Calling On Fire (Book 1)

by Stephanie Beavers

  Esset nodded seriously at the request. He didn’t like Toman not having the gloves, but he had a point. Then again… “Why don’t you just animate some stuff to keep watch? Y’know, if someone besides me, the maid, or Lady Ateala comes up to you when you’re sleeping, they’ll warn and defend you. It’s totally doable!” Esset objected. “Carrying your gloves around for you is making me paranoid, seriously.”

  “Jonathan.” Toman deliberately addressed him by his first name. Esset scowled.

  “I get it, Jonathan. Trust me, this brush with death scared me too. You want me to have the gloves back as a sign that I’m better now. But I’m not better now. The odds that I will suddenly die from the poison after surviving it for this long are pretty low, but there are still odds for it, however small. I’m not better yet. I’m getting there, but I’m not there yet. Just…be patient. Please?” Toman’s brown eyes were intense, and he used that intensity to lock Esset in place and keep him from trying to convince himself that the situation was anything other than what it was. The situation wasn’t all bad, but believing it was all good could be dangerous too, and Toman didn’t want to take that chance. There were too many other chances as it was.

  “Yeah, I’ll keep them for you a while longer,” Esset said, looking away when Toman was done.

  “And Jonathan?” Toman prompted, getting Esset to meet his eyes again. It was a lighter expression on the animator’s face this time. Esset looked at him, already prepared to accept whatever he would say.

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you.” Toman was the one to look down this time. Esset blinked for a moment, and had Toman still been looking at him, he would have seen the grin split his face.

  “Brightfire, but that was unnecessary,” Esset scoffed, prodding Toman’s pride. Toman looked up, a trace of surprise on his face, but he grinned barely a moment later too.

  “Psh, there’s no winning with you, is there?” Toman challenged him. “I don’t thank you, and you call me ungrateful; I thank you and you call it superfluous! Honestly!” Esset turned his nose up, pretending to be snobby.

  “Etiquette is a far more complex art than that!” he mock-sneered. “One would think you’d been raised in a barn, not in the esteemed household of the Esset family!”

  “I grew up in a castle, thank you very much!” Toman retorted, mock-indignant. “A castle rightfully inherited and with a long legacy of greatness! My etiquette is unimpeachable!”

  Toman and Esset stared at each other for a long moment, then burst out laughing. Esset collapsed in the chair and was holding his sides, he was laughing so hard; Toman wasn’t faring much better. It was a while before they got a hold on themselves.

  “Well, I’m going to leave you to your beauty sleep, for all the good that will do, ugly-mug,” Esset said, getting up to leave.

  “Well, at least I never have to worry about seeing a face like yours in my mirror, troll-face!” Toman called the parting shot as Esset walked out the door. Esset very maturely stuck his tongue out at his brother before closing the door behind him.

  Esset now habitually helped out with housework and running errands. He was on his way out to deliver a prescription to the old lady on the edge of town when Lady Ateala caught up with him on the way out.

  “Esset, wait up!” she called, trying to tie the ribbon from her bonnet under the chin as she hurried over.

  “Your brother is sleeping like a rock, so he should be fine in Melanie’s care until we get back. And if he tries to get out of bed again before my say-so, she can sit on him,” Lady Ateala said primly as she caught up to him. Esset had to grin—yes, he could see the maid’s rotund derrière providing ample threat to stay abed.

  “And why are we both out at the same time?” he asked lightly, curious to know the answer. He thoroughly enjoyed Ateala’s company and hoped maybe their paths would take them the same way for a while.

  “Well, I found out just this morning that there’s an herb I need that just began blooming. And since it’s most potent at this time, I need to pick it now,” she said coyly. She had a basket with her, and she held it with both hands, swinging in front of her. With her hair in a neat braid down her back, she looked perfectly prepared for a gentle herb-picking excursion.

  “And, well, it’s growing just past your little errand,” the lady finished, smiling sweetly. “Might we accompany one another?”

  “We might,” Esset replied with a cheerful air. He extended his arm to her gallantly and she took it like the noble lady she was. She gave a spontaneous giggle, no doubt prompted by the loveliness of the day. The sun could not have shone more cheerfully, and birds chirped happily in the trees. People greeted them as they walked down the street. They chatted happily about little things: the weather and a few of the lady’s most recent patients. Almost before they knew it, they had delivered the prescription and they were walking along the little path on the outskirts of town to where the herb the healer wanted grew.

  “I’m sorry to take you away from your brother for so long,” Lady Ateala apologized out of the blue as they headed down the path.

  “Not at all, my lady,” Esset replied smoothly, although he was a bit surprised by her unexpected words.

  “Hm, m’lady,” she echoed, almost wistfully.

  “What was that?” Esset asked, not sure he’d heard her right.

  “Oh, I was just thinking…occasionally it strikes me how different, how much better, my life is, now that I live here and not with my family. At home it was never ‘Lady Ateala.’ It was ‘Silly Ateala,’ or ‘Foolish Ateala,’ or ‘Simple Ateala,’” the lady healer explained.

  “Simple?” Esset repeated, astonished. “I find it very difficult to believe anyone could find you simple. It’s not every day that I get to converse with someone as clever as you are, lady.”

  “Thank you for that, I appreciate it,” Lady Ateala responded sincerely, looking a bit touched. She continued more sadly, recalling an unpleasant memory. “But back home I was not what my parents wanted me to be. I guess…since I didn’t do the things they wanted me to do, or know the things they wanted me to know, that meant I was simple. I always tried to tell myself I was smart, but when everyone else says differently, it becomes rather difficult to believe.”

  “Well, clever Lady Ateala, I will never drop the ‘lady’ on you, and I will remind you whenever I can of how clever you are,” Esset said, his smile a bit mischievous. “Don’t ever doubt how clever you are. You saved my brother’s life, and just look at all the people that you help every day. A simple person could not do the same job, that is for certain.”

  Lady Ateala smiled again.

  “Thank you,” she repeated. “It’s funny—sometimes you just need to hear the words.”

  “Any time,” Esset replied, pausing to give her a little bow. She laughed, charmed.

  “Oh, there it is!” the lady healer suddenly exclaimed, spotting her herb ahead and rushing over.

  “Okay, now we just need this bit here.” She pointed at the leaves near the base. Esset partially missed her explanation of the herb’s various properties and uses, so caught up was he in how she lit up when she talked. He didn’t have a particular interest in medicine or herbs, but she made it interesting. They lingered as long as they could, gathering herbs, before returning to the house.

  The next day, Toman wanted his gloves back.

  “Really?” Esset looked at Toman, surprised. It had only been two days since their last conversation, after all.

  “What I said before still stands, but…well, you had a point too, and not having them drives me nuts too. So give ‘em here,” Toman replied. He was sitting on the side of the bed, having just tried a little walk around the room. He still felt bone-deep weary, but it was doable, and he knew he needed to build his strength back up.

  Esset happily dug into his side bag; he always had the gloves with him. He immediately passed them over, and Toman looked relieved too when he’d returned them to their rightful place over his hands. For
fun, Toman animated his belt to zip off the dresser where it had lain quiet while he’d been ill. It wound up Toman’s leg and settled back around his waist over the simple shirt and trews he’d been clad in while in Lady Ateala’s home.

  “Much better,” Toman said happily, mostly referring to the gloves. He held his hands up and wiggled his fingers before dropping his hands back to his lap again. He glanced at Esset and smirked, spotting his relief.

  “You’re welcome,” he quipped glibly. Esset smirked back.

  “You’re welcome,” he retorted. They grinned at each other, but Esset could see that Toman was starting to droop a little bit. Taking the unspoken cue, the summoner got to his feet.

  “Get some rest, Toman. We both might be sick of waiting and resting, but that’s how you’re going to get better, and the sooner you get better, the happier the Nadra will be,” Esset said, shifting his side bag back once he was standing.

  “Yeah, I know. And I know this has to be even more frustrating for you,” Toman said, scooting further onto the bed so he could lie down and pull the covers over his cold feet.

  “Hey, what’re big brothers for but to look out for their littler ones?” Esset joked. It was a running joke with the Essets that Toman always seemed like the older brother, looking out for his younger, nerdier brother, so when the roles were reversed, they usually went out of their way to comment on it.

  “Yeah right, ya pipsqueak,” Toman growled, but Esset had already slipped out the door before he could finish the insult.

  Later that day, Toman and Esset were playing cards in Toman’s room. They’d borrowed a deck of cards and set up on Toman’s blankets, since the animator was beginning to go stir-crazy with inactivity. He enjoyed reading occasionally, but it wasn’t his favorite pastime either, so Esset had taken pity on him.

  “I swear, you’re cheating,” Toman accused Esset, looking at his once again abominable hand. “You have to be.”

  “Oh come on, Toman. Of the two of us, it’s far easier for you to cheat, and you know I have a lousy poker face. You and I both know I’m not cheating,” Esset replied, playing another card. Toman scowled at the patterned piece.

  “Yeah, whatever,” he grumbled. “I’m just not feeling well today. More so than usual. That must be why I’m doing so bad.” He threw down his own card with a bit of ill temper, and Esset didn’t argue with him.

  “Esset?” Lady Ateala’s musical voice came questioningly from the doorway.

  “Ah, there you are. Hello, Toman. Do you mind if I steal away your brother for a bit?” the lady asked, stepping into the room when both looked up to greet her and see what she needed.

  “Bah, go ahead. I keep losing anyways,” Toman said, throwing down the rest of his hand. Esset winced when he saw his brother’s cards—he hadn’t lied.

  “What can I do for you?” Esset asked, tactfully placing his own cards face down.

  “I was hoping you could deliver a prescription,” Lady Ateala replied, her demeanor a bit apologetic. “It’s for Granny Ida. It’s the tea she needs—she’s out again already, and she can’t sleep without it. She told me yesterday she only had a day’s worth left, and she’d send her grandson by to pick it up for her today. But her grandson isn’t very reliable… Something must have happened, or he forgot, so Ida doesn’t have her tea. I just want to make sure she gets it.”

  “Of course,” Esset agreed readily, getting to his feet. Toman glanced at his brother, then snuck his hand across the bed to peek at Esset’s hand. He scowled when he saw it, then stuffed all the cards together and started shuffling them.

  “You’ll be okay without me?” Esset asked Toman.

  “Oh yeah, ’cause losing at cards was helping so much…” he grumbled. Esset chose to give him the benefit of the unwell and not take offense.

  “See you later then,” Esset said instead, as if he had been given a more cordial response.

  “Thank you, Esset,” Lady Ateala thanked him as she stepped out of the way to let him out of the room. Esset just gave her a small smile and nod of acknowledgment—it was small enough payment for what she’d done for Toman.

  “Well, I’m no good at cards, but do you want to play a game? I have other things I need to do, but they can wait a few minutes, and I could use a brief break,” the lady suggested once Esset was out the door.

  “I’d like that,” Toman replied, cheering up slightly. He’d seen the eyes Esset had been making at her, but he wouldn’t say no to a card game with the pretty healer.

  “Okay then, shuffle those cards and deal me in.” Swinging the door shut behind her, Lady Ateala headed over to the bed and took Esset’s seat. They chatted a bit as Toman shuffled, dealt, and they played the hand.

  “Now then, you’ve been having a rough day, I see,” the lady healer said as they finished the hand—Toman had won despite his bad luck, so either Lady Ateala was being particularly nice or she really was that bad at cards.

  “Yeah, I haven’t been feeling so great,” Toman admitted.

  “Hm…” Lady Ateala said. “Why don’t you lie down flat? I’ll take a look at you.” Toman obliged, shifting the pillows around so that he could stretch out flat atop the covers of the bed. Lady Ateala went to his side and gently pressed her fingers against his neck to measure his pulse.

  “In what way haven’t you been feeling well?” she asked, moving her hand to his forehead to check his temperature.

  “Just…kind of a general unwellness,” Toman responded. “Like I almost feel nauseous, almost have a headache…kind of achy all over, actually.”

  “When did this start?” the lady asked.

  “I felt like this when I woke up this morning. It gets better and worse in waves.”

  “Hm… this could be part of the venom’s work, or it could be the anti-venom. It’s tough to say. It might be part of the natural process of getting better, or it could be a symptom of something else. I don’t want you to worry, just to be aware,” Lady Ateala explained as she looked him over.

  “All right, now I want you to breathe evenly and try to relax. I want to feel your resting pulse, so just calm yourself. I don’t want you to fall asleep, but I need you totally relaxed.” Her tone was smooth and soothing, almost hypnotic, as he closed his eyes and followed her instructions.

  “Just lie still,” Lady Ateala murmured. Toman felt her fingers on the inside of his arm, opposite his elbow. There was a gentle pressure for a moment, then again on the same spot on his other arm. As he laid still and tried to slow his heartbeat through relaxation, he felt her fingers on his neck again, on the left, then on the right side. Then he had a sudden itch on his nose and he reflexively went to move his hand to scratch it. A cold shock ran through him when his arm didn’t respond. His eyes snapped open and he tried to jerk, to move his body, any part of his body, but he was a stranger trapped in his own physical form, a mere passenger instead of an agent of his own movements.

  Instinctively, he reached for his magic, and his thoughts—and thus instincts—reached for Esset first. At the same time, his open eyes now saw Lady Ateala over him, but he couldn’t comprehend her smile. He couldn’t see her hands, but her fingers had taken hold of the fingers of his gloves.

  Less than a second later, before he could try to defend himself with magic, she easily slipped both gloves from his hands. His magic, his only defense, was gone, and someone had his gloves. His thoughts scrambled madly as he tried to comprehend what was happening.

  Esset had made good time getting the tea to the old lady, but once there, he was loathe to hurry back to the vague oppression of Toman’s temper. The day was pleasant, so he meandered over to the town fountain. He greeted many of the villagers as he passed—thanks to Lady Ateala’s errands, he knew many of them now, and his dramatic entrance was a distant memory.

  Esset was thinking about how peaceful it was when every stitch of clothing he was wearing suddenly jerked. Esset staggered a step and then braced himself, thinking, “What in the name of Bright Hyrishal was th
at?”

  “You know, when I started my little project with the Reshkin and the Nadra, I never dreamed that it would deliver me the animator,” Lady Ateala crooned. She stood over Toman, looking at him with a somewhat dreamy gaze. The helpless young man lay rigid, screaming inside and fighting fiercely but futilely in spirit. He reeled from being cut off from every bit of physical and magical control he knew, so it was taking longer for the lady’s words to sink in. They still didn’t entirely make sense, even when he processed the words themselves. Toman froze internally, but the pieces began to fall into place with the name she spoke next.

  “Lord Moloch… he will be so pleased,” she purred, smiling maliciously. “He was pleased enough just hearing that I had you. I asked him if he wanted to have you personally, but he said I could have you if I wanted. It was so generous of him. But of course he wants your little gloves, so I had to wait until you had them again before making my move.” She sat down beside him and began walking two fingers up his throat and chin to tweak his nose. “You were very careful with them…but not careful enough. You were so very trusting.” Her smile was supremely superior and smug now.

  She got up again and went to the cupboard. She opened the small door, happily swaying to some tune only she could hear. She withdrew a knife from the cupboard that anyone could easily have assumed was there for surgeries and other medical purposes. Toman knew that Lady Ateala now had a purpose in mind that had nothing to do with healing. If she were a pawn of Moloch’s, it did not bode well for him.

  “It was so much fun playing you—you and your so-called brother both. What a couple of bleeding hearts.” She smirked at him and leaned in, trailing the flat of the blade along his cheek and whispering, as if telling him a secret.

  “I was behind it all, you know, behind everything that brought you here. The Reshkin were my special project. I don’t have a lot of magic, you see, but I’m very good with what I do have. I’m good at making little changes, so I made a lot of little changes in the Reshkin, over time. I made them bigger, stronger, and tougher. And, of course, I made them far more venomous—that was the easiest part! And then I coordinated them and sent them after the Nadra. The stupid snakes were clueless! I was delighted when they brought me some of their own kind, writhing in an agony that I was responsible for. I, of course, played the caring but helpless healer and inside, I rejoiced at the obvious success of my project.