I sucked in a deep breath as my uncle took his seat in the middle. “Now,” he said. “Tell us what this is all about, Kyla.”
There were so many things I wanted to say. And I was sure that I wasn’t going to say any of them eloquently. I could only speak from the heart and hope it would be enough.
“I come before you today to plead with you to consider two requests,” I began, trying to choose each word as carefully as I could. “Fintan blood flows in my veins, just as it does in yours. The fire has fascinated me since I was a small child, calling to me as it did to each of you.”
Niall Hannigan openly rolled his eyes.
I fixed my gaze on the torches behind them so I wouldn’t lose my nerve. Another deep breath. “When I was small, I met Nolan Malone at the festival, when the Fintan were performing here in Orivesi. He knew a little magecraft and taught it to me.”
The thane looked at Nolan. “And how did you know such a thing, outsider?” His voice was cold, his face stern.
Nolan swallowed. “My papa taught me. Just a little.”
The council burst into frenzied conversation.
“Such a thing is forbidden,” cried Old Rory.
Nolan raised his hands. “Let me speak,” he called.
The council quieted, but the suspicion in their eyes had only deepened.
“You know my papa left the clan to marry my mama. Perhaps you also know that she died twelve years ago.”
This seemed to come as news to about half of the council, but the others nodded stoically.
Nolan continued, “My older brother Brody . . .”
I tilted my head. An older brother named Brody?
Nolan didn’t look at me as he spoke, his words coming faster and faster. “He was gifted. Unlike any child my papa had ever seen. But my papa believed the council. Believed it was too dangerous to teach anyone outside the confines of the clan. So he didn’t. He just told Brody to control it. To tamp it down.”
My hand flew to my mouth as the pieces came together in my mind.
Nolan continued, “The fire burned too hot in Brody. He figured out on his own how to light a spark. He was only seven. Didn’t understand the danger. When Papa found out, he was angry. Shouted at him. Brody stormed off, yelling that he was going to learn magecraft and go live with the Fintan. He went into the barn. Mama followed him to try to comfort him. To talk sense into his head. She was carrying the baby with her. Papa walked down to the lake to clear his head.”
A tear tracked down Nolan’s cheek. Sensitive and kind though he was, I’d never seen him cry before. “In his anger, Brody set the barn on fire. When Papa saw the flames, he ran home as fast as he could to try to put it out, but it was too late. Brody, my mama, and the baby all died. Because Brody had figured out just enough magecraft to be dangerous and didn’t know how to treat it with proper respect. My papa decided that day that his children would learn enough magecraft to respect it.”
The suspicion had faded from the councilors’ faces. Well, most of them, anyway. Gainor Byrne seemed especially horrified, and tears brimmed in his eyes.
“Can you blame him?” Nolan choked out the last words. He stepped back.
I strongly suspected that the council did not blame Dallan Malone for his choice. But fear buzzed in the back of my head. The law was the law. Would they risk upsetting millennia of tradition for . . . anything?
Their attention returned to me. Time to speak again. Where had I left off? I was still awash in the horror of Nolan’s story.
“Nolan knows enough to be a mage,” I said. “And I do too. And so here are my requests: that you allow me to take the mage test and to become a mage if I pass.” I wanted to ask that they let all girls take the mage test, but I decided to not push my luck. If I became a mage, I would use that position to work for the women of the clan. But it wasn’t strategic to ask for everything at once. “And I would like the Malones to be given the choice of whether to rejoin the clan or not. Their mama is gone. The only ones remaining are of Fintan blood, and they all have the fire in their veins.”
Dead silence.
Hope fluttered in my chest. Were they considering my words? It certainly seemed like Cormac, and maybe Gainor, were thinking hard.
Then Niall scoffed. “But you’re a girl.”
My uncle stood, a storm darkening his eyes. “I am empathetic to the plight of the Malones,” he said. “Do not think me heartless.”
My fragile hope shattered.
“But the choice to leave is final,” he said. “We cannot water down our bloodline and slowly lose our magic. To do so would bring nothing but poverty and ruin for the clan. Dallan Malone made his choice. And Kyla, you must make yours.”
Nothing to lose. “I choose to take the mage test.”
He chuckled. One by one, the other council members caught his merriment. Niall Hannigan burst into uproarious laughter. Most of the others smirked at me. Even Cormac couldn’t suppress a condescending smile.
My face warmed, and I could feel each thudding beat of my heart. They thought me a joke?
I raised my hands and sent out tendrils of energy toward the torches behind the council table. With a jerk of my hand, I extinguished them. Didn’t even need to whisper the word.
The council members fell silent. Then my uncle said, “Kyla, I apologize for laugh—”
But I didn’t want to hear his false apology. I closed my eyes, and the labyrinth was close at hand. I didn’t need to think of my resentment toward Shayla. I had enough resentment and rage flowing in me to burn down the whole tent. But I suppressed it, controlled it enough to summon only a small orb of fire, letting it hover over my hand. I opened my eyes in the dim light of the tent. Sunlight still peeked through the canvas, showing me the faces of the council members, but only barely. I shaped the orb into a phoenixfly and sent it to flutter around the heads of the councilors. They shifted away from it, as if they were afraid it might explode into an inferno.
I called the fire back and kept it hovering over my hand. “I know too much magecraft,” I said. “You can’t afford not to train me. It’s better to ensure I am fully trained in all the ways of a Fintan mage.”
My uncle tilted his head. “All those fires here in Orivesi. Did you set them, trying to practice?”
My cheeks warmed, and I hoped the council couldn’t see my blush in the dim light. Mind racing, I considered my options. Was it a test? Had the thane already figured out the truth? If I lied, would they think I’d been setting fires all through the county?
Swallowing, I said, “I was able to put them all out. All except one, the night I injured my ankle. I can ex—”
“Enough!” called my uncle. He snapped his fingers, and the torches flared to life again. “Kyla, I won’t hear of this. And you will learn not to defy the council.” His eyebrows knit together, as if he were considering his next words. And then his face relaxed. “For your defiance, you must suffer consequences. If such a breaking of the order is left unpunished, the community is harmed. For order cannot survive disorder. Kyla Brannon, you are no longer a fire dancer of the Fintan. You will not dance another festival show as long as you live.”
I understood each of his words but couldn’t string them together to fully comprehend their meaning. “What did you say?” I asked weakly.
“You are no longer the Phoenix,” he replied, looking almost regretful. “You are no longer a fire dancer. You may choose whether you will stay in the clan and submit to the council or go with this boy and never return. But”—his face softened—“I will not force you to make that choice today.” His gaze snapped to Nolan. “Leave,” he hissed. “And I don’t want to see you or your family in our encampment or at our festival ever again.”
“You’re making a mistake,” said Nolan, his voice hoarse. He bowed his head, his jaw tight, and backed out of the tent. What else could he do? We were powerless against the will of the council.
Would Nolan want to be alone after this? Or would he meet me down at our usu
al place so we could discuss the blazing situation we’d found ourselves in?
Oh, how Shayla would be satisfied.
Then the realization hit me. The thane’s words. Like a slap.
You are no longer the Phoenix. You are no longer a fire dancer.
“With all due respect,” I said, each word strangled, like it was gasping for breath. “Uncle, you cannot take my place as Phoenix, as a fire dancer, away from me. The council has to agree. Unanimously.” I trained my gaze, one by one, on the councilors who had seemed more sympathetic. Last of all, I cast pleading eyes on Cormac.
Old Rory stood. “I affirm,” he said.
Niall Hannigan added his voice. “I affirm.”
Then Gainor, his voice reluctant. “I affirm.”
Then Desmond.
One by one, the councilors stood and affirmed the thane’s decree, and my heart shattered a little bit more each time.
Last of all, Cormac stood.
Please. I held his gaze. Please. You’re a good man. I know you are.
“I’m sorry, Kyla,” he said. “I think you would be a wonderful mage. But we cannot overthrow the whole order for the whims of one person. We can’t have a Phoenix who doesn’t realize that. And you set a fire in your carelessness.”
The last of my hope sputtered and died, like an extinguished flame.
“I affirm,” said Cormac.
Dizziness. Disbelief. Uncontrollable heat burned behind my eyes. I whirled on my heel and stormed out of the tent so the council wouldn’t see me cry.
Chapter Thirty-One
How the blazes had everything fallen apart so quickly? An hour ago, I’d had the best practice of my life. I was on top of the world. I was . . . dancing with love. Whatever that even meant.
Blazes. Blazes. Blazes. Let the whole world burn.
I ran without stopping toward the glade. If Nolan wasn’t there, I’d leave a note for him in the old oak. I wanted to see him. But more than anything, I couldn’t stay in the camp. Couldn’t face anyone else in the clan. Word would spread like a wildfire. I imagined talking to Breanna, Papa, Mama. The disappointment in their eyes.
Aislinn and Liam would quietly reassure me that it wasn’t fair, but I didn’t want to face their pity. Liam’s obnoxious friends would just laugh at me.
The tears burned hot, but I held them back until I was beyond the edge of the festival. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing my agony. Not any of them.
I burst into the glen. Nolan was nowhere to be seen. I supposed he needed to go confess everything that had happened to his papa. To warn him to be on his guard, in case the council decided to move against him after all.
A note it was, then. But I realized I had no parchment to leave in the oak.
I slammed my fist against the wood. It sent pain racing through my arm, but I didn’t care. I hit the tree again. And again. And again.
Then I sank down into the dirt and began to weep. Everything was lost. I wasn’t even a dancer anymore. I was nothing. My breath came in quick, short bursts.
The pain was too much. It overwhelmed me, weighed on my chest like it would crush me and leave my broken body lying there, battered, an empty husk.
I lay there, in the dirt, for hours. The sun began its descent, casting shadows in the fading lavender light, and the cicadas began their riotous song. But still I stayed where I was. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.
At some point, the tears had stopped. I wasn’t sure when. The pain had faded, too, leaving me numb. Maybe it really had killed me. Maybe this was what death felt like.
Still, I didn’t move. I felt . . . paralyzed. Why wasn’t I moving? It was time for me to go home.
But what was home, now?
The shadows had grown longer when I heard a voice. “Kyla?”
I pushed myself up to my elbows, my head tilting. Papa?
“Kyla!” the voice called again. Desperate. Afraid.
“Papa!” I called back, but my voice was weak, and I was sure it didn’t carry far enough. I pushed myself to my knees.
Then Papa was running into the glen. “Kyla,” he said again, his voice laced with relief. He ran to me and skidded to the ground, wrapping me in his arms. I sank into his warmth, letting it comfort me.
“Papa,” I whispered, my voice breaking. The tears brimmed in my eyes again and then began to stream down my cheeks. “How did you find me?”
He didn’t let me go. “Your uncle came to tell us what had happened. When you didn’t come home, I went to the Malones’ place to find you. Nolan was there, getting the lecture of his life from Dallan. I’ve never seen Dallan lose his temper like that. But Nolan told me where you’d probably be.” He hesitated. “Why didn’t you come home?”
My face crumpled. “I couldn’t face everyone.”
He held me tighter. “You scared me. I was afraid you had run away without saying goodbye. That you’d left without making a plan.” He pulled back to look at me, and his eyes were red-rimmed. “Afraid you were out there alone. That someone would hurt you.”
“I’m here, Papa,” I whispered.
“I know.” He stood and scooped me up like I was five years old again. “Let’s get you back home.”
When we arrived at the tent, Breanna and Mama were huddled around the table, and Darick was pacing the tent from end to end.
Breanna saw me first. “Thank the fire,” she breathed.
“My baby!” Mama cried, her chair clattering backward onto the dirt as she stood and rushed toward Papa and me.
Papa set me on my feet, and Mama crushed me in a tight hug.
“Where were you?” she wailed.
Breanna joined us and rested her hands on both my shoulders.
“I didn’t mean to frighten everyone,” I said. “I just . . . needed time alone.”
Mama squeezed me so hard I thought she might fracture my ribs. When she released me, Breanna took her turn, pulling me tight and whispering, “Don’t scare us like that again, Kyla.”
I wriggled out of their grasp and took a step back, wiping at my tearstained face. But the pity I expected to see in their eyes was missing. They just looked relieved.
My hands trembled. “I don’t know what all Uncle Eamon told you. But I’m not a dancer anymore. My punishment for using magic.” I stared straight at the ground, afraid of the judgment I would find in their countenances. I couldn’t take judgment. Not today.
Breanna reached out and clasped my shoulder. “I’m just happy you’re safe,” she said.
Mama sniffled.
The numbness encased my heart again. “I’m sorry,” I murmured, stepping to the side and heading toward the small tent flap that led into my room. “Sorry I disappointed you all.”
Breanna moved to follow me. “Kyla—”
“I still need a little time alone,” I said. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow, Breanna. It’s all still too fresh.”
I met her eyes for a fraction of a moment, and she nodded at me. At that, I disappeared into my room and threw myself into the safety of my blankets. A bleak future unspooled itself in my mind. No dancing. No options but marriage. In less than a year, I was old enough for a formal betrothal. But who would marry me after such a scandal? After I’d been caught using magic and cast from the troupe? The humiliation smoldered in my chest. One of Liam’s awful friends, maybe? The thought roiled my stomach.
I could stay unmarried, living in Mama and Papa’s tent. The idea of the long years of nothingness stretching out before me was almost as horrifying as the idea of marriage to someone I loathed.
Or, I could leave the clan . . .
I could hear a stirring in the main area of the tent, and Breanna murmured, “Let’s go, Darick. We’ll let her sleep, and I’ll come by tomorrow afternoon.” She paused. “Nay, I have to go to the market tomorrow afternoon for fresh fruit. The warm weather is wilting all the produce. I’ll bring Kyla back a bilafruit. Maybe a snail roll. I’ll come for dinner.”
Papa
murmured his assent, and a few moments later, the tent flap swished, signifying that Breanna and Darick had gone. I burrowed deeper into my blankets and lost myself again in tears.
Early the next afternoon, I found Nolan sitting on our mossy rock. As soon as I saw his face, I burst into tears.
He jumped up and ran to me, enfolding me in an embrace. “Now we know,” he said quietly.
“They . . . just took it from me,” I sobbed against his chest. “All of them. Unanimous.”
“Let’s climb the tree,” he said.
I nodded, but the misery still clung close to me from every side. With another heaving sob, I swung myself up into the tree and began to climb, trying to focus on the gentle burn in my muscles rather than on how everything was ruined.
Rather than on how very much I hated Shayla. Who was now the Phoenix. The only Phoenix. And I wasn’t even a troupe dancer.
When I blinked, the white labyrinth intruded on my vision, but I shook it away. If I even thought about using magecraft in my current state, I might set the very world on fire.
We reached the familiar branches, as high as we could safely climb. That territorial squirrel chittered at me, scolding me for intruding on its territory, but I swatted at it, in no mood to humor it. Before I could make contact, it jumped up and scrambled further up the tree.
I settled into the groove in the branch, and Nolan eased into the vee beneath me. We sat there in agonized silence for a while.
And then I whispered, “Everything’s ruined.”
He sighed. “I’m sorry, Kyla.”
“And I feel like such a fool. Who was I to think that they’d listen to me? That somehow I’d be the one to change the clan?”
More silence.
“Kyla,” he said. “I . . . don’t want to pressure you to make any decisions that you’re not ready for. But yesterday . . . changes things, doesn’t it?”
I wiped at my tears with my sleeve. “I know.”
“The Fintan are leaving soon,” he said. “In two or three weeks.”
I didn’t bother to reply. It was true. And I knew what he was about to say. I closed my eyes.
Fire Dancer Page 18
