Fire Study (9 page)

was worrying about Bain’s next history test, but lives are at stake. Ferde could be

stealing another’s soul and I might have the power to stop him.”

“What do you want? For me to tell you to do this or do that and wa-lah!” Moon

Man flourished his hand in the air. “Instant success!”

“Yes. That is exactly what I want. Please, tell me.”

A thoughtful expression settled on his face. “When you were training to be the

Commander’s food taster, would you know what the poison My Love tasted like if

Valek had just described it to you?”

“Yes.” There was no mistaking the sour-apple taste.

“Would you trust your life on that knowledge? Or others?”

I opened my mouth to reply but paused. Now I couldn’t remember the poisons I

hadn’t tasted or smelled. But I’ll never forget the tartness of My Love, the rancid

orange flavor of Butterfly’s Dust, and the bitter thickness of White Fright.

“I’m talking about magic. Testing food for poisons is different.”

“Is it?”

I pounded my fist on the ground. “Do Story Weavers sign a contract or make a

blood oath to be difficult and stubborn and a pain in the ass?”

A serene smile spread on his face. “No. Each Story Weaver chooses how he will

guide his charges. Think about it, Yelena. You do not respond well to orders. Now

eat your meat before it gets cold.”

Stifling my desire to fling the food into the fire and prove the insufferably smug

Story Weaver right about my inability to take orders, I bit off a large chunk.

Spiced with pepper, the oily meat tasted like duck. Moon Man fed me two more

pieces before he would let me return to the sleeping men and heal them. Tired, I

snoozed by the fire.

When everyone had roused and gathered around the campfire to eat, we

discussed our next move.

“Do you think they would set more ambushes in the jungle? Leave more Warpers

in our path?” I asked Moon Man.

He considered my question. “It is possible. They left one at the camp who

sacrificed himself. This one was supposed to come back. Our spies have

determined the Daviian Vermin have about ten Warpers—eight now. Two are very

powerful, and the rest have various lesser talents.”

“The ambush leader had enough magic to create and hold a null shield.”

Moon Man turned the meat roasting over the fire. “A valid and alarming point.

Which means they might have been performing Kirakawa for some time.”

“What’s Kirakawa?” Leif asked.

“It is an ancient ritual. It has many steps and rites. When done correctly, it

transfers the life energy of one person to another. All living beings have the ability to

use magic, but most cannot connect to the power source. A person performing

Kirakawa will either increase their magical power or gain the ability to connect with

the power source, and therefore become a Warper.

“Their leader mentioned levels and a binding rite. They are probably using the

Kirakawa to grant certain members magical abilities and increase certain Warpers’

powers. Their leader would not want all the clan members to be equally powerful.”

“How is the Kirakawa different than the Efe ritual Ferde used?” Leif rubbed the

cut on his cheek.

“The Efe ritual binds a person’s soul to the practitioner, increasing their power.

While blood is needed, it isn’t the medium holding the power in Efe. The soul carries

the power. And the person performing the ritual must be a magician.”

“It sounds like anyone can use this Kirakawa to gain power,” Leif said.

“If they knew the proper steps. With the Kirakawa, the victim’s soul is trapped in

blood. It is gruesome, too. The victim’s stomach is cut open and the heart is

removed while the victim is still living. The Kirakawa is also more complex than the

Efe ritual.”

“Could any magician use Efe? Or just the Soulstealer?” I asked.

“A Soulfinder could, but no one else. Is that a straight enough answer for you,

Yelena?”

I didn’t dignify his comment with a reply. Instead, I asked about Mogkan, Alea’s

brother. In Ixia, he had captured over thirty people, turning them into mindless slaves

so he could siphon their power and augment his own. Valek and I had eventually

stopped him from gaining control of Ixia, which explained Alea’s desire for revenge.

“Mogkan tortured them both physically and mentally until they could no longer

bear to be aware of their surroundings. They retreated within themselves and just

became a conduit for him to exploit. Their magic remained in their bodies.”

The implications over the different ways for people to abuse power raced

through my mind. “Going back to the Kirakawa. If the Daviian Vermin have been

performing it for a while, then they could have more than eight Warpers.”

Moon Man nodded. “Many more.”

Paranoia sizzled up my spine. Convinced Warpers surrounded us, my desire to

return my friends to the safety of the plateau pressed between my shoulder blades.

However, if the Daviians wanted to find more victims for their ritual, the Zaltana

Clan teemed with people and magicians. With the Warpers using a null shield, the

clan would have no warning. Fingers of desperate fear squeezed my stomach as the

images of my mother and father being mutilated filled my mind.

“HOW DO YOU COUNTER the null shield?” I asked Moon Man, failing to

keep the panic out of my voice. The jungle around us darkened and I imagined

predators lurking behind every tree and bush. Only the small fire we huddled around

gave off any light.

“Magic cannot pierce the shield, but find a way around the shield’s edges and

you can use your magic.”

“What are the shield’s dimensions?”

“Depends on the strength of the builder. The one we used in the plateau was as

tall as a man astride a horse, and as wide as thirty men. But we had four Story

Weavers combine their powers to build it. For one Warper, the shield would have to

be smaller.”

I looked up at the trees. The ambush had come from above. Would they use the

same tactic for another ambush? No. If the first attempt hadn’t worked, then a

different strategy would be used. Being higher than your target had many advantages,

and if I climbed into the tree canopy, I might be able to get past the edges of another

null shield and discover where another ambush lurked.

Knowing my next move helped to dampen my terror for my family. I made

contact with Kiki, projecting my awareness up toward the plateau.

Any trouble? I asked.

No. Bored, she replied. Go?

Yes. I’ll meet you at the Illiais Market rendezvous location.

I then told my plan to the others.

“Not without me,” Leif said. “I grew up in the jungle. I know every leaf and tree.”

His body stiffened with determination.

“That is why you need to stay with them. To show them the way to the

homestead. To help them avoid predators.”

Leif crossed his arms over his broad chest. But he knew I made sense, so he

couldn’t argue.

“I need to question our prisoner before I go. There could be a chance the other

Vermin might not be targeting my family.”

The man groaned and blinked at me when I woke him from his deep sleep. Moon

Man had been right to tie his arms. There hadn’t been enough Curare left on my

blade to paralyze him.

The Vermin’s tunic and pants had been ripped, and I glimpsed portions of

blackish-red tattoos on his brown skin. Moon Man reached over and ripped the

man’s right sleeve off.

The Story Weaver pointed to the symbols on the man’s arm. “He has made the

proper blood sacrifice to prepare for the Kirakawa ritual. That ink in his skin has

been mixed with blood.” Moon Man’s shoulders dropped as if he grieved. “The

Sandseeds were wise to banish the old rituals.”

“You were misguided and fooled into following the teachings of Guyan,” the

prisoner said. “Not wise but weak and pitiful, giving up your power to become

docile pathetic Story Weavers instead of—”

Moon Man grabbed the man by the throat and lifted him off the ground. Docile

and weak were not words I would have used to describe the Story Weaver.

“Where did you get the instructions?” Moon Man asked, shaking him.

The man smiled. “I am not telling you.”

“Instructions?” I asked.

“The details for the old rituals had been lost to time. At one point in history, we

knew how to perform many different rituals to increase our power. Our clan passes

information down to our children through teaching stories. Once Guyan became our

leader, the evil ones who knew the required steps were killed. The information

should have died with them.” He dropped the Daviian to the ground.

I remembered Dax reading a bunch of ancient tomes when we had tried to

interpret Ferde’s tattoos to discover why Ferde had been raping and killing those

girls.

“There were a few books in the Magician’s Keep. A Sandseed might have written

the instructions and symbols down before they died. Perhaps there is another copy

that the Vermin are using.” I turned to the man. “I guess you’re not going to tell us

what the Vermin’s plans are either?”

He met my gaze and sneered. It was all I needed. My family could be in danger. I

sent a rope of power toward his mind and rifled through his thoughts and memories,

extracting the information I needed. I suppressed the pang of guilt and my

recollections of when Roze Featherstone had tried to examine my mind in a similar

fashion. She had thought I was a spy from Ixia, and the Ethical Code didn’t apply to

spies or criminals. I could argue the same in my defense. Did that make me the same

as Roze? Perhaps. The thought made me uncomfortable.

Besides a few horrid memories of watching an initial level of the Kirakawa ritual,

the man knew almost nothing. Ordered to stay behind and ambush anyone who

came out of the caves, his small unit had scheduled a rendezvous with the larger

jungle group at a later time. Where and when the meeting would be, he had no idea.

And, more important, he didn’t know what the others planned to do.

He had a few tidbits of information. I confirmed that both Cahil and Ferde had

come this way and they traveled with a group of twelve Vermin.

“Fourteen is not enough to win in an attack on the Zaltanas,” Leif said, pride in

his voice.

I agreed. “But winning isn’t everything.”

My anxiety to leave increased a hundredfold. A group of Vermin had entered the

jungle and my clan could be in trouble. Images of my father and mother being

captured and staked to the ground replayed in my mind. The thought of my cousin

Nutty climbing without care through the trees and falling into a trap, hurried my

preparations.

I shouldered my pack, threading my bow through its holder. “What about our

prisoner?” I asked Moon Man.

“I will take care of him.”

“How?”

“You do not want to know.”

“Yes, I do. I want you to tell me everything!”

Moon Man sighed. “The Vermin were once a part of the Sandseed clan. They are

our wayward kin, and they are infesting the rest of Sitia. How we deal with them is in

accordance to our laws, and it is the proper way to take care of Vermin.”

“And that would be?”

“You exterminate them.”

A protest perched on my lips. What about those members who might have been

misguided? But my question remained unvoiced. Now wasn’t the best time to argue

crime and punishment.

Instead, I gazed at the tall trees, looking for a way up into the canopy, wishing I

hadn’t left my grapple and rope in the cave. I found a long vine and used it to climb

into the higher branches. After a moment to reorient myself—the Zaltana homestead

was to the west—I swung over to the next tree.

I kept my magical senses tuned to the life around me, seeking the Daviians and

other predators as I traveled toward home. The web of branches and crowded trees

slowed my progress. After a few hours, my sweat-soaked clothes were ripped, and

my skin burned and itched from innumerable cuts and insect bites.

Resting on the branch of a hawthorn tree, I scanned the area between me and

Moon Man. There was no sign of any intelligent life so I linked my mind with Moon

Man’s and Leif’s.

You will be safe to travel to this area, I said, picturing the small clearing below.

Stay there until I contact you again.

They agreed.

After I rested, I pushed my way through the jungle’s canopy, staying alert to any