Order of the Fire Box Set

by P. E. Padilla

  Kate instantly found him contemptible.

  But then, she didn’t have to like her superiors in the chain of command. In fact, until Captain Achard, she hadn’t really liked any of her commanding officers.

  Travada was a soft shadow of an Order soldier with a very large forehead, no doubt magnified by the ruff of grey hair receding with his years. He had the kind of face that made one wonder what they would eat for their next meal rather than listen to what the man said. He was forgettable and painfully normal-looking. The word boring flashed into Kate’s mind.

  “Courtenay,” he said in a nasally voice that was no surprise. He sounded like he looked. “I have heard disturbing news about one of the Black. News that says one of my soldiers engaged in street brawling with others, with Red soldiers. Do you have anything to say about this news?”

  “No sir.”

  “Were you attacked, Courtenay?”

  “No sir.”

  “No? Hmm. If you were not attacked, and you did indeed exchange blows with these other soldiers, then am I to understand that you attacked them unprovoked?”

  “No sir,” she said again.

  The major’s grey eyebrows raised. “No?”

  “The first of them was attacking an innocent bystander, sir. The rest attacked me after I had neutralized the first.”

  “Neutralized? Did you kill someone, Courtenay?”

  “No sir. I meant that I stopped him from attacking either me or the innocent bystander.”

  Aedmund Travada steepled his fingers in front of his face and locked his gaze on Kate. It was not intimidating in any way. If that was what he was aiming for, he had missed the target. By quite a lot.

  “Why don’t we start at the beginning and you tell me exactly what happened,” he said.

  “Yes sir. The Reds were expressing their opinion of the Black. They—”

  “And what was that opinion?” Travada interrupted.

  “They said it was about time the Black were disbanded and Captain Achard—”

  “Lieutenant Achard.”

  Kate wanted to glare at the man, but kept her eyes trained directly in front of her. She would not, though, call Phrixus Achard by anything less than his proper rank. She continued, “—was demoted ‘to a rank more befitting him.’ They commented that he should be cleaning the latrines, and all his minions with him.”

  “I see,” the major said. “Continue.”

  “I found fault with their opinion and stated my disagreement. They crowded around me in a threatening way.”

  “Were you afraid of them, Courtenay?”

  “No sir,” she said honestly. “They are not nearly skilled enough to hurt me, even with twice their number.”

  “Go on.”

  “That was when a Blue came and verbally defended me and the Black. The Reds attempted to assault the Blue because of his viewpoint. I stopped them.”

  “And how,” he said, “exactly did you do that?”

  “I intercepted their strikes and returned them. As I said, they were not very skilled.”

  “And did you seriously injure any of them?”

  Kate swiveled her eyes from the wall to the major’s watery brown eyes. “No sir. I am skilled. I applied only the amount of force necessary to stop their attacks. They are bruised, but otherwise unharmed.”

  Major Travada sighed and put both hands to his eyes, pressing in on them with the heels of his palms. “Courtenay, you have to understand something. The Black is not what it was. The Order is not how it used to be. Times are changing, and the Black is falling out of favor.

  “I know you just joined the group, and for that I am sorry. Perhaps the council should have listened to Field Marshal Sena when he said you should be put into the officer training program. But the Supreme Commander decided to let you enter the Black.

  “The time will come when the Black will be no more. I suggest that you consider your allegiances before that happens. If you cling to pieces of driftwood as you are pulled into a whirlpool, you will only be sucked down with the trash. If you swim to more stable ground, however, you may not only survive, but thrive.

  “I will allow you your little street fight because it hardly seems worth making a fuss over, but think upon what I said. You have the ability to be a fair officer if you would let go of your childish desire to sneak around and go on secret missions. Grow to adulthood and learn to take responsibility, and perhaps we can put you in white, or even gold, someday.”

  Travada stopped talking and looked to Kate for a response.

  She wasn’t sure what he wanted from her. She had to say something, though.

  She settled for “Thank you, sir. I will think upon what you said.”

  “See that you do. Now get out of here, and don’t cause me any more trouble.”

  Kate pounded her fist to her chest in salute, turned on her heels, and marched out of the office with her back straight. As she passed Travada’s secretary, the woman smiled at Kate and gave her a little wave.

  As the newest member of the Black Command left the office of the new leader of the Black, she pondered what had happened. It was yet another case in which a high-level officer seemed to be trying to disband the Black, or at least agreed with the dissolution of the unit.

  It was puzzling. Dante had never told her about the prejudice of the High Command against the Black. Did he know? Or was it that when he was in the Order, the trait had not yet become fashionable?

  She didn’t know, and it bothered her that she seemed to not know about a lot of things lately.

  What to do, what to do?

  As seemed to be her habit lately, by the time Kate emerged from her musings, she was standing in front of the entrance to the secret section of the library. Shrugging her shoulders, she went through the slightly glowing door. She was here; she might as well talk to Molara about what had happened to her that day.

  When Kate stepped into the secret section of the library, she was surprised to find Captain—no, Lieutenant—Achard sitting at one of the tables, with Molara on the other side.

  “Oh,” Kate said, before she could process the situation.

  “Ah, Kate,” Achard said. “Nice to see you. You didn’t take long to get in trouble, I hear.”

  “I…” Kate stammered.

  “That is not an accusation,” he said. “Come, have a seat. Since I can no longer sit in my—in the vacant captain position’s—office, this is as close as I can get to being accessible to the Black.”

  Kate sat as ordered. It barely registered that Molara slid a cup of tea in front of her.

  “Captain—”

  “That’s lieutenant,” Achard said.

  “Lieutenant Achard,” she forced out. “What happened? With you, I mean.”

  “Haven’t you heard? I was incompetent and insubordinate. I put the entire Order at risk with my cavalier attitude and my carelessness.”

  “Yes, I heard the propaganda. But what happened?”

  “Things are…complex right now,” he said. “There are many things that are going on that I don’t understand. Those that I do understand, I don’t have much input on. Not any longer. Command found fault with the way I was running the Black. That’s the simplest way to put it.”

  “Captain,” Kate said, her voice rising.

  “That’s lieut—”

  “Nonsense! You are and always will be Captain Phrixus Achard, Commander of the Black. At least until they promote you. No silly order by some puffed up old man will change that. I want to know exactly what was the determining factor in their demoting you and dismissing you as our commander.” Kate said it all in one breath, panting with the effort.

  Phrixus stared at Kate, lips slightly parted. As the seconds dragged on, they turned up into a small smile. “You are a force to be reckoned with, to be sure. Very well. The final straw was your mission to Hell. Command views it as being ill advised.”

  “Then, in a way, I am to blame for your demotion?” Kate asked.

  “Ab
solutely not. Based on the intel gathered by Peiros, I made a command decision. You happened to volunteer—and I am glad you did, by the way—but the decision was solely mine. I would make it again, even knowing the consequences. That is what it means to be Black.”

  “Good. I’m glad we have that out of the way.” Kate shifted so she was directly in front of him. “You are my commanding officer, regardless of what Upper Command in the Order says. Now, what are we going to do about this mess?”

  Phrixus Achard barked out a laugh, startling Molara so she jumped slightly in her seat. “Oh, Kate, you are just what I needed to stop me from feeling sorry for myself. I do not condone what you just said and will not accept it. I can’t watch you throw away a promising career.”

  “But—” Kate started.

  “—but perhaps we can find a middle ground. Are you open to discuss it?”

  Kate huffed and crossed her arms in front of her breast plate. In a moment, she nodded. “Fine. We can talk about it.”

  “Excellent. Molara, do you have any snacks in your little kitchen? This may take a while.”

  8

  As Phrixus was leaving the library, Peiros came through the doorway. He bowed over his hands toward the lieutenant. “Captain.”

  Phrixus sighed. “Lieutenant. Does no one understand what a demotion entails? I am no longer a captain. I’m a lieutenant.”

  “Pardon me, Captain,” Peiros said. “But I do not agree with the manner in which they took your rank, nor do I agree with the reasons for doing so. To me, you are still the Captain of the Black, though Command seems to disagree, and…you yourself?”

  “Just call me Phrixus.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  Phrixus side-eyed Peiros for a moment, then chuckled. “What kind of idiot am I for ever getting involved with a bunch of stubborn bastards like the Black?” He left the library, shaking his head at the whole thing.

  When Kate met Peiros’s gaze, the man winked at her. She burst out laughing.

  “You are a funny man,” she said. “So, what are you here to study?”

  “The demon books, of course,” the Salornumese said. “I have been working with Molara, trying to decipher them. Fascinating work.”

  “Oh,” Kate said. “I had nearly forgotten about them. Are you having any success in translating them?”

  “Nothing so grand as that,” Molara said. “We have been making a little headway, though. There have always been scholars—many of them Tan but a surprisingly high number of Purple, as well—who tried to translate the runes on the gate itself. We have rubbings, and drawings, and tomes full of notes, but no one has been able to decipher the largest example of runes: the ones actually carved on the gate.

  “The problem, of course, is that not only is it a completely new writing system, unlike anything humans use, but assumedly, the parts of speech the runes correspond to are in the demon tongue, which no human has ever spoken. Until now.”

  The diminutive Purple waved her arms, and her facial expressions changed to signify how excited she was about it. As Molara stopped, she gestured at Peiros. Then she looked at Kate expectantly.

  Kate raised an eyebrow. Suddenly, she realized her part in the lecture. “Until Peiros, with his natural ability to understand demonspeak.”

  “Precisely.” Molara slammed her fist into her open palm.

  Kate felt the excitement building within her. “That’s wonderful. So, what have you learned?”

  Peiros frowned at the ground. Molara busied herself with wiping off an invisible speck of dust on the table in front of her.

  “Anything?” Kate offered.

  “Nothing important,” Molara said with a sigh. “But we’re working on it. I know a grand discovery is just around the corner.”

  “It absolutely is,” Kate agreed. “These things take time. After all, in over eight centuries, no one has learned anything. You two, in just a few weeks, have already learned…?”

  “We do know one symbol and the sound it represents!” Molara stated. “At least, we’re pretty sure we know. We’ll need to learn a few more before we can confirm it.”

  Kate smiled at her friend, then pointed toward Peiros. “Well, there you have it. You two are worth more than all the researchers the Order has ever had. Combined. I wish I could help, but I’m just the dumb sword in this genius cabal.”

  Molara laughed and wrapped up Kate in a hug. “Oh, you are no such thing. Sometimes I think that brain of yours can run rings around ours. At least, in some ways. Anyway, thank you for the vote of confidence. We’ll have something to tell you the next time you ask.”

  “I see.” Kate’s mouth twitched into a wry smile. “Then, how are—”

  “Don’t you dare ask me now,” Molara snapped in mock severity. “Don’t be such a pest.”

  Kate was pleased to see that even Peiros smiled at Kate’s teasing. Mission accomplished.

  “Very well, then,” Kate said. “I will leave you language experts to the translations. There are other things I should probably be about in any case. I’ll see you tomorrow, Molara, and perhaps I’ll see you as well, Peiros.”

  Peiros bowed over his hands as if in prayer. “I would like that, Kate. Good evening to you.”

  Kate bade them goodnight and exited the library. The sky was still a dark blue, not yet the complete black of night, and clear. Stars were making their appearance, the moon already rising, and she stopped for a moment to take in the tapestry above her.

  She sighed. It was so nice to see the familiar flashes of light in the darkness. She had been so accustomed to how things looked in Hell—everything shades of grey and out of focus—she savored how crisp and clear, how truly real, things were in her own world.

  She began moving again, heading back to her barracks, when she heard voices. They weren’t close enough for her to understand what they said, but the tone was unmistakable after witnessing, sometimes firsthand, the haranguing and ridicule of the Blues. Was Wilfred being picked on again?

  She moved closer, following the stream of sound. As she neared, she realized it was two voices, but they didn’t sound like the petulant Reds who normally antagonized the Blues. These voices sounded more refined and capable. Like they were used to orating. Or giving commands.

  “Are you being insubordinate, lieutenant?” one of the voices said. Kate heard the derision, could almost feel the sneer with the last word.

  “Yes,” the other voice said. “Do you balk at our command? Must we prosecute you for not doing your duty?”

  “No. There is no need for that.” This new voice was familiar.

  Kate moved closer slowly so she could see more clearly. As she thought, Captain—no, Lieutenant—Achard was there, standing in a relaxed manner, with two other men, one on either side of him. They both faced him, away from Kate’s position.

  It was almost imperceptible, but Kate saw the glimmer in Achard’s eyes as they moved toward her and the moonlight reflected off them. He gave a small shake of his head, but that was all.

  Kate stepped back, deeper into shadows, and watched.

  “Will you comply with your orders, then, lieutenant?” one of the men said.

  “Though section 29(d) of the Code states that officers may not order another soldier of the Order to perform menial tasks for the officer’s own benefit with none to the Order as a whole, I will comply simply as an act of goodwill,” Achard said.

  The other man sputtered and cursed under his breath, but he did not refute what the former leader of the Black had said.

  “Then do so,” the first man said.

  As they moved closer toward Achard, the dim light illuminated the emblems of rank on the two men’s collars.

  They were both captains.

  That was what this was about. Two Red captains lording it over the newly demoted Achard. Kate found her hand clenching the hilt of her sword, moving to draw it.

  A quick look to Achard saw him shaking his head more vigorously than he had a moment before.

>   “Are you shaking your head?” the louder man said. “Are you defying me?”

  “Of course not, Captain,” Phrixus said. “I was merely attempting to shake loose a bug flying about my head.”

  Kate’s mouth dropped open as Phrixus Achard, one of the most decorated soldiers the Order had ever known, bent to clean the boots of the captain standing in front of him. She stood frozen as he cleaned first one, then the other boot and moved to the second man. As he finished the last boot, the captain who had sputtered produced a sneer and swung his foot to kick Achard.

  Before she knew it, Kate had her sword half drawn and was half a step closer to the men.

  But there was no need. Achard, without any wasted movement and no apparent effort, deflected the kick with his shoulder so it merely looked as if he was shifting position to clean the other boot. The foot went wide.

  Right into the shin of the louder man.

  “What the Hell is the matter with you?” the struck captain yelled at his companion. He drew his sword and faced the one who had kicked him.

  The offender put both arms up. “Whoa, whoa. Just wait a minute. It’s not what it seems like. I lost my balance, is all. This bastard must have pulled on my leg to try to trip me. It was no fault of mine. Calm down now.”

  As Kate stepped back, she realized Achard was no longer there. Both men, one with sword out and one with his arms still in the air, spun in circles, trying to look everywhere at once. The former leader of the Black was simply nowhere to be seen.

  At least not to be seen by the two Reds. A flash of black, barely darker than the shadows around it, swirled out of view past a nearby building.

  “We will never speak of this,” the aggressive man said.

  “Agreed,” the other captain replied.

  Kate slid her sword home in her scabbard, went wide of the two perplexed men, and made her way back to her barracks.

  Once settled into her rack, Kate wondered at the state of things. More and more, it seemed as if the Order was turning on itself.

  No, not on itself so much as turning on the Black. The Black Command, the heart and soul of the Order of the Fire for hundreds of years. How was that possible? It almost seemed like a dream to her. How could rational humans, officers in the Order, act in such a way?