by Trudie Skies
“It was an accident!” the boy yelled.
“If you’ve come ‘ere waving your swords, you best be waving them at him. There’s been fires all over, not that you Housemen care, so long as it’s not your homes burning.”
“He’s just a boy,” said Mina. “Let him go, and I’ll escort him away from here. No one need be harmed.”
The street rat spat. “Not good enough. Damn Fire Walkers ‘ave been burning people, not just homes! They burned a little girl until she was nothing but soot. Her da tried to find the burner who did it and they melted his eyeballs right out his sockets.”
Raj gasped. Alistar tried to disguise his gagging with a cough.
A tale spun to sow fear, no doubt, and it was working. “Saw this yourself, did you? Or are you parroting any old tale you hear?”
“It’s the truth!” He waved a man over. “Show ‘em your scar.”
One of the men raised his hand. In the light of the boy’s flames, the skin looked wrinkled, and some of the fingers curled in unnatural ways.
“See? A Fire Walker did that,” the street rat said triumphantly. “You let ‘em out. You let ‘em infest our streets. And we can’t tell who’s cursed with that gods-damn fire blood when they hide their damn marks. Could be anyone. How’d we know?
Her heart thumped. Not all Fire Walkers were good men—Saeed wasn’t—but none of the Fire Walkers she’d ever met went around deliberately burning people. If a Fire Walker had done that, then it was in self-defense.
Alistar nudged her side. “There’s too many,” he whispered. “We need to get out of here and let the guards handle this—”
“I’m not letting them hurt that boy.”
Raj cleared his throat. “Um, if you go to the Temple of Gai, they’ll bandage your hand.”
The street rats exchanged a glance. “Green Hands don’t help us. They don’t even give us water—”
“I’m a Green Hand. Tell them I sent you—Rajesh of House Enaibond. We’ll give you food, water, and salves if you leave this boy alone.”
Both she and Alistar stared at Raj. When had he grown into a man?
“And why should we trust you, Houseman?”
Mina sheathed her sword. “I swear to you. Release the boy and his mother to us, and we’ll go quietly. Don’t, and the full force of the King’s guards will march on these streets.”
The men muttered among themselves, considering her and Raj’s words. A hundred heartbeats thudded in her chest before they stepped aside and let the boy and his mother go.
The baker’s boy dulled his flames and ran to Mina. “Sand Dancer!” he exclaimed, and then clamped a hand over his mouth.
Too late.
The street rat cursed. “It’s that woman who won the tournament and freed them! This is all her gods-damn fault!”
The mob raised their weapons and stalked forward.
Mina grabbed the baker’s boy’s wrist and yanked him behind her. “Run!”
9
RIOT
Angry voices chased Mina through the alleyways.
Alistar took point, with Mina guarding the rear. The boy’s mother hoisted her skirts and ran faster than Mina anticipated, but the winding alleyways of the lower city impeded their pace. Mina could almost feel the hot breath of their pursuers.
“This way!” Alistar yelled, and they tumbled out into an open courtyard.
Wrong way.
Street rats blocked every exit, brandishing knives or wooden batons.
Raj nearly slammed into Alistar. “Oh Gai, what do we do?”
Mina and Alistar drew their swords and stepped in front of the baker’s boy and his mother, forming a human shield around them and Raj. The street rats edged closer. More had joined them—ten at least.
They were woefully outnumbered.
The street rats’ weapons were crude, but their eyes shone with rage and desperation. She knew well enough from her childhood on Khalbad’s streets what desperation could do to a man. Mina and Alistar couldn’t take them all on, nor was she keen on spilling blood. These were ignorant fools who’d yet to commit a deed worth blood as payment. She hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
“Get back in your temple, fire-breather!” One of the men threw a rock.
She side-stepped it with a quick hop. More rocks flew, forcing her group to shuffle closer to the wall. They were being penned in, and then she’d have little room to dance.
The boy’s mother shrieked as a rock pelted her shoulder.
Gods, Mina needed to get them out of here. “Ali,” she whispered. “I’ll cause a distraction. Get them to the Keep.”
Alistar jumped out of the way of another rock. “Stars above, I’m not leaving you to fend off ten men—”
“We don’t have time to argue. Trust me.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Give them what they want.”
Mina stepped into the center of the courtyard. She lifted Hawk into the Solaran stance. “You want fire? I’ll show you fire.”
She held up her left hand and bright orange flames burst from her flesh, filling the courtyard with Rahn’s fury. Her fire had never been this bright or easy to summon before, and she blinked at its raw intensity. Jonan’s blood still lingered in her veins, and it was his essence she’d summoned. The power of House Rhaesbond.
The men staggered back and cursed, as she’d expected. She didn’t give them chance to recover their senses. She spun her sword in a miniature whirlwind, allowing her flaming hand to trail Hawk’s silver with a tail of fire. The effect held their attention.
One man swung his wooden baton. She deflected the strike with ease, hacking the wood in half with her blade. Another baton came down next, and she set it alight with a single touch.
Some of the men scattered in fear. Others, the ones with real steel, remained. But enough of their number had run to give her friends a chance to flee.
The glint of a knife thrust toward her.
Mina evaded the blade and danced around its deadly jabs. Fighting off a knife was different than a curved blade, its movement more erratic. She knocked the man’s wrist aside with the flat of her sword and shoved her flaming palm against his chest.
His rags caught alight, and he fell back screaming.
A shadow came up behind her and she whirled around. The street rat with the shiv. He stabbed it at her chest. She raised Hawk, but not quickly enough. His knife sliced across her forearm, drawing blood. The embers in her gut pulsed, and her flames puffed out.
The man sneered. “Burners can’t burn without their blood, can they?” He thrust his shiv again.
She ducked under his arm. Another man grabbed her shirt and yanked her back. She tripped over her feet with a curse.
The street rat shoved her against a wall. The second thug grabbed her sword arm and bashed her wrist against the stone, attempting to pry away her blade. Dull pain throbbed through her hand, but her grip around Hawk tightened. A third man grabbed her other arm.
The street rat’s body heat pressed close. Hot, sour breath blew across her cheek and his filthy nails dug into her wrist. “You hiding marks under here, burner?” He leered and tugged up her tunic.
She stomped down on his sandaled foot. He howled and fell back, giving Mina room to drive her knee into the second thug’s groin. He released her wrist with a high-pitched whine, and she slammed Hawk’s pommel into his nose with a sickening crunch.
The third street rat skittered back, terror flashing in his eyes. She didn’t hesitate and ran for the nearest alley. Her heart pounded along with her feet as she raced down alley after alley. That was too close—she didn’t even want to think about what could have happened. Nothing as quick as death.
She spun out of another alley and leaned against a doorway to catch her breath. The lower city streets all looked the same and it was too dark to tell which direction she originally came from. She was running in gods-damn circles! Lune wasn’t out to g
uide her path; neither was Rahn. If she weren’t careful, she’d run straight back into her assailants. She tried to summon a flicker of flame, if only to guide her way, but the cut on her arm and her frantically beating heart made it impossible.
I am the master of my own self. Calm.
The blood bond tugged in her chest. Talin. His concern nudged her, even from this far away. None of her family were nearby, but she could sense roughly which direction they—and the Keep—were.
She followed the thread through dirty, cramped backstreets until they opened out into the colorful bunting of the Neu Bosan quarter. Shouts and noise came from ahead, but not the usual cheer of a living city at night. She jogged alongside the canal, heading north, and came out into the market quarter.
Her heart leaped to her throat.
A mob of city folk stomped through the streets, brandishing lit torches, swords, brooms, cleavers, anything that could be turned into a weapon. Hundreds of them. They marched north to the Keep, and their chants left her blood cold.
Bleed the burners. Bleed the Fire Walkers.
A group of them were dragging a dirty sack though the streets. No, not a sack—a man. His shirt had been ripped to shreds, exposing the red flaming tattoos of a Fire Walker, but the smeared dirt and dried blood made them difficult to see. The mob dragged his lifeless body by a rope around his neck, hauling it awkwardly over bumps in the road, and his dull eyes stared at nothing.
Gods no.
“Here!” a voice hissed. Alistar leaned his head out from the safety of an alleyway.
She rocked on her heels. Someone needed to go after them, stop them, burn the body—
Alistar grabbed her wrist. “It’s not safe out here.” He pulled her into cover before she could protest. “They’re after Fire Walkers.”
“How—how did this happen?”
“One of the street rats came running out of an alley with his clothes on fire, screaming about… well, you. That set the mob off. They…” Alistar ran a hand through his hair. “Stars above, I saw them lynch a man.”
This couldn’t be happening. “Did he attack them? The Fire Walker? Did he start this?”
“He didn’t burn, but he had tattoos, and that was good enough for them.”
“The city’s scared,” Raj whispered. “They heard about the Hartnords. They’re blaming the curse of House Rhaesbond—”
“Their foolishness is going to cost lives!” Mina leaned her head against the wall with a thunk. “We need to get back to the Keep and stop this.”
Alistar jerked his thumb over his shoulder to where the baker’s boy and his mother huddled beside a doorway. “We need to get them to safety first.”
The woman trembled, anxiety plain across her face, though the boy looked more annoyed than afraid. Mina couldn’t blame him there.
Raj took her arm and examined it. “You’re hurt.”
“It’s just a scratch. Where can we go from here? What about the tavern?”
Alistar shook his head. “I tried. They won’t take us. They’re scared, too—they don’t want a mob of angry Sandarians breaking down their doors.”
“What about the Temple of Gai?”
“Um, that’s not a good idea,” Raj said. “They’re not fighters. Someone could get hurt.”
“Temple of Lune?” Alistar offered.
“They wouldn’t take you,” the woman said behind them. “They won’t shelter men.”
“Then we have only one choice,” Mina said. “The only place Fire Walkers will be safe, and the one place not even that mob will dare enter.”
The Temple of Rahn.
The mother wrapped her arms around her boy’s waist. “You can’t mean to lock him back in there?”
“We’re seeking shelter, that’s all—”
“You took my boy away! You can’t take him again!”
The baker’s boy shrugged from her grip. “It’s fine, Ma. It’s not so bad inside.”
“It’s the safest place right now,” Mina said. “What’s your name?”
The baker’s boy rubbed his nose. “I’m Kamran.”
Mina forced a smile. “Well, Kamran, you stay close behind. I’m Mina, and these are my friends—Ali and Raj. They’ll keep you safe.”
Kamran nodded and dragged his ma along. With the mob in full force tramping through the market, they kept to the back alleys and shadows of townhouses. The sheer number and noise of the enraged crowds made it easy to steer out of their way.
Outside the Temple of Rahn, a handful of angry men threw rocks at the pyramid walls but they didn’t dare enter. She needed to sneak Kamran and his mother inside, somehow. Perhaps with another distraction.
“That’s the baker!” someone yelled. “He’s one of them!”
So much for a distraction. The mob turned on them. The bravest among them hurled a rock at Kamran’s head, missing by inches.
Mina cursed and drew her sword.
These men were no mere street rats. She recognized some of their faces. One was a merchant with a fruit stall in the market. Two were gardeners in the Keep. Another was a guardsman with a post in the Neu Bosan quarter. Their friendly faces and smiles were gone, replaced by a flame-lit mask of hate.
“In the name of the King, stop!” She tried to imitate Salasar’s commanding voice. “Look at yourselves!”
Their dark eyes didn’t see her. They didn’t see Tamina Arlbond, daughter of Lord Talin, sorran to the King. They didn’t see the Sand Dancer, winner of the Solaran Tournament. They didn’t see a person at all.
They saw a Fire Walker.
A monster.
Alistar drew his sword and stepped to her side. “I’m not leaving you this time.”
“Are you sure you want to get cut down protecting a Fire Walker?”
“Who said anything about protecting Fire Walkers? I just want to fight some Solanders.” His lower lip trembled, betraying his bravado.
The mob struck first, hurling stones and shards of broken pottery. A rock caught Mina on her sword arm, sending a spasm of pain. She yelped and dropped her sword.
Kamran ran to her side and picked up the rock. “Leave her alone!” He hurled it back at the crowd.
Another stone whooshed past and smacked into Kamran’s forehead. He crumpled to the ground. She grabbed him before his head hit the dust. Blood ran down his face, over his eye.
Gods, don’t let him have lost an eye.
“Bleed the burners!” a man yelled.
“Bleed their fire dry!” screamed another.
The mob marched right at them with relentless fury.
“Stop!” Mina called, but it was futile. They weren’t listening.
Alistar raised his sword into a block and stepped before Mina, planting himself between her and the mob, but there were too many of them. Raj pounded on the temple doors, yelling at them to open, as the mob inched closer.
What would these madmen do? Beat them. Lynch them. Hunt down every Fire Walker in the city. Prince Ravel didn’t need to enact laws when the people of Solus were ready to kill strangers in the streets for him.
A wall of fire erupted around them, forcing the mob back. Mina squinted as a flaming figure stepped through the wall, its body cloaked in red and orange.
“Jonan?”
The flames parted, revealing the woman underneath. Leila. “Get inside. Now.”
Mina didn’t need to be told twice. She grabbed her sword and awkwardly lifted Kamran to his feet. He roused, and she guided him to the temple doors as Alistar protected their rear. Leila wove her wall of fire, holding the shrieking mob at bay.
Men and women were gathered inside the main sanctum. Some were Fire Walkers who’d chosen to remain in the temple, but others wore clothes—Fire Walkers who’d left but had also been forced to seek shelter.
She helped Kamran to the stone steps and gently lay him down. His mother held his hand tightly as Raj examined the bloodied gash above his left eye.
/> Leila entered the sanctum, followed by a flurry of guards and a familiar brute wearing a turquoise sahn—the Sword of Solus.
The guards were dragging men inside. Not the mob, but people she recognized as Fire Walkers. Clothes hid their tattoos, but their short hair and terrified faces were plain enough.
Leila engaged Salasar in some heated conversation as more and more Fire Walkers were marched inside.
Mina jogged over to them. “What’s going on?”
“There you are,” Salasar said. “Talin’s looking for you. Wait until I’m done here, and my men will escort you to the Keep.”
“Done doing what?”
A woman yelped as a guard shoved her roughly. Mina turned to shout, but Salasar grabbed her arm. “This isn’t your jurisdiction, Arlbond.”
“And this isn’t your temple. There’s a mob out there! Shouldn’t you be waving your sword and breaking them up?”
“The mob isn’t my concern. I’m here under orders from the King.”
Dread washed over her like the cooling rains of Lune’s Shadow. “What orders?”
“All Fire Walkers are to return to the temple immediately. Those who resist will face the King’s justice.”
10
THE KING’S JUSTICE
The city guards dragged more men, women, and children into the temple. Fire Walkers. None refused—they remembered the old law and what would happen to them or their kin if they didn’t comply. None were angry, but they looked confused. Afraid. Sad.
These were Mina’s people and she couldn’t bear it.
Salasar marched back and forth, barking orders at Leila and his men. He ignored Mina, likely out of guilt, until she forced her way into his path. He came to a halt and cursed.
“For how long?” she demanded. “You can’t tell me the King has overturned the law over one incident?”
“One incident? That’s what you call the assassination of a king? It was the attempted assassination of a king by House Rhaesbond that led to Fire Walkers being banished to the temples in the first place. You think it’s so farfetched that another madman acting in their name wouldn’t have the same effect?”
