Risen (The Firebird Trilogy Book 2)

by Stephanie Harbon

  I glanced at the crowd and was suddenly reminded of the Winter Festival. Many faces looked nervous, some downright scared, but the majority had a peculiar interest in their eyes; a morbid curiosity.

  I took a deep breath and stepped over to the Elder. Fine. If she was going to play dirty then so be it. If the entire city of Forenna wanted to be scared of me then that was their problem. It was beyond me.

  “Ruby shall sing an old spell of sedation, used by the Sirens for thousands of years to manipulate a person’s consciousness. A song, I believe Ruby knows well.” She glanced at me with that same bitter smile. I smiled back with my teeth clenched; well aware that she was surreptitiously reminding the audience about my little mishap in Ephizon.

  “Our candidates,” she gestured towards the others, now standing in a nervous triangle. “Will simply have to block Ruby’s call and try to remain awake. The last person standing will be in the final Trial against Ruby.”

  She shoved me into the centre of the triangle of people, all of which looking at me with glossy anxious eyes. The High Elder dug her claw-like nails into the flesh of my side. She leaned in closer and a shiver tumbled down my spine as she whispered. “Try not to kill them, Ruby.”

  I gritted my teeth and ignored her biting comment.

  She moved in front of me, loudly warning the crowd to cover their ears, before gesturing for me to begin and stepping out of the way.

  I took a deep breath and looked at the candidates around me. I said in a low, barely audible voice so I knew only they could hear me. “I won’t hurt you. You’ll just fall asleep.” I glanced at them pleadingly but they all just stared in frightened disbelief. I sighed and pushed my hands together. “Please kneel down. I don’t want you breaking anything when you fall.”

  When they’d all done what I’d asked I began.

  I began as I always did, starting slowly with a quiet musical caress, then bringing my voice up to its true potential; drawing the sounds in the direction of the three silent people surrounding me. I didn’t focus on one person in particular, but let my voice ring. After a moment I noticed a couple of the candidate’s eyes glaze over and I knew it was only a matter of time.

  It was harder with these people of course. They’d obviously been trained from a young age how to protect their minds; but it was still barely seconds before the first candidate –the girl- abruptly collapsed forwards, her eyes closed and her mouth hanging open. It was between Louree and Ryan.

  I stared at Louree, knowing I really didn’t want to be in the final trial with him, but I was struggling to get a firm grip on him. I felt confused by this. It’d never before taken this long to put someone to sleep. Was it me? I didn’t think it was them. No it was me, I realised.

  My voice definitely wasn’t as strong.

  A strange fear suddenly paralysed me and for a moment I lost my concentration and couldn’t continue. After a slight hesitation I started again, this time my voice booming out with a renewed power. That was better. I knew my voice had strengthened again. I guessed it was only a matter of seconds before someone would fall. Please be Louree. Please be Louree.

  Suddenly Ryan slid forwards, his body folding like an old shirt as he collapsed onto the platform. Louree glanced at me triumphantly as I stopped.

  Damn.

  Chapter Twenty

  As Louree staggered upright, we were both gasping. Ryan and Selena were now slowly waking up, their expressions transforming from sleepily confused to severely disappointed. After a brief but appreciative dismissal from the High Elder, they slouched uneasily off the Platform and disappeared into the crowd; followed instantly by consoling relatives.

  “Well,” the Elder began, smiling tightly. “I think we might as well finish this now.” Louree and I exchanges glances. We were both blatantly exhausted but were too stubbornly determined to complain otherwise. We returned our gazes to the Elder with a confirmatory nod and she clapped her hands together, exclaiming: “Good! Let’s begin the Final Trial.”

  To the crowd she proclaimed, “The Final Task I have set our two remaining candidates will be the hardest yet. During this task Ruby and Louree will take the Caylic fire they recovered from the Lava Sprays and break the tubes into this bowl; letting the fire grow.”

  She walked to the front of the stage and gestured at the elaborate setup already marked there.

  A cracked stone bowl was placed at its heart, from which spurted two undeviating lines made by shallow incisions in the rock floor and filled with a strange gold dust. These dusty paths travelled in opposite directions; leading to circles drawn at both ends of the stage an equal distance apart. As I examined closer I noticed two more circles etched into the rock; no larger than a jewellery bangle and barely a foot before the larger, glittering circle.

  “You will both pick one of the large circles,” the Elder continued, “And must remain in that circle at all times. If you step out of the circle you automatically forfeit the trial and will lose. Once the Caylic fire rises it will touch the sparking dust and run along the line towards each of you. Your job is to stop this from happening. The loser is the first touched by the fire. If the fire reaches the first, smaller circle before you -either pushed there by your opponent or unable to be stopped by you- you must surrender and let the flames take you. You must accept your fate. If you move from your circle then you will bring shame to your name.”

  So this was it then. It was me or Louree. One winner. One loser. I glanced at Louree and his face was a mask of hard determination, the face of a Swartette who’d trained to manipulate fire and strengthen his mind since infancy, and I knew immediately that he’d never surrender.

  I swallowed nervously. It looked like I was going to burn to death again.

  I didn’t have much time to think about how terrified I was; to note the tears falling consecutively from my eyes or the ferocious shaking of my hands; the fact that I shivered uncontrollably, despite the heat from a nearby bonfire warmly radiating to my skin. I was already being guided over to my circle. As I tentatively placed my first foot into the centre of it, the dust coating the area scattered upwards, lingering in the air momentarily before drifting and clinging onto my shoes and clothes. As I stepped my other foot in the circle I took a small comfort in knowing that at least I would die quickly.

  Parallel to me Louree was already in position, yanking his tube of Caylic fire out of his pocket and grasping it securely in his fist. I grappled for mine, still tied around my neck, and clumsily fumbled with the knot I’d tied it with. The Elder was already saying something and I quickly paid attention. She was asking us to throw our tubes on the count of three.

  God I wasn’t prepared for this. I started to panic as she commenced counting. My mind was a blur of nonsensical and rather unimportant –in the grand scheme of things- questions. That was a really small bowl wasn’t it? What if I missed the bowl? I was a terrible throw.

  Then, just in the nick of time, as the High Elder’s mouth was beginning to utter the number three, I remembered an important piece of advice from Jayson. Actually sparking the flame is the most difficult thing to do. Once you’ve done that you’ll find it relatively easy to manipulate.

  I’m a Swartette, I thought stubbornly, with purer blood than Louree, I shouldn’t write myself off yet. He might have had the training; but I should have a better natural affinity.

  I was so busy musing this over that the noise of Louree’s glass smashing made me jump. Oh crap. Wake up Ruby.

  Instinctively I threw my own glass tube and miraculously my aim was true. Instantly it shattered, connecting with Louree’s already-expanding fire in an explosion of golden embers that lit the stage; rising rapidly with the momentum from the powerful energy of both tubes. The fire grew astonishingly large within milliseconds and the incredible heat emitting from it already seemed to be burning me. Within moments it doubled my height -an ostensibly untameable mass of destruction- and my heart stopped.

  In my overwhelming panic I tried to cast my mind b
ack to the first instructions I’d received about fire. It was while Jayson was training me, when he’d initially illustrated the basics of controlling fire.

  He had explained that fire is a constantly reforming substance, which meant it needed to be in continuous motion to be kept alive. To control this, while still letting it live, is a difficult and fine balance to get right. However if you focus on maintaining the fire rather than trying to rapidly transform it, you are more likely to manipulate it. You need to attach yourself to it, physically and mentally, and pull it into a more controlled shape. The easiest way to do this is by spinning the flames into a circle. Only when it’s a steady size and shape should you experiment with moving it.

  Thinking this, I focused on the definitely-uncontrolled flaming tendrils before me. While simultaneously trying to ignore whatever Louree was doing on the other side of the blaze, I concentrated on trying to calm my side of the flames. I raised my hands before it, feeling its energy pound like a heartbeat, and attempted to push the engulfing mass into a more concentrated shape.

  My line of sparking dust had already caught; it was travelling closer.

  Determined to ignore this I continued my work on the main body of the fire, spinning it into a more circular shape. Apparently on the other side Louree was doing the same thing. Almost working together we eventually calmed the unyielding, transformative mass into a more manageable state.

  Carefully persevering with as much speed as I felt confident with, I attempted to push the fire back across the sparking dust towards the bowl; away from me. I glanced up as fire suddenly exploded out across my path. Louree had pushed it towards me with a powerful blow I hadn’t anticipated.

  Firelight spilled everywhere. I struggled to remain focused but this distraction had surprised me and the fire was rapidly gnawing its way closer. Closing my eyes I concentrated all my thoughts on the Caylic fire, slowly forcing it back. It was strong; but I was stronger.

  Opening my eyes again, I fiercely dismissed my surroundings and fixated solely on nudging the heaving mass to the centre.

  Louree relentlessly attacked me with an admirable perseverance, rather than trying to maintain his side of the flames. His half was growing again, so I took this opportunity to try and shove some of the higher, more powerful flames that had multiplied during his lapse of control, over to him.

  The top flames spilled over the fire’s main body like a wave, crashing onto the floor near Louree and instantly catching alight the sparking dust. Startled, Louree tried to drive the fire back. I took this moment to make sure the fire wasn’t spreading any closer in my direction. Within a couple of seconds I was in control, with no embers on my line of dust at all.

  My relief was short lived. I could feel a force pressing at the base of my skull, a horrible digging feeling that was gradually intensifying. It took me a moment to comprehend. The pain was a result of the force it took to hold the Caylic fire back when it wanted to spread and grow. The powerful fire was also fighting against me; trying to break the chains I had it shackled with.

  I prodded the fire towards Louree’s line with my mind, testing his defences, searching for a loose link. His mind was set, seemingly impenetrable and unyielding. He’d gained control. I felt him forcing the flames back and the embers near me suddenly sparked; deforming my carefully formulated shape for a moment. This wasn’t good. I concentrated my whole mind on my side of the fire and realised that Louree was a hundred times better at this than me. The only way I could win was if he slipped up.

  I decided in that instant to not attempt to fight Louree; not to try and advance my flames forward. The pain in my head would overwhelm and exhaust me, so instead I would focus on holding my ground. That way, hopefully, Louree would wear himself out fighting and eventually get messy, then I’d attack in his weakened state.

  Preparing myself for a long, anguishing wait, I stubbornly set my mind.

  Louree was like a stormy tide, constantly battering the fire towards me with huge indomitable waves. I wasn’t aware of time as my eyes closed and the outward world became obsolete. I focused on the fire before me and nothing else mattered. I didn’t need to see, I felt every curve a flame made, every minute wisp it danced into.

  The opportunity to attack never rose, not for what seemed like decades.

  I felt nothing except the energy before me and I heard nothing but its melodic humming. Louree never surrendered me anything except the superfluous headache tearing at my brain. Again and again he bashed the flames against me, trying force it closer unsuccessfully. Each blow stabbed me, thumping my head like an impatient knocker striking a wooden door.

  It felt like hours before I felt the strength of the attacks diminish slightly. I waited and waited as the blows frequently hit me, getting progressively more violent and subsequently weaker. By this point my mind was in agony, I knew when I opened my eyes the light would cut straight through me.

  Then my opportunity came.

  There was a moment between attacks when I felt Louree pause, as if trying to rearrange his thoughts; maybe to change his tactics. I felt his defences lift a fraction. In that fragment of a second I sprung. Gathering all my power, I threw it at him like an avenging tsunami. Louree’s astonishment was blatant as immediately the flames shot down his line of sparking dust, tracing the carved pattern towards him.

  Without giving him chance to recover I battered him again with so much force that the fire crackled another few feet nearer. I repeated this, each time preventing his recovery with equal ferociousness; edging the flames closer step by step. As it got nearer I could feel Louree’s exhaustion dominate his actions. His attempts at defending himself were feeble and insignificant.

  With one last, painful shove I knew the fire had passed his first circle.

  Somehow, I’d won.

  I knew that the flames would continue towards him on their own now, so I stopped pushing, instead I just calmed the fire in the centre until it shrank considerably; so much so that I could see Louree and he could see me.

  I could see the remorse and fear in his expression as he knelt down in his circle, awaiting his fate as the flames came closer. I stared disbelievingly for a moment before it dawned on me. He was going to die now.

  No. This wasn’t right. I couldn’t let this happen.

  He would have let me die. I knew that for certain. But still, did that warrant me watching him, allowing him to burn to death? I knew from experience such a death was hideous and undignified; not to mention agonising. Could I just stand here and do nothing? No. I knew I couldn’t. He just needed to step out of the circle, subsequently forfeiting but saving his life.

  “Step out of the circle!” I shouted at him. “Just forfeit! Is it really worth your life?”

  He glanced up at me and despite the cracking fire I heard him whisper: “It’s not my life I value, it’s my honour.”

  “Screw honour!” I screamed passionately. “You can’t die for this!”

  He wasn’t going to move, I realised in horrified astonishment. He was too proud. The flames were barely a foot from him. Could I really let him die? What could I do though? A flash of memory struck across my vision; the feeling of flames licking my skin with deadly acidic saliva, dissolving my flesh in excruciation. Louree had already been through that; surely the image was plaguing his vision also?

  The flames edged closer still. He had seconds.

  Around the stage the atmosphere was intensely, almost morosely silent. The only sound was the fire as it spat and whipped. Everyone was waiting. Louree was waiting to die. I was waiting to live. They were waiting for the finale. Though my legs seemed paralyzed on the spot my neck shot upwards as a determined sense of justice landed onto my shoulders.

  The flames were nearly upon him. I would have to move fast.

  I sprung thoughtlessly, sprinting across the stage as the fire raced me towards our shared destination. The heat was ridiculous as the flames roared angrily. The fire was catching on the perimeter of Louree’s dusted ci
rcle.

  I leapt at him as he glanced up in astonishment. In barely a second I was upon him and we were both flying across the stage from the impact. I landed abruptly, spinning on my side and heaving gulps of air. Parallel to me Louree’s body had fallen awkwardly, and he was struggling to get up on what looked like a broken arm.

  Despite this, he looked over to the blazing Caylic fire, now expanding impossibly high where he had previously been stood. He glanced back to me with a surprised respect and appreciation. Our eyes connected and his features expressed all the thanks his words couldn’t articulate.

  The crowd was no longer silent; it roared with applause.

  So I’d lost anyway, I thought miserably as I scrambled to get upright. Perhaps this was why the High Elder had chosen this task. I guess she’d imagined Louree would beat me and I’d die or run away.

  Still at least I had done the honourable thing.

  I was still breathing heavily as I gazed at the crowd before me, their faces illuminated with happiness or excitement. Me, well I was truly screwed now. I might have saved Louree, but fundamentally I’d secured my own premature death. And inevitably Kieran’s as well.

  The High Elder seemed to appear as if from nowhere and calmed the raging fire before us, compressing it back into the small space of the bowl. Suddenly I felt very cold and shivered.

  “This test,” she shouted suddenly, a smile erupting across her face. “Was ultimately a test of character, and with this in mind I have chosen my winner. Despite the fact that Ruby prevented the Caylic Fire from reaching her, she also broke the rules by saving Louree from his fate. She also left her circle first. In the Council we need someone capable of making tough decisions without hesitation, and by following the rules of our High Council. We need someone who is noble and passionate enough to let themselves or others die for the course. Therefore, it is Louree, who accepted his fate to die for such a worthy course, who is the right choice for the job.”