Flameseeker (Book 3)

by R. M. Prioleau

  Kaijin was tended to last. He gave the two servants a nervous smile and held out his hands. The water was room temperature, unlike the bath. After a few moments of washing his hands, he dried them on the offered cloth.

  Amil was staring at him.

  Kaijin gulped and averted his eyes. Have I done something wrong?

  The servants moved away from the table and set down their washing items. Amil held up his goblet. The older servant selected a green wine bottle from the table and poured a drink for him. The boy gestured toward the dishes.

  Amil refused with a shake of his head and a shooing gesture. “So, Omari, have you completed your studies at the Citadel now? Is that why you have returned?”

  Omari looked to his father and sighed, shaking his head solemnly. “No, Father. Though I wish it was the case.” The younger boy approached him, and he quickly pointed out various dishes he wanted, then sat back while the boy spooned portions form each of the selected dishes onto his plate. “There was a murder. My master, Na’val Faulk, was found dead.”

  Amil stopped lifting his goblet when it was halfway to his lips. “What?”

  “And I have reason to believe it was the work of the Beshara.”

  Amil’s gaze hardened, and he lowered his goblet. “What makes you so certain?”

  “Master Glace of the Citadel helped me investigate.” Omari pushed the rice on his plate with his spoon, then he paused. “There was a symbol on the assassin’s dagger that was found lodged in Master Faulk’s body. The symbol of Ben-nyu.”

  “Ben-nyu ...” Amil lifted the goblet again and sipped its contents.

  Omari went on to tell the story to Amil. Kaijin, already aware of events from Jarial, half-listened to the conversation. The servant boy approached him, and following Omari’s lead, Kaijin pointed out his desired dishes—which happened to be all of them.

  “We later found a note that Saris Beshara wrote to his father, Tachus, mentioning the murder,” Omari said. “I do believe Tachus Beshara is trying to see that his son ascends to the Council.”

  “Mmm. Yes. I received a rather cryptic message the other day. Something along the lines of Tachus’s son becoming one of the Nine. I did not believe any of it.” Amil set down his goblet and pushed it aside. “I do not know what Tachus intends to do, but I grow tired of his antics.”

  Omari growled. “I am going to kill the one responsible for Master Faulk’s death.”

  Amil eyed Omari sternly. “Patience. When the time is right, your master will be avenged.”

  Kaijin took a bite of flatbread then stopped, remembering his promise to Ranaiah.

  “Kaijin?” Amil’s voice broke Kaijin from his thoughts. “I assume that you are involved in all this, as well?”

  Kaijin blinked and swallowed the bread. “Uh ... No, sir. That is ...” He glanced over at Omari, who shot him a glare. “I don’t know, sir.”

  Amil lifted an eyebrow. “You don’t know?”

  Kaijin swallowed again a lump that had formed in his throat. “I am looking for someone, a rogue priest named Vargas. He has fallen and betrayed the Ignan clergy, and he almost killed me. I think there is some connection between him and the Beshara. That is all I know.” He didn’t want to mention the note Ranaiah had showed him, and he silently prayed to Ignis that Amil wouldn’t probe any deeper.

  Amil stroked his beard in thought. “Vargas. I know that name from somewhere. He is not of the Beshara family—of this I am certain. But he most likely works for them.”

  “I would rather kill every last one of those Beshara scum,” Omari muttered, then shoveled a spoonful of catfish and rice in his mouth.

  “No,” Amil said quickly. “Though I agree that the murderer must be punished, killing off the Beshara is not the answer. For several generations, our forefathers strove to bring peace between the two families. Now I must do the same. Somehow.”

  Omari sighed. “Why must we continuously endure this needless harassment, Father? They will never want peace. Only chaos.”

  “There is always a way, Omari.”

  Kaijin continued eating his meal in silence, trying to enjoy it as much as he could.

  But his mind kept wandering to Ranaiah, and the thought of her having once been unwillingly involved in the feud made the chickpea soup taste bitter.

  Percival slunk to the table, and he nuzzled Amil’s side. Smiling, Amil rubbed Percival’s furry head. “Oh, Percival, still ever the spry little sneak you are like when I last saw you.”

  Percival raised his head, sniffed Amil’s hand, and squeaked contently.

  “He missed you, as well, Father,” Omari said, and then bit into a morsel of meat from his kebab. He offered the edge of the stick to Percival, and the weasel tugged off a piece of meat with his jaws and held it triumphantly in his mouth. “There. Now leave Father alone. Where are your manners?”

  Percival ducked under the table with his meaty prize.

  Miele swooped down to Kaijin and snatched an apple slice from his plate. She returned to her perch above Kaijin, where she happily feasted on the apple.

  “Miele!” Kaijin scolded. He frowned up at her, but she ignored him and kept eating.

  Omari scowled. “Forgive Kaijin, Father. His manners with his familiar are still lacking.”

  Kaijin glared at Omari. Bastard’s got some nerve!

  “It is fine.” Amil looked to the ceiling and held out his hand. “Come down from there, little one,” he called. “Let me get a good look at you.”

  Miele quickly finished her treat and flew down to land in Amil’s palm.

  Amil grinned and lightly petted her furry head. “You have a beautiful familiar, Kaijin. I can only imagine how you managed to acquire it.”

  Kaijin observed Amil’s handling of Miele in awe. He even sensed deep contentment coming from Miele. “He must be a really powerful mage for you to listen to him,” Kaijin said to her. “Miele sort of acquired me, sir. I’ve had her since I was five.”

  “Ah, very good.” Amil held Miele out to Omari. “Cute, is she not?”

  Miele hissed at Omari as Amil brought her closer to him. She leapt from Amil’s hand and returned to the ceiling.

  Omari curled his lip, and Amil burst with laughter.

  Wow, he’s nothing like the stuck-up leader Omari portrayed him as.

  Amil pointed a thumb over his shoulder toward the bed. “My familiar, Ganga, and I have been inseparable since my youth, as well.”

  Through a small break in the sheer curtains, Kaijin spotted something small coiled atop the bed. He craned his neck to view Amil’s familiar more closely.

  He realized the coiled object was actually a red, yellow, and black-ringed snake. His eyes widened.

  “Ganga is a scarlet coralsnake, Kaijin,” Omari lectured in a haughty tone, not looking up from his meal. “One of the deadliest snakes in the world.”

  Kaijin blinked.

  “Moreover”—Omari lifted his nose up at him—“only the most powerful mages are able to acquire such a dangerous familiar.”

  “Indeed,” Amil said. “But do not worry, Kaijin. She is harmless within these walls.” He rose and went to a storage chest in the rear of the room, which he rummaged through while Kaijin and Omari finished their meals.

  Amil returned to the table, carrying a small black pouch. He set the pouch down in front of Kaijin and returned to his seat. His eyes were narrowed and focused on Kaijin, and from the way Amil’s mustache rose slightly, he was smiling again. “I never imagined that I would be giving this to you, but I am glad that I am. It is rightfully yours, after all.”

  Kaijin glanced at Omari, who looked as curious and intrigued by the pouch as Kaijin was.

  “Well?” Omari prodded. “Are you not going to see what is inside?”

  Kaijin swallowed and ran his fingertips over the pouch’s soft silken material. He felt a hard lump inside. A piece of jewelry? He slowly tugged the drawstring loose and slid his fingers inside. He felt a small chain, which he caught and pulled out.
/>   The chain held a silver locket, which Kaijin put in his palm, letting the chain hang freely from his fingers. He looked up at Amil and furrowed his brow.

  Amil nodded to him. “Open it.”

  Curious of what he’d find inside, he carefully pried open the tiny lock.

  He discovered a delicately-painted portrait inside, of a young woman who looked to be nearly his own age. The woman’s slightly slanted eyes, her long ebony hair, and perfect smile complemented the smooth bronze skin of her angular face. Kaijin’s eyes started to burn with sadness. That ... That looks like—!

  “Let me see, Kaijin.” Omari leaned his head closer to him. He quirked an eyebrow and looked from Kaijin to Amil. “Father, who is this woman?”

  Amil beamed. “That is my elder sister, Elianee. She gave this to me before she left home—left Ankhram. She swore she would never return, because she could not endure our father’s demands, nor the senseless bickering between our family and the Beshara. But she and I had always been close, and she wrote a letter to me once she was settled in Aransiya. She got married. Had her first child.” He indicated Kaijin. “She did not write me any more after that, for whatever reason, but I was still very happy for her.”

  Omari’s jaw dropped.

  Kaijin pressed the locket close to his heart and closed his eyes a moment, envisioning the portrait of his mother. Mother, you were always so beautiful.

  “Kaijin,” Amil continued, “from the moment I first saw you at the doorway, I knew you were my sister’s son. You look very much like her. I am overjoyed to give this momento to you.”

  Kaijin held back his tears and smiled. “Th—Thank you, sir.”

  Amil shook his head and waved his hand dismissively. “No need for formalities. You may call me ‘uncle.’

  “N—Now just one confounded minute,” Omari interjected. “Why have you not told me about any of this before now, Father?”

  Amil shrugged. “I saw no reason to. Besides, you were only a baby when Elianee left. She wanted nothing more to do with the family, and I respected her wishes.”

  Omari, looking horrified, scooted away from Kaijin. “I cannot believe this. I am actually related to him?” he grumbled.

  Kaijin frowned at Omari’s disgruntled tone. The feeling’s mutual.

  “Cousins, to be exact.” Amil turned to Kaijin. “How is your mother? I heard rumors of a tragedy happening several months ago in northern Aransiya, which was where she told me she’d gone to live.”

  Kaijin felt his face go cold, and the beautiful face from the picture was replaced by the memory of her corpse. He clutched the locket and chewed his bottom lip. “She ... She’s dead ...”

  Amil blinked. “What?”

  Kaijin closed his eyes and felt a tear fall down his cheek. He felt too weak to hold them back now. He opened them again, the vision of his uncle a teary blur.

  Amil sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Dearest sister ...” he whispered.

  “My parents and younger brother were taken from me.” Kaijin paused.

  Amil’s mouth hung open slightly. “Brother? So she had another child....” He solemnly lowered his head and sighed.

  Kaijin nodded and went on to tell him about Easthaven’s destruction. “Everything was taken by a power that I’m only beginning to understand. I am plagued with the memory of their deaths.” He stared at Omari. “I suppose I can understand your dismay about being related to me, Omari. I don’t think even I would want to be related to me.”

  Omari stiffened and gave Kaijin a slightly guilty look.

  Amil straightened. “Nonsense, Kaijin. Why do you feel this way? I can sense a great power in you. Are you unable to control your magic? Do you not have a master?”

  Kaijin carefully considered the last question. While Jarial wasn’t really his master anymore like he had once been, the man still had a special place in Kaijin’s heart. Kaijin sighed. “It’s a little complicated. I had a master once but ... things changed.” I outgrew him, he wanted to add, but he knew Omari wouldn’t take too kindly to that remark.

  “Changed? How so?” Amil raised his eyebrows, intrigued.

  Kaijin took a slow, deep breath and withdrew his fiery necklace from within his robe. The charm steadily pulsed in time with his heartbeat. “I am not normal, Uncle. I am what is called a Firebrand of Ignis. However, lately, it has not been Ignis who has been speaking to me. Telling me to destroy, tormenting my mind with riddling words. I cannot explain this power. I do not think any mortal can.”

  Omari leaned in, scrutinizing Kaijin.

  “If it is not Ignis speaking to you, then who?” Amil asked.

  “Someone who once served Ignis but betrayed him. His name is Za’thaak. Ignis banished him from the Realm of Fire to the mortal realm. He made his new ‘home’ in a druidic orb that I inadvertently found. He began speaking to me, posing as the voice of Ignis, and I believed. He persuaded me to take the orb to the Pyre, though I had no idea why ... until recently.”

  Amil’s attention remained fixed on Kaijin, and he slowly stroked his beard. “What happened?”

  “Za’thaak found himself a willing host to do his bidding. He is trying to turn Ignis’s followers away from the real Firelord by posing as Him and having them do questionable things. Vargas, his new sychophant, is a powerful cleric of the Pyre. He almost killed me.”

  Amil’s hand dropped, and he scowled. “What a terrible turn of events.”

  Kaijin nodded. “That is why I must find Vargas before Za’thaak uses him for some other deadly purpose.”

  “And you believe he is somewhere here in Ankhram?”

  “Yes.” Kaijin thought for a moment. “A Dragon named Jovi told me about a strange disturbance not far from here. Something about ‘images in the sands’.”

  “Ah yes. A peculiar phenomenon has happened recently. None of us were able to decipher it, as that area holds divine properties.”

  “Have you no priests here at the Harran?” Kaijin asked.

  Amil shook his head. “Our three priests went on a pilgrimage to the northern province several weeks ago and are not due back for another month.”

  Omari rubbed his chin. “Kaijin, do you think Zarya might be able to decipher it?”

  Kaijin nodded to him. “I was just thinking the same thing. We should ask her.”

  “Wonderful.” Amil clapped his hands together.

  “Uncle, do you think you might be able to locate Vargas with a spell?” Kaijin asked.

  Amil picked up his goblet and held it out to one of the servants. The young man quickly refilled it and went back to standing beside the boy by the exit. Amil swirled his cup while he thought for a moment. “I am certain I can.”

  “Great,” Kaijin said. He wanted to say something more—about speaking to Tachus and about Ranaiah—but held his tongue. I shouldn’t mention it in front of Omari.

  “But we can do all that tomorrow.” Amil downed his drink and got up from his cushions. “It is getting late. Best you both rejoin your friends for a while and then get some rest. We shall begin early tomorrow, after breakfast.”

  “Thank you, Father. I shall see you in the morning, then.” Omari rose, and Percival crawled out from under the table and up him and settled on Omari’s shoulder.

  Kaijin also rose and began following Omari to the door but stopped and turned. “Uncle, may I speak to you about one last matter?”

  Omari spun around. “Kaijin!” he growled. “He dismissed us. No more questions!”

  With a smile, Amil raised his hand, silencing his son. “It is all right, Omari. We may speak for a few more minutes.” He dismissed the servants, as well, and beckoned Kaijin closer.

  Omari sneered. “Very well, Father.” Sulking, he swept out the door.

  Once the doors closed, Kaijin approached Amil and lowered his head.

  “What do you wish to discuss, Kaijin?” Amil asked.

  “I ... uh ...” Kaijin swallowed. He fidgeted and felt the shak’ha’s stare bearing down on him.
“About Tachus. I wish to find a way to speak to him, if possible.”

  Amil raised his eyebrows. “Whatever for?”

  Feeling a lump in his throat, Kaijin swallowed again. “I must speak to him on the matter of ... his sister.”

  “Ranaiah?” Amil tilted his head and thought a moment. “Ah yes, the poor thing. I always felt sorry for her, getting caught up in all of this. She was such a beautiful, sweet girl.”

  And still is, Kaijin wanted to add.

  “Last I heard, she ran away, left the country. Not sure where she is now. But what matter in particular are you speaking of?”

  “Tachus knows where she is, and he has conspired to have her forcibly brought back to Ankhram,” Kaijin said. “I want to try to reason with him, convince him to leave her alone because she is happy where she is.”

  Amil snorted. “Good luck, my boy. Tachus is more stubborn than a camel. Though I am curious. Why have you interest in these affairs?”

  “Because ...” Kaijin took a deep breath, feeling embarrassed and nervous. “I love her.”

  Amil’s eyes widened, and his smile grew. “Truly?”

  Kaijin nodded slowly.

  “Why, this ... Aside from my son’s return, this is the best news I have heard in a long time!”

  He patted Kaijin’s shoulder; Kaijin stiffened, startled by the touch.

  “There is hope after all!”

  Kaijin quirked his eyebrow at the man. “What do you mean?”

  “Do you not see? You, Kaijin Sora—descendant of the Batsuyou bloodline—in love with Ranaiah Beshara. Your union would be the very thing to bring peace between our families.”

  Kaijin’s jaw dropped. Union? “W—Wait a minute, Uncle. It’s not like that. I mean—”

  “Not like what? You said you loved her, did you not?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Then the two of you should marry.”

  “But—”

  “You are correct in that we will need to discuss this with Tachus Beshara. I will arrange for us to set out to Zebi in a few days. And perhaps this will also give us an opening to speak to him concerning Omari and Saris.”

  Kaijin was speechless. He looked down at his feet with confusion, but Amil took Kaijin’s face in his hands and tilted it back up. “You have made me proud, Kaijin. Proud to be your uncle.”