Girl of Fire Read online

  “I didn’t come to this village for Rheyna, but she needs nourishment for her body…and mind. I won’t turn my back on her.”

  My mother stared at him. “The Mannite came for Berona.”

  “Of course. Of course.” Father took a deep breath, and then advanced closer with the tined fork, about to lunge. Shandon did not bother with his sword. He looked at the fork, which turned into an adder. Father dropped it, and it slithered under the table.

  “I have a name, other than ‘the Mannite.’ I’m Shandon. Could we discuss matters peaceably?”

  “Berona, eh? I’ll not give her.” Father scanned the room for another implement to fight with. Shandon gazed fixedly at the kitchen knife, which turned into a flapping chicken that squawked once before it flew out of the smoke hole.

  Mother gasped. “Lord Shandon, please have mercy on our tools. The peddler won’t be by until the fall.”

  “Call me Shandon. There are no lords among the Mannites. As for the tools, don’t trouble yourself. The shape shifting won’t last past sunrise, and they won’t travel far from their hearth.” Shandon took a deep breath, raising his hands palms out. “I would like your assent to take Berona. I’m prepared to offer compensation.”

  That sounded promising. I’d been thinking along the same lines.

  “I don’t want your tainted gold, heretic. It will probably turn into dung tomorrow,” Father growled, although he stayed by the dining trestle.

  Dedi spoke up from the hearth. “Where are you taking my sister? She wants to learn how to dance.”

  Shandon didn’t smile. “An excellent question. I can’t help her with dancing, I’m afraid. But she could become a warrior. She has the spirit for it.”

  Mother, who’d been clutching our skillet, as if to protect it from transformation, loosened her grip. “She doesn’t want to be a warrior.”

  “Yes, I do,” I said. Three surprised faces turned to me.

  “Shut up, Berona. And you, Yellow Robe. Get out.” Father glowered from his place behind the trestle table.

  I felt ashamed of my deception and my father’s impotent bluster. I saw him clearly for the first time: a small man with a soft belly and tired eyes, next to the lean and well-spoken former noble. “I told Shandon he could come here. He let me borrow a nice knife, nicer than any our smith’s ever had,” I admitted.

  “You know this man?” Father barked. He closed his eyes when he could see the truth on my face. “I must do it,” he muttered. “A girl who talks to strangers, to Mannites…” He went for the switch in the corner.

  Had he forgotten about Shandon, who stood right next to him? Or was I just an easier target? Father’s lips were white; he continued to talk to himself. Then he lifted his head, advanced on me with determination.

  “No,” I squealed. I wasn’t afraid of the pain, but the thought of being humiliated in front of Shandon made me cringe.

  “Submit.”

  “I shall not.” I was much quicker, especially as Father had enjoyed several goblets of our wine. I jumped behind the chair and then nearly fell into the fire, trying to avoid the bite of the switch. I barely had time to notice Dedi fleeing into a corner, as Mother and Shandon whispered.

  I heard Mother say, “fighting.”

  Shandon nodded, looking concerned.

  “Just promise me…” The rest of Mother’s words were drowned out by the thump of Father’s boots. He had me cornered. He flailed the cane but after several painful licks, I grabbed the other end. Father couldn’t dislodge me.

  “Soal!” Shandon called out my father’s first name in admonishment.

  Father noticed Mother and Shandon standing together. He let go of the cane abruptly, and I fell back against the pan of dishwater, knocking that over as well.

  Father was sweating, and he looked exhausted. “You’re still here? Has a man no right against sorcerers, even at his own hearth?”

  “It’s my house too,” Mother said. “I want to hear what he has to say.”

  At this sign of resistance from his meek wife, Father threw up his hands. “You’re interested in this heretic’s proposal?” he asked me.

  “Tell me again, Shandon.” I could almost feel a sword in my hand, swishing, darting, cutting her white flesh. First, I would have to be tutored by that Red Robe. Shandon would help too. Tonight’s display convinced me that his magic was strong.

  “I’ll bring you to our secret mountain stronghold, Yassin. You’ll learn skills. Writing, weaving, sword fighting, if you wish. You won’t have to marry unless love impels you to a handfasting. You will have lodgings for as long as you live. There are no spinsters among the Mannites.”

  Mother glared at him. “It’s not the way you make it sound. Marriage won’t be a choice if she takes the Robe. They may not request a handfasting.”

  “If she chooses to Robe. She herself must know how much the arts of war speak to her.”

  I smiled. “That woman warrior? She’ll be at Yassin?”

  “Often,” Shandon said, not meeting my eyes. I looked at Mother, who remained quiet. Father held his wine goblet close to his chest, slumping against the trestle table.

  Shandon smiled. “So, Berona. Rheyna is waiting. Your father and I have some business to conclude, and then we ought to go.”

  “Yes,” I hurried along before I lost my nerve. “Lord Shandon, my parents have the misfortune of having no sons. I’ve been the mainstay of the household.”

  My father made a choking sound of disbelief. I ignored him. I had to use this strategy since I didn’t want to mention the bridal price to Shandon. He might get the wrong idea. Sure, he was clean and well-made, but that didn’t mean I wanted him panting over me.

  I kept on. “I’ve hunted, plowed, herded goats.”

  Shandon looked amused, which made me angry enough to say it. “My father needs six pieces of gold from you.”

  Mother looked appalled. Dedi giggled. Father looked interested.

  Would he take the bait?

  “I can’t stop you from going, can I?” he said. “I know you well enough. Just as soon seek to bind the wind.”

  “That’s true,” I said. “So you might just as well profit from it.”

  He turned to my mother. “If you forbid it, she would listen.”

  She looked down at her muddy, ill-fitting shoes.

  Mother’s family had the best land in our village. How did she feel about making do in winter with acorn meal while her mother and brothers feasted on shellfish delicacies rushed to their table by riders from the coast? Perhaps she thought Shandon could offer me a better life.

  Father glared at her when she didn’t answer. “I should have expected this,” he sneered. “A Mannite.” By the sad look on her face, this seemed to be another familiar argument, though not one I’d heard.

  Shandon took out his purse and laid it on the table. It was heavy, but he still hesitated. Six gold coins was enough to purchase a warhorse. I held my breath as he counted them out. Father’s hand hovered, and then snatched. There, it was done.

  “Lord Shandon, please let me fetch a few things and make my farewells. Where can I meet you?”

  “I’ll be right outside. I could use a freshen up at the well. And those figs look tasty,” Shandon said. “May I take a nibble?”

  * * *

  I packed quickly: a warm woolen cloak, winter boots, a clean shift and tunic, my comb, flint and tinder. Rags for my moon blood, and a sliver of precious soap. And Shandon’s knife. I wanted to take my lined tunic for winter, but there was no room for its bulk. The bag was meant to transport wine bottles back and forth to market, not contain a girl’s life. “Please give me something small of yours to take, as a memory,” I said to Mother. “Dedi can help you pick.”

  Father still slumped behind the table. Once they left the room, I went to him. “Now you must listen,” I said quietly. “I am no longer yours. You cannot beat me for telling you the truth now.”

  “You were never mine,” he said, voice as flat as h
is eyes.

  Was he disowning me? I swallowed my grief. I had to say this for Dedi and Mother. “You bade me to hold my tongue for the sake of my mother. If you truly care for her, you will take the gold and go. Tomorrow morning.”

  His eyes got wide. I could see the fear in them.

  “The Demon is in our river,” I said. “But perhaps you know that?”

  His head whipped up. “I felt something strange down there, a winding in my guts, a fist about my heart. But I saw and heard nothing.”

  “Perhaps only I can see her. She can hurt you all the same.” I bent close, very close, staring into his opaque eyes. “She said she would destroy all whom I loved. So run. Do not take lodgings near the water.”

  “Abandon my crops? Let the grapes rot? The goats bleat in pain from their swollen udders?”

  “You will find a way. If you leave before sunrise, no one will suspect I am not with you. However, if you do not…” I looked him in the eye, telling myself, steady now. He will not hit you when you have a knife at your side. “If you do not, all in the village shall learn you took gold from a Mannite in exchange for your daughter.”

  “You wouldn’t!” he exploded.

  “Don’t test me. I will be back soon enough.”

  Mother returned with Dedi. She kissed me on both cheeks and thrust a faded dark green tunic into my hands. It was soft silk, a relic from her wealthy family. “I can’t take this,” I stammered.

  She tried to smile. “When would I wear it? To plow the fields and scrub the floor? It is but a sweet memory, now yours.” She took my hand. “May Amur bless your way, grace your footsteps, lighten your load.”

  “There will be no more plowing. Father promised to give you a new start in a faraway town. You must leave before dawn.” For a moment I thought of telling her everything. The worry would eat up her rest, though, the little she got. Father loved my mother and sister like his own life. He would guide them until I could come back and deal with the Demon myself.

  I rushed on. “You and Dedi are no longer safe here. Leave word with Rheyna’s mother. I will find you.”

  Mother looked at him. “Well?”

  His voice was heavy. “Pack the cart. Don’t bother with the spades or hoes. Dedi, we need more tethers for the goats.” He did not spare me a glance.

  Shandon’s shadow fell across the door. “We must go.”

  I could not bear to say more. I hoisted the bundle. The moon was waning, bowing to the weight of a dark sky leavened with stars. The whickering of a goat carried through the soft night air.

  I hoped to see my family again soon. But it would never be the same. There was no home to return to.

  CHAPTER 6

  Luca

  Luca paced the floor of his eyrie. His eyelids sagged from fatigue. He’d rushed back from Caput without even spending the night, alarmed by the report of the Demon’s escape. The full moon allowed his ship to reach Vendrisi shortly after dawn. As soon as he entered his marble palace, he summoned the Royal Historian, told him what he needed from the archive, and then slept for a few hours. Until the dream.

  He was a dolphin, the heraldic animal of his house, supple and swift. The azure warm water cradled him like the arms of the Goddess Ilha, who welcomed the very first Luca to Vendrisi and her bed of clouds. Bubbles danced in the water, and rays of sun slanted into the blue, illumined messages from heaven.

  A monstrous creature, half woman and half dragon, writhed toward him. The sun beams disappeared. Her mouth yawned open, and darkness spread—inky, lapping at him.

  He woke up covered in sweat.

  If he were honest with himself, he hadn’t calmed down much since.

  He strode over to the south-facing window, opened it, and thrust his head outside. From this direction you couldn’t see the harbor with its prows, junks, schooners, and the renowned Vendrisi naval fleet. Only the flat expanse of open ocean met his eyes—turquoise today like the fine Vendrisi glassware that adorned his table. The water looked so peaceful, but Luca knew it was like a resplendent woman, moody and treacherous.

  It had imprisoned an ancient enemy, only to let her escape.

  He returned to his carved mahogany table, covered with a jumble of documents and reports. He shoved aside the bills of lading from the merchant fleet and a trade proposal to the northern Island of Claret, the ancestral home of the Vendrisi. All that remained was a yellowed parchment, the six-hundred-year-old agreement signed at the end of the Great War between the victors. The four signatures at the end were so faded Luca could scarcely decipher them, but he knew one of them belonged to his own forebear, Luca the Fifth Prime.

  Luca read through the scroll once and then a second time. It stated that the Vendrisi navy would transport the caged Demon to the open ocean and lower her into the depths. The consequences of an escape were not discussed.

  His closest friend, Mak, the Minister of Innovation, studied the forces of the natural world and how to apply them. Gravity was an example of a known force. Changing the course of a meteorite as the Demon had done, though, was a supernatural ability. For once, Mak couldn’t help him.

  That meant he was forced to turn to his sister Leyla, the Minister of Magic’s protégé.

  * * *

  An impatient knock on the door announced Leyla’s entrance. She could scarcely wait to dispense advice. But he could use it today.

  Before Leyla said anything, her eyes skimmed the eyrie. Luca noted her avid glance linger over the accoutrements of the Prime: the royal signet ring, the newest maps, the wind rose he’d commissioned from the best craftsman, using the new design he developed with Mak. Her blue eyes, so like Luca’s, gleamed with poorly concealed jealousy. Poor Leyla, so beautiful, and so bitter.

  She once thought they’d all be hers.

  “Speak,” he grunted, tired of her acquisitive gaze.

  “You bid me to come.”

  “I have need of you, and you know why,” he accused. “Your spies are everywhere.”

  She gave him a sweet smile, not bothering to deny it.

  “This Demon,” he said. “How serious a matter is it? I will seek counsel with others as well, so do not seek to mislead me.”

  “How serious is it?” Her scathing tone indicated her opinion of his question. “A potential catastrophe.”

  “For whom?”

  “The countries of the Heartland. Her first children, the Elementals, are still there, transformed into inert blocks of stone and locked up in a fortress of obsidian. If she sets them free, chaos will result.”

  Luca tried to recall what he’d learned in lore class about the Elementals. He’d been fifteen at the time and freshly initiated into the arts of love by one of his mother’s ladies-in-waiting. Frankly, most of what he could remember about that year was nothing he cared to discuss with his sister.

  “Are the Elementals dangerous?”

  Her eyes shone. “Is a hurricane dangerous? A lightning strike? An earthquake?”

  “That’s different. Those are not acts of intentional malice.”

  “Not when they happen in Vendrisi. The Heartland is steeped in old, deep magic, gnarled and tangled like roots. Things are different there.”

  Her tone implied that different was better, even if it involved a demon.

  He sat down, looking out the window, seeking to display a calm he did not feel. “What happens if the Elementals get out? Will they attack?”

  “The Water Demon spawned them. If anyone could unite them, she could. What an army they would make: the powers of nature led by the world’s oldest spirit.”

  Luca remembered the frightful creature from his nightmare. He imagined a shadowy army behind her. There would be uprooted trees, smoldering fires, stones thundering from the mountains. He felt dizzy. What would it be like to stand there, and see the universe disintegrate?

  And know you had done nothing to stop it.

  “Luca?” His sister’s voice was sharp.

  He blinked. He had to be at the harbor in the turn of
a sand clock, to personally receive a shipment of rubies from Farzia, and he was not bathed and dressed. Not for the first time, he wished he could send someone else. But it did not do to give offense, even for the ruler of Vendrisi.

  “I’ll convene the Council this evening. I need all the information you can find about the Demon.”

  * * *

  They met in the council room. The woven rattan chairs favored on Vendrisi were arranged in a crescent shape around the Prime’s great oak seat. The wooden shutters were opened wide, inviting in the cool westerly breeze, and the setting sun illumined the handsome faces of the royals.

  There were six siblings in Luca’s family. Two sisters had married into other royal houses. That left Luca, his oldest brother Calio, his brother Vasio, and Leyla. The Minister of Magic, a woman called Vulla; Samu, the Mercantile Advisor; and Mak, the Minister of Innovation, were also invited. Luca had studied the treaty with the Royal Historian and Samu for most of the afternoon.

  Luca passed around the chilled peach and ginger cordials himself before beginning. “Most of you know the Water Demon escaped. I call upon the Council to advise me on my decision. The Fifth Prime signed an agreement to remove the Demon from the Heartland six hundred years ago. We appear to be in no immediate danger from the Demon ourselves. However, there were three other signatories to the agreement. We must consider the possible outcomes for them.”

  Vasio stroked his goatee. “The question for Vendrisi is the relevance of those former allies.”

  Luca strode over to the map of the Heartland, pointing at the Western Wilderness. “The Elder Race provided the magic to capture the Demon and transform the Elementals into stone. After the war, they withdrew to their woods.”

  “Did you ask the Ambassadors from the Heartland if they’ve had contact?” Calio wanted to know.

  Samu answered. “Prime sent me today. The Elders may still live, but if so, they shun the human race. No man has traveled there; the trip is arduous and the welcome uncertain.”