Flameseeker (Book 3) (6 page)

Jarial groaned “You two are grown men now. Why
can’t you just put these childish issues behind you?”

“They are not ‘childish issues’, Master Glace.
This is a matter of my family’s honor. Saris comes from a rival family who
despises my father and the great things he has done, like reviving the Harran
in Ankhram. My father came here for a short time, and the Beshara family did
not like it.”

“Yes, I vaguely remember your father. Amil was his
name, yes?”

Omari nodded.

Jarial rubbed his temples. “Look, whatever Saris
wants shouldn’t matter to you. You have greater things to aspire to—such as
earning that Council seat, which I think, at this point, will end up being
yours by default once all of this mess is cleared up.”

“But even if I do earn that seat, I would have
been required to shadow Master Faulk for one month until I become fully accustomed
to Council protocol. But now ... he is ...”

Jarial rolled his eyes. “
I
can tell you
what ‘Council protocol’ is: simply sitting there and being quiet unless you are
asked a question. It’s all simple politics, really. You don’t need to ‘shadow’
anyone. That’s a crock of shite.”

“But, Master Glace—”

“Do you
want
to be on the Council or not,
boy?” Jarial asked sharply, narrowing his eyes. His vision momentarily blurred
into a spectrum of colors.

“Of course I do, but—”

“Then shut up and do as I said!”

Omari took a deep breath and stared at Jarial intently,
then nodded.

Jarial relaxed. He knew exactly how Omari was feeling.
“I was nervous, too, you know, on becoming a Councilmember. It was probably the
most frightening thing that happened in my life. Why? I don’t know. Perhaps it
was just the feeling of having achieved a lifelong goal and finally seeing its
rewards with my own eyes. I was young then—younger than you, actually.”

Omari managed a small smile. “I just ... do not
want to fail. I do not want to dishonor my father’s name.”

Jarial patted him on the back reassuringly. “My
late master, Gamelyn, once told me, ‘You’re going to make all the same mistakes
I made, and then some. But the important thing is that you learn from each of
those experiences, for that is what is going to make you a true master.’ Those
words could never be any truer. You will be a fine addition to the Council. Of
this, I am certain.” He turned away from Omari and returned to his desk. “Besides,
it’s not only your father now that you will be honoring. It is also Na’val—
your
master.”

Omari plucked Percival from his shoulder and set
him on the floor before approaching Jarial. Percival scampered to Sable and
began investigating her twitching tail.

“Master Glace,” Omari said, “you have also been a
great influence in my life, for it was you amongst the other masters who had
helped me learn the basics of magic.”

Jarial stared blankly at the grain of his wooden desktop.
“I’ve done nothing compared to what he’s done for you.” He glanced up at Omari.
“He made you into a man—and an adept who is worthy of a Council title. His
death must
not
be in vain.”

“It will not.” Omari shifted his weight. “But I
want to find the murderer.”

“We all do, but that is obviously easier said than
done.” Jarial rubbed his chin. “Although ...”

“What is it, sir?”

“That dagger ... I can’t get that image out of my
head. I’ve been trying to decipher that rune I saw on the hilt, but I could not
understand it.”

Omari tilted his head curiously. “What did the
rune look like?”

Jarial retrieved a blank parchment, slid his quill
and inkwell closer to him, and began drawing the image. Omari peered over his
shoulder and watched. When Jarial finished, Omari gasped.

“That looks like the symbol of
Ben-nyu
, the
firebird,” Omari said.

Jarial raised his eyebrows. “Oh? That sounds like
an Ankhran name. I’m none too familiar with your country’s lore. Why are
you
so surprised by it?”

Omari paled. “Because ... the symbol is also used
by the Beshara family.”

VI

Each successive day at the Pyre was increasingly
brutal for Kaijin. After four days, he found himself nearing his limit. He was
using every spell he had ever learned, but against Vargas’s divine ones, master
cleric that he was, Kaijin struggled to keep his life.

Assuming it was morning, Kaijin sat at his reading
desk, perusing some books about Ignis as he awaited a summon from Vargas or,
preferably, Ranaiah. He had found the books in the grand library, and they
taught him much about the many facets of the Firelord that he had not known
before. It intrigued him to know that Ignis was just as capable of good as he
was of evil.

Why are you trying to drive me insane?
Kaijin asked, directing the question at the presence within him, if it could
hear him.
I would rather embrace your more generous side.

The fiery voice didn’t answer, to his
disappointment. Instead, Miele screeched in his mind, breaking him from his
thoughts. She swooped down from the ceiling and landed on the trunk at the foot
of his bed. She nudged the haversack sitting atop it until a small jar poked
out from the top.

Kaijin smiled at his familiar and slid out of his
chair. He retrieved the jar, opened it and pulled out a honeystick.
“Hmm, so
it’s breakfast time, is it?”
He smiled and handed the treat to her. Without
windows in his room, his sense of time had become distorted, but the animal
instincts of his familiar allowed Miele to track the passage of sun and stars.

Miele happily snatched up the honeystick and flew back
up to her hidden perch, where she could enjoy it in private.

A light knock sounded on the door, and Kaijin spun
around.
Ranaiah is here!
With a wide smile on his face, he bounded to
the door and flung it open. His smile drooped when he discovered an acolyte
standing there. The man, who looked about Kaijin’s age, carried a tray of hot
tea and slices of dark bread with steaming, melted white cheese. Fire lily petals
accentuated the dishes.

The acolyte nodded politely. “Good morning,
Kaijin. The high priestess asked me to give this to you with her regards, as
she will be a little late to fetch you this morning.” He presented the tray.

Kaijin took the tray and wrinkled his brow, curious.
Is she all right?
“Uh, thanks.”

The acolyte dismissed himself, and Kaijin shut the
door. He moved the books from his desk and set the tray down, his concern for
Ranaiah momentarily outweighing his hunger. He picked up one of the flower
petals and examined it. From the vibrancy of the red and yellow, the flower was
freshly picked. He inhaled the petal’s crisp, sweet scent and closed his eyes.
Smells
just like her.
He smiled.

Miele screeched with amusement in his mind.

Kaijin blinked, and his cheeks went hot. Pouting,
he glanced up toward Miele’s perch, unable to see her but sensing her presence.
“Oh, mind your own business!” he said sourly.

Miele ceased her taunting, but it unnerved Kaijin
to think that she was probably still watching him and listening to his
thoughts. Still simmering, he finally gave in to his grumbling belly and sat
down to his breakfast.

After he finished eating, Kaijin sipped at his ginger
tea and returned to his reading.

Another knock came on the door, followed by a
voice. “Kaijin, it’s me.”

Kaijin gulped down the rest of his tea and sprang
out of his chair. “R-Ranaiah! I’m here. Please come in.”

The high priestess entered. Her troubled
expression wiped the welcoming grin off Kaijin’s face. She refused to meet his gaze
as she closed the door behind her.

Kaijin approached her, frowning. “Ranaiah? Are you
all right?”

She sighed heavily and looked at him. “Forgive me
for coming so late this morning, but Vargas and I had much to discuss. I am
worried about your safety. I did not tell him yet, but I will be dismissing him
from his position after today.” She clasped her hands in front of her.

“He
has
been getting a little extreme with
the tests.” Kaijin scratched the back of his head. “Thankfully I’ve been able
to overcome everything he’s been throwing at me.”

“Yes, and he is quite resentful of that fact. I
fear he has some hidden motive that he will not discuss with anyone, even me.
If that is the case, then he does not belong in the Pyre.”

“And here I thought he liked me.”

Ranaiah unclasped her hands and took a step closer
to him. “He was ... curious about you when you and your friends first arrived
here. And he has since been trying to understand you. I think perhaps this
curiosity is now becoming a dangerous obsession.”

“Why so many tests, Ranaiah? Have I not proven myself
to you by coming here?”

“You are a mage who can wield both arcane and divine
energy. Nobody like you has been seen in the world for decades. You hold a
great power, and as the Almighty Firelord himself decreed when you first
arrived, we must train you and guide you to use this power wisely.”

It was Kaijin’s turn to sigh. He moved away from
Ranaiah and slumped down in his desk chair. “Why me? I don’t understand. I am
no one special. I didn’t ask for this. I was happy just studying magic.”

Ranaiah gave him a reassuring smile and approached
him. She gently touched his shoulder. “How many times have you asked that, and
how many times have I repeated my answer? Sometimes destiny calls the most
unsuspecting people at the most inconvenient times, but we must heed it, no matter
what.”

Kaijin propped his elbows on the table and buried
his face in his hands as he sorted through his thoughts. Ranaiah’s touch kept
his mind at ease. “I guess ... I will do what I must to master this new power.”
He dropped his hands from his face and turned to the priestess. “I trust that
you
will not lead me astray, at least, Ranaiah. I’m not sure if I can say the same
for Vargas.”

Her expression hardened. “Don’t worry about him. I
will make certain today’s test is more controlled.” Her hand fell away from his
shoulder and lightly brushed his arm.

He shivered, seized by a sudden desire to grasp
her hand before it got away, but he managed to resist the urge. Still, when he
stood from his chair and faced her, he stared deep into her chocolate eyes,
which were filled with concern. He reached out hesitantly and gently brushed
his fingers down her cheek. Hints of pink appeared on the brown skin beneath
his fingertips, and Ranaiah closed her eyes. Her head tilted slightly toward
his hand, and she exhaled softly. A faint smile touched her lips.

This is wrong, but ... but I can’t help myself.
The way Ranaiah looked at that moment—so content and vulnerable—made his heart
swell.

“Ranaiah ...” Kaijin lifted her hand and brought
it shakily to his lips. “I can’t thank you enough for helping me. For believing
in me.”
What am I doing? What am I saying?
Her skin was smooth and warm,
and the enticing scent of fire lilies exuded from it.

Ranaiah opened her eyes. “I will do whatever it
takes ... for
you
, Kaijin Sora,” she whispered.

Her lips were so close, so soft. Kaijin began to
lean toward them, toward Ranaiah.

As he did, the memory of another face, another
kiss, rose between them.
Zarya,
he thought, with a pang of guilt and
longing. He could feel the warmth of Ranaiah’s face on his own, but the image
of Zarya’s cool, unattainable perfection overwhelmed the heat in his blood. At
the last moment, just before their lips touched, Kaijin lowered his head and
kissed the back of Ranaiah’s hand. The taste of her skin was sweet, as sweet as
the scent of lilies, and he closed his eyes in ecstasy.

This must be what it’s like to kiss a goddess.
Reluctantly, he lowered her hand and gazed at her. The pink in her cheeks had
flushed to a deep red, and she laid her other hand over the one Kaijin had just
kissed and smiled at him warmly.

He returned her smile with a sheepish grin, her silence
causing him to nervously release her hand and scratch the back of his head. “Uh
... I should ... begin the training now.”

* * *

Kaijin stood in the middle of the chamber. Unlike
his previous tests, glowing orbs floated in each corner, illuminating it. He
stared up at the platform where Vargas and Ranaiah stood together, chatting. He
had no doubt that he was the subject of their conversation. Ranaiah’s face
occasionally turned in Kaijin’s direction.

She’s watching. I can’t—I
won’t
disappoint
her.

Vargas turned away from Ranaiah and pointed down
at Kaijin. “Are you ready now, boy?”

“I’m
not
a boy!” he retorted. “Bring on
whatever test you have today.”

Vargas chuckled. “With pleasure.”

Behind Vargas, Kaijin noticed, Ranaiah seemed in a
state of deep concentration, as if she were anticipating something.

Vargas pulled an amber pendant from within his
robes. He removed the pendant and, holding it aloft, spoke. “Almighty Firelord,
I call upon Your strength, Your rage, Your wrath. Send forth one of Your
faithful warriors so that they may put this Firebrand’s abilities to their true
test!” He tossed the pendant into the chamber.

Kaijin stared at the pendant at his feet. Inset in
the fiery amber was the symbol of Ignis.

He quickly backed away from the pendant, mindful
of his previous tests.
I will not get ambushed again.

The pendant glowed with power and grew in size,
forming into an immense elliptical ring that nearly touched the ceiling. On the
outer edge of the ring was ancient writing that Kaijin was unable to decipher.
A fiery swirl emanated from within the ring, and Kaijin glimpsed what looked
like part of another world beyond it. The area was barren and tinted a deep
red-orange hue. The air wavered from the heat of the flames that burned the
ground, which was made of hot embers.

Something about that place looked familiar; he was
certain he’d seen it before. Then, he remembered.
The Realm of Fire—Ignis’s
domain. But how is it that ...
Kaijin squinted, studying the strange
doorway, and then he recognized the type of spell that Vargas had cast. It was
highly advanced—something that only the most experienced mages were capable of
performing. He had heard horror stories of such of summoning spells going
wrong. He’d had no idea that clerics were capable of performing similar spells.

“You lied, Vargas!” Ranaiah exclaimed from above.
“Dismiss this gateway spell immediately!”

“No. The Firelord has spoken to me,” Vargas retorted.
“Kaijin’s limits
will
be tested!”

Their voices became a jumble of noise in Kaijin’s
ears as something huge stepped through the gateway and towered over Kaijin,
more massive than a bull. He went cold.

The monster, an afriti, was what had always
haunted him in his dreams.

The creature’s burly, inhuman ankles were adorned
with ornate golden cuffs, and ash-grey claws protruded from the stubby toes of
its bare feet. The creature’s red-orange skin gave off the illusion of burning
flames. It stared intently at Kaijin with haunting turquoise eyes, and its
broad, flat snout wrinkled as it gave a grisly smile, revealing a set of
razor-sharp fangs. Two large black horns protruded from its head and curved
upwards, and its frayed, pointed ears were adorned in brass rings. Secured at
its waist was an ornate brass scimitar.

Kaijin gasped.
It’s the same afriti as from my
dream!

The monster snatched Kaijin up with a clawed hand.
“No, Kaijin Sora. I am not a dream.”

Kaijin trembled in the creature’s iron grip, too
shaken to summon a spell. “Stop ... Stop doing that. Stop reading my thoughts.
Get out of my head!” He felt sweat bead over his face, and his vision blurred.
This
can’t be happening again! Why?

The afriti chuckled darkly and squeezed Kaijin more
tightly, enveloping him in bright orange flames.

A flaming chain whipped out of the darkness behind
it and looped around its waist. Its grisly smile dropped.

“You will not disrupt this test any longer,
Ranaiah!” Vargas screamed. Through the shimmer of the flames, Kaijin could
vaguely see Vargas and Ranaiah tussling. “Release the afriti at once!” Vargas
demanded.

Ranaiah!
Kaijin struggled in the afriti’s
grip.

The afriti roared and pulled on the flaming chain,
jerking both Ranaiah and Vargas dangerously near the edge of the platform. The
stumble broke Vargas’s hold, but it also cost Ranaiah her grip on the chain,
and it vanished in a flash of orange light.

Vargas’s hand emitted a glow, and an ethereal
flail, shimmering with flames, appeared. His eyes burning with rage, he wildly
swung the near-transparent but apparently solid weapon at Ranaiah’s face.
“Curse you, Ranaiah!”

Ranaiah stepped back, which put her foot at the
very edge of the platform. When Vargas attacked again, she evaded by moving her
body to the side. At the peak of his forward momentum, Ranaiah agilely swept
behind him and grabbed his arm in a skillful arm-lock, making him drop the
weapon. It fell to the ground and disappeared.

Vargas continued to struggle against her. “Release
me!”

“Not until you send that afriti back!”

Vargas jerked his body far enough free from
Ranaiah’s grip to ram his elbow into her ribs. She yelped and doubled over,
letting go.

He whirled and grabbed her robes, pulling her to
him. “The Firelord spoke to
me,
Priestess, and I
will
obey him!”
he snarled into her face.

She grunted. “You’ve gone mad. I condemn you to
Ignis’s wrath for these wicked acts!” She shoved him with all her might and
ripped herself free. Vargas stumbled backward, unbalanced by Ranaiah’s
resistance. She extended her fist and sent forth a blast of light that knocked
him over the edge of the platform.