Trail of Flames

by Marlow York

  “He was there,” Saven said.

  I looked up at Saven in surprise, then observed the way Captain Lagan’s eyes grew distant and hard. I wanted to ask him more, but if he was not willing to share what he’d seen in front of the group, then it was not my place to force him to talk about something that clearly caused him pain.

  “But you think they can defeat the City?” I broke the silence.

  “I think they stand the best chance,” Nero said. “They have shared their technology with the City, so they would know how to destroy it.”

  “The metal spiders,” I said quietly, remembering the eerie way the robots moved like living creatures.

  Nero nodded. “I can only assume the City is paying them well for their powers, so it would be difficult to convince them to help us.”

  “Unless it’s power they seek,” Bersi said. “Perhaps the Domintia want to overthrow the City but they haven’t been able to on their own.”

  “And if they do?” Vondak asked. “We could be overthrowing one tyrant and passing the throne to another.”

  The group fell silent as we realized what that could mean for the rest of us. Like Vondak said, this battle was no victory; the dead could attest to that. Was it worth destroying the City with the help of the Domintia if they took control over us? What sort of future would that create?

  “I wanted this to be the end,” I lamented to Saven.

  Saven hissed softly, but he didn’t have the words to console me. My eyes fell on Khero, who sat awkwardly at the edge of the forest, not knowing whether to stay or go. He watched me closely, unconcerned with the blood that splattered his grey and white fur. I touched my cheek and felt a bruise; my fingers came away sticky and red. The men argued about whether or not the Domintia would help us, but their voices blurred together as I stepped over to the wolf.

  Khero watched me with stony eyes, but I knew he meant no harm. “What would Tarek do?” I asked him. “He was a leader once—would he choose the Domintia as allies, or avoid them for fear they’d become our new rulers?”

  Khero’s ears flicked and he looked at the group of men behind me. His eyes narrowed as they gazed over the battlefield, assessing each fallen enemy and ally, carefully considering the survivors. His mouth opened and closed, creating a growling, grumbling noise. Then his eyes looked at Saven as he slithered up beside me.

  “He says it doesn’t matter what Tarek would do,” Saven translated. “Tarek is not here, only you are. It’s up to you to choose—lead these people into battle again and watch more of them die, take a chance on an unreliable ally, or do nothing and let the City kill us all.”

  “When you put it like that, it hardly sounds like a choice,” I muttered.

  Khero growled.

  “What he means is, you must choose your own fate. No choice goes without consequences, but you must follow your own path, not the path of someone else.”

  I turned to look at the survivors. Exhausted as they were, I still saw faces of determination, not defeat. I wondered if they knew what we knew—this war wasn’t over; it had just begun. There would be more bloodshed before its conclusion, and we wouldn’t be able to win the way we had fought this time.

  “We need more help,” I said quietly.

  “Who else can we ask?” Saven stared at me.

  I glanced up at him, then at Khero, trying to think of a solution. Bjorn wandered toward us, leaving the bickering behind. He spotted Khero and hesitated. “You were Tarek’s companion, correct?”

  The wolf snarled.

  “Yes, Khero was Tarek’s companion,” I said, shooting Khero a warning look.

  Bjorn bowed deeply to the wolf. “I apologize for being too forward,” he said. “There are so few gods among us now, one forgets to be respectful.”

  Khero huffed a breath, annoyed but forgiving. My eyes wandered from the wolf to Bjorn, then to Anza and Raerek. Mjoll stood patiently at Anza’s side.

  “Bjorn, do you find it strange that Anza has an Animal God now?” I asked.

  He glanced at the blond Warrior. “Yes, but we have always been taught not to question the gods’ decisions. The mountain lion must have come to her because Anza desperately needed her, and she was found worthy.”

  I caught a hint of jealousy in Bjorn’s voice. “Do you think it’s possible the gods would find more Grakkir worthy?”

  Bjorn seemed to catch on to what I was thinking. “I am not the one to ask.” His eyes drifted over my shoulder to Khero.

  We all turned to the wolf, then looked up at Saven. The two gods exchanged looks. Saven hissed and Khero growled until they seemed to reach a conclusion.

  “I cannot leave you,” Saven told me. “But Khero thinks he may be able to help. However, whatever you decide must truly be the path you wish to travel. There will be no forks and no turning back.”

  I met the wolf’s piercing yellow eyes. Though he seemed lost to the rest of us, centuries of wisdom coursed through his veins. Therefore, I trusted him and had faith in his abilities. I nodded, and without another word, Khero stood and disappeared into the forest.

  I bit my lip and directed my attention to the group still pondering whether or not we could trust the Domintia. If none of them could come to an agreement, I’d have to decide for them.

  “We will go to the Domintia!” I said.

  Voices quieted until all we heard was soft moaning from the injured and the breeze shifting the remaining trees. All eyes turned to me and I marched over to the group.

  “We don’t have time to stand here and bicker. We’ve all taken heavy losses and we barely drove the City away. This time, we can’t take any chances. We need all the help we can get from everyone who can give it.” My eyes drifted from one face to the next. “This isn’t just a fight for those raised for the battleground.” I met Vondak’s eyes. “And we can’t hide and hope things will sort themselves out.” I turned to Nero. “We need everyone, and that means the Domintia. They are one of us, whether we want them to be or not.” My eyes fell on Captain Lagan.

  “Even if that means they may turn on us?” Bersi said.

  “And what if they don’t?” I countered. “We won’t know if we don’t ask.”

  The men looked at each other in turn, pondering what they believed.

  “Are you with me or not?” I asked.

  “I am with you, Valieri,” Bjorn said without hesitation. “What the City has done is unforgivable and they must be punished.”

  “The Fiero has a point.” Vondak looked at me and I caught a subtle glitter in his eyes. It was as close as I’d ever seen him to being proud of someone.

  Captain Lagan sighed heavily. “I suppose you’ll be needing my ships to send you in the right direction?”

  I grinned at him. “There is no one else I’d trust to sail the seas, with the Theria directing the winds, of course.”

  “My king will not be pleased I have acted against his wishes,” Nero said gravely.

  I lifted my chin and met his eyes. “Sometimes we need to act against those who rule us if we are to do what’s right.”

  Nero pursed his lips. He seemed uncertain, but still, he gave a determined nod. “We’ll go now and see what fate awaits us. If you don’t hear from me, know I did all I could to support this cause and my fellow clansmen.” He looked around the group and everyone gave a respectful nod.

  “Thank you for saving my life,” I told him. “Be sure your men know they helped in this small victory.”

  Without another word, Nero slipped the stone mask over his face and thumped the ground with his club. The other Nordahl gathered, the earth began to rumble and shake, and as quickly as they had appeared, the strangely clad men disappeared into the ground.

  “We all must leave,” Vondak said. “We are too close to the City.” He looked at the others. “Gather your fallen and go far from here. Do not trust in safe places, for you will find no more exist after this.”

  “The Grakkir will return to the west?” I asked.

  He loo
ked at me and Saven. “If it were up to me, you would be welcome to come with us. However, I know the promise you made to Ysolda and it is not one you can break.”

  My heart sunk a little, but he was right. When I swore to leave the Grakkir for their safety, I promised I would never return. There were no more safe places, but anyplace I stayed was perhaps the least safe of all.

  Vondak was watching me. He clapped his hand on my shoulder, meeting my eyes. “Ysolda was the one who told us to train the Secara and she approves of what you are doing. She wanted you to know she is proud of you and the Grakkir stand beside you in this fight.”

  I stared at him in surprise.

  “Perhaps the old woman respects you more than you realize,” Saven said.

  Before I had a chance to respond, Vondak called to the other Grakkir.

  “I will go with you to the land of the Domintia,” Bjorn said.

  I inhaled deeply. “I would want nothing more than to have you at my side, but…”

  Saven and I exchanged glances, both thinking the same thing. The fewer allies we dragged with us to an unknown land, the fewer friends we would lose and the more fighters we’d have for the next battle.

  “But you think it is too dangerous?” Bjorn asked, looking hurt.

  I swallowed hard. “I know it’s too dangerous.” I stared him in the eye. “Go with your people; the Grakkir cannot afford to shed any more blood.”

  “And if we do, it should be on the battleground.” Bjorn’s voice softened as he relinquished his hurt pride in favor of the wiser choice.

  I smiled and held out my hand. Bjorn and I clasped arms, promising to meet again on the battleground. The rest of us watched as they gathered their injured, mounted their horses, and thundered away into the forest.

  “They aren’t much for goodbyes, are they?” Bersi asked.

  “Grakkir Warriors do not believe in sentimentality.”

  Anza and Mjoll approached, and I watched as Anza leaned down to wipe her bloody sword on a dead City soldier’s leg.

  “You didn’t go with them?” I asked.

  She wrinkled her nose. “The west was not so interesting. I would rather go where the adventure is.” Her eyes twinkled when she smirked at me. “I would like to see these Domintia for myself.”

  I forced a pained grin and turned my attention towards the City. Beyond what had once seemed like endless trees stood the wall that divided us from them. Jenassa was hidden somewhere in that mysterious and deadly fortress, and she had been there this entire time. I didn’t have the faintest idea of how to get her out of there. What would happen to her now that they knew she was my sister? What would happen to me and everyone around me now that they knew I was the last Fire Bringer?

  “The General is dead,” Saven reminded me, touching my shoulder.

  “But what he stands for still lives. There will be consequences for my actions, and I fear for those who must bear them with me.”

  Saven hissed slowly and glanced around us. “They are not just your burdens to bear alone. We have many allies now. It’s our duty to lead them to victory, not a regretful end.”

  I lowered my eyes, feeling not exactly comfort, but something nearly as good. As I observed the activity around me, I felt purposeful and, for the first time in a long time, like I wasn’t alone.

  I took a deep breath, trying to ease the tension that filled my stomach. “Shall we begin?”

  Epilogue

  Heavy doors opened and four soldiers carried the General’s smoking armor into the lab. The Scientist took a step back and watched with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. Concern flitted across her face for only a moment before her expression darkened to disappointment.

  The Chancellor smiled kindly. “Put him there, please.”

  The men placed the General on an exam table. They stood in a tight line, showing neither fatigue from the battle, concern for their fallen leader, nor disgust at the stench that rose from his burned flesh.

  “You’re dismissed,” the Chancellor said.

  The men marched single file out of the room. The door closed loudly behind them, throwing the lab into a serene quiet punctuated by the occasional beep or blip from a machine.

  “Is he dead?” The Scientist took a few steps forward and peered at the General.

  The Chancellor leaned over the armor, his lips pressed into their usual tight smile. He prodded the broken helmet obscuring the General’s face. The heavy armor cracked and fell away, revealing bloodshot eyes that stared upward, screaming with pain. The General gasped and coughed. The Chancellor jerked away to dodge spurting blood.

  “Oh, I suppose he is still alive.” The Chancellor chuckled.

  The Scientist clenched her jaw tightly, gripping the packet of files she held in her arms.

  The General tried to speak, but the words were garbled and pained.

  “What was that?” The Chancellor leaned down.

  “He-help…me,” the General wheezed.

  “Ahh, you want help. I see, I see.” The Chancellor stood upright and surveyed the smoking armor, burnt and twisted until it nearly fell apart. As the General raised his arm, the armor cracked at the elbow. Curiously, the Chancellor took hold of it and pulled gently. The armor broke away and the General screamed as his red, bubbling skin met the cold air within the lab.

  “That does not look good,” the Chancellor observed.

  The General ignored him and turned to the Scientist. “Pl-please.” The General gasped and whimpered.

  The Scientist bit her lip and looked away.

  “Don’t worry, dear, I’ll spare you the pain of words,” the Chancellor consoled. He looked down at the General. “See, the time for sentimentality is over. You may love playing games and savoring the challenge of a hunt, but I am very old, and I have no time for such nonsense.” He walked to the other side of the table, watching the General’s eyes follow him. “You remind me so much of a cat playing with its food—mortally injuring a mouse it has no intention of eating. Me, on the other hand, I’m more like a viper. I like to strike fast and go in for the kill.”

  The General panted, struggling to raise his head.

  “No, no. It’s time for you to listen,” the Chancellor scolded, wagging his finger. “The way you handled the Fiero and the Grakkir was fun to watch but so impractical and wasteful of resources. This confrontation was pitiful—laughable, even. Though I suppose we learned some new information, I’ll give you that much.”

  The General tried to speak and coughed again. His eyes flitted to the Scientist, who avoided his gaze.

  “I don’t like to play with my food, General Balor. I like to eat it. Plain and simple.” The Chancellor finally stopped at the foot of the table.

  “Heal me, damn you!” The General shouted. He hacked up more blood. “Heal me and I will finish this!”

  The Chancellor flashed a smile and shook his head. “No, your turn is over. It’s time for a change of pace.” He snapped his fingers and the heavy doors opened.

  “Let go of me!”

  “Ah, this is the one.” The Chancellor walked over to the blonde girl with arms open, as though he intended to hug her. “Well, not the one, but the sister, correct?”

  “Jenassa,” the Scientist said, referencing the notes in her hand. “The subject’s older sister.”

  “Our subject, our elusive Fiero with Ancient Fire. What was her name?”

  “Valieri.”

  “Such pretty names.” The Chancellor gently touched Jenassa’s cheek. She recoiled and spat, but the spittle missed his face and landed on his lapel.

  The Chancellor glanced down, then at the Scientist. “What is with these Fiero and spitting?”

  She shrugged. “Not many can be as respectable as the City’s citizens.”

  “True, true.” The Chancellor beamed at Jenassa as though she were his own granddaughter. “If you thought the General’s art of war was impressive, just wait until you see what I’ve got in store for your sister and her friends.” He gently
touched Jenassa’s chin. “Don’t worry, you have a special role to play.”

  Jenassa opened her mouth to respond, but heavy chains clanked loudly in the back of the lab, followed by a ferocious roar and a clamor of footsteps. Voices chattered as a beast growled. Someone screamed in pain and the voices grew louder, barking orders to each other.

  The Chancellor sighed. “Attend to them, will you, dear?”

  The Scientist nodded and bustled away, more annoyed than concerned for her comrades.

  Jenassa trembled as she stared towards the source of the noise. “What is that? What are you going to do?”

  “Don’t you worry, young lady. You’ll only remember as much as I want you to.”

  “Bastard!” the General growled.

  The Chancellor stepped to his side again. “I suppose I should put an end to that foul mouth, shouldn’t I?”

  “Murderous bastard!”

  The Chancellor grinned, revealing rows of white teeth. “I learned from the best!” He pulled a knife from his side, ripped the General’s broken helmet off, and plunged the blade into his neck.

  Acknowledgements

  Many thanks go to the following:

  My friends and family who supported me on the first and second leg of this journey, as well as all the fans who championed Blood of Fire while waiting for Trail of Flames. Y’all are some patient folks!

  Endless thanks and love to my husband David, for his patience during interruptions to have random conversations about battle tactics, awkward dialogue, and whatnot.

  Much appreciation to my beta readers for their wonderful feedback and attention to detail: Rebekah, Amanda, Emma, Fallon, and Marissa (who also taught me about brevity). I’m also grateful for the support and community of 200 Rogues. Hoods up!

  This book would look far less professional without the help of a couple amazing folks. Firstly, my cover designer J. Caleb at J Caleb Design. Thanks for making Valieri look badass! Also, a tip of the hat goes to my editor Natalia Leigh of Enchanted Ink Publishing, for catching those silly typos I always miss.