Fire Mage (Firecaller Series Book 1)

by Trudi Jaye

  Jena’s shoulders sagged in disappointment.

  “Is there somewhere nearby where we might find horses for sale?” Nate’s voice was polite, but Jena could feel his tension.

  The smith paused a moment, but shook his head. “The only horses you’ll find around here are ones you’d wish you’d never seen.”

  Jena raised her eyebrows at that. “Perhaps if you showed us these horses, we might be able to see if there are any that would suit us?”

  The smith snorted, but it was a grim and sparse amusement. “This is not a horse you’d ever want to ride.” He glanced out to where they’d left their horses. “In fact, you’ll need to hide your own horses if you want them to survive what’s coming.”

  Jena frowned, trying to understand. “What’s coming?” Her mind pictured the Riders. Had this village received the attentions of another set of the creatures? Nate looked just as confused as she was.

  “Every day for the last week, we’ve been attacked. A great black horse with a terrible demon riding it.” The large man shuddered, and for the first time Jena realized the man wasn’t stern, he was just consumed by fear.

  “What happens? What does it want?” Jena was afraid of the answer. Was it another terrible beast set free by Lothar?

  “Each time it visits, it demands a sacrifice. It—” The sound of hooves pounding over a hard surface made the blacksmith pause. “Too late. You say you need two more horses? Now you will lose those you already have.”

  Without thinking, Jena raced outside to where their horses were nervously stomping and shaking their heads. Nate swore and followed her. The whites of the horses’ eyes were showing, and their nostrils were flared.

  Jena could see why.

  In the middle of the town square stood a winged horse-like beast, its black coat glinting in the sun like steel. Great black wings stretched out each side, past twice its length. The creature’s eyes glowed red and flames licked out of its nostrils and hooves. Burn marks scorched the earth where it paced across the town square.

  On the back of the massive winged horse sat a woman. Small and delicate, she had hair the exact color of the animal she was riding. Her skin was pale, almost grey, and she wore a black silk dress, which seemed to merge into the horse she rode. Her eyes were startling: large golden orbs that glittered in the late afternoon light. She sat easily on the back of the beast she rode.

  Argus’s black stallion bucked and tried to pull himself free of the rope that linked him to the edge of the forge. Nate appeared at the horse’s side, and made sure the leather held strong, while attempting to calm the animal

  “Oh no, dear villagers,” spoke the woman, a cold smile on her face. “A horse, no matter how strong, will not do this time. I wish for something more... substantial.”

  “The horse isn’t for you.” The words were out of Jena’s mouth before she could stop herself. She stepped nearer the creature, not sure what she intended to do, just knowing that she needed to keep their horses away from this new threat.

  A metallic laugh echoed around her. “If not the horse, then perhaps you, little human?” The woman’s voice started on a purr, the words rolling around on her tongue, but ended in a growl.

  Almost without thinking about it, Jena flicked through the Book of Spells, and found a picture that reflected the creature she saw before her. It was a murghah: a flying creature of the night, it usually dwelled in the darkest corners of the earth during daylight hours. Two minds working as one, the woman on the horse’s back was connected to her beast, as much a part of the murghah as its wings.

  The Book of Spells did not do the murghah justice. In real life, it was far more terrifying. It was a creature of fire and darkness; she could feel ripples of its shadowy energy hitting the square all around her. Beside her, Nate shifted.

  “What is it?” he whispered.

  “A murghah,” Jena replied, keeping her voice as low as possible. She heard Nate’s intake of breath. At least he’d heard of them.

  “I thought they hated the sunlight?”

  Jena raised her eyebrows at him, impressed at his casual knowledge of the beast. “Lothar,” she said, shrugging. “It can only be him.”

  As they watched, grey spots started to appear on the flank of the horse. Jena realized it was being burned by the sun. Its skin was too sensitive for the midday heat. A murghah would never voluntarily emerge during the day; it had to be under Lothar’s control.

  And if the king-in-waiting could command a beast such as this, he was far stronger than she had thought.

  “What do you want?” she asked the murghah.

  “I want your soul, little one.” The murghah woman pulled out a large glowing red gem from a hidden pocket in her dress. Jena squinted at the jewel. It looked just like the one in the Hashishin knife she had wrapped in her bag, only much bigger and much stronger. The Murghah woman held it high above her head and started chanting.

  “Where in the Flames did it get a fire ruby?” said Nate studying the murghah intently.

  Jena glanced at Nate. “I don’t know, but it’s not good,” she said.

  “But even he couldn’t... could he?” Nate looked at the Murghah again, a new expression on his face. “Fire rubies can be used in a lot of ways. They’re very potent.”

  In that moment, Jena felt something pull at her, and took a step forward before she could think about it. She tried to stop, but her feet took another step and then another. She was heading toward the center of the square, where the murghah waited next to the Flame Echo.

  “What are you doing, Jena? Get back here,” said Nate from behind her.

  “I’m not doing it. It’s dragging me in,” she said, panic making her voice rise.

  Nate raced forward and grabbed her arm, pulling at her.

  It didn’t make any difference, Jena felt herself being dragged by some unseen force toward the murghah. She dug her heels into the ground, and gritted her teeth, trying to force her body to stay still. She took another step.

  “Come here, little human. I want to take your soul,” purred the murghah.

  Jena lifted her head, looking to where the woman held the gem in her hand. “It’s definitely a fire ruby?” she said to Nate, who was following just behind her, his hands still on her arm.

  He nodded.

  “Fire rubies can be used for amplifying power, and holding magic. They’re also used for storing things—like souls.” Despite straining for all she was worth against the pull, Jena took another reluctant step toward the Murghah. “That’s how Lothar is gaining power. He’s forcing this creature to suck people’s souls and then using it to control the Flames.”

  Nate let out a choked reply, as horrified as she was by the revelation. “We have to stop it. I’ll use my flames,” he said. Nate made to open his hands, but Jena waved them aside.

  “It’s a creature of fire. It won’t care if you send more its way. We have to—” All of a sudden Jena was yanked hard; she set off at a run toward the Murghah, covering the rest of the distance at speed.

  When she was almost alongside the winged creature, a white mist began emerging from her body, thickening until she was enveloped in it.

  She felt weak, a shadow of herself. Looking up into the eyes of the Murghah, Jena saw the golden orbs glowing alongside the ruby she held.

  Jena screamed.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  Nate ran after Jena.

  He didn’t know what he could do, but the fire was bubbling inside him and he hoped it would help. They had been successful against the Riders, but this creature was more powerful and it could think for itself. A far more dangerous combination.

  Jena had said his flames wouldn’t bother the murghah. So what else was there? He’d always been a mediocre mage, but at least he’d been able to do some tricks. Now he couldn’t even help at all.

  “Son, the answer is right in front of you.” As always, the mage ghost appeared from nowhere. “You’re just not seeing it. You can bend fire to your will.
You can see through this world to the next. And you can control fire creatures like the lavaen.”

  The mage ghost stopped and then said very slowly. “Did you catch the last part, Nate? It’s going to be vital if you are to save Jena. Go!”

  Nate raced to where Jena was kneeling in front of the murghah, praying the ghost’s information was right. There was a white mist around her body, steadily streaming toward the ruby. It was the same as seeing ghosts; he could literally see her soul leaving her body.

  “Stop!” he yelled, making his voice boom, using the power at his core. The sound echoed around the village much like the murghah’s voice had. The deadly golden eyes looked up from contemplation of the fire ruby to where Nate stood a short distance away.

  “Who are you, little man? Do you wish me to take your soul as well?”

  “You will put her soul back. Right. Now.” Nate concentrated on his internal flames, the blazing center that was becoming more and more familiar to him. He pulled the power out and pushed it at the Murghah.

  It didn’t work. The creature simply laughed; a sound like metal on metal. “I think I will take you as well. My master will be pleased.”

  Digging deeper, Nate screwed his eyes shut, drawing out the power that emerged with the burning flames. “You will do as I bid,” he said, his voice hissing and crackling with the energy surrounding him. Sweat trickled down his face, and his body literally creaked with the tension.

  The murghah screeched. Nate looked up into the eyes of a creature that had been to the darkest fires of the land. “You will release her soul and you will never come back here again.” His voice burned, and he pulled out everything inside him to add weight to his words.

  The woman’s face curled up in fury. She opened her mouth and let out a high-pitched scream. Nate clamped his hands over his ears, trying to block out the painful sound, and fell to his knees. The noise drilled into his head; his brain throbbed and it was as if needles were attacking his ears. Spots appeared in front of his eyes and he thought he might pass out.

  It hadn’t worked. Nate’s whole body tensed up, waiting to feel the pain of his soul being extracted. From deep inside, one last arrow of rage and fire burst out of him, aimed directly at the murghah.

  Abruptly, the screaming stopped. A whoosh of hot air and the smell of horse brushed across Nate’s face and then were gone. He blinked. Beside him, Jena blearily rubbed a hand across her face. The murghah had disappeared.

  “What happened?” she asked weakly, still on her knees in the dirt.

  Nate stared up into the sky. “I think I scared it away,” he said. In the distance, a small black dot raced away from the sun.

  “Damn right you scared it away, boy. Well done.” The ghost mage clapped him on the shoulder, sending a chill across his back.

  “How?” Jena brushed hair from her face. Her gaze caught and held Nate’s.

  “I don’t know. The same powers as last night,” he said, his voice low.

  Jena leaned her head to one side, looking at him with considering eyes. “The flames. The demons,” she said eventually. “There is a kind of power that can do that.”

  “What would that be?” asked Nate, his body tensing.

  Jena paused, her long hair curling around her face. “You have an affinity with fire demons. You managed to turn away a lavaen, and now a murghah. You burned that camp.” The last was said reluctantly. “I think you’re a Fire Mage. Maybe even the Firecaller from the prophecy.”

  Nate shook his head as he stood and offered his hand. Jena grasped it and pulled herself up. “I can’t control these new powers,” he said. “A real Fire Mage would be strong enough to wield them properly. Something’s happened; maybe I’ve been given them accidentally.”

  “A Fire Mage is born, Nate.” Jena stared at him. “You have abilities you’ve had since you were a child, don’t you? Things that no one else is able to do.”

  Nate winced, thinking of the ghosts who’d been keeping him company all his life. And the fire demons who couldn’t say no when he called.

  “You know my secrets,” she said, an intense look on her face. “Tell me yours.”

  He shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way.”

  Jena’s eyes flashed. “Tell me.”

  Taking a deep breath, Nate considered it. He knew about her spell casting and could get her killed just by mentioning it to another mage. Perhaps she deserved to know at least one of his secrets.

  He rubbed a hand across his face. “I see ghosts,” he said. “The ones lurking in the Edges who haven’t left for the next world. And there’s currently a ghost mage following me around. He’s the one who helped me last night, and who told me what to do today.”

  Jena paused, her eyes getting a vague look. She blinked and looked back at him. “It does say that for a Fire Mage the barriers between this world and the next are very thin. Seeing ghosts would make sense.”

  Nate blinked. As easy as that, Jena explained away the secret he’d held to his chest his whole life. “What else do you know?”

  Jena opened her mouth to reply and then closed it, gesturing behind Nate with her head. “We can talk later. We’ve got company.”

  And with that, the blacksmith swept up to them, pulling Nate into a hearty embrace. “You made it leave! You saved us.” He lifted Nate onto his shoulder as if he weighed nothing, grabbed Jena’s hand, and dragged them both to where a crowd was gathering around the forge.

  Cheers and whistles greeted them, and the smithy put Nate down—reluctantly—so he could talk to the other villagers.

  “How did you do it?” asked a woman clutching two small children. “How did you make it go away?”

  “Will it come back?” asked a man, his eyes darting between Jena and Nate.

  “I told it never to return. I believe it will adhere to that.”

  A ragged cheer rose up out of the throats of the people gathered around them. Many had tears in their eyes and down their cheeks.

  Nate smiled, shook hands, accepted hugs, and nodded when he was thanked. He turned at one point, trying to find Jena in the crowd, and saw her standing off to one side, giving an apple to Argus’s horse.

  The blacksmith, who had barely left his side the entire time, saw him glance at Jena, and nudged him in the ribs. “She’s your woman? She’s very brave.”

  Nate nodded absently. “Yes, she’s very brave.” She also held so many secrets he almost couldn’t keep track.

  “You’re sure the beast won’t come back?” he asked again.

  “I told it not to come back. That’s why it tricked me as it left, I think. It didn’t want me to give it any more orders.”

  The blacksmith nodded and then grinned, slapping Nate’s back. “Then in return, we will get you more horses.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Jena checked the saddle on Argus’s great black stallion, making sure the leather straps were tight. Next to her, Nate did the same for their two new horses. The smith had ensured the horses they’d been given were both in excellent condition. A strong brown stallion, with a blaze of white across his nose and again on his rump, and a pretty, little black mare.

  Although she was tempted to ride the black mare, she’d decided to stay on the stallion, just to make sure he didn’t try to run off. She wouldn’t put it past him, and she couldn’t bear the thought of telling Argus she’d lost his horse.

  Next to her, the blacksmith’s young apprentice was stuffing extra supplies into Nate’s saddlebag. Nate smiled at the villagers crowded around them; they were so grateful to have been saved from the murghah, they had insisted on a send-off for them. She was glad Nate was good at talking to strangers because it scared her senseless to be surrounded by people that she didn’t know.

  The blacksmith breathed out a sigh. “We can’t thank you enough,” he said, mostly to Nate. He paused, looking at the bulging travel packs. “Are you sure you have sufficient supplies?”

  Nate nodded. “Thank you, yes, you’ve been more t
han generous. We need to be on our way. We must return to our companions.” He clapped the blacksmith on the back and then nodded his head at Jena. As one, they swung up into their saddles. Jena let out a sigh. She was relieved to be leaving.

  Nate bowed his head in a salute to the villagers milling around their horses. “Thank you for your help. May the Flames protect you all.” He was very good at being gracious.

  Jena tried to smile, but she was afraid it was more of a grimace.

  The villagers parted and Nate and Jena rode out the way they had come only a few hours before.

  The landscape rolled out in front of them, and they rode in silence for several miles.

  Then Nate finally asked the question she had been waiting for. “What else do you know about Fire Mages?”

  Jena sighed. “Not much, Nate, truly. Just that the great mage was a Fire Mage. It’s very rare.”

  “And me seeing ghosts… that’s part of it?”

  “Yes, I think so. Have you always seen ghosts? Even as a child?”

  Nate nodded. “They’ve always been around.”

  “It didn’t scare you?”

  “Sometimes. But they also took care of me, played with me. They want me to do things for them, which can be wearying.”

  “What kind of things?”

  “They’re still in the Edges for a reason. It can be something silly like a lost family locket, or something serious like murder. But they always want me to fix things for them.”

  “And do you try?”

  Nate didn’t answer for a while. “I used to try, until I realized ghosts don’t always tell the whole truth. They can’t lie, as such, but they can omit important information. They were people, after all. Just because they died, they didn’t suddenly become more honest or have more integrity.”

  “So some of them tricked you?”

  He nodded. “I tried to help a ghost who said he had been murdered. He knew who was responsible, and he wanted me to tell the local authorities. It was his wife.”