Fire Study (44 page)

Marrok engaged in the grim task of burying bodies.

“Guess I slept through the battle,” he said. “Did we win?” He inclined his head to

Tauno. “Or lose?”

“Both,” I said. My anguish over Valek threatened to push from my throat. I bit

down hard on my lip, tasting blood.

“Care to explain?”

I filled him in on what had happened. He accepted Tauno’s betrayal with a

cynical snort and a wry twist of the lips that reflected his black thoughts about trust.

After I finished, he said, “At least your little friend is all right.”

“Friend?”

He pointed to a nearby tree. “I thought he was dead, but when I went to pick him

up he flew off. Scared the heck out of me.”

I went over. My bat hung upside down on a low branch. The creature opened an

eye halfway then closed it again, contented. Somehow I had created an emotional

link with the bat that was similar to my link with Kiki.

Contemplation about my affinity for animals would have to wait, though. More

pressing matters needed to be addressed—finding Valek’s body, for one. But I said,

“We have to find a safe place for the Councilors’ family members.”

Bavol Zaltana’s daughter, Jenniqilla, pulled at my cape. “I want to go home,” she

said. Although happy to be free, sadness touched her eyes and weariness lined her

young face.

I crouched down next to her. “I know, but I need you to pretend you’re still a

hostage for just a little while longer. It’s really important. Can you help us out?”

Determination filled her eyes, reminding me of Fisk. I assigned all the older

children small jobs, and they moved about with a renewed sense of purpose.

“What about me?” Kell Greenblade asked.

The Greenblade lands were east of Bloodgood’s. “Do you know anyplace where

we can hide all of you?”

He gazed off into the distance. Tall and wiry, he resembled my friend, Dax,

another member of his clan. I hoped Dax and Gelsi were all right, and the thought of

them being the next victims of the Kirakawa ritual made me restless to get moving.

Kell sensed my mood. His attention focused on me. “My sister has a farm

outside of Booruby that could hold all of us.”

“In the Cowan Clan’s lands?”

“Yes.” He tsked. “She married a flatlander, but he’s a good man and will help

us.”

I looked at the ragtag group of children. Booruby was farther east than I had

wanted to travel and it would be a slow trip.

Kiki nickered at me. Get wagon, she said.

The wagon was burned in the fire.

I felt her huff of impatience. Horses run off. Take wagon.

Where are they?

Stuck. Come. Kiki flicked her tail.

Marrok came with me. We mounted Kiki and she went southwest through a small

wood.

What about Onyx and Topaz? I asked her.

I felt her sorrow. Can’t smell.

We reached the wagon. When the fire had erupted, the panicked horses had

bolted through the woods until the cart wedged between two trees. The animals had

calmed, but their raised heads and alert ears meant they felt unsafe.

The wagon had been filled with empty coffin-shaped crates, but we found a

toolbox underneath the floor. Getting the wagon free was difficult and

time-consuming.

While fixing the broken wheel, Marrok lost his patience and shooed me away.

“You’re rushing and making it worse. Go take a walk, Yelena. This is a one-person

job anyway.”

When I hesitated, he added, “Go look for him or you won’t find peace. And we

won’t either.”

Being busy had been good. Walking through the quiet forest, there was nothing

to distract me from my flaming thoughts. No respite from the wrenching pain deep

inside me. It felt as if I had swallowed a red-hot coal.

The barn’s ashy remains drifted in the air. Only a few beams at the edge of the

structure retained their shape. Everything else had been reduced to gray and white

cinders. Smoke curled from a few hot spots, but otherwise a pine-scented breeze

blew the acrid fumes away.

The crunch of my boots on the residue echoed a lonely and final sound in my

ears. All hope disappeared when I found Valek’s knives. Blackened and misshapen,

the blades were half-melted. I collapsed to my hands and knees and sobbed, turning

the ash under me into slurry. Gasping, ribs aching and throat raw, I tried to expel the

smoldering sadness within, only stopping when all moisture was gone from my

body. I sat back on my heels and wiped my face, smearing soot and tears.

Once my breathing returned to normal, I scooped up a handful of the ash near

Valek’s weapons and let the wind scatter them. Soon, love. I’ll join you soon. The

knowledge of our reunion in the other world was my only comfort.

Eventually I returned to Marrok. He had fixed the wheel. After looking at my face,

he squeezed my shoulder. I had washed off the dirt, but I knew my eyes were red

and puffy from crying.

Marrok steered the wagon, but finding a road around the wood used up our

remaining daylight.

By the time we returned to the camp, Kell had settled the children next to the fire.

I wanted to wake everyone and get moving, but Kell convinced me the children

would be upset by being roused and hidden in those crates at night. After recalling

my own horrible experience with the boxes, I agreed.

If Valek hadn’t shot the Warper, I would have been shoved inside one of those

crates. The Councilors’ families would still be hostages, but Valek and Gale would

still be alive.

I stared at the sleeping children. Jenniqilla had a protective arm over Leevi and the

baby curled next to him, sucking on his thumb even while asleep. In that state, they

embodied innocence and peace and joy and love. Valek had known the risk when he

went into the barn and he hadn’t hesitated. I would have done the same. Eleven living

beings for one unselfish act. Pretty good odds.

Even with the wagon, the trip to Booruby lasted four days. Four days of worry,

frustration, hunger, sleepless nights and noise. By the time we arrived, I had a new

appreciation for parents, and was as glad to see Kell’s sister as she was to see us.

She wrapped Kell in a tight embrace for many heartbeats. I bit my lip and turned

away. My empty arms ached.

Located about two miles south of Booruby, the farmstead appeared to be

isolated from its neighbors, but her husband was quick to usher us inside. The

children were fed their first hot meal in weeks. Marrok and I made plans to return to

the rendezvous location to join the others. I kept my mind focused on action;

otherwise, I knew I would surrender to the grief consuming me from the inside out.

We would risk crossing through the western edge of the Avibian Plains. Garnet

and Kiki’s gust-of-wind gait would make up for the time lost traveling to Booruby.

Before leaving, Kell asked me, “How will I know when it’s safe for the children

to return home?”

I considered. “If everything works out, you will receive a message.”

“And if it doesn’t work out?”

Emotion choked his words, reminding me that his wife was one of the

Councilors. If I failed, she would be among the first of many casualties.

“If you don’t hear anything after fourteen days, that means the Daviians are in

charge. Send the children to their homes and hope.”

“Hope for what?”

“Hope a person in the future will be strong enough to rebel against the Daviian

Vermin. And win.”

Kell looked doubtful. “We have four Master Magicians and a Soulfinder, yet they

still managed to take control.”

“It has happened before. One person can bring peace to Sitia.”

I didn’t add that the man had leveled the Daviian Mountains in the process. But it

did lead me to wonder if the Sandseeds’ legendary warrior had had help. My mind

reviewed Moon Man’s story about the origins of the Sandseed Clan and I

remembered the warrior’s name was Guyan. Guyan had imprisoned the Fire Warper,

and his descendant, Gede, had freed him. A complete circle.

Marrok and I said goodbye to Kell and the children. We traveled northwest,

planning to skirt Booruby on our way to the plains. My little bat hung from Kiki’s

mane and didn’t appear to be bothered by the jostling motion.

Our plans changed when I spotted Opal’s family’s glass factory in the distance

and I had a sudden idea.

Before I could fully explore my intentions, we stopped outside their gate. Marrok

accepted our detour without concern.

“Should I wait here?” he asked.

“Yes. I won’t be long.” I left Kiki with him.

As I approached the door to their house, Opal came out of the factory. She

hesitated, but drew nearer, eyeing Marrok and me with suspicion.

“Can I help you, sir?” she asked me.

I had forgotten all about my hair. At least I knew my disguise worked. I smiled

for the first time in days.

She squinted at me. “Yelena?” Then she glanced around in concern. “Come

inside! There’s a price on your head!” She ushered me into the house.

“Thank goodness you’re okay.” Opal squeezed me in a quick hug. “What

happened to your hair?”

“It’s a long long story. Is your family around?”

“No. They went into town. Father received a shipment of sand that was full of

rocks so he went to complain and Mother—”

“Opal, I need more of your glass animals.”

“Really? Did you sell the bat?”

“No. However, I discovered I can use your animals to communicate with other

magicians far away without using my own magic. I’d like to buy as many as I can.”

“Wow! I never knew.”

“How many do you have?”

“Six. They’re in the factory.”

She set a quick pace as we crossed the yard and entered the factory. The heat

from the kilns sucked all the moisture from my mouth. I followed her through the

thick air and roar of the fires. Lined up on a table by the back wall were half a dozen

glass animals. They all glowed with an inner fire.

Opal wrapped the animals and I counted out coins. Another idea flashed in my

mind when she handed me the package.

“Can you show me how you make these?” I asked.

“It takes a lot of practice to learn.”

I shook my head. “I just want to watch you make one.”

She agreed. Picking up a five-foot-long hollow steel pipe, she opened the small

door to the kiln. Bright orange light and intense heat emanated from the doorway,

but, undaunted, she dipped the end of the pipe into a large ceramic pot inside the

kiln that was filled with molten glass. Turning the pipe, she gathered a taffylike slug

and pulled it out, closing the door with her hip. The slug pulsed with a red-hot light

as if alive.

“You have to keep the blowpipe spinning or the glass will sag,” Opal said over

the noise. She rolled the slug over a metal table to move the glass off the end of the

pipe and shaped it so the pipe looked as if it had a clear ball attached to its end.

Her motions quick, Opal then rested the pipe on the edge of the table and blew

into the other end. Magic brushed my arm as her cheeks puffed. The glass on the

opposite end didn’t inflate with air. Instead, a thread of magic was trapped within its

core.

“It’s supposed to expand, but mine never does,” she said as she went back to

the kiln and gathered another slug overtop the first. She took the pipe to a bench

designed to hold it and other metal tools needed to shape the glass. Buckets of water

sat within easy reach.

Opal grabbed a pair of steel tweezers and pinched and squeezed the slug with her

right hand while rolling the pipe with her left hand the whole time. “You have to

move quickly because it cools fast.”

Within seconds the ball transformed into a cat sitting on its back legs. She stood

and put the cat back into the kiln, but this time she just spun the pipe above the pot.

“You have to keep plenty of heat in the glass or you can’t work with it.”

Sitting back on her bench, Opal exchanged her tweezers for another set. These

were bigger and as long as her forearm. “Jacks, a great all-purpose tool. I’m putting

in a jack line so I can crack the piece off the pipe.”

When the groove was to her liking, she took the tweezers in hand again and

dipped them into the bucket of water. She dribbled a few drops into the jack line.

“You have to be careful not to get water onto your piece. So you move from the

pipe down.” The glass hissed and a spiderweb of cracks spread over the glass on