Fire Dancer

by Catherine Jones Payne

  “Fintan fire!” the crowd intoned again.

  Deirdre whispered, “You’re free to go.”

  I followed Shayla offstage and down the stairs in a daze. I was the Phoenix.

  And so was Shayla.

  Papa bounded up to me and clapped a hand on my back, the grin on his face speaking his pride louder than any words. Mama flounced over and congratulated me, beaming from ear to ear.

  She was probably scheming about how this benefitted my marriage prospects. But I let her crow in victory. At least she was pleased with me, for once.

  Shayla, likewise, was accepting her congratulations with a serene countenance. I could only imagine the murder churning underneath her smile.

  “Come on!” Breanna’s voice tugged me out of my thoughts, and I turned to embrace her. “Let’s celebrate!”

  She pulled me away from Mama and Papa and through the crowd, stopping every few paces to let me respond to the congratulations the Fintan were heaping on me.

  “Don’t let it go to your head,” she whispered. But she was still smiling.

  “It’s . . . not quite the same,” I murmured.

  “I know,” she said, the smile still on her face. “But I’m thrilled for you anyway.”

  I pushed further into the crowd, trying to get clear of it so that Breanna and I could slip off somewhere my thoughts could spin. I needed to wrap my head around what had just happened—perhaps we’d go to Terra Market and look at the flowers.

  And then I collided with Shayla.

  I jumped back. “Sorry,” I muttered instinctively.

  “You’d better be,” she snapped.

  My head jerked up. “Can you just relax?” I demanded. “We both won.”

  Her lips tightened. “I know what you did up there. I know you used magecraft to cheat.”

  Blazes, Shayla really was angry. She couldn’t contain herself.

  Breanna’s grip on my upper arm tightened.

  I shook my hair out of the updo. “Well, that sounds impossible to prove,” I said in a carefree voice. “And even if I did use magic, it’s not cheating. No rule forbids it.”

  “All the rules forbid it,” she hissed. “You’re not permitted to use it. Ever. You’re untrained. My papa could throw you out of the clan.”

  “I’m sure the council would frown on me using magic, if I knew magecraft.” I crossed my arms. “But nothing specifically forbids its use in a dance or audition.”

  Breanna tugged at my arm. “Let’s move along.”

  I shifted to the side to pass Shayla and tripped, falling forward with my arms in front of me. I hit the grass with a thud.

  Ouch. I struggled to suck in a breath, scanning my body for pain. My frame felt rattled, but that seemed to be the extent of it. No serious injury, I thought. Just a mortally wounded pride.

  I rolled onto my back and looked up at Shayla. She gave a little smirk. She’d tripped me, the little snit. Oh, how I loathed her.

  “Are you alright, Kyla?” she asked in her sickly sweet voice. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize you were still there.”

  Sure. I narrowed my eyes at her. “Fine. Thanks.” Scrambling to my feet, I grabbed Breanna’s arm and slipped into the crowd, fuming.

  So Shayla had recognized the flourish of magecraft I’d used. Not that she could prove it. Maybe she was just trying to get under my skin.

  But I couldn’t suppress the niggling suspicion that she was holding out for the right moment to crush me like a trod-upon phoenixfly.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Let’s go back to the tent first,” Breanna said. “You need to change.”

  I looked down at my outfit and chuckled. Blazes, had I been about to browse Terra Market in the Phoenix costume? The strange, exhilarating day really had gone to my head.

  “Market afterward?” I asked.

  She nodded. “I was thinking exactly that.”

  Our steps sounded in unison as we hurried back through the festival grounds, weaving between tables and waving at the other Fintan. When we reached the encampment, we ran even faster, tumbling into Mama and Papa’s tent with giggles.

  “I knew you’d win!” Breanna declared.

  “But I didn’t win. Not really. But I did, at the same time.” My mind raced, and I started laughing again in frantic, short bursts. What. Had. Happened?

  “You’re the Phoenix,” she said. “For now, that’s enough.”

  I should be happy. It’s better this way. Even if it’s Shayla. That two girls receive the honor—that more than one of us is allowed to reach the pinnacle of success. Better, right? Progress?

  If only it had been anyone but Shayla.

  Breanna moved behind me and unhooked the skirt from around my waist, folding it carefully and setting it on the table. “Go change,” she said. “And don’t think about Shayla.”

  I danced into my room, stripped off the black top, tight pants, and dance shoes, and replaced the costume with my looser everyday garments. Even in my excitement, I gave a little sigh of contentment at the feel of more comfortable clothes. I folded the pants and top and carried them out to Breanna.

  She set them primly on top of the skirt. “You ready?”

  Pointing to my eyes, I said, “Lash feathers.”

  She snorted. We sat down at the table, and she pulled them off, leaving them on the pile of clothes.

  “Now?” she asked.

  I nodded, running my hands through my hair and squealing again. I pulled on my sandals, and we darted through the door and ran for the market.

  I bit into a decadent snail roll and closed my eyes at the melding of the puff pastry, custard, and raisins. Nolan was not the only reason for me to leave the Fintan and stay in Orivesi for good, I mused with a chuckle. Snail rolls were also unique to this county and a compelling reason to stay.

  But not right now. Definitely not now. Another smile broke out on my face. Because I was the Phoenix. It still felt surreal.

  Breanna selected a snail roll for herself from the busker’s tray, and we strolled down the row of stalls, looking at the fresh produce, colorful fabric, and wooden carvings.

  At one booth, three earth wizards stood close to each other, embroiled in conversation. Behind them, potatoes were piled high on the wooden table. I heard the word “arsonist” and strained to make out what they were saying.

  “Serves him right,” the oldest of the men huffed.

  “Can’t condone arson,” responded a heavyset woman, “especially not with the fire folk in the county. But Jouko Koskinen gets what he gets.”

  Jouko Koskinen. I knew that name. Mr. Malone had said he owned half of Orivesi.

  Why do you think so many of the earth wizards are impoverished though they’re so talented at bringing forth food from the land? Mr. Malone’s words rang in my head. The signs of poverty here were apparent. The glassy-eyed children. The prominent cheekbones of the women in the low-cut dresses. Even some of the merchants, though not all, seemed almost desperate to sell their wares.

  If you control the land, you control the wizards.

  And it seemed the merchants shared Mr. Malone’s distaste for Jouko.

  “Just a second,” I whispered to Breanna. I stepped toward the three wizards. “Excuse me.”

  As one, they reared back, their eyes wide. No doubt afraid that a Fintan girl had overheard them. My clothing, face, and hair all revealed my connection to the clan.

  “Don’t be afraid.” I held up my hands. “I’ve no intention of repeating your words to anyone. I just want to know more about this Jouko fellow. Why everyone seems to hate him so much.”

  The heavyset woman eyed me suspiciously, but the old man spat on the ground. “Swear by your eternal flame that you’ll not repeat anything you just heard to your council or to Jouko’s people.”

  I clapped a closed fist to my heart. “On my life and by the eternal flame.”

  He regarded me shrewdly. “Why do you want to know?”

  My eyes darted around the market. �
��Maybe I can help. I . . . just won an audition. I’m the new Phoenix.”

  Something like amusement crossed his face. “It’s no secret what the Fintan think of their women. No offense intended, ma’am. But you’re a dancer, not a politician.”

  It felt like a slap, but I maintained my composure. “Then tell me about the arson in these parts,” I said, gesturing at the heavyset woman. “What did she mean that Jouko gets what he gets?”

  The old man shrugged. “No secret there’ve been a lot of fires. All of them burned buildings owned by Jouko. Storehouses, mostly. Someone has it out for Jouko. Does no harm to speak of that, I expect. I’ve no doubt your council already knows. Jouko certainly knows.”

  “Who would have it out for Jouko?”

  At this, all three of them burst into uproarious laughter. I took a step back, almost offended.

  And then the old man contained himself. “You’ve narrowed your list of arsonists down to most of Orivesi,” he said. “Now, here. You gonna buy the taters or not? I rent my land and this booth from Jouko, and believe me when I say the rent is murderous.”

  I gave him a few coins and opened my bag to accept three potatoes. Hadn’t planned on bringing food home to Mama, but it seemed like the right thing to do under the circumstances.

  “Thank you,” I murmured, stepping back and returning to Breanna.

  She looked at me, her brow arched. “What was that about?”

  I shook my head. “Better if you don’t know.”

  If my feet had hoped for a break after the audition, they were sadly mistaken.

  The next day, I arrived at practice a few minutes early. My stomach churned as I approached the practice tent in the early morning light. It looked the same as it always did—the dull, off-white canvas unassuming and subdued. But I saw it with new eyes. “I’m the Phoenix!” I whispered, trying to summon all the excitement of the night before.

  But something inside me felt . . . empty. Like the thing I’d worked so hard for wasn’t enough to sate my restless spirit. I chewed my lip. Half the other girls would kill for this opportunity. It wasn’t right for me to feel unsatisfied. I tamped the emotions down. It was time to dance.

  As soon as I swished through the flap, Deirdre pulled me aside.

  “You won’t need to keep working on the troupe dances with the other girls,” she said, the torch flickering behind her. “Breanna is going to start choreographing a Phoenix pair dance for you and Shayla. I expect it to be show-ready in a month. We need to have you dancing it in the shows before it becomes clear that Breanna is with child.”

  I nodded. I could do that. I’d learned Scarlet Moon in a month.

  “Also, the council has decided we’ll linger an extra month here. That means you’ll be performing here in Orivesi.”

  A little thrill ran through me. Nolan would be able to see me as the Phoenix. And he could even bring his family.

  Aislinn ducked into the tent. I glanced around. About half the troupe was here. Shayla wasn’t among them yet. If she made a habit of being late, would Deirdre give the whole role to me instead of making us share it?

  Guilt roiled my stomach. If only I were sharing it with Aislinn instead.

  “Another fire!” Aislinn exclaimed, her eyes wide. “About three miles away, I think.”

  Something buzzed in my chest. “What burned?” I asked.

  Aislinn shrugged. “A barn, I think. Owned by someone rich.”

  My hands tingled.

  Ciara stretched upward and then reached down to touch her toes. “Local arsonist at it again?” she quipped.

  Deirdre turned on her. “Ciara Murray, hold your tongue,” she snapped. “Such rumors can start infernos worse than any physical blaze.”

  Ciara snapped back up, startled. “Sorry, Deirdre.”

  Deirdre shivered, and her eyes fluttered closed. “Just be cautious, children. All of you. Be careful what you do. Be careful what you say.”

  A shudder ran down my spine. I’d never heard Deirdre say anything like this before. She always had advice for us, of course, in every area of our lives. Whether we wanted her guidance or not. But I’d never known her to seem . . . scared.

  Aislinn and I exchanged uncertain looks.

  Deirdre caught my expression and held up her hand. “You young ones hardly remember the last thane challenge.”

  The challenge was held once every five years—any mage could duel the thane for his position as leader of the council. Eamon, my uncle, had become thane almost ten years ago, when I was a small child. Five years ago, no one had challenged him.

  Did Eamon face a significant rival this year? I didn’t think so, but I didn’t pay much attention to council politics. The conversation with Mr. Malone played at the edge of my mind. He’d been quite interested in learning more about the thane and the upcoming challenge.

  Ciara opened her mouth, but then Shayla stalked into the tent, her face wrinkled like she’d just eaten something sour.

  A cautious look overtook Ciara’s face, and she clamped her mouth shut without saying anything. It seemed no one wanted to ask Deirdre for clarification in front of the thane’s daughter.

  I sank into my troubled thoughts as I waited for Breanna to arrive to start teaching Shayla and me the new steps.

  If the earth wizards were right, if someone was using arson to target Jouko Koskinen . . .

  Goosebumps broke out on my arms. The Fintan claimed jurisdiction over all arsonists and took the crime deadly seriously. An out-of-control fire put our clan’s very survival in jeopardy. Too many, and we risked losing the goodwill of the counties in which we traveled and performed.

  I thought of the heart-rending poverty in the Terra Market. If it weren’t for the festival, we’d have less than they did. No land. No useful magic with which to coax life out of the earth. How would we survive if we were dependent on people like Jouko, who cared only to line their own pockets?

  Nay, Deirdre was right. Ciara’s words were careless. If there was an arsonist, he must be dealt with swiftly, before rumors implicated any of the fire folk. And an ill-timed word, like a stray spark, could ignite a deadly blaze.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Nolan!” I called as I jogged up to our spot by the creek that afternoon.

  “Kyla.” He approached me with wide, eager eyes. “How did it go?”

  A giddy smile spread across my face. “I . . . won. Sort of.”

  “Yes!” he shouted, grabbing me by the waist and spinning me around. The gentle breeze ruffled my hair as he set me down. Then he paused, and his eyes narrowed. “Wait, what do you mean, sort of?”

  I eased out of his embrace and shuffled through the gravel to sit on our favorite mossy rock. Scooping my legs up to my chest, I said, “I’m the Phoenix. But they gave it to Shayla too.”

  Nolan sat beside me, dipping his sandaled feet into the cool, flowing water of the creek. “You’re . . . both the Phoenix?”

  “It’s happened before,” I said, focusing my gaze on a bluebird’s wings. “But not in my lifetime. Not even in Mama’s lifetime.”

  His eyes crinkled. “How does that work?”

  “Pair dances.” I made a face.

  “Huh.” A silence stretched out between us, the song of bubbling water and trilling birdsong filling the space. “How do you feel about that?” he finally asked.

  “Confused,” I said. “If it weren’t Shayla, it’d be different.”

  His hand found mine. “I understand. But I’m happy you get to be Phoenix.”

  There was something else in his eyes, something like pain. I tilted my head. “What’s wrong?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I’m happy for you.”

  I scooted back, searching his eyes. And that’s when it hit me. “It’s another thing that ties me to the clan. Another thing that stands in the way of . . . whatever this is.”

  He shook his head and cupped my chin. “I’m glad you got what you wanted,” he said. “The chance of seeing y
ou more . . . might have been a silver lining if you’d lost. But that doesn’t mean I hoped you’d lose.”

  I threw my arms around his neck. “I don’t deserve you.”

  He dropped a quick kiss on the top of my head. “Other way around, I’m afraid.”

  Then I pulled away, my confused, tumultuous thoughts tugging at me. “I’m not satisfied.”

  His brows drew together. “Pardon?”

  “With being Phoenix.”

  “You mean because Shayla won too?”

  “Nay.” I shook my head. “That came out wrong. I’m happy to be the Phoenix. Delighted. Grateful. And it’s okay that there are two of us. Really, it’s better that way. It’s not fair that there’s room for only one girl to succeed.”

  He nodded, his lips puckered in thought.

  I took a deep breath, hoping that what I was about to say next wouldn’t come out as terribly entitled and petulant. “But when they announced my name. When I tied with Shayla, after so many people assumed she would win . . . it made me realize I was capable of more than they gave me credit for.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”

  “It means I want to be a mage.”

  He kicked at the water. “Well, yes. I knew that.”

  “You know I want to do magecraft. But I want to be a mage. For real. We’ve talked about it over the years as a distant dream, as something to work toward, as something that might be . . . someday. But I want to work hard for it. Here and now. And then I want to prove my skill in front of the council.”

  He gave a low whistle. “You want to tell the council you’ve been learning in secret?”

  I crossed my arms and stood as straight as I could. “We knew it would come to that someday. It’s the only way. They won’t train me, and I don’t want to keep my skills a secret for the rest of my life. I want to work the festival as a mage. For a long time.”

  He swallowed, and his jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

  I reached out for his arm. “I care about you,” I said. “I want us to be together. That’s why I want the two of us to go to the council and take our mage tests together.”