by Trudie Skies
If someone were trying to frame House Rhaesbond, then Rahn’s Breath would be an effective way. The plant was thought extinct, but Jonan had brought a few seeds to Arlent, where it now thrived and grew wild. She didn’t want to admit that to the Guardian of Gai just yet. Not when Prince Ravel seemed a fair more likely source. After all, the Prince had grown a small crop of Rahn’s Breath from the peppers he stole from her room, and who’s to say he didn’t hide away a few seeds when brewing his poison?
She opened her mouth to blame the Prince, then closed it again. There were incidents of Fire Walkers burning out of control even before the Prince had poisoned his own people on the Solend, such as Prince Rais’s injury… Could it be that the art of cultivating Rahn’s Breath wasn’t a secret that had belonged to House Rhaesbond alone? Alistar had recognized its flower from his books. She needed to ask him.
“I don’t know how or where it’s being grown, but we must spread the word. Make sure your Fire Walkers check their food and water for Rahn’s Breath. It has no taste except heat, but it smells like charcoal and smoke.”
“We appreciate the warning. So now I will ask again: what are your orders regarding my Fire Walkers?”
He wanted to help the Fire Walkers—and had done so. She couldn’t protect all the Fire Walkers alone. Jonan had said they needed allies. “Can they march to the Duslands?”
“But of course. The Emerald Path stretches west to Enais. Hana—Lady Enaibond—is an ally. She would grant them safe passage around the mountains. From there, they could find their way to Lune’s Path, avoiding Oramar. And once they reach the Duslands, where then?”
“Arlent.”
“Of course.” He waggled a finger. “I knew Talin was planning something, though I am saddened I had to drag you all the way here to get it out of you. Those Houses who support Khaled—the King—they are your allies. You know which ones can’t be trusted.”
House Khalbond and the Solander ones, bar House Sarabond, but even then… Talin’s dream made her wary of the Sword of Solus. “Send the women, the children, the old, and the lame. Ask for volunteers, any healthy young men, to stay behind. Some must reach Solus or the Prince will get suspicious.”
He inclined his head. “It will be done. And I thank you for your trust. I will send my best men to oversee their protection. Would you care for more tea?”
Mina held up her cup and the Guardian of Gai filled it. As she sipped, its warmth filled her chest with sweet honey and something far more satisfying. Progress.
33
WILDFIRE
Mina found Alistar slouching on a stone bench, staring up the road north. If Fire Walkers were being targeted by Rahn’s Breath, then her sorran could know who was growing it—and where.
“The western road heads to Gai’s End and Enais, where Raj comes from, but north…” Alistar sighed. “That’s my home. Myryn.”
She sat beside him. “We don’t have time to visit.”
“I know.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Did you speak with the Guardian of Gai? News from Solus travelled faster than we did, and the Council is none too happy with my House.”
“Did something happen?”
“In a manner of speaking.” His shoulders sagged further. “It’s the Three-Pointed Star. They’re rebelling.”
“The who?”
“It’s the name for the Neu Bosan council. We don’t have a king like Sandair. Instead, each of the three main isles is run by an elected leader, and those three decide the fate of all Bosan.”
A country not run by a king? “And that works?”
“For the most part. My father gets news from their council, but he doesn’t tell me everything. In the past, Neu Bosa has always dispatched its navy in defense of Sandair against Hartnord raids. Well, not this time. The Three-Pointed Star is refusing to support the war effort.” He laughed nervously. “It’s remarkable, really. The Three-Pointed Star has never refused Sandair. Stars, I didn’t think they had the guts to say no.”
His words stirred uncomfortable memories. Talin had mentioned something like this in her dream. The Council depended on Neu Bosan ships to help protect Solus and the Ruby Coast from invading Hartnords. From what she’d read of the last war, Hartnords were good in the water in a way they weren’t, but Neu Bosan were even better and their ships often helped shift the tide of battle. “Why now? Why won’t they help us in our time of need?”
“Because they’re cowards,” came a caustic voice from behind her. Garr. He leaned against a lamp pole, eyeing Alistar with an appraising stare.
Alistar straightened up from his slouch. “It has nothing to do with cowardice.”
Garr pulled an apple from his pocket and rubbed it down his shirt. “So let’s hear it from a Bosan.”
“You’ve heard the same news as I.”
Garr bit into the apple and spoke with his mouth full. “And I drew my conclusion: cowardice.”
“Or Neu Bosa finally decided to stand up for itself and refuse to bow to every demand Sandair makes.”
“Bosan can’t handle the heat. Shall I prove it?” Garr tossed the apple aside and positioned his fingers as though about to summon flame.
“Don’t you dare!” Alistar leaped off the bench and marched up to Garr with a hand on his sword hilt.
Mina stepped between them and put her hand on Alistar’s chest, pushing him back gently. “Will either of you explain?”
Garr smirked. “Neu Bosa has declined to offer their assistance against Hartnor whilst Fire Walkers are involved.”
Alistar threw Garr a look of contempt and stepped back, though he didn’t release his sword. “Are you surprised? Fire Walkers have always been used to threaten and control Sandair’s neighbors, and don’t forget it was a Fire Walker who started this mess. Neu Bosa doesn’t want to risk its ships or men fighting side by side with people who burn. So long as Sandair continues to use Fire Walkers, the Three-Pointed Star will withhold support.”
His words stung. Even the Neu Bosan didn’t trust Fire Walkers. “Do you think we want to be used as weapons in war?”
“Stars, Fire Walkers have always been weapons in war. Why do you think Neu Bosa always takes Sandair’s side in conflict? Out of fear! Two hundred years ago, they burned my people’s sacred forest so badly that we’ve bowed to every demand by a Sandarian king since. And in the last war, they destroyed so many Hartnord cities that they turned their fear of Fire Walkers into a gods-damn religion.”
She’d not read such deeds in her history books. They’d always framed the alliance between Sandair and Neu Bosa as mutually beneficial. Iman’s words echoed in her mind: Who wrote those history books?
“Sounds like Hartnor and Neu Bosa would make natural allies,” Garr said whilst tapping his chin. “Your people are one step from siding with the enemy, I’d say.”
“Oh, like an Ash Maker knows anything about Neu Bosa or Hartnor to make such accusations,” Alistar snapped.
“You act so righteous, demanding that Fire Walkers stand down, but your people have used Fire Walkers as weapons in the past. Go on, tell her about the slaves they keep in Neu Bosa.”
Alistar cringed.
She crossed her arms. “They keep slaves?”
“No!” He tugged his braid. “It’s not like that—”
“Then what, Ali? What?”
“In Neu Bosa, sometimes Fire Walkers agree to become servants under a contract. Only, those contracts aren’t always fair or easy to get out of—”
“They prey on people who’ve fled to Neu Bosa with nothing,” Garr said with an undisguised growl in his voice. “They offer them ‘contracts’ to work for rich families—contracts no one but the most wretched and desperate would ever sign. But in Neu Bosa, Fire Walkers have no choice but to sign away their freedom or starve to death in the streets. It’s slavery. All completely legal under the Three-Pointed Star.”
“Have you been to Neu Bosa? How would you know—”
“No, I’ve not travelled there, but I’ve talked to Fire Walkers who’ve escaped it. I’ve seen their scars and heard their stories,” Garr spat. “And so, Houseman, I have little respect for you and your posturing. There’s nowhere safe for Fire Walkers in this world—Neu Bosa would enslave us, Hartnor would kill us, and Sandair falls somewhere in the middle. Whose side are you on?”
Garr’s amber eyes shone with a fierce determination that awoke her inner embers.
He truly cared for the Fire Walkers. The first person she’d ever met outside House Arlbond to speak with such open defiance.
“I support her,” Alistar said, his voice little more than a whisper.
“Because she’s your master—”
“Because I choose to.”
Despite Alistar’s fears and discomfort with her fire, he’d remained by her side and travelled with her through the forests of Gaisland to help the Fire Walkers. To help her.
He’d done all that even though there was no sorran bond to compel him.
Because he was her friend.
She scowled at Garr. “Alistar is my sorran. I don’t appreciate your attempts at turning us against each other.” That’s what his game was: to turn her friends and her Fire Walkers against her for whatever petty or sinister reasons.
“I wouldn’t dream of it—”
“Good. I’d hate to think you’d disrespect your High Priestess.”
Garr swept a low bow.
Alistar smiled in thanks. The relief in his expression made her stomach flutter. She didn’t know enough about Neu Bosan culture to decide whether Garr’s words held any truth to them. An issue she’d rectify once she returned to Solus. But Alistar had chosen her. He chose to support the Fire Walkers. That was good enough.
If Neu Bosa didn’t want to support Sandair because they used Fire Walkers as weapons, then perhaps the Council could be convinced to withhold Fire Walkers from the front lines in exchange for Neu Bosan ships? Sandair needed ships more than blood fire. After all, in the heart of every Sandarian burned a warrior. A man without a sword couldn’t call himself a man. And battle ran through their blood.
Lord Nazim walked down the stone steps of his mansion and waved her over. “Ah, there you are. Would like to meet your Fire Walkers, Lady Arlbond? I was about to make arrangements for their travel if you’ll join me on the way.”
“I’d be happy to.”
Alistar stepped to her side, and Garr followed like a sulking fox cub with his tail between his legs. Together they strode with Lord Nazim through the markets toward the Temple of Rahn.
As they walked, a flicker of fire caught her eye. Tira waved from one of the market lanterns, as though trying to catch Mina’s attention. She pointed to the market, away from the temple, where wagons were gathered around a stockpile of crates and barrels. Tira wouldn’t have drawn her attention to them without good reason.
“What’s over there?” Mina asked Lord Nazim.
He glanced where she pointed. “Oh, those? That’s our first batch of supplies for the Ruby Coast. Food, grain, healing salves, all donated generously by the good Houses of Gaisland and organized by the Temple of Gai. It’s how we’ve always supported our kingdom in times of conflict. The Solanders send their horses and steel, the Duslanders send their muscle, and we send food and potions to keep everyone happy and healthy.”
She strode over to one of the wagons and examined it. Many were packed and ready to go. “Is this all of them?”
“Most of it. We had to gather the harvest early to fill them. There won’t be much left once Lune’s Shadow arrives.”
“You’re not worried raiders will loot them?”
“Not at all. They’ll be travelling with an armed guard, including whatever Fire Walkers we’ll spare.” Lord Nazim nodded to where a group of Fire Walkers had gathered by the wagons. She was about to approach them when she spotted something purple—a purple glass bottle. The same as she’d drunk from on the Emerald Path.
The bottle was tucked into an open crate—one of several lined up next to a half-filled wagon. No one waited nearby. Nothing else in the crate seemed remarkable: a mishmash of cooking utensils, small spice jars, and bottles of grapeseed oil.
She lifted the purple bottle, popped the stopper, and sniffed it. Charcoal.
Lord Nazim chuckled. “If you’re thirsty, Lady Arlbond, I’m sure we can procure more tea.”
“Rahn’s Breath.” She passed the bottle to Lord Nazim.
He took a sniff and recoiled. “We checked all the food and water at your suggestion—”
“Where did these come from?”
“I have no idea. These crates are part of the batch from House Myrbond.”
Alistar snatched the bottle and examined the bottom. “Do you have the shipping records, Lord Nazim?”
“Sort that out later,” she said. “We need to search every crate for bottles like this one, before someone—”
Flame burst from behind one of the wagons. Mina gripped her sword hilt and ran for the Fire Walkers.
“Mina, stop!” Alistar called. He caught up to her and grabbed her arm. “Think! There are healing salves in those crates. Flammable alcohol! We need to get—”
A rattling boom and a whoof of heat burst through the air.
One of the wagons exploded in a storm of fire and wood. Alistar shoved her to the ground and lay on top of her, shielding her from debris. Garr ran toward the explosion, but a wall of fire burst around them, knocking him back.
Lord Nazim had summoned a shield of flame. It flickered and pulsed, as though battling against the elements beyond it. He roared and kept his shield intact.
“Did anyone see where the explosion came from? Was it—was it a person?” Mina called.
“I don’t—” Alistar began to answer, but was silenced by another roaring explosion.
And another.
And a dozen more.
Lord Nazim waited until the last echoes of the explosions subsided and then his shield fluttered out. The taste of ash and death hung in the air. Alistar dragged himself off of her and hoisted her up.
She almost cried at the sight.
The wagons and crates were a smoldering heap of black ash and bright flame. Plumes of smoke twirled in the air and fell as black rain. The Fire Walkers and any other Gaislanders who’d stood nearby were gone. Burned to the ashes that fell.
Townsfolk screamed and ran.
Garr staggered to his feet. “How—how did this happen?”
Alistar smeared sweat and soot across his brow, staining his three silver star tattoos black. His face sagged. He’d never looked so terrified.
Lord Nazim was staring at his hands in shock. Both palms had been burned beyond mere blisters—white bone shone amid the pulpy flesh.
Oh gods. “He needs a Green Hand.” She took his arm and gently steered him from the chaos. He said nothing, too numb for words, as she guided him to the Temple of Gai.
Raj came running out and reeled at the sight of Lord Nazim. “Oh Gai, what happened?”
“My men,” Lord Nazim mumbled. “I must order—”
“I’ll go to them. Let Raj help you.” She passed Lord Nazim into Raj’s capable hands and jogged back to the market.
The fleet of wagons had been utterly destroyed, and the flames continued to burn, stubborn even against Fire Walker magic and Water Bearers. Garr worked with them and helped lift debris to search for anyone trapped underneath, but no bodies were found. No lives were spared. She flitted between piles of smoldering and flaming wreckage but discovered no trace of Shadows, and no purple bottles.
Twenty minutes later, Alistar found her slouched against the temple wall. “Those bottles came through Myryn from Neu Bosa.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I recognized the merchant’s mark.”
“Why would Neu Bosa grow Rahn’s Breath?” What use would anyone have for it… other than to poison, expose, or kill Fire Walkers?
“Rahn’s Breath
is illegal in Neu Bosa because it’s so dangerous… except for official use by the Three-Pointed Star.”
“What do they want with it?
He grimaced. “To test Fire Walkers.”
She crossed her arms. “Like you tested me.” Back during their Academy days, he’d once tossed a dried Rahn’s Breath pepper in her face in order to provoke a reaction. She’d almost forgotten the incident.
“We don’t have priests with blood fire to perform tests like you, nor do we have the Sight of the Hartnords. We just want a means of protecting ourselves, that’s all. Many Sandarians make their home in Neu Bosa. It’s a precaution.”
She wanted to scream at him. “How much of it do your people grow, and how is it controlled?”
He tugged his braid. “I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t. Rahn’s Breath is a closely guarded secret. Even the black market traders won’t touch it. I don’t understand how it even reached these shores.”
“But your House would know?”
“I don’t know. We check every ship that comes through Myryn, and those bottles were marked as coming through our port. But there’s no chance my House would purposefully allow it through. It would be a betrayal of the Three-Pointed Star. My father would lose all his business contracts and destroy everything he’s worked for his entire life.”
Mina turned to the wall where Tira waited within a lantern. Her mother looked grim. She’d known something was wrong. Perhaps she even knew the identity of those responsible, but Mina would have to wait until she was alone before she could question her mother.
If nothing else, she could at least be certain it wasn’t Prince Ravel. Mina doubted his reach extended this far into Gaisland, much less into Neu Bosa—and he definitely wouldn’t sabotage his own war effort by destroying these wagons. Someone else wanted to turn Sandair against its own people and cripple the kingdom as it marched to war.
Alistar leaned against the wall next to her. “If a Bosan is responsible for this, then I need to know. My father needs to know. It could damage our alliance, especially if the Three-Pointed Star is threatening to betray our treaties.”
