Flameseeker (Book 3)

by R. M. Prioleau

“Soddin ’ells!” Nester exclaimed, once Kaijin had finished.

  Zarya blinked. “An afriti!”

  “Not again!” Omari grumbled.

  Aidan folded his arms across his broad chest, eyeing the four of them coolly. “Aidan thinks it is foolish to get involved in cleric matters. In fact ...” He winced and groaned, and struggled to reach behind him to scratch his back.

  Kaijin watched the giant struggle for a moment, then turned to the others with an inquiring arch of an eyebrow.

  Nester dismissively waved his hand. “Ah, ’e’s been doin’ that a lot lately.”

  Zarya began to approach Aidan but stopped when a child acolyte entered the room. Kaijin recognized the child as the mapmaking girl from earlier.

  “Hi. Want me to help you, mister?” she asked Aidan with a wide innocent smile.

  Aidan paused his scratching and looked down at the girl. “Oh, you don’t have to do that, little girl. But thank you.”

  “It’s okay. I was just on my way to bed when I saw you had an itchy back. I can help scratch it for you. My mentor says that we should be like a bright flame, guiding and helping others in need.”

  Aidan cracked a small smile. “That almost sounds like what Aidan’s master once told him, when Aidan was little boy.”

  The girl giggled. “Itchy backs aren’t fun. Let me help you, please? My name is Odessa, and I’m sev—!”

  “Odessa!” Nester interrupted her prattle. “So glad you decided to ’elp ’im! ’Is name’s Aidan, if you ’aven’t already guessed. ’E can get a li’l cranky sometimes, when ’is back’s not scratched enough.”

  “Nester!” Zarya barked.

  “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll make sure Mister Aidan is not cranky anymore,” Odessa said with a firm nod.

  Aidan glowered at Nester, then reluctantly got down on his knees for the girl to reach his back.

  Odessa moved behind Aidan and happily scratched his back with both hands. She was only able to reach up to the middle of his back, but that seemed to be more than enough for Aidan. Subtle contented growls rumbled from his throat, and he closed his eyes.

  Odessa laughed. “You sound funny, Aidan!”

  Zarya turned aside and covered her mouth to hide her smile.

  “Confound it. I wish we would just get on with it already,” Omari muttered.

  Aidan opened his eyes and stared off in a daze. “It feels good, Odessa. You are good back scratcher.”

  “Oh! You got bumps on your back!”

  “Yes, Aidan knows,” Aidan replied.

  “Do they hurt?”

  “No, they just make Aidan’s back itch a lot.”

  Kaijin slipped away from his friends and approached the shallow staircase. Ranaiah and four other clerics stood at the top before the burning brazier, deep in meditation.

  Kaijin stroked his chin. I wonder if I can locate Vargas by using the brazier in the same manner I had used it before to speak to the Firelord? After some hesitation, he began climbing the stairs.

  Ranaiah glanced over her shoulder, meeting his gaze, and he froze in place, entranced. Only after she turned away did he continue his ascent.

  He finally stood beside her, his hands clasped in front of him and his head lowered in deference to the praying clergy. The murmurs of the other clerics on either side of him were comforting. Ranaiah slowly placed her hand over his.

  His head still bowed, Kaijin eyed her delicate hand and the ornate gold ring that decorated one slender finger. Etched on the ring were intricate flame patterns. He whispered loud enough for her ears only, “I want to attempt to scry Vargas in the Plane of Fire.”

  “We have already tried numerous times,” Ranaiah whispered back. “But the flames reveal nothing to us.”

  “Let me try. Maybe the flames will reveal something to a Firebrand.”

  She gave his hand a small squeeze. “Be careful, Kaijin.”

  “I will.” Kaijin frowned, recalling the last time he’d consulted the flames. They had tormented his mind, nearly making him go insane.

  “I will awaken you, should I feel your life essence departing your body.”

  Kaijin nodded, reassured by Ranaiah’s promise.

  Ranaiah waited for the other priests to conclude their prayers then directed them to stand clear while Kaijin prepared to commune with the leaping flames of the great brazier. As he stepped closer to the edge of the brass vessel, his charm heated against his skin until it singed his chest. He let out a yelp, more from surprise that he was unable to tolerate the heat than from the pain. It wasn’t the first time such a phenomenon had happened to him, but after all he’d been through, he thought he had matured beyond being harmed by heat or fire.

  Kaijin grabbed the charm from beneath his robes and yanked it out. The charm radiated a bright white light that nearly blinded him. Heat seared his hand and Kaijin tried desperately to pry it off, but the gold stuck to his palm.

  The pain brought stinging tears to Kaijin’s eyes. Gritting his teeth, he tried to shut out the pain and concentrate. The scrying spell, which allowed one the ability to locate a target, was simple enough, but even the few components it usually required were not needed now—not when the fiery presence was so near. He feared the presence would augment the spell in ways he didn’t desire—like trapping his soul in places he didn’t want to remain.

  “You are a foolish mortal, Kaijin Sora,” the hissing, crackling voice said in his mind. “Why do you seek questions to which you already know the answers?”

  Kaijin replied mentally, “I know he’s in the Plane of Fire, but I don’t know how to get him out.”

  The voice laughed darkly. “No, Kaijin Sora. He is not here.”

  “What!”

  An image of the Realm of Fire revealed itself within the flames to Kaijin. He remembered that place all too well. The red-hued desolate land burned continuously. In the distance, two afriti armed with flaming scimitars patrolled the land.

  Kaijin’s heart raced. He wasn’t sure if the monsters were aware of him, and he wanted to sever the spell before he could find out.

  But the presence within Kaijin maintained the spell against his will.

  “Enough ... I’ve seen enough,” Kaijin said.

  The fiery voice gave another vicious laugh in his mind. “No, Kaijin Sora. You obviously have not seen enough. You obviously have not felt enough.”

  The patrolling afriti turned and looked in Kaijin’s direction.

  Even from afar, Kaijin could feel the monsters’ spellbinding turquoise gazes penetrate his soul. He widened his eyes and let out a sharp gasp.

  “A Firebrand knows neither fear nor pain,” the voice continued. “Nor do they have limits.”

  “N-no,” Kaijin said shakily. “Please keep them away!”

  But the creatures continued advancing, and Kaijin feared that the brazier he was currently gazing into was not the altar of Ignis, but another gateway altogether.

  Along with the two patrolling afriti, a red scaly creature slithered from behind them, flicking its slender forked tongue. While it was not as sizable as the two afriti, it was equally menacing. The face and lower half of its body resembled a snake, while its torso seemed more like a muscular human’s. Its angular features reminded Kaijin of a mixture of a snake and a troll. As on the afriti, fire burned continuously along its reddish-orange skin. Its clawed hands carried a large flaming polearm.

  Kaijin swallowed hard, recognizing the creature from books he’d found in the Ignan vault. Agama, they were called—Ignis’s ruthless snakemen warriors, one of the many fiery creatures that inhabited the Firelord’s realm.

  He clutched the charm around his neck. “Why are you tormenting me? I thought I belonged to you?” He gritted his teeth, and his fist shook. “I thought I was in your favor! What have I done to anger you?”

  “You still do not realize the power you hold.”

  Kaijin shook his head. “What power?”

  “The very one that controls your fears, your passions. But you will
learn. You must learn.”

  “You’re going to make those creatures kill me, aren’t you? Me! Your chosen! Vargas was who forsook you!”

  The agama pointed its spear through the wall of flames and at Kaijin’s chest. Kaijin remained still.

  “Vargas has done exactly what I expected,” the voice said. “And soon, you will, too.”

  The voice left Kaijin’s mind, and pain speared his chest. He was certain the agama had impaled him, but when he looked down to check, he discovered Ranaiah’s hands on his chest instead.

  He gasped and blinked several times, feeling as though he had awakened from a dream. He looked at his own hands, which were unscathed.

  The charm, no longer burning unbearably hot, radiated the usual deep-orange glow that pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat. Kaijin lifted his head and examined the brazier that burned before him, but he saw nothing within.

  That felt like a dream. No, a nightmare.

  Ranaiah’s warm embrace from behind soothed him, and her fire-lily scent relaxed him. “Kaijin, can you hear me?”

  “Yes, Ranaiah. I’m okay. Thank you.” He placed his hands over hers.

  She slowly released him. “I sensed very strong activity from within you, as though you were in pain. It took me some effort to get you back.”

  Kaijin turned to face her. The bits he recalled from before entering his deep state of meditation disturbed him, and he wondered how long he would continue to see the images in his dreams and everyday thoughts. He assumed neither Ranaiah nor the other priests had seen what he had in the brazier. The experience was apparently meant for him only. “Thank you,” he said to the priestess. “I thought for sure I was done for.”

  “What happened? Did you find out anything?”

  Kaijin retold his experience as best he could. After he finished, he held his head, overcome by the pain and exhaustion. “I’m going to leave for Ankhram tomorrow,” he said, fighting the urge to lie down and sleep right where he stood. “My friends will be joining me, as well.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Don’t worry. They do not know your secret, nor will they ever.” He glanced over her shoulder at his friends, who stood at the base of the dais. Two attendants stood at the stairs, preventing them from interfering with the ritual. Zarya, who had been standing closest to the attendants, looked at him worriedly, as though she would break through their barrier and rush up the stairs to him.

  Ranaiah smiled, but the expression soon faded. “Thank you, Kaijin. Your discretion means a lot to me. Get some rest now.” She leaned her face closer to his for a moment, her warm breath caressing his lips, but then quickly pulled back and turned away.

  The teasing gesture drew a hint of a smile from Kaijin. With a bowed head, he called for Miele and descended the stairs. The two attendants cleared a path for him to walk past. Zarya stood before him, looking pained. He brushed past her without a word, and avoided the curious expressions of the rest of his friends as he headed for his master’s quarters—a final visit before setting out to Ankhram at first light.

  XIII

  Kaijin and his friends awoke early the following morning and prepared for their trip. The priests equipped their group with enough provisions to last them to their trip to Ostwyn, the port city to the south. Before setting off, they gathered outside the Pyre’s entrance with Ranaiah, Canicus, Brett, and a few other priests who had come out to see them off.

  “May the Flames guide you safely.” With a wave of her hand, Ranaiah summoned a glowing white light that wrapped the group in a blessing of protection, and she continued praying.

  Kaijin, his head bowed, felt his stomach twist at the sound of Ranaiah’s gentle voice. I probably won’t see her again for a long time. He fantasized about kissing her soft, full lips, savoring her sweet taste, and inhaling her euphoric fire-lily scent. His heart beat faster; the warmth of the necklace beneath his robes heating his chest.

  When she had concluded her prayers, he looked back up at her, branding every feature of her face into his mind. He studied the rest of her slender body, which wasn’t full-figured like many women were, but she was still ideally proportioned. She was different from the average woman—like a lone flame flickering in the dark—and he liked it.

  “Many thanks again for your blessings and hospitality, honored priestess,” Zarya said, raising her head.

  Ranaiah smiled at her. “The honor was ours, Priestess of Celestra.” Then she turned to Jarial, whose face was concealed in shadows under the hood of a cloak. “Do be careful, Councilman Glace.”

  “I shall. I appreciate your concern,” Jarial said, voice raspy. He tugged the hood further over his face. “And thank you for this cloak. It will be put to good use.”

  Ranaiah chuckled. “It seems it already has been.”

  Kaijin turned to his friends. “Well, then. Shall we be off?”

  “Before you leave, Kaijin,” Ranaiah said, “I ... want you to have something.” She slipped the gold ring off her finger and placed it in Kaijin’s hand. “Return to me soon,” she whispered, closing his fingers over the ring. Tears welled in her brown eyes.

  Kaijin looked at his hands—their hands. He carefully placed the ring on the fourth digit of his right hand. As he did, he felt soothing energy surge through him, relieving him of minor morning aches and pains, and clearing his mind. Wow, what kind of ring is this? He beamed at Ranaiah.

  Ranaiah didn’t return the smile. Her face was taut with concern.

  Kaijin’s expression turned somber, and he leaned close to say quietly, “If Ignis wills it, then I will see you again very soon.”

  She embraced him gently and pressed her warm cheek against his. His body tingled. She slowly turned her head until her lips were close to his, but instead of kissing him, she brushed her lips across his cheek. “Be safe, Kaijin,” she murmured, drawing back to her formal stance. “I will continue praying for you and your friends.”

  Kaijin heard Nester whistle, and his face went hot. I know ... shouldn’t make a scene. But ... But ... Kaijin looked nervously over his shoulder at his friends. Aidan was busily tending to another back itch and wasn’t paying him any mind. Jarial’s face was concealed under his cloak’s hood, but Kaijin somehow felt his master was still watching him. Kaijin met Zarya’s gaze and noticed a sadness about her that diminished her natural beauty. Her face flushed when she caught his eye, and she turned and followed Omari, who already began to set off down the mountain path. She walked past Aidan, and after helping him with his itch, beckoned him to follow.

  Kaijin turned back to Ranaiah and fought the temptation to kiss her soft lips, wanting to show her that he truly loved her. He felt a brief chill whisk through his robes, and a hint of amusement in his mind from Miele, who flew overhead, screeching. Kaijin slowly began to back away from Ranaiah, feeling as though a piece of him was tearing away with each step.

  Ranaiah’s sadness had waned from her face, replaced with the sternness of determination. She spun and headed for the Pyre’s entrance. The other clerics fell in behind her.

  After the ornate doors closed behind them, Kaijin exhaled.

  “Don’t worry, Kaijin,” Jarial said, patting Kaijin on the shoulder. “You will see her again, I’m sure.”

  Hanging his head, Kaijin spun and walked with Jarial and Nester. “I wish she could’ve come with me.”

  “You know she can’t do that.” Jarial said flatly.

  “Aye! She’s too pretty to be walkin’ around like that.” Nester gave Kaijin a playful nudge in his side. “You did good, by th’ way, mate! She’s quite th’ bird!”

  Kaijin smiled. “What can I say? She’s captured my heart.”

  “Don’t let your ... feelings cloud your judgment, Kaijin,” Jarial cautioned. “Her safety would be endangered if she came with us.”

  “Oh, but Master, Ranaiah is quite strong and can handle herself well enough—perhaps even better than any of us.”

  Jarial huffed. “Surely she’s not more powerful than your master. Anyway, she
is the high priestess of the Pyre, and that is where she belongs. Now, come on, you two. Let’s not fall too far behind the others.”

  Kaijin hastily followed Jarial and Nester down the mountain path, but his thoughts never left Ranaiah and the image of her that burned in his heart.

  “I hope we will not have to wait too long for a passenger ship in Ostwyn,” Zarya said, once everyone was together again. “I have heard rumors that the waiting list can take several weeks.”

  Omari blinked several times. “Weeks? We do not have that kind of time to be idling around a city, waiting for a boat!”

  “Well, there’s nothing we can do, if we have no means of crossing the sea.”

  Nester strode along happily. “Oy! Don’t worry, beautiful! I’ve got it all taken care of. I ’ave an ol’ mate of mine who lives in Ostwyn. If anyone can ’elp us get to Ankhram, ’e can!”

  Omari eyed the brownie suspiciously. “Why do I get the feeling that is a bad idea?”

  “Probably because it’s coming from him,” Jarial said.

  Kaijin, realizing Jarial’s voice was no longer raspy, glanced sidelong at his master. He’d pulled back his hood, revealing a youthful face—the face Kaijin had always remembered. He halted. “Master?”

  Grumbling under his breath, Jarial stopped and turned around. The rest of the group paused as well and did the same.

  “What now, Kaijin?” Jarial asked.

  Kaijin searched for the words. “How did you ... When did you ...”

  Jarial smiled. “It’s magic, boy, and I’m rather stealthy at it. And no, I’m not telling you any more of my secrets. Now, move along.”

  * * *

  Kaijin and his friends traveled uneventfully for three days, only stopping to rest and make camp when needed. On the fourth day, the outline of Ostwyn’s city walls became visible in the distance.

  “Thank Malik we are almost there,” Omari said, hastening his steps. “What I would not give to have a nice hot meal and a bath right about now.”

  Kaijin chuckled. “Me, too.” He looked sidelong at Zarya, who walked in silence. She hadn’t said much throughout the trip, and Kaijin was unsure if he should talk to her about what was bothering her, so he simply let her be.