The Firebrand Legacy (12 page)

“Kavariel can’t save us this time,” David
said. “Carine, when you find your parents, what are you going to
do?”

“Get out of Esten, together.” Her heart broke
to suggest it. It was one thing to plan to move temporarily, when
they would return to a healthy Esten. But now, once she and her
parents left, Navafort would crumble behind them.

There was another factor too, creeping into
Carine’s concerns. She turned to David, his ears sticking out under
his now-dried hair, and Giles, who stood tall with hands clasped
behind his back even during this casual conversation among friends.
“But what will happen to you?”

“We can’t abandon our people.”

“For once, you’re right. Grandfather is wrong
this time,” Giles said. “We need to show the people that we can
defend our own.”

“You will?” A spark, like hope, lit in
Carine. “But how?”

Giles leaned against his bookcase. “We can’t
win with swords. We must use magic against the Heartless One.”

Carine clenched her jaw, conflicted. A week
ago, she would run, but now, maybe Giles was right. Maybe magic
wasn’t all bad. It was more nuanced than that, and if they could
use it to protect Navafort, Carine could support the endeavor. On
the other hand, the very thought went against everything she’d ever
been taught, all that she’d ever believed in.

“David, what resources do we have?” Giles
asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that all your sorting through
wishpiles might finally pay off.”

David’s room was a jungle. A miniature dragon
skeleton hung from his ceiling as though in flight. Open books with
elaborate illustrations scattered across the floor. Handwritten
letters covered his hanging mirror. Navafort pennants strung from
each bedpost. The covers, even after he’d been gone so long, were
piled at the foot of the bed.

Color filled David’s cheeks as Carine
entered. “I tell the servants not to touch things. Once they move
something, I can never find it again.”

What grabbed Carine’s attention wasn’t the
mess but the glittered writing on the walls. Where Giles had
bookcases in his room, David had open wall, every inch of it
covered in words of the dragon language, Manakor. The words
sparkled in big font and small font, so that, along with the dragon
skeleton, the room had an aura of death about it. Standing in the
doorway was like standing in Kavariel’s breath of flame.

Carine hugged her arms to her chest and
stayed at the center of the room. “What do they all mean?”

Giles answered for David as he popped into
his study and rummaged through a heap of pots, pans, armor,
clothing, and gadgets. “They are the hundred words of Manakor. The
ones we have translations for. Most of them have been breathed by
Kavariel onto Esten’s walls, but some have been revealed in other
parts of the kingdom.” Giles frowned. “Which is why I don’t like
that Thabo claimed to know the definition of your name. Either he’s
a liar or he has access somehow to privileged information.”

“Do you know them by heart?”

Giles raised an eyebrow. “What do you
think?”

Carine smiled. “You’re a little full of
yourself, you know that?”

“I simply asked what you think,” Giles said.
“No harm in that.”

David waltzed in and spread five items onto
the rug. He picked out a book and a few puzzle pieces that had been
on the floor to start out with, but once they were clear, he held
up a frying pan. Carine knelt down beside the objects, not willing
to touch them but wishing with all her might that they might have
the power to save a city.

“Watch this.” David held his fingertips to
the frying pan and tapped on the metal five times. By the fifth
tap, a ringing filled his room. Carine met his eyes as David drew a
finger to his lips.
“Shh!”
The ringing started off low and
soft, but when David tapped the pan again, the pitch and volume
jumped up.

“What is the point of—” Giles said, but David
flicked the metal. The pitch increased again, this time piercing
the room.

Carine covered her ears and watched in horror
as David hit the metal a fourth time. The vibration screamed. Giles
doubled over, holding onto his ears, and David beaming, quickly
tapped the metal twice.

The pan silenced.

A dull ringing continued in Carine’s
ears.

“Isn’t it great?” David yelled.

Giles frowned. “The Heartless One could
shatter it with a single word. He could fling it from your grasp.
That won’t work. Not even close.”

“Are you kidding? This has real potential! Do
you know how long it took me to figure out what it does, let alone
how to stop it?”

“That’s neither here nor there,” Giles said.
“At this point, our kingdom hangs in the balance. The work you put
in has nothing to do with the results. What else do you have?”

Unfortunately, David started out with his
best find. The feather that cured sneezing and the shield that
floated in front of a person couldn’t do much to help the whole
city.

Carine studied the wish pile and suddenly
stood.

“What?” David said.

She shook her head. “We’ve been looking in
the wrong place. We’ve been looking for an enchanted object to help
us defeat the Heartless Ones, right? But we know what defeats them:
the flame. The flame has always stopped the Heartless Ones.”

“But Kavariel isn’t coming,” David said.

“That’s right, but because of Ute, now we
know where he is. If Kavariel won’t bring us the flame, then I’m
going to go get it.”

“You must be joking,” Giles said. “How can
you expect to cross Navafort and live? The Heartless Ones are out
there, even now.”

“And if you get to the dragon, you can’t just
nab his flame. You’ll die!”

“I’ll die here anyway.” Carine dusted off her
surcoat. “Do you have any horses?”

Giles raised an eyebrow. “Can you ride?”

“I’ll figure it out,” she said, and to her
annoyance, Giles responded in laughter.

David followed her into the hallway. “Carine,
wait! Kavariel’s in pain. Have you ever seen a fire-breathing beast
in pain? They don’t get nicer. He. Will. Kill. You.”

Carine spun, a new fullness burning inside
her. “You know what, David? That’s what I’ve believed my whole
life. Every year, I’ve hidden away with my parents because that
beast out there—that beast that we need—burned my sister to ash.
And the only thought that’s made that tragedy bearable is the idea
that because she died, we survived another year. How can I
not
go, David? How can I sit here and let my parents suffer
the same way she did? If I go and die there, no one will miss me
but them. If I go and get that flame, we might finally find the
peace we’ve been looking for all along. Can you understand
that?”

David met her eyes. “My dad died in battle. I
do understand. I’m coming with you.”

“And you’ll never get there without me.”
Giles strapped his sword to his hip. “So, I’m coming too.”

David smiled. “There, you see? Let’s get some
supplies.”

Carine took the lead, darting through the
hallway and winding down narrow spiral stairs. David kept pace.

“And you’re wrong, Carine; your parents
aren’t the only ones who’d miss you.”

At the double doors to the throne room,
Carine pulled on Giles’ arm. “What are you doing? We don’t have
time for this.”

“I am requesting supplies. This journey will
take a couple weeks. We can’t go empty handed.” Giles pushed open
the throne room door. “Grandfather, we need supplies to go get the
dragon’s flame for Navafort. We don’t seek permission but money,
horses, and men.”

Limly, drying out now, stood erect. The king
rose solemnly, but as soon as he stood, a smile spread across his
face. David smiled too, beaming earnestly for the validation of the
king’s approval.

Until King Marcel burst out laughing and
exited the room.

The three exchanged looks, but David, Giles,
and Limly fled after the king. Carine stormed after them. “Who
cares what he thinks?” she yelled. “We need to leave now. We needed
to leave yesterday!”

For a moment, she considered going without
them, but the princes would be a better help to her than a few
minutes’ head start.

Up crooked stairs and down elaborate
hallways, King Marcel strode, his indigo cape fluttering after him
over the shiny stone floor. Servants bowed as he passed in haste
until at last the leader of Navafort stopped at two tall windows
that opened onto a balcony. Without a glace to the princes, he
thrust the windows open and stepped out, flooding the hallway with
an angry cacophony.

“What are you doing?” Prince Giles
demanded.

King Marcel raised his arms to the crowd.
They hushed. The silence, interrupted by scattered chants, awaited
his speech. King Marcel let his arms fall.

“Do not be afraid, dear citizens,” King
Marcel said. “Your Great Marcels have never let you down, and we
never will! For I today am sending an expedition to capture the
treasured flame of our wounded dragon Kavariel.”

Limly’s eyes widened. “His Majesty has
approved it, then,” he whispered. “I’ll prepare your things. I’ll
recruit the knights, sirs.”

“Hurry,” Carine said.

“Yes, madam,” Limly said. “I’ll work quickly,
madam.” He skirted down the stairs, bumping into walls and
banisters.

His highness continued, “This kingdom was
born in adversity, and adversity will make us stronger. Do not be
afraid, dear citizens. Your Great Marcels are here. Every year we
feel the sting of a bee as our children and neighbors perish at the
hand of the ash dragon Kavariel. But just as we need stinging bees
to pollinate our flowers and feed our families, so too have we
relied on this dragon to protect us from the Heartless Ones at our
borders. You must know, dear citizens, even if all deserted us,
even bees and dragons, you would still have your caring, devoted
Marcels to depend on. You say the phrase with reverence and love; I
recite the phrase as a reminder of my duty. Honor to the Great
Marcels indeed because, dear citizens, we honor you.”

Carine crept up to the window so she could
see the crowd. Somewhere down there her parents were gaining hope
from the king’s words, not knowing that it was their daughter who
would venture off for this cause.

The crowd began a confused cheer, but just as
the volume began to grow, it fell away, for among them stood a
hooded figure that mumbled something in a foreign tongue. Carine’s
skin crawled as she saw the effect of the Manakor: the stone of the
balcony cracked and sighed. From instinct, Carine reached out for
His Majesty. Her arm caught around his middle, and she yanked him
into the hallway just as the balcony crumbled.

Below, the people screamed.

The king fell back onto the hallway as the
glass doors shattered. Carine shrieked and covered the king. The
splintered shards showered her back but did not make any cuts.
David and Giles grabbed the trembling king’s arms and pulled him
down the hallway. “Soot and ash,” David mumbled, meeting Carine’s
eyes as if to ask if that really just happened.

Carine’s heart raced. Her breath was heavy.
As she stood, the glass clinked down her cloak to the floor. Below,
the people abandoned their signs and scattered.

All moved except one solitary figure. He
stood, looking up where the balcony had been, watching the girl
that stood there.

King Marcel bounded down the stairs. “Get me
a ship! Get me a ship!” he shouted.

Carine, David, and Giles bounded after
him.

“The other Heartless One is back already,”
Giles said.

“Where’s Limly?” David asked.

“Where are the horses?” Carine wanted to
know.

Giles led them down a corridor where they
slipped away from His Highness and into a great courtyard in the
castle. Downstairs servants screamed, darting across the courtyard
away from the main gate. Knights ran in the opposite direction,
streaming in groups of three and four toward the gate as though
their training could ward off a Heartless One.

“He’s in the Bastion,” David whispered.

Giles veered to the right. “This way.”

Carine hurried after, wishing her heart to
slow down, wishing she could feel calm. Instead, her mind and body
revolted against her. Her palms and forehead beaded with sweat. Her
chest rose up and down as no breath filled her lungs.

They ran around the upper balcony, but just
as Giles opened the door to the stairwell, the Heartless One
stepped into the courtyard.

With a whisper of Manakor, the courtyard’s
chairs splintered into boards that spelled out three words on the
floor: NO ONE LEAVES.

The knights that had gone to fight the
Heartless One had not followed him back. A pang hit Carine’s heart
as she realized that this might be the end for the Bastion, for her
kingdom.

David took her hand. “Come on.”

The three disappeared down the stairway. The
curved, tight wall amplified their heavy breaths.

“What if—” Carine started, but David squeezed
her hand and shook his head. He was right. They couldn’t afford to
dwell on what ifs. Not now.

The outside air hit them with the floral
scent of hyacinths. The fragrant sweetness seemed to mock them as
they found their way to the stables through a fleeing crowd of
servants that called for each other and wept for the fallen.

“Oh no,” David breathed, seeing the empty
stables. It wasn’t clear if the Heartless One had freed the royal
horses or if the servants had stolen them. Either way, they were
gone.

Carine leaned over a stable gate, breathing
in the smell of manure. “What do we do now?”

David covered his face with his hands. Giles
watched the running servants, clutching the hilt of his sword. A
figure bumbled into the stable doorway, holding something
outside.