Blood in the Fire (Timelaws Trilogy) (9 page)

“Glory, but you had us scared to death. When I saw you jump off that cliff I thought…” He trailed off. His hands did something I couldn’t see with the handkerchief.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

It was so good to hear her voice, I nearly cried. I swallowed the lump in my throat and kept walking toward them. “It was the only way to escape that fire.” Mark pulled the cloth away, and I saw it had been soaked in blood. “But you know something,” she continued. “I learned something about myself while I was falling.”

“Yeah, and what’s that?” I asked as I stepped around a tree and caught sight of her.

She grinned. “That I will never, ever, take up skydiving.”

Mark ruffled her hair. I dashed to her side and hugged her so tight she complained I would suffocate her to death. She was the one who jumped off a ledge. I held on a moment longer and then let go, looking her over as I pulled away. She had a bad-looking cut on her forehead and a few scrapes on her body. There was dried blood down the side of her face and along her neck as well as some on the shrubs behind her. She must have lain there unconscious. I looked above us and spotted some blood on a broken branch.

Liz stared at magic-boy, probably having some conversation with him inside their heads. His jaw remained set and his lips pressed together in a firm line. There was sympathy in her eyes and concern in his. She smiled softly at him and tilted her head. I wondered what they were saying.

“Come on. Help me up,” she demanded and started to stand. Mark grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. I noticed she faltered when she put weight on her right ankle.

“I’ve signaled Tamer with our coordinates,” Anton said. “He should have us teleported home in a few seconds or so.”

Liz noticed me studying her as she leaned on Mark’s shoulder to steady herself. “It’s just a sprain,” she said. “I’ve taken worse getting jumped.” I was about to argue, but suddenly, my vision blurred again and the forest began to fade out of view.
Boy am I glad to leave this place,
I thought as I caught one last sight of the fat, brown grass beneath my feet.

Centream–96th Cycle of the Wizard Calendar

Anthe’s Story

It was less than an hour after first sunset when Ketya and Brovkyl heard the voices outside. The townspeople were calling for Ketya to come out and face them. For a moment, neither made a move to leave the bed as they listened to Rothin lead the people’s cries.

At last, Brovkyl acknowledged Ketya’s pleading eyes with a sad smile before he slid out from underneath her and prepared to address them. He laid the book he’d been reading to her face down on the bed so that it would remain open to the right page. The text detailed the history of wizards. It talked about how the Ori had come to their planet from space to save wizard-kind from the life of disease, cold and hunger they had known in the caves. Brovkyl had suggested that there might be something Ketya could learn that would help her survive on her own. A few pages in, he had come to regret the recommendation. However, Ketya insisted that she wanted him to keep reading, so he had obliged.

So far, the only useful information was that the oris from which the forest was composed could provide more than just food and material from which to build shelter. Oris were the tallest plants known to wizards. At full size, they stretched taller than most wizard homes and produced a green slimy substance, meah, which covered their length. Cave wizards had harvested meah and used it to fuel fires. If all the meah was removed from the ori, than the plant died and the orange material beneath the meah hardened and could be used to build homes like the one Ketya and Brovkyl lived in. During the spring and summer seasons, the ori also produced red fruits, called pippons. These were suspended within the thick meah until they grew heavy enough to fall off and reproduce. The oris were seen as a source of life to the cave-dwelling ancestors, and so it was only fitting that they would name the benevolent space travelers after the revered plant.

However, it wasn’t long before the wizards’ warm feelings toward their benefactors began to shift. The planet-dwellers saw how much more powerful the Ori were and some of their leaders asked to be trained in attack spells and weapons technology. The Ori refused. This quickly led to tension between the Ori and the wizards and even divided wizard-kind. Many powerless citizens saw the Ori as protectors and tended to side with them. Women, who were often less powerful than their male counterparts, felt the same. Meanwhile, powerful wizard leaders spread fear of the Ori and their allies. Civil war ensued.

At first, the Ori refused to get embroiled in the war, but their allies were nearly wiped out and eventually the Ori stepped in. By then it was too late. The enemy’s numbers were too great for even the Ori. The war was decided and the wizard leaders who came into power took it upon themselves to punish those that had stood against them. They spread fear of the Ori and distrust of powerless and female wizards. Doing so gave them reason to maintain strong armies. Xenophobic propaganda went rampant.

“She is devastated,” Ketya heard Brovkyl say to the gathered crowd. His words pulled her out of her trance. “I understand that you must follow the law,” he continued, “but the law makes room for some compassion. Give her a few days to process the news.” He sounded authoritative. If it were not for his lack of powers, he would have been a leader of this town and possibly even of the whole region.

“How do we know she won’t run?” Rothin asked.

For a couple seconds, Brovkyl didn’t respond. Ketya imagined him regarding Rothin with cold eyes. Finally, his steady reply came. “If she was going to run, don’t you think she would have already?” he asked. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve always trusted Ketya to be a person of integrity.” She smiled. It was just like Brovkyl to use her integrity to sell her deception.

“We don’t know she hasn’t run already,” a woman replied. “Bring her here so we can see her.”

“And once you see her, you will go?” Brovkyl asked.

There was another moment of silence. “Yes,” Rothin replied, sounding defeated. Ketya’s heart swelled with relief. She wanted to thank Rothin, but she didn’t know what she would say. She was furious with him for his betrayal earlier that day. He had hurt her more deeply than she could have imagined him capable of. But a part of her still cared for him. It would be hard to forget the years of friendship and trust that had grown between them. Given time, he would come to regret his actions today.

Naimi, who had woken from her slumber by the fireplace, came into the bedroom and hopped onto the bed. Ketya reached back and gave her a heartfelt scratch behind the ear. Naimi made a little gurgling noise to show her pleasure, then coiled up on Brovkyl’s pillow.

Not long after, the front door opened and the sounds of multiple footsteps carried through the house. Ketya pulled the blanket up over herself and curled up. So far, their plan was working. She didn’t move when Brovkyl and the others crowded into her bedroom. It was not large enough for everyone, and many people remained in their living room and on their porch. Naimi flared her red scales and huffed little puffs of smoke at the unexpected guests. At Brovkyl’s command, she retreated under the bed.

Brovkyl moved to the edge of the mattress and gently removed the blanket from Ketya. He stroked her hair away from her face so the people could see it was her. She looked up at him, but ignored the rest. He didn’t smile. One of the wizards finished a spell and the room was drowned in a white light.
I guess our lantern wasn’t bright enough,
Ketya speculated. Naimi made some more huffing noise from below the bed.

After regarding Ketya for another moment, Brovkyl dropped his hand from her hair and turned to face Rothin. The crowd understood and began to leave. The ordeal was over.

“We’ll give her a few days,” Rothin told Brovkyl before he left the room. It wasn’t a threat. It seemed he was offering to keep the people at bay until Ketya could escape. Suddenly she wondered if his display of theatrics had always been intended to win over the townspeople. It put him in a position to control them. She would never know for sure. Naimi rejoined Ketya on the bed and Ketya comforted the small creature with a belly rub.

Brovkyl turned back toward them and smiled at the sight of his pet practically melting from bliss under Ketya’s hand. “You were always her favorite,” he said.

“That’s true,” Ketya confirmed, although she knew full well that Naimi was Brovkyl’s pet from when she was just a few weeks old. The creature regarded him with unsurpassed affection.

“Time to get you guys packed up,” Brovkyl said, his voice turned gruff. He kept his face turned away from Ketya so that she wouldn’t see the grief in his eyes. “You’ll leave in a few hours.”

With his statement, Ketya’s body turned numb. She reached out for Brovkyl’s hand, but he stepped away at her touch. “Brovkyl,” she whispered. The agony in her voice forced him to turn and at the sight of her broken face, he closed the distance between them and kneeled by her bed. His large hands gathered up her small ones and he pressed them to his forehead.

“I’ll miss you,” he said.

***

When they had finished packing, Brovkyl suggested they return to bed and continue reading. She couldn’t leave until it was certain that all the townsfolk would be asleep. The book was supposed to be a distraction. It hadn’t worked, but her body and mind were so exhausted from the day’s emotions that she did fall asleep to the sound of Brovkyl’s deep, rhythmic voice.

It seemed Ketya had only been dreaming a few moments when an orange glow danced behind her eyelids and forced her to wake. Groggy at first, the rancid sent of burning crop brought her to full alert. She bolted out of bed and darted to the window.

“Brovkyl, wake up,” she yelled. “Our field is on fire.”

“Not just our field,” he said, running in from the living room. She hadn’t noticed him leave their bed. “The whole town. I went to the road and saw it. The wizard’s army is burning down Centream.”

At that moment as if to emphasize his point, a large ball of fire shot through the sky and landed in the distance. Another cloud of black smoke mushroomed from the site and grew to merge with its towering counterpart.

“Why?” she yelled. Brovkyl looked at her, but didn’t reply.

“How did they find out?” she asked.

“You have to start moving,” he said, picking up an agitated Naimi who was jumping at his feet. He handed her to Ketya. “Perhaps Rothin told them,” he suggested. Ketya refused to believe that. “Or his father did. It doesn’t matter,” Brovkyl continued. He closed the distance to their closet and grabbed the pack they had prepared for her.

“Would the army really destroy Centream just for giving me a few days?” she asked.

Brovkyl shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “It would seem so. You have to go. Now.”

“Come with…”

Ketya never finished her sentence. A ball of fire soared passed their roof and landed in the field outside their home. Accompanied by a deafening sound, the force from the impact tore through the ori material and stone composing the walls of their house. Still clinging to Naimi, Ketya was lifted off her feet and thrown into some furniture. She felt her body pound against the hard surface as she was propelled through the crumbling wall that had separated their bedroom and dining area. Burning air singed her skin and left her mouth immediately parched. Finally, she landed on the floor in a cloud of smoldering ash, ori debris and mattress fragments. The nauseating scent of burnt material and crop overwhelmed her nose. Despite the stinging heat, she blinked her dry eyes open and observed the torn up bed that she had slammed into. If not for the mattress serving as a soft shield, she would be dead.

“Brovkyl,” she screamed. The smoldering ash seared her throat, but she screamed again and scrambled to her feet, clasping Naimi close with one arm. “Brovkyl!”

No sound returned to her, save the crackling of the fire eating her home. She scrambled through the debris and made her way to the gaping wall. It led to the heap where their bedroom had been. Fragments of metal and ori material scrapped at her legs as she pushed her way through. The ceiling in the room was partially collapsed, leaving only a narrow opening close to the wall. She squeezed in and searched the rubble for signs of a body. The smoke here was too heavy to breathe. Her mind began to fog. But if Brovkyl were here, this was her only chance to find him.

Naimi might bolt if I set her down.
Ketya needed both her arms. She lowered Naimi to the floor. The dragon-creature made a loud squeaky sound that resembled crying. “Stay here,” Ketya instructed softly, although she was sure Naimi didn’t hear her over the roar of the growing fire. Then she placed her hands on the collapsed roof. The hot surface pricked her palms as though it were a bed of searing needles. Still she summoned all her sinew and pushed with every ounce she had into the fallen barrier. The debris beneath her feet gave way, and she nearly slipped, but the roof didn’t move an inch. Darkness was closing in on her. She needed air.

Ketya wanted to scream for Brovkyl again, but all she could do was cough and gasp. Instead, she scooped up Naimi and slipped through the gap back into her dining room. She thought the escape from there to the back door would be easier, but the fire had spread too fast. Blazing chunks of roof rained down from above and littered the path to the kitchen where the back door remained firm. Ketya heard a loud crack and looked up in time to see her modest chandelier come crashing down into the dining table, sending glass and thin metal flying. She turned her back to it and huddled over Naimi. Hot fragments pelted her back. When she turned, she saw a mushroom of ori dust expanding from where her dining table once was.

Peering through the dust, Ketya could only see a couple feet ahead. However, the newly formed powder had quelled some of the fire. She stumbled forward, clinging to Naimi and not paying heed to the debris that scraped her skin as she fought to find a way out.
I need air
.

Finally making it to the back door, Ketya pulled on the hot handle only to realize that it was stuck shut. She lowered Naimi and yanked again to no avail. Could she get some water to cool it down? She looked over to the far end of the kitchen where she’d stored a single bucket of water. It wouldn’t work.

Giving up, Ketya collapsed to the ground and pulled Naimi protectively to her heart. “I’m sorry, love,” she whispered, not sure herself if she were speaking to Naimi or Brovkyl. Her vision was nearly black, and, with the certainty of her death, came a strange sense of peace. She pictured Brovkyl’s smile and started to let go.

Suddenly, the back door gave way to a strong gust. The wind shoved her back and pushed a revivifying breath of air into her lungs. Her eyes popped open and at the sight of her escape path, panic and hope returned. She could not let Naimi and her child die like this. Clinging to the fabric of her dress, the creature peered at her with sad, terrified eyes. “I’ll get you out,” Ketya reassured as she scooped her up and burst out the door into cool, ash-filled air.

She had to run. The wizard army had destroyed her town as punishment for not killing her child right away. They would be here soon. So she forced the burning muscles in her legs to propel her forward, and she forced her mind to steer clear of the one thought that would stop her in her tracks: Brovkyl might still be alive.