stowed in the rear.

  “You won’t be needing anything,” Belkar said.

  “My lord,” a young man said, doing his best to look unbothered by the cold. “There are no supplies at the gate.”

  “I have all we need,” he replied. “Thank you.” When the soldier did not leave, he said: “What is it?”

  “The Captain was correct, my lord. The way is blocked.” His eyes darted to Mariyah. “I can put together a work detail to clear it out. But it will take a few days.”

  Belkar chuckled. “How very considerate. Don’t you think, Mariyah? But you see, these mountains are mine. I come and go as I please.”

  The soldier looked as if he were about to protest, but he wilted as Belkar’s smile faded. “Yes, my lord. I was only thinking of the lady.”

  “You should leave,” Belkar said, taking a step forward.

  As the soldier scampered away, slipping twice in the snow, Belkar sighed. “Ralmarstad attitudes toward women are irksome, don’t you think? As if you were incapable of taking care of yourself.”

  “Do they know who you are?” Mariyah asked.

  “Of course,” Belkar said. “I’m Lord Landon Valmore.”

  A soldier jumped into the front of the carriage and drove it toward a building to their left. Belkar gestured for Mariyah to follow, then started up the road. She hesitated until he was several yards ahead, taking another long look at the distant peaks. His mountains. There was probably more truth to that statement than she wanted to know. Reluctantly, she followed behind him, before the anklet compelled her obedience.

  As they’d been informed, after less than half a mile, the road was buried in several feet of snow. The moonlight reflected quite well, revealing that there was no way around other than to dig straight through. She was on the verge of chastising him for not listening to the soldiers when the ground began to rumble.

  Belkar looked over his shoulder. “You should step closer to me.” When she did not move, he shrugged. “As you wish.”

  The edge of the snow dripped away, like the first melting at the far point of winter. Soon, hundreds of tiny threads of water began streaming down. Mariyah turned to see that the flow stopped a few yards behind her, as if an invisible dam prevented it from spilling to the bottom. Gradually a wall of ice began to form, spanning the entire breadth of the pass. Mariyah was transfixed.

  There was an earsplitting crack that startled her back into the moment. It was then she understood why Belkar had suggested she move closer. All at once, the snow melted, sending a raging flood careening straight toward them. She bolted to Belkar, reaching him simultaneously with the water. Rather than sweep them away, the current parted, flowing on either side, leaving them untouched. Mariyah again looked behind her. The wall of ice was now more than a dozen feet high, and continued to climb.

  “Don’t be afraid,” Belkar said.

  Mariyah realized she was gripping his arm and released her hold. “I was taken off guard. I’m not afraid.”

  “Of course not. Forgive my impertinence.”

  The flow lasted for more than an hour, the wall of ice growing until it was perhaps one hundred feet high. In its wake the path was left dry, and the air had grown comfortably warm. This was what he meant by it being his mountain.

  “I thought Landon’s body could not endure magic,” she remarked, as they started out once again.

  “So near the gate I can influence the world beyond my prison,” he explained. “Melting snow is a trifle. Soon you will learn to manifest whatever your heart desires.”

  The temptation to learn more was not easily ignored. If this was a trifle, what were his limits? Yet she would not allow him to know that she was awestruck, and shrugged with indifference.

  “My heart desires to leave.”

  He unslung the pack and retrieved two apples, offering one to Mariyah. When she refused, he frowned and said: “You must eat.”

  “I’ll wait.”

  “You will forgive me if I don’t. It’s a long climb.”

  The road gradually narrowed and became steeper as it hugged the mountainside. Mariyah stayed close to Belkar as the right side of the path dropped off into a deep chasm. The hollow moan of the wind rising from the depths was disquieting, like tortured spirits begging to be released. The image of Belkar’s army flashed through her mind—a ghoulish multitude of mindless savagery poised to be unleashed upon the world.

  Her legs began to burn after a time as the pitch of the trail increased and the pleasing warmth of the air rose to an oppressive heat.

  “Are you all right?” Belkar asked.

  Landon’s body was in fine condition, but still he was panting and huffing from the exertion. “I’m fine,” she replied, hiding her fatigue and speaking as if they were on nothing more challenging than a lazy afternoon stroll in the garden.

  “I’d forgotten how tedious it is plodding around the world like this,” Belkar complained.

  “There’s only one way up a mountain,” she said. “But feel free to turn back.”

  “There are many ways up a mountain, my love. Soon this will not be the one you’ll choose.”

  For another two miles they trudged on, until Mariyah was on the brink of demanding a halt. Only her stubborn aversion to showing Belkar weakness prevented it. Though from the heavy grunts and sucking of teeth, he was faring no better.

  Mercifully, the ground began to level, and the path broadened until it was nearly flat. It curved left, ending at an oblong terrace at the far end of which was a sheer cliff wall that climbed hundreds of feet high.

  Belkar bent down, hands pressed to his knees. “At last.”

  Mariyah wanted to drop and massage her thighs and empty her boot of the rocks that had snuck inside and were rubbing her feet raw. Instead she scowled down at Belkar, shaking her head disapprovingly.

  “Mortal weaknesses are not things I envy,” he said, pushing himself upright. “Come. There is food and a soft bed waiting.”

  She tried not to appear relieved to hear this. The pain in her belly made her
regret not taking the apple.

  There was a thin opening in the rock, above which was carved a series of runes. She had seen them before, or she thought she had, in a text on the ancient language of the Thaumas. She hadn’t spent time learning it as it did not directly relate to her lessons.

  “It says, Beware all with dark intentions,” Belkar said, noticing her interest, “for death lies within.” He sniffed. “Childish warnings meant to frighten the ignorant, put there by weak fools who believed themselves infallible and wise.”

  “They were able to defeat you,” she pointed out. “So maybe not weak fools.”

  “And now they are all dust. And I am returning.”

  They ducked inside and proceeded down a short corridor, which opened into a spacious domed gallery, several hundred feet in diameter. The walls and ceiling were blanketed in gemstones of infinite variety, and their colors danced and sparkled from a circle of orbs fixed into the apex fifty feet above, that projected soft white light. Several doors were set on either side, and directly ahead a flat rock facing, framed with a tall onyx archway, which curiously led nowhere. The floors looked to be granite, though they reflected light like polished marble.

  “Behold the gate,” Belkar said, his arm sweeping to the archway. “Beyond awaits my true self.”

  Mariyah examined it, though from a distance. The stones comprising the archway were unremarkable, with no glyphs or runes as she would have expected. The only thing peculiar was that it served no obvious purpose. The wall within the arch was rough and dull—a part of the mountain, as near as she could tell.

  “I’m not going to help you,” she said yet again.

  “Not today,” he replied. “Not tomorrow. But you will. Of this you can be sure. Until then…” He reached into his shirt and removed the blue orb and chain from around his neck. “Feel free to explore your new accommodations.” There was a pop and a flash, and the orb turned to dust.

  At once, Mariyah bent down and tore off the anklet. Without so much as a word, she called forth the most powerful spell she knew. Her hands shot out, wrists together, and a massive stream of white fire streaked into Belkar’s chest. She held the spell until the pain of the magic in her hands was unbearable.

  She stepped quickly back, livid to discover that Belkar was unharmed.

  “I’m afraid it won’t work,” he said. “And the way out is sealed. But do feel at liberty to try.”

  Mariyah let out a rage-filled scream, all of her hatred and frustration echoing from the cavern walls.

  “I’m sorry you’re unhappy,” Belkar said. “I wish there were another way.”

  She spun and ran headlong toward the exit. But as Belkar had told her, the end of the corridor was sealed. She went over in her mind what spells she knew that might break through. The answer was obvious: transmutation. Mariyah closed her eyes and wove an illusion around the exit. The rock shimmered and gradually faded into smoke. Make this real, she thought. But something was resisting the transformation. Beads of sweat formed on her brow as the minutes passed.

  “There is no way out.”

  She hadn’t heard Belkar approach. Her shoulders sagged, and she dropped to her knees from the exhaustive effort. “I hate you.”

  “That will change in time.”

  She looked up, eyes swollen and red with angry tears. “It will never change. If you think I could ever learn to love you, you’re more insane than I thought.”

  “You see things from a mortal perspective,” Belkar said, his voice tender. “Time for you has limits. You measure it with the change of the seasons. You cannot fathom what it means to watch a mighty oak grow from a sapling, only to whither to dust, its decaying body feeding the next generation of the world.”

  “All things die,” she said. “What you want is unnatural.”

  Belkar smiled down at her. “I once thought as you do. I viewed the world as finite moments, gone before you knew they were there. But I came to understand the truth. There is no end. Only eternal cycles of life and death. Why should we succumb to that which itself defies oblivion? No, my love. Death is not a requirement. I exist. And will continue to do so … with you at my side.”

  “But why destroy everything? If you’re immortal, there is no reason for it.”

  “I’ve told you my reasons. But I do not expect you to grasp them. You may think you have seen the true nature of mortals; the depth of depravity and horror that they allow as a constant companion. But you have only seen the surface of what they are capable of. I have witnessed it in every form. In the world I envision, there is no more pain or sorrow. The people of Lamoria will belong to me, and I to them.” He turned and started back to the gallery. “And we will be together through time everlasting.”

  Mariyah remained kneeling on the floor for a time, desperately beating back the helplessness and fury threatening to consume her. He’s mad. That’s the only explanation. Centuries of isolation had driven him mad. Or he’s lying to you—a tiny voice in the back of her mind seeped to the fore. None of this is as it seems.

  She rose and leaned against the wall, unwilling to return to the gallery for the time being. She could see Belkar at the far end, sitting on the floor in front of the gate, cross-legged and head bowed.

  There must be a way out of this nightmare. Her magic was useless, and she was certain there would be no tunnel leading away that Belkar would not know about. In the end, she knew what she had to do. But the solution was more than she could bear at the moment.

  After a few more minutes, she gathered her composure and returned to the gallery to explore her new surroundings. The first of the three doors to the right was a bedchamber. It had been hewn and shaped to resemble one that might be found in any home, complete with a bed, dressers, and a wardrobe. The clothes she found fit her perfectly, and the mattress was soft and cool, as she liked it, as if she’d been expected—which was likely the case. The second room was roughly hollowed out, with a pool of steaming hot water in the center, beside which were a variety of soaps and perfumes, all of which she was fond of. The third was empty aside from a bedroll and a crate of decent wine in the corner. Belkar’s chamber?

  The other side housed a library, a second washroom, and a dining area. The table was filled to bursting with meats, bread, and fruits. Mariyah’s stomach growled, and her mouth watered to the point she was forced to swallow so not to drool.

  “You can’t starve yourself to death,” she said, taking a plate from a cabinet in the far corner. She had thought about it, hoping it might force Belkar to give up. But it was more likely he would put the anklet back on and compel her to eat. He needed her alive and strong. Whatever lies he had told, that much was true.

  The food was bland though not unpalatable, with the wine being the most pleasing part of the meal. Once her hunger was satisfied, she rose from the table and looked for a place to dispose of her plate. There was enough left over to feed another ten people. What a waste, she thought. But as she rounded the table to leave, the food and dishes became translucent, pulsing with a faint yellow light before vanishing completely.

  Everything she had eaten, along with the wine … a result of transmutation. That would account for the bland taste. But how could one survive on transmuted food? It seemed impossible. Surely it lacked the qualities of real food. But her hunger was as satisfied as if the meal were as real as any she’d eaten before. Such power could end hunger throughout Lamoria.

  She looked out to see Belkar still seated in front of the archway. The decision she was finding herself drawn toward was making her nauseous. And what made it so much worse was the knowledge that Belkar had orchestrated the situation knowing full well that she would do precisely what he wanted. The prospect of wielding great power would not be enough; she was not driven by power. But to have the ability to cure hunger … to pass this knowledge on to the Thaumas.… She hated him all the more for manipulating her this way. And she hated herself for allowing it.

  Crossing the gallery, she entered the bed
chamber and picked out a comfortable pair of pants and a soft blouse. She then walked to the bathing chamber and soaked in the hot water until the soreness in her muscles was gone and the call of a good night’s sleep could not be ignored.

  How long would she be there? More importantly, how did Belkar intend to convince her to help him? If it was a matter of controlling her mind, wouldn’t he have already tried? Perhaps he had, and was unsuccessful. No. She would have known … wouldn’t she? What truly terrified her was the notion that she might help him despite any resistance she could offer. Belkar had maneuvered her expertly. He would certainly have a plan—one that compelled her to surrender her will to his. The only hope she had left was to figure it out before he was ready to initiate it.

  Exiting the washroom, she saw Belkar walking away from her bedroom at an urgent pace, head turned deliberately away and arms hugging his torso. He crossed the floor and entered the second washroom without a word.

  Mariyah approached her door with caution, unsettled by this odd behavior. Upon entering, she found a piece of paper lying folded on her bed. The words had been hastily scrawled and were barely legible; it took no small degree of concentration to make out what the letter said.

  Mariyah,

  I don’t have much time. Belkar believes my mind ruined and unable to control my body. When he discovers what I’ve done, that will be true enough. So this is my only chance.

  I know you will never forgive me, but know that I am deeply sorry for what I have done to you. I was promised eternal life and happiness in exchange for my obedience. A promise I now see will not be kept.