The Girl Born of Smoke (18 page)

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Authors: Jessica Billings

Tags: #young adult, #magic, #epic fantasy, #wizard, #young adult fantasy, #high fantasy, #insanity, #fantasy, #fantasy romance, #clean romance, #best friends, #war, #friends into lovers

BOOK: The Girl Born of Smoke
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Tarana glanced around at the roomful of
mostly middle-aged men and raised an eyebrow. “This place
sucks.”

Sighing loudly, Prisca frowned at Tarana.
“Why did you even bother to come? You're always so annoying.” She
noticed the young bartender standing in front of her and shot him a
smile. His light blond hair was slicked back and his face was set
into a frown. “Hey there, we'll each take one of your drinks on
special.” The man didn't return the smile, but nodded.

“What makes you think I even want a drink?”
Tarana asked.

“Alright, what do you want then?”

“I guess that's fine,” Tarana said
flatly.

Prisca snickered as the drinks were set in
front of them. “Oh, thank you!” she called to the bartender's back
as he walked away.

Taking a sip of the foaming drink, Tarana
grimaced at the bitter, watery taste and swallowed several gulps
quickly. Prisca nodded in approval. “Good, huh?” She took a
swig.

“Terrible.” Tarana took another gulp, trying
not to make a face as she swallowed.

Prisca looked at her for a second. “You
know, I can never tell when you're being serious or not,” she said
slowly.

Tarana shrugged slightly. “So why did you
invite me here?”

Prisca grinned widely, showing more gums
than teeth. “We're celebrating!”

“Celebrating what?” Tarana asked dully.

“In a week is the Young Soldier's Awards
ceremony and General Kendall has all but given me the award
already. Apparently, I am by far the best young recruit they've
ever had, maybe even the best recruit, period. I'm to be commended
on my dedication, hard work, and success.”

“So basically,” Tarana took a gulp of her
drink, “you killed a lot of people.”

Prisca rolled her eyes. “There's a lot more
to it than that. Don't be so ignorant.” Finishing her drink first,
Prisca ordered a refill for both of them, which she drank almost as
quickly as the first one.

“If you keep ordering me drinks like this,”
Tarana said, “I'm going to make you pay for both of ours.”

Prisca grinned. “Pay? Why do you think I'm
being so friendly to the bartender? With any luck, neither of us
will have to pay. Why do you think I chose the bar least occupied
by girls our age?”

Tarana blinked. “Somehow, I doubt that will
work. But if it does, it almost makes these terrible drinks worth
it.”

Giggling, Prisca pushed away her empty
glass. “If you think this is bad, just try the other stuff here.”
She turned to the bartender again. “So what's your name?” she asked
loudly, over the loud mumble of the other customers. The bartender
either didn't hear or ignored her as he walked to the other end of
the bar. Waiting awkwardly until he walked back in their direction,
Prisca tried again. “Hey, how's it going?” she asked him, flipping
her hair back.

He stared at her, a bored expression on his
face. “Do you want something?”

“I was just-” she paused for a moment and he
turned away again.

The two continued to drink until it became
glaringly obvious that the bartender had no interest in either of
them. “Haven't you had enough of this yet?” Tarana asked
tiredly.

“Just one more drink,” Prisca mumbled,
staring blearily at her empty glass.

Tarana groaned and stumbled down from the
stool. “Fine, but I'm going outside.” She had had enough of the
hot, smelly bar and felt restless. Reaching deep into her pocket,
she tossed a few coins on the counter. “Meet me out there.” Prisca
glanced at her in reply, then focused her attention back on the
bartender who was still ignoring her. Shaking her head, Tarana
headed for the door, ready to welcome the cool night air. As she
exited, a man bumped into her, also exiting through the door.

“Wizard scum,” he grumbled, glaring at her.
She immediately spun to face him.

“What did you say?”

He spat at her feet. “Someone oughta
exterminate you Wizard vermin from our city. That's right, I can
tell you're not from around here. I know your type. You invade our
city, eat our food, and drink at our bars with your loudmouth
friends. You crawl through our streets like a buncha drunken rats
and there's no getting away from you. You're everywhere.”

Tarana shoved him against the wall outside
the bar, throwing all her weight into him. He stumbled backwards,
looking surprised, then furious. “Stupid girl,” he growled. He
swatted at her with his fist, but she ducked away, almost losing
her balance in the process. Recovering quickly, she pulled the
knife out from her belt, unfolded it with a quick motion of her
hand, and held it up to his chest. The man took a moment to realize
what it was, then stiffened. “You have just made a very big
mistake, girl.” He slowly reached his hands upward in defeat. “The
army will pay for what you have just done.”

Grinning slightly, Tarana prodded his chest
with just enough pressure to cause discomfort, then slowly
increased it, leaning into the knife. “If you care to discuss
mistakes, I think you’ve made one of your own,” she hissed. “How
dare you insult the people who are safeguarding this city against
harm? You people are too pathetic to defend it yourselves. You
should be thankful we're here to support you.”

The man groaned and shifted slightly under
the blade. “You're just a kid. You have no idea what you're talking
about. I pity you, I really do.” Tarana alleviated all pressure on
the knife suddenly and the man relaxed, feeling his chest.
“Realized your mistake, have ya?” Tarana turned, keeping her eyes
on him, and kicked him in the stomach.

The man doubled over with a whoosh of air
and gasped for breath, eyes closed. She held the knife to his eye
and waited for him to open it. He did, his stubbly eyelashes
brushing against the blade. It took him a moment to focus on the
blade and when he did, he held terribly still, his gaze flickering
between the knife and Tarana's face. Expressionless, she pricked
his eye with the knife.

He bellowed, straightening upwards and the
knife grazed his cheekbone. Blood dripped down his face while he
swung his fists wildly at Tarana, his eye squeezed shut. She easily
dodged away and deflected his hands with her knife. When he turned
his head to look for a way out, she stabbed him in the stomach and
pulled upwards. He gasped with pain as she wrenched upwards through
the resistance of organs and muscle.

Falling to the ground, he squirmed in agony,
his life seeping out of the deep gash. She bent down, wiping the
knife off on his shirt, then tensed as she heard someone move
behind her. Knife still in hand, she whipped around to find Prisca,
eyes widened.

“What...have you done?” she whispered.

Tarana tucked the knife back into its sheath
on her belt and turned away to head home. “Don't act so surprised,”
she said calmly. “You’re supposed to be the big expert on killing
people. This is nothing new.”

“You don't understand!” Prisca cried.
“People will know this was an act of the Wizard's Army and there
will be consequences. Even if no one saw you actually kill him,
they will blame us. And you especially will be ruined, along with
the commander and probably me, as well. What could you possibly
have been thinking?”

Turning to glower at Prisca, Tarana twisted
her face into an expression of concern. “Well, I don't know what I
could have been thinking! Perhaps I had too much to drink,” she
said in a sarcastic tone of voice.

Prisca didn't catch the sarcasm. “Obviously.
Well, maybe it's not all bad. If both of us deny we had anything to
do with it, they might not be able to prove it was the army. We
might be alright. But neither of us can say anything, alright?”

Tarana rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sure. Not a
word.” They headed wordlessly for the stronghold while Prisca
sighed repeatedly. Back indoors, they each went straight to their
separate bedrooms. Tarana closed her door and flopped down on her
bed without even bothering to undress.

What seemed like only a few moments later,
she awoke to the sound of a loud knocking on her door. She opened
one eye blearily, wincing at the sunlight streaming in her window.
She half-rolled off her bed, landing lightly on her feet. The
knocking continued, much to her irritation. Opening the door, she
scowled out at the noisy intrusion. “What is it?” she snapped.

Roxanne snickered at the sight of Tarana.
“You look awful, kid,” she said brightly. “And you slept through
training exercises this morning, along with Prisca. You two out
late last night?”

“You woke me up to tell me that?” Tarana
grumbled. “And since when have I ever hung out with Prisca? I'm
going back to bed.” She closed the door before Roxanne could reply
and crawled back into bed, pulling the blanket over her head. To
her relief, she heard Roxanne's footsteps trail away down the
hallway. After dozing half the day away, Tarana finally arose and
managed to open her eyes without too much pain. She changed clothes
and wandered out of her room, amused when she wasn't immediately
apprehended. Apparently Prisca kept her word.

The days passed without much excitement and
she saw little of Prisca. Finally, the third day after the
incident, she saw Kendall heading her way after morning training.
Frowning inwardly, she avoided his gaze and tried to walk past him,
but felt a firm hand on her shoulder. She looked up and nodded
politely. “Good morning, general.”

His expression looked grim. “I would
appreciate it if you could accompany me on a short walk,
Tarana.”

“Yeah, sure.” She yawned. “What for?”

“It's a matter of some
concern,” he explained as they walked. She fell into step next to
him as he walked away from the training field, toward the other
side of the courtyard. “You see, our relationship with
Ralinos
is of great importance to us and
there have been complaints lately of,” he paused, “altercations
between certain members of the army and the citizens of Ralinos.
Obviously, we have taken these complaints very seriously and are
looking into them. A few nights ago, there are claims that a man
was killed near a bar in the outskirts of Ralinos. Several
witnesses say they saw a young girl in that area during the time of
the murder, so we're checking with all of our younger members of
the army to see if they could help us locate this girl. I was
hoping you might know something about it. Perhaps you heard one of
your friends talking?”

Tarana was silent for a moment. “Well,” she
said slowly, “I did hear one of my friends, Prisca, talking about
going into town to get a few drinks a couple nights ago...I think
it was three nights ago, actually.” She bit her lip. “But I'm sure
she wouldn't do anything like that.”

Kendall nodded, his expression grave. “I
see. Your company's leader is Roxanne, correct? Thank you very much
for your cooperation,” he said. “You have been a great help. You
will be present for the Young Soldier's Awards ceremony tomorrow,
yes?”

She nodded shortly.

“Good. In light of recent events, we are
still reviewing all the new young recruits, yourself included.
Don't make any plans for tomorrow.” Turning stiffly on his heels,
he headed back toward the stronghold.

Stifling a laugh, Tarana half-smiled at
Kendall's back and walked around the yard for a few more moments,
waiting until he had gone back inside. She was back in her room
much later, when the door was thrown open and Roxanne stormed into
the room, looking furious.

“You idiot!” She slammed the door shut
behind her. “You absolute idiot! What the hell were you thinking?”
She kicked Tarana's armor out of the way with a clatter, then
tossed over the end table, cracking one of the legs.

Tarana narrowed her eyes with annoyance.
“What the hell is your problem?” She inched away from Roxanne, to
the other side of the room against the wall.

“What is my problem? My problem is that you
are trying to destroy everything I've ever worked for! My
reputation, everything I've worked so hard for, gone in one day
because of you! I should have known better than to trust you.” She
seethed with anger, her teeth gritted and fists clenched.

Carefully staying out of range of Roxanne's
fists, she looked away from her piercing green eyes. “And just what
have I done to destroy your life?”

“Well, I wonder,” Roxanne said
sarcastically. “I suppose it may have something to do with the fact
that General Kendall just asked me if Prisca had gone into town
several days ago, to my knowledge. Of course, I explained that she
had asked permission to do so and then I find out that she's
suspected of killing some man in Ralinos.” Her voice was terribly
calm, then erupted in anger. “I have half a mind to turn you in
myself! The only thing stopping me is the fact that doing so would
only make me look worse.” She slammed a fist against the wall and
Tarana winced. “Are you happy with yourself now? You got Prisca
kicked out of the army. General Kendall isn't taking any chances so
close to the final battle. You are such an idiot!”

“Why do you just assume that I had anything
to do with this?” Tarana yelled back. “Kendall asked about Prisca,
not me.”

“Because I know you,” Roxanne hissed. “I
know Prisca and I know you. Prisca knows how to follow orders, how
to stay out of trouble. You, on the other hand,” she took a step
toward Tarana, “can't stay out of trouble. I should never have
allowed you into the army. Why couldn't you have just stayed with
Kirian?”

Tarana crossed her arms and glared fiercely
at the wall next to Roxanne, saying nothing. Realizing she wasn't
going to receive a reply, Roxanne gave one last kick to the end
table, sending it skittering across the floor toward Tarana and
then left the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

Cautiously picking up the end table, Tarana
propped it upright, but the leg immediately broke off, sending it
crashing back to the ground. In response, she kicked it, breaking
off another leg, then kicked it repeatedly until all three legs lay
in pieces. Throwing them at the wall, she felt slightly more
satisfied with every crash. Exhausted, she threw herself onto her
bed and stared angrily up at the ceiling until it grew too dark to
see it anymore. Eventually, she fell asleep, still seething.

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