Fire

by Rosie Scott

  “What in the hell were you doing?” It was Silas, yelling at me. It shocked me to hear the elf speak to me like that at all, and I glanced back, seeing that it had taken both him and Theron to pull me off of Cerin.

  Cerin. I found him lying on the ground where he'd been sitting. He was breathing shallowly, a hand on his chest, as if reaching for some type of pain.

  “Let me heal him,” I said in a rush, lurching toward him.

  “Not until you tell us what's going on,” Theron replied, sounding much calmer than Silas.

  “He taught me how to leech, and he wanted me to try it on him, and I went overboard, and I almost killed him.” It was a ramble, words tripping over themselves and merging together. “Please let me heal him.”

  The two men finally let me go, and I collapsed beside Cerin. His eyes were closed, and his long black hair was fanned out around his head from where he'd fallen. For the first time, my eyes picked up on a freckle on his neck, just beneath his jawline. I'm not sure why I was so focused on that. Perhaps it was because it was something new to know about him.

  I put one palm on his forehead, and the other on his stomach, much like he had done earlier for me. “Givara la mana,” I whispered, giving him back some of the energy I'd stolen from him. Over the seconds that followed, I could feel the difference. The sharpness of everything dulled until my normal senses seemed like a handicap, but still I gave.

  Then, Cerin stirred. His silver eyes opened, and immediately latched onto mine. “You are too powerful,” he said, desperately.

  My heart began to ache painfully at hearing that. “I'm sorry, Cerin. I was not myself.”

  “No...” he trailed off, before sitting up, causing my hands to fall away from him. “I meant...your power. It's immense. You leeched everything from me in half the time it would take me, and I had excess.” He looked toward Theron and Silas, as if just noticing them standing there.

  “It was foolish to try this while the rest of us were sleeping,” Theron stated. I assumed he was talking to the necromancer, since I wasn't facing him.

  “It was foolish to teach her this at all,” Silas added bitterly.

  Cerin's eyes widened at the elf. “Kai could have died today. If she had known this spell, she may not have run out of energy at all.”

  “And now she knows it, necromancer, and it will bring us nothing but ill,” Silas spat.

  I breathed carefully through my nostrils, uncomfortable with the hostile air between everyone. I turned, facing Silas, and said, “If you are to blame anyone, Silas, blame me. Cerin cannot teach me something I have no wish to learn.”

  “I will blame who I wish,” Silas replied. I had never seen him this angry. His normally smooth features were creased and red with anger. “You have lost your head, Kai. Let us hope you still have enough sense within you to find it.”

  My nostrils flared with anger, but I said nothing. It was clear Silas and I had completely opposite views on the matter of necromancy, and nothing I could say would change him. I watched my former lover walk back to where Nyx was still sleeping, having not heard any of the commotion. I looked to Theron, who appeared pensive.

  “What say you?” I asked him, the anger in my voice not directed at him, but still prevalent. “Are you disgusted to be among necromancers?”

  Theron met my gaze. “If it weren't for two particular necromancers, I would be dead,” he replied, evenly. “I have no love for bureaucrats or the laws they make up so carelessly. There are clearly many productive uses for the magic.”

  “You aren't just saying what we want to hear?” I prodded.

  “I do not form opinions by coin, but by experience,” he replied.

  I turned my head from him with a nod. “Thank you for your support, Theron. I apologize for waking you.”

  “It is no problem, Kai. But if I may be so bold, perhaps you should wait until the morning to learn any more spells?”

  I chuckled. “No worries. I think we are done for the night.”

  The ranger headed back toward the camp, leaving Cerin and I alone once more. After I could hear no rustling from the camp's direction, I finally spoke.

  “I cannot express how sorry I am, Cerin.”

  He shook his head, dismissing it. “You could not help it. I was prepared for it to be hard for you. I am sorry for underestimating you.”

  I said nothing, my mind on Silas. I couldn't help but feel that even our bond of friendship was on shaky ground.

  “It appears my presence here has caused contention,” Cerin went on, as if he'd read my mind. “And for that, I am also truly sorry.”

  “My decisions are causing contention. Not you,” I replied, my tone low and ashamed. “Silas was in agreement with me on nearly everything when I lived in Sera, when we both lived under Seran law. I am starting to think the two of us are more different than I could have ever imagined.”

  Cerin nodded. Even now, after I'd nearly killed him, he was listening to what I had to say. “Do you regret leaving Sera, then?” He asked me.

  I let my eyes scan over his face, the light from nearby sconces flickering over his handsome features. From this view, the shadows over him were many, cast over his white skin from the sharp angles of his defined face. His black hair brushed softly against his elongated neck, free from the confines of the cloak he normally wore. A ripple of attraction waved through me before I answered him.

  “No.”

  Fourteen

  “Whispermere,” Theron stated, coming to the crest of the path before us, where it opened up to become flatter. “At long last.”

  My heart began pounding in anticipation, as if it hadn't been working hard enough through the uphill climb. The trek had been painfully vertical since we'd taken the path to Whispermere from a split the day before. The constant blizzards from days past had calmed. I wasn't sure what I would see when I reached where Theron stood, but when the peak of a mountain came into view, with an open cavern of sorts tunneling through it, I found I was disappointed.

  “It is a cave,” I said, my voice deflated.

  “No,” Cerin replied, his voice thick with labor as he came up to stand beside me. “The cave is the entrance.”

  The group of us continued forward, approaching the cave with caution. The peak of the mountain stretched into the sky to our left and before us. To our right, the mid-day sun glistened off the fog of the clouds that dotted the skies as far as the eye could see. It was of little wonder why the blizzards had stopped. We had traveled above them. Land was not visible from here. Perhaps it would have been, had the sky been clearer. But no, as far as we were concerned, we were walking on a piece of floating mountain.

  Once we'd come over the crest of the path, the temperature warmed, as if we had somehow broken through the freezing weather to enter the sun's own territory. It was still chilly, but within the direct rays of the sun at this height, the mind was tricked into believing otherwise.

  The temperature cooled again when we entered the shadow of the cave. Once we were inside the rock's embrace, it became obvious that it was more of a tunnel than a cave. I could see straight through it to the other side, where nothing but a rope bridge led from the tunnel to the next mountain peak over. Long ago, during our first few days in the mountains, we'd had to cross many bridges like that. Now, at this height, just the idea terrified me all over again.

  Even before the rope bridge, however, there was a gate. Built into the rock of the tunnel itself, it encompassed the entire opening. It was made out of metal bars, to allow vision through to either side, but it was solid gold. I assumed the gate had been painted, for I knew that gold was far too soft a metal to be trusted as such a structure.

  At the center of this gate, where the two doors of it would open, stood two guards, one on our side of the gate, the other waiting just inside. Both were men dressed similarly to the messenger from Whispermere half of a year ago, and their skin was a golden hue. The men did not look up as we approached, casting their eyes downward to the ro
ck floor beneath their feet. It made me remember that even the messenger avoided eye contact back in Sera. The two guards before us couldn't have known who I was, and even they avoided my eyes. I found that odd.

  The men also did not speak as we came to a stop before them. I finally greeted them first. “Hello,” I began. “I am Kai Sera. My presence was requested by my mother.”

  The guard on our side of the gate nodded. “Yes, Miss Sera. Thank you for coming. You must come in alone. Your friends may wait at the gate.”

  I watched the man, suspicious of his words and unable to intimidate him via eye contact. “My friends will enter with me, or I will turn around and leave the same way I came.”

  The guard stiffened, before he turned to the other from through the gate. I heard them speak through rushed whispering, before the guard closest to Whispermere began to hurry away, across the rope bridge. On the other side, I could see golden structures and the tops of plants, but little else before the other mountain peak rose up across the pass.

  “Forgive us, Miss Sera. We must request permission.”

  “Very well.” I turned toward the others. It seemed I was not the only one taken aback by the workings of this place.

  We waited for quite a number of minutes for the other man to return. All the while, we did not speak, but I let my eyes rest on the next mountain peak over. Somewhere, over there, was the woman who had birthed me. What was she like? Would she be proud of all I had accomplished? I had fantasized over the past weeks of our reunion. Perhaps we would embrace, and she would tell me the story of how we had been forced to part. Perhaps we would have much in common. Maybe I would find that some of my hobbies or interests or mannerisms had come from her, when I would have never otherwise have known. I wondered if she had my hair, or my golden eyes. And what of my father? What would she tell me of him?

  “You may enter.” The guard's words broke me out of my thoughts. I hadn't even noticed that the other guard had come back.

  “Thank you.” The guards before us did not answer, but did begin to push open the heavy gate with just as heavy of a creak. When the gates were open, we walked through, my friends leading the way. I didn't want to risk them closing the gate behind me to separate us, though I hoped they would never do something so shady.

  The rope bridge crossing the gap between the two mountain peaks was also painted gold. I wondered about the obsession with gold here, but was unable to really focus on my questions as I took the first step on the bridge.

  Up this high, the air was pretty still, so the bridge did not move by any means other than those who stepped upon it. Even still, it was frightening to begin the trek over the long bridge, as it trembled beneath our weight. A direct stare downward showed nothing but clouds beneath us, too thick to allow any view of the ground or the mountains below. Perhaps that was for the best. I doubted I wanted to see how far we would fall with one false move.

  I didn't look up at Whispermere until I was back on solid rock. On this mountain, it appeared as if the builders of Whispermere had carved half of the mountain peak itself out of existence, leaving the rock flat as a floor under our feet. The carvers had even left a barrier of rock standing about three feet high along the edges to prevent accidents. Up ahead, the mountain peak had been carved in half, the side facing us vertically flat, leaving the village below in direct view of the sun.

  As for the village, it was entirely out in the open. Tables, chairs, and gardens alike were all in full view of the sun. There were no walls with which to shade or separate them. The village still had its designated areas, but it was mostly due to set up of furniture or hedge bushes that one could tell where one area started and ended.

  I wondered how so much plant life could exist when the village was higher than the clouds that could give them rain. Finally, I saw my answer, in the form of a man who was retrieving water via a pulley on the side of the mountain. That was an immense amount of effort to go through just to live here. It gave me the impression that the people here were hiding from something.

  Speaking of Whispermere's people, they were all the same golden hue. I also noticed that there was a distinct difference between the men and women here. All of the men were in the midst of physical labor, and none of them held their eyes level with the others. The women, however, all were in a state of leisure. Some drank and laughed at cafe tables, or relaxed in the gardens. All of them were capable of eye contact. I tried to find one—just one—man or woman in the opposite position, and I could not.

  From past the village where the other half of the peak rose above us, another tunnel had been carved into the lower rock. Given its relative darkness to the first tunnel we had left behind, I supposed this one did not lead all the way through.

  One of the men hurried over to us, and nodded toward me. I wasn't sure how they could tell which one I was, given they could probably only see our feet.

  “Miss Sera, please follow me. You are hungry from your journey, yes?”

  “Yes,” I admitted, glancing back toward the others. We had been eating nothing but berries and dried meat Theron had prepared earlier in the Seran Forest since ascending the mountain.

  The man led us through the village. The women watched us carefully from all directions, chatting amongst themselves. The scent of flowers hung pleasantly in the air, the lack of winds keeping the scent strong.

  We followed our guide into the man-made cave. Once our eyes adjusted to the darkness, I realized there was much more to the cave than it appeared from the outside. Inside the mountain was carved a mansion of sorts, with rooms and hallways and furniture. Men hustled to and from various rooms with their own objectives. Expensive looking art adorned the walls, and all of the furniture appeared to be hand-made and trimmed in gold. Golden floor lamps lit the rooms, the fire flickering across stone walls.

  We were led down a staircase carved out of stone, into yet another floor of rooms. Ahead was a long table with enough seats to entertain a group four times our size. The tablecloth was, like most other things, white and bordered in gold, and felt to be made of pure silk. Candelabras adorned the table in three places, and arrangements of fresh flowers sat in pots between them.

  “Please, sit,” our guide urged, motioning toward the table. “Do you wish to sit with your servants?”

  “My...servants?” I glanced toward the guide, confused. He simply motioned toward the others. “They are not my servants. They are my friends, and they are to go wherever I do.”

  “Forgive me, Miss Sera. Sometimes the differences between Whispermere and the rest of the world escape me.”

  We sat at the table, and the man left us with promises that a feast was being prepared for us. Nyx sat to my left, with Cerin to my right. Silas and Theron sat across from us. To my right, the rest of the table stretched out, empty.

  “I wonder if your mother will meet us here,” Nyx pondered, breaking the silence when no one else would.

  “I don't know,” I replied. “Whoever runs this place seems to be calling all the shots; hopefully she knows I am even here.”

  “If it is true Whispermere was built for your mother, perhaps she is the one who set this up,” Theron suggested.

  I was uncertain whether I wanted to entertain that possibility. If my mother was the leader here, I wasn't sure that was a good thing. That would mean I had left one royal family just to become entangled with another. By the looks of Whispermere, it was a beautiful place, but I had issues with the way it was run.

  If we hadn't believed them when they'd told us a feast was being prepared, we believed them once it started to be carried out. Ten men, each carrying a tray stuffed with food, filed out of the nearby doorway. My stomach grumbled as my eyes feasted upon the food before it could. Meats, vegetables, fruits, and cheeses were served, prepared exorbitantly with fresh herbs that I was sure did not grow within a reasonable traveling distance from here.

  One of the men left the room, returning with a bottle of wine, which he promptly poured for each of
us. Another set plates and silverware before us, all made of solid gold.

  “Excuse me,” I spoke to the worker nearest me, as he laid Nyx's plate on the table.

  “Yes, Miss Sera?”

  “Will my mother be joining us?”

  “Not for dinner, no. We will take you to her after your meal.”

  I tried not to be too disappointed by that. I was overeager to finally meet her. I had to imagine she felt the same about me. We had come so far and it had taken so much time to get here, that I knew she was probably simply getting prepared. She'd had so little time since we'd first arrived at the gates.

  “How do they get such varieties of food all the way up here?” Theron pondered, examining his forkful of roast beef.

  “I don't care how they do it,” Nyx replied, continuing to stuff her face and gulp down her wine. I knew she wasn't one to drink wine, but she'd been without alcohol since Thornwell, so she was drinking it like fresh water in the desert. “It's delicious.”

  The food was delicious. I sampled a little bit of everything. Pork chops marinated in a maple glaze, cooked with bright green, roasted brussels sprouts. Some type of grilled fish in lemon, spruced up with bright green herbs. Roasted asparagus with a sweet balsamic vinegar glaze. Pies made with berries I'd never seen before, juices of various colors spilling out onto the plate.

  We ate until we were gluttonous embarrassments, and even when we were finished, the table was plentiful with food. Nyx and I leaned back in our chairs, fatigued with eating. My Alderi friend glanced past me to Cerin, whose wine glass was still full.

  “You going to drink that?” She asked.

  “No, go ahead,” he replied, passing it to her.

  “Thanks, bud.” Nyx downed the drink within a breath. When she still looked thirsty, I offered her the rest of mine, since I'd only drank half. She took it gratefully.