by Trudie Skies
“But my ma said we could return to our bakery after the war—”
“That big lady over there’s called Iman. She’s a baker, and she makes the best pies in all Sandair. We’ll have hundreds of new mouths to feed soon. She’ll need help baking if we’re going to feed them all.”
Kamran’s eyes lit up. “I can do that! I know what food Fez likes—he likes little crusts of bread—”
“Don’t give him too many of those,” Mina warned.
Kamran’s cheeks reddened. “No—no, I won’t, I swear.”
She gave him a gentle push. “Now go. Take him through the tunnel and find your mother.”
“Yes, Priestess.” He bowed his head. “Where’s Garr? Isn’t he coming, too?”
“Don’t worry about him, he’ll catch up.”
Kamran looked skeptical but carried Fez into the tunnel.
What would she do with the Ash Maker? She couldn’t offer him a place in Arlent. Jonan would never allow it, and Arlent was built by Lunei blood. She wouldn’t desecrate her mother’s home with his presence.
A warning seared through the bond. Someone had broken past Jonan and was coming. Mina placed a hand on Hawk’s hilt as the door flew open.
“What are you doing!” Samira shrieked.
Mina cursed and released her weapon.
“Stop this madness. Stop it now.” Samira grabbed Mina’s arm and pinched sharp. “Rahn curse you both! Don’t you know what this will do? They will be hunted down and killed for this! Every single one of them!”
“We’re saving them!”
Mina yanked her arm free.
“Saving them?” Samira snorted a laugh. “There is nowhere safe for our kind except the temple!”
“They can’t stay in the temple one way or the other,” Mina said. “The Prince has ordered every last one of them to march to the front lines. Women, children, all of them.”
Iman put on her calm voice, which was still twice as loud as Mina’s normal voice. “My House is willing to take in these Fire Walkers—all of them—and give them shelter, food, and a future where they may live in peace.”
“One House cannot do that alone.”
“Try us.”
“Samira, listen to me,” Mina said. “They chose to leave. Don’t take that choice—their freedom—from them. We won’t let anything happen to them.”
Samira slowly turned her gaze back to Mina and tears were in her eyes. “They’re my family,” she choked out. “They’re all I have. Saeed, he… Gods, I loved him. I loved him more than a brother, and he loved me—” She covered her mouth with a repressed sob. “I don’t know why he did what he did. The Hartnords were supposed to save us, to convince the King to return us back to where we belonged. Why would Saeed kill Reinhart? Why? Saeed loved this temple and its people more than anything. He had to think it was the right thing to do for our people.”
“Prince Ravel thinks he’s doing the right thing for his people to, by sending ours to die on the front lines. I’m sick of these men claiming to protect one people by imprisoning and slaughtering others. Saeed was wrong. What he did was evil.” Mina took Samira’s hand and met her eye. “You’ve got to let him go.”
Samira’s look of despair made Mina’s heart ache. “I only want to keep my family safe.”
Iman placed a hand on Samira’s shoulder. “In Rahn’s name, I pledge my blood to ensure their safety. Always.”
“Go with them,” Mina said. “Help us keep them safe.”
Samira looked startled. “Leave the temple?”
“There’s a temple in Arlent.”
“You—you would invite me to your home?”
“We’ll have hundreds of new Fire Walkers to care for. We’ll need all the help we can get.”
Samira bowed her head in submission. “Then I will go where my people need me.”
Mina almost laughed in relief. She never thought she’d see the day she’d win Samira to her side, but this was a win. At least now Mina didn’t need to worry about Samira betraying them.
No one had to die. And no one would be left behind.
Screams came from behind her.
From the tunnels.
Kasara stumbled out. “Hartnords!”
47
DEATH IN THE TUNNELS
Mina drew Hawk and raced into the tunnel. The first thing she saw was the half-naked bodies. Dead Fire Walkers. And standing over them, five Hartnord soldiers.
No, no, no!
Kasara slid to her side and drew her own sword, a plain blade that had likely never seen blood.
A Hartnord barked commands in their language and all five prowled forward.
“Back to the chamber,” hissed Mina. “There’s no room to fight here.”
The moment Mina turned her back, the Hartnords charged.
Mina and Kasara broke apart as they stepped through the doorway into the glass chamber, and the Hartnords raced between them, blades first. Pain in her leg flared, causing her to buckle and lose balance. She brought Hawk up in a hasty block, just as a Hartnord sword thrust for her heart.
Two of the Hartnords marched on her, swords out like spears. Mina bit her lip and swung Hawk to keep them at bay. The Hartnords wore leather armor disguised to look Sandarian, though their pale faces and straight-pointed steel were anything but.
Ahead of her, Kasara parried an attack from another Hartnord, but her sword arm shook between blocks and couldn’t find an opening to counter.
Heat burst from behind them. Mina ducked as a ball of flame shot at the nearest Hartnord, causing him to screech and drop to the ground in a roll. Samira! She threw flame after flame.
Iman followed, knife in hand, and dove at another Hartnord. The man had no chance to react as Iman barged him into the wall with her knife in his gut.
Samira hit another in the chest, distracting him enough for Iman to run her blade across his throat.
The two remaining Hartnords fled back into the tunnel, no doubt to warn their friends.
The Hartnord who fell to Samira’s flames still rolled on the ground. He fell still, suddenly aware he was now surrounded and outnumbered, and his Hartnord eyes—a dull blue—opened wide.
Mina pointed Hawk at the Hartnord. “You! I have a message for your gods-damn prince.”
He shuffled back until he reached the glass wall, all whilst babbling incoherent nonsense in his language.
Samira swaggered to Mina’s side, her fists still aflame. “He doesn’t understand you, which makes him useless to us. Shall I kill him?”
“No. We don’t kill unarmed men.”
Iman kicked one of the Hartnord swords across the floor. It slid to a rest against his boot. “There. He’s armed.”
Flame cracked from Samira like a whip and swallowed the Hartnord whole. He let loose a single ear-wrenching scream. Mina cringed and shielded her eyes. The light dimmed, leaving a blackened smear and a pair of smoldering leather boots.
Mina scowled. “Was that necessary?”
Iman gave her a flat look. “Honor will do nothing but get you killed, girl. Did we get them all?”
“Two escaped.”
Iman cursed. “We need to block these tunnels before more show up.”
Mina tightened the sash around her leg. It had started bleeding again. “How many Fire Walkers did they take?”
“Take?” Kasara asked.
“That’s why they’re here. To capture Fire Walkers and steal them away on their boats.”
“None that I saw,” Kasara said. “Most of the Fire Walkers fled toward the Temple of Lune. A dozen or so stayed with me to block the Hartnords from following as best we could. But they weren’t trained in combat, and—and they…” She fell silent.
Iman placed a comforting hand on Kasara’s shoulder.
Kasara breathed slowly in and out before continuing. “When there were just five of us left, we fled this way, toward the Temple of Rahn, hoping the Hartnords would fo
llow us instead of the main group. They took the bait. We were almost to your door when they caught up with us. The others… I was the only one who made it.”
“You should stay here with Samira and Jonan. Iman and I will search the tunnels. We have to make sure our people made it through to the Temple of Lune.”
“What if there are more Hartnords? I should go with you. I can still fight.”
Iman didn’t look convinced, so Mina answered. “Good. You’re with me.”
Mina limped to the tunnel, only to be pushed back by a gust of wind. “How…” she started to ask, but then she saw them.
Shadows stalked out from the tunnel, and they were none-too-pleased with their fate. A whirlwind spun around them, but the glass chamber was empty—nothing to form a body.
“Sand wraiths? Here?” Samira gasped.
“It’s her blood.” Iman nodded to Mina. “Lunei blood. It doesn’t just attract them. It awakens them.”
“Don’t blame me!” Mina snapped. As though hearing her voice, the Shadows turned and looked right at her. Even without bodies, they could still do harm—and she didn’t have the time or strength to placate angry spirits now. “We need to burn—”
Something smashed and Mina ducked, covering her head. It came from beside the tunnel where Leila’s old wooden bookcase stood. The jars of sand.
Each jar had been filled with a different color of sand representing the shifting moods of the Duslands. One by one, they fell and smashed to the ground, scattering glass shards and sand, and the wraiths began to take form.
“Burn the bodies!” she yelled.
Samira was there in an instant with her flame. “I’ll handle them. Get into the tunnels and stop those Hartnords!”
Mina beckoned Iman and Kasara to follow and they charged through the miniature sandstorm as the wraths were still forming bodies. No more Hartnords yet, thank Lune, but they could be waiting in ambush. She needed to tread carefully.
“I’ll take point.” Iman snapped her fingers and summoned a bright flame.
These were the same tunnels Mina had almost lost herself in at the start of Rahn’s Dawn during the Solaran Tournament. Fortunately, Iman’s light shone brighter than her own and she led them with confidence from tunnel to tunnel.
Their footsteps echoed to the beat of Mina’s own heart. Her leg ached, then throbbed, then burned as they kept walking. She didn’t want to slow down the search, but she was close to collapsing when they came to a fork in the tunnel.
“This is where we first saw the Hartnords. They came from that tunnel.” Kasara pointed to the right. “The temple is the other way. And… there are bodies.” Her eyes went to Mina.
Iman huffed. “Best not let you near any more bodies today, girl. I’ll burn them, then head on to the temple. Someone needs to find out where this other tunnel leads, and there’s no one else for it but you two. But be careful. If you see any Hartnords, don’t go rushing into a fight. Keep an eye on them, and that’s it. Samira and I won’t be around to save your worthless scalps if they come rushing at you with swords.”
Mina rolled her eyes, hoping Iman could see it in the dimly lit space. Then she led Kasara down the right tunnel.
“It could be a trap,” Kasara whispered, close at her heel.
It almost certainly was, but that didn’t stop Mina from steering down it.
This tunnel was narrower than most, and she needed to angle her sword to keep it from scraping the walls. She summoned a faint glow in her fingers, which was enough to forge ahead. The pathetic, flickering light embarrassed her. She was supposed to be the High Priestess, the Sand Dancer, and it was all she could do to prevent herself from toppling over or walking straight into a wall.
“I, uh, I can normally make more light than this.”
“I can see well enough,” Kasara said with cheerful reassurance. Her scabbard was making an odd rattling sound.
Mina tuned her light around. Kasara’s hands were shaking. “Are you okay?”
Kasara looked startled. “Oh. Forgive me, I…” She released her sword hilt and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “I’ve never done that before. Fought in a real battle, I mean. It was a lot more chaotic than I expected. Not like the duels I watched in the tournament.”
“For your first battle, you fought better than I.” Mina resumed her slow, limping pace.
Kasara shuffled after her. “Ah, but you’re injured. Perhaps you need a sorran, Lady Tamina.”
“Are you volunteering?”
“Are you looking for one?”
The path suddenly lurched downward, and Mina skidded to keep her balance. A light shone ahead.
Rahnlight.
They emerged out onto a stone rampart overlooking the docks, not a canal as she’d been expecting. She was no stoneworker, but the slender entrance to the tunnel looked freshly chiseled—white, rough, and unweathered. How long had the Hartnords been planning this attack?
It was her fault if Emir and his men had been hiding in plain sight and spying on them. She’d insisted on allowing Fire Walkers to dress as they pleased.
“There!” Kasara pointed to a pier at the far side of the docks.
Two huge ships were hoisting large white sails, preparing for launch. Hartnord ships. Mina scanned the docks. All of the usual fishermen and traders were gone, of course, per the King’s orders for the Hartnords’ visit. But where were Salasar’s men? Shouldn’t they be storming the docks by now, after the violence at the Neu Bosan embassy?
Gods damn it. She’d sent Salasar running off to the Keep, hadn’t she?
Few guards patrolled the docks, and none Sandarian. Neu Bosan guards. Hiram’s men.
She grabbed Kasara’s arm and pulled her down behind a wall. Neu Bosan guards marched by, and with them… Hartnords. A whole group in silver armor were marching to the ships, escorting five men in chains.
Her acolytes.
Dahn, Bahri, Qareem, Amin, and Marek trudged along with iron chains binding their legs and arms. How had they been caught so easily, and why weren’t they using their blood fire to resist? Unless they’d been poisoned with Lune’s Tears.
Gods, they were being shipped to Hartnor.
If Hiram had cleared the docks of all guards but his own, then he could easily reach the harbor chain and lower it. “Find Salasar,” whispered Mina. “He needs to get his men here now. We can’t let the Hartnord ships get away.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll try and get a little closer. I can’t run with this leg, but I’ll stay out of sight.”
Kasara nodded and carefully shuffled along the dock wall.
Mina copied, but in the opposite direction. She edged her way down the dock steps and headed for the Hartnord ships. Could she disable them somehow? She knew nothing about giant ocean galleons, except they were usually made of wood. A little fire could go a long way, assuming she could reach them before her acolytes were brought aboard.
She risked a glance over the wall to see if there was any way to approach without getting caught. How far did Hartnord Sight extend? It was one of many questions she wished she could have asked Gareth.
No. Reaching the ships was a fool’s dream. Running back to the tunnels to find Iman or anyone else was just as ridiculous—her acolytes would be gone with the Hartnord ships long before she could hope to return with help.
Her best bet was to buy Kasara as much time as possible to find Salasar and stop them from lowering the harbor chain. But how?
She grabbed a rock about the size of her fist and stood up. She hurled it at the closest silver giant and it pinged right off his armored head.
“Get your hands off them!”
The Hartnords turned, but none reached for their weapons. The one she’d hit with the rock pulled off his helmet and casually inspected it for dents. Then he looked up at her with a smile—what was he smiling about?
“We run into each other again, my lady. How fortunate.”
Prince Wulfhart stood with Falkner amid another group of his silver giants. At least ten of them, maybe more. Falkner issued a command in Hartnord and the guards spread out, blocking all paths of escape.
She was trapped.
“Don’t come any closer.” She drew Hawk into the Solaran stance.
Prince Wulfhart’s gaze trailed down to her bleeding leg. “All it takes is one wound to stop your fire magic, doesn’t it? Then this will do the rest.” He pulled a vial from his pocket. “And we’ll see how you look in chains.”
The image of Samira wrapped in chains in a dungeon cell as leeches sucked her life’s blood made Mina’s own blood run cold. She could try to burn—burn them all and run, but she’d never mastered her fire when wounded.
Not even Lune could get her out of this alive.
“What are you doing with my Fire Walkers?”
“Taking them to Harvera to test Lune’s Tears, as I have already explained, my lady.”
“You’re a gods-damn fool if you think you’re leaving these docks.”
“Your attempts to waste my time are valiant, but pointless. I see your every thought as plainly as I see your face.” He tapped at the corner of one silver eye. “You hope to delay us while the guards raise the harbor chain. They will not.”
“What did you do to them? Are they dead?”
“Why would we kill Lord Hiram’s own men?”
“Lord Salasar is responsible for the city guard, not Hiram Myrbond.”
“Come now. You don’t expect us to trust our lives and security to your Sword of Solus after what happened to my father on our last visit to your city, do you? Fortunately, the Neu Bosan ambassador came forward with the perfect compromise. Not only would he open his embassy to serve as a neutral meeting place, but he would also assume personal responsibility for the security of the docks, our delegation, and our ships.”
No wonder Salasar’s men were nowhere to be seen. She hadn’t had time to warn him about Hiram’s treachery at the embassy. She’d been too distracted worrying about the temple and protecting her House’s own treason.
