Burning Bright (8 page)

Sliding through the window, Raz began to throw whatever supplies came easily to hand into a satchel. "Pechal! Wake up! Pechal!" When the pile of blankets did not so much as twitch, Raz finished stuffing things into the satchel and stomped over and yanked the blankets away. "Fire and ash, Pechal! It's time to go."

Pechal groaned, looking so sleepy and rumpled and miserable that he looked fourteen rather than eighteen. More than once it was Pechal's ability to look young and helpless that had gotten them out of a fire; unfortunately, it also just made Raz more protective. Pechal was entirely too nice for a street rat most of the time. "I don't want to go anywhere," he whined and tried to fumble for the blankets.

Raz slung the bag across his chest, settling it comfortably, and then bent and yanked Pechal to his feet. They'd find him new shoes later. There just wasn't time right then. "Fire and ash, Pechal, the High Priest is here, and if he finds you—" He broke the sentence off because he just couldn't stomach saying it.

"What are you going on about?" Pechal asked, staring at him blankly. "I don't care about the scorching High Priest."

"We have to go," Raz whispered and did not give Pechal a chance to argue, just dragged him to the window.

But when they reached it, Pechal sank to the ground with a groan. "I can't do the wall, Raz. I can barely stand upright. What's wrong with me? I've never felt like this before, and it won't go away."

Tears stung Raz's eyes. "It will never go away," he said, choking on the words. "It's happening because you're a Vessel, Pechal. It won't stop until they—they—" He couldn't say the words, he just couldn’t.

Pechal's head snapped up, and Raz saw the horrified comprehension fill his eyes. Pechal began to cry. "I'm not! I'm not! You can't let them—Raz—"

"I won't," Raz said, and he bent to pull Pechal to his feet. He hugged Pechal tightly and drew back enough to press a quick, reassuring kiss to his mouth. "I won't let them kill you, Pechal, I promise." Pechal just trembled against him, and Raz bit back his frustration and despair. Panicking would not help anything; he needed to think.

They definitely could not go down the wall, which meant they would have to find another way out of the cathedral. As much as he preferred the street rat method of 'hide!' that just would not work. Their only chance was to get out of the city, and quite possibly out of the country—but that would take more money than they had at present. He needed to get Pechal somewhere he could hide long enough for Raz to obtain the money. He would also have to arrange passage, which would be easier said than done since there weren't many passenger ships and even fewer trading vessels willing to take on passengers.

Biting his lip, he put that worry aside for the far more immediate problem of getting them out of the cathedral. "You're supposed to be safe, you scorching pile of rocks," he muttered. "Come on, Pechal. If we can get down to the kitchens we can slip out that way. Just stay strong for a little while, all right? For me."

"For you," Pechal whispered and pushed away to stand on his own.

Slowly, far too slowly for Raz's peace of mind, they made their way through the attic levels and down to the bedrooms. It seemed to take three times as long to reach the mezzanine level, and Raz had to grit his teeth against an urge to scream, grab Pechal, and run.

He let out a sigh when they finally reached the bottom of the back stairs and saw the door to the kitchen at the end of the hall. "Come on, Pechal," he said softly, taking Pechal's hand and holding it tightly.

They'd made it halfway down the hall when their luck was finally snuffed, and the doors that led to the sanctuary burst open, the hall filling with four guards and the cold-looking Duke of Alkaev. His eyes glowed brilliant gold as he stared at them. "The Vessel," he said, eyes fastening on Pechal, and he motioned the guards forward.

"No!" Raz bellowed and tried to make a run for it—but only wound up falling to his knees, suddenly too weak to move. "No!" he said again as the guards grabbed Pechal and carried him away. "Let him go!" he screamed and barely noticed when the guard abruptly released him.

He ran, following the guards who had Pechal, barely noticing that the Duke of Alkaev stood motionless as Raz raced by him.

Someone else tried to grab him, and Raz swung, fist slamming into the priest's nose. Shoving him aside, Raz kept running, knocking four more priests and a guard out of his way before he finally burst through the door that led to the altar.

"Pechal!" he screamed, seeing him kneeling at the altar, right at the top of the steps that led down from it. Racing toward him, shoving and knocking aside anyone who got in his way, Raz ran up to Pechal, grabbed him, yanked him back—

—And froze when someone abruptly appeared in front of him. Raz looked up into eyes the color of smoke that glowed ever so faintly with magic; they were set in a sharp, handsome face framed by close-cropped, wispy black hair. A face Raz would swear he had seen before. A face that, for no explicable reason, made him start crying.

The man's face went white while he stared at Raz, and for some reason that just upset Raz more. He tried to speak, but realized he couldn't. He swallowed around the lump in his throat and licked his dry lips. He tried again to speak, and the words finally broke free. "Why?" he asked, voice trembling. "Who are you, and why does looking at you hurt?" His eyes blurred with more tears, and Raz wiped them away, and in that brief lull he was reminded of the trouble he was in.

"Seize them!" the Duke of Alkaev called from behind Raz.

In front of him, the man he suddenly realized was the High Priest lifted a hand, his eyes glowing brilliant, sunshine gold with magic.

"No!" Raz screamed, the words crashing through the cathedral and followed immediately by the sound of shattering glass. Around him people screamed in panic, but Raz didn't wait to see who had done what, just turned, grabbed Pechal, and ran.

Nobody stopped them as they ran back the way they'd come, and then down the hall to the kitchens. In the kitchens, Raz grabbed loaves of bread and a hunk of cheese as he saw them, but did not slow his steps. At the very back of the last room, he threw open the door and dragged Pechal out—

—And nearly crashed into two women waiting just outside with their swords drawn. Clearly, they had been about to go inside. "Raz! Thank the dragons you're safe." Shoving her sword back into its sheath, the lavender-haired woman dragged him close to embrace him tightly.

Raz let her for a moment, but then pushed away. "Shio! Shinju! What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," said Shinju, running a hand impatiently through her short green hair. "Come on, we have to get out of here."

"You're telling me," Raz said. "Pechal is the Vessel; we have to get him out of here before they kill him. I can't let them do it, I just can't!"

"Shh, little bird," Shinju said, stroking his cheek. "Let's go, we will sort everything out later."  She led the way to where three horses were waiting and helped Raz get Pechal up on one. "I'll ride with Pechal."

"Thanks," Raz said, relieved. He could barely stay on a horse, let alone keep someone else on it with him—especially Pechal, who passed out almost as soon as Shinju mounted behind him. Holding on tightly, Raz followed them out of the courtyard, focusing on nothing but them as they led the way out of the city.

He kept waiting to hear the cries to halt, to feel pain as he was attacked by magic—something, anything. But no one came after them, and when they finally stopped in the woods outside the Heart several minutes later, he started shaking so hard he could barely stay in the saddle.

Wiping his face, he looked over at Pechal still slumped back against Shinju. "What am I going to do?" he asked no one in particular. "I can't let them kill Pechal; I don't scorching care if he is a Vessel!"

Shio and Shinju spoke to each other in words he didn't understand, but assumed were some Kundouin dialect. "We know a place to hide, rest for a bit," Shio finally said. "It's a few hours from here in a little village on the other side of the forest. We will figure out what to do once we are there." They shared a look again, and normally Raz would have been dead curious about the silent conversation they were having, but right then he was too tired and scared and confused to care.

He urged his horse into motion when Shio and Shinju did, riding along numbly, trying to sort his thoughts out—but his thoughts were mostly comprised of questions that had no answers, which made sorting it all out impossible.

How had they gotten away? How was he going to save Pechal?

Why had seeing the High Priest like that shaken him so badly? Who was he that he looked familiar? Why did looking at him make every part of Raz ache with pain, with … something that felt a lot like loss. That made no sense. He had never met the High Priest in his life. Why would seeing him make Raz feel as if he had lost something?

*~*~*

It was midday when they finally left the forest behind and reached the promised village, but Raz was so exhausted that it felt as though it should have been late evening. He more fell off his horse than properly dismounted, and did not protest when Shinju ushered him into the tavern and to a table all the way in the back—and near a door so that it would be easy to flee if necessary.

Slumping on the table, he slipped into a doze. The smell of food a few minutes later made his stomach growl, and he groaned in protest when a sharp-nailed finger poked him hard in the side. "Mrgh. Snuff it."

"Sit up and eat," Shinju chided. "You need to replenish the energy you wasted on magic."

Raz lifted his head just enough to scowl. "Magic? I can't use magic. What are you talking about?"

"I know the signs of magical over-exertion when I see them," Shinju replied tartly. "I don't know what you did in the cathedral, but everyone in the city must have felt the reverberations."

"Wasn't me," Raz muttered, but conceded defeat and obediently sat up, pulling the bowl of stew Shinju pushed toward him closer. "Where's Pechal?"

Shinju sipped at her beer and said, "Shio took him upstairs. She'll stay with him, so stop fretting for a few minutes and eat. You'll be of no use to anyone if you can't even stand, little bird."

Raz obediently wolfed down his food, consumed once more by his whirling thoughts. They flickered between worry for Pechal and confusion over the High Priest. Dym, he thought, the High Priest's name was Dym.

Why did that sound so achingly familiar, like a name he'd never forgotten and yearned to say again? He'd heard the High Priest's name in the past and never marked it. Why now? What was going on? "I think I'm losing my mind," he whispered.

Shinju moved closer, slid an arm across his shoulders, and lightly stroked his hair with her other hand. "Shh, little bird. All will be well."

Raz laughed bitterly at that. Pechal was a Vessel, they were on the run, and if they could not get out of the country Pechal was going to die. The High Priest had done something to Raz, and every time he thought of the man he started crying again.

Fire and ash, nothing was well, and he could not see how it ever would be.

He stood up, shoving Shinju's hands away when she tried to stop him. "I'm going to see Pechal." Not waiting for her reply, he strode up the stairs and poked around until he found Pechal and Shio. "I'll sit with him," he said. "You should go eat with Shinju."

Shio nodded, kissed his cheek, then slipped out of the room. Raz sat down on the side of the bed, and mustered a smile as Pechal slowly opened his eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Awful," Pechal said. "I'm a Vessel."

Raz nodded, unable to speak. He gently combed through Pechal's hair. "I won't let them have you. We've been through too much, you and me, to let anything happen to us now. You're my family. We'll get our house and stop being thieves and everything will be fine."

"Definitely," Pechal said, smiling at him, looking so young and fragile that it left Raz once more at a loss for words.

What would he do without Pechal? Why would anyone want to kill Pechal, who was sweet and earnest and only a thief from necessity-and stubbornness, because Raz knew people had offered to take Pechal in and give him honest work. Pechal stuck with it because of Raz, because if they couldn't be honest citizens together then they would be thieves together.

Raz could not repay that loyalty, that love, by letting Pechal go to the Fires. "Get some sleep, you. Everything will be better in the morning. We'll come up with a plan."

Pechal started to reply, but sleep stole him first, and Raz watched him until his own eyes could no longer remain open.

Ivan reluctantly sat up in bed, mourning the loss of warmth when Ailill rolled over with a grunt and settled back into sleep. Sighing, Ivan climbed out of bed and slowly went around the room retrieving his hastily discarded clothes. When he was dressed, he sat down to pull his boots on, and then buckled his sword belt into place and made certain the blade fell as it should. Once his sword was secured, he strapped another dagger to his right thigh, tucked a smaller one into his boot, and finally swung his cloak over his shoulders and pulled on his leather gloves.

He glanced toward the bed and felt a sudden impulse to kiss Ailill goodbye. Ignoring it as any stupid impulse deserved to be ignored, Ivan slipped away as quietly as he could in the creaky inn and went downstairs to where his men already waited in the entry hall.

Isidor's fingers moved, just visible in the light of a street lantern just outside the front window.
Ready to go?

Ivan nodded and led the way outside, keeping a sharp eye out for guards. The entire city had been in an uproar since someone or something had severely damaged the Cathedral of Ashes. Ivan hadn't been able to get close enough to see for himself, but he had heard that none of the windows remained intact and nearly all the internal walls were cracked. Some said it was only a matter of days before one of the damaged spires finally surrendered and collapsed entirely.

He was more concerned by the fact that he knew Raz and Pechal lived in the cathedral, and Raz had been upset about something that very same day. Just minutes after he'd left them at the teahouse the Heart had gone ablaze with panic. Ivan had a sneaking suspicion he knew what was wrong, but it seemed too surreal to believe.