Shadow Fire (3 page)

"The mayor is ultimately responsible for the decisions regarding this town, no?" I ask, not expecting an answer. "He's the one who condones… no… encourages the town to send a defenseless girl, by herself, across a dangerous continent to monster-infested ruins to find the Goddess Statue that was stolen twenty-five years ago. Not once has anyone other than a priest or two accompanied the Chosen on her journey. Never. And all this is based on some random, homeless monk weaving an incredible story about sending a girl between the ages of fourteen and eighteen to chase after the relic. Then, to top it all off, the elders paid him thirty silver pieces for a map of the ruins. Am I really the only one who sees the problem here?"

"Of course not," Celeste says in a soft voice so out of character for the young blonde. She runs her hand through her curls before winding one long corkscrew around her finger. "This whole thing is absurd. But what can we do?"

"Heh, I don't even get a priest to accompany me since the last two died five years ago escorting poor Bianca." When I realize I'm wringing my hands together, I clench them into tight fists. "I'm so scared," I whisper into the silent room, giving voice to the fears that have been plaguing me for three weeks.

Images of Bianca's broken body fill my mind… so much dried blood, limbs bent in impossible directions, her head caved in on the right side. I was with her mother the day her dead body was brought back to Verdane. She made it so far, died just a few miles from the Breven Ruins.

Will my family cry over my mutilated body just as Bianca's did?

"I know this'll sound mean, but it's your last night here… all your friends and family are waiting at the tavern to say goodbye." Brinda breaks the overbearing silence with her soft voice. "We just n-need…" She stops her sentence as her tears overflow, streaking down her face. "A-Ashlyn, you have t-to come back… p-promise!"

Her speech is halted by wracking sobs, though her point is clear. I need to be strong tonight for myself and my family. I'll have plenty of time to breakdown later, once I'm far away from this blasted town. Brinda falls to her knees on the floor next to my bed, wrapping her slender arms around my waist.

"I can't promise that," I say, pausing when Brinda's mournful brown eyes fly to my face. "It'd be a lie. What I can promise is I'll do everything in my power to finish this quest and return alive and well. I'm not ready to die. I mean my first kiss sucked. I won't even consider dying until I get one of those toe-curling kisses like in the books under Celeste's mattress," I say, trying to make light of the situation.

"Cory was your first kiss?" Celeste asks, skepticism radiating from her cobalt eyes. When I nod, her expression changes to one of pity… no, not pity but empathy. "I'm so sorry, Ash. You've been through so much and that pompous jerk goes and destroys your first kiss." Her eyes spark with the determination and fire I'm used to seeing in them. "Cory will suffer. Mark my words… he will pay for what he did to you. No one messes with my sister!"

"Ya know, I actually feel sorry for the heartless jerk now," I say as tears come to my eyes to belie the smile on my face and the laughter in my voice. "Well, sis, what am I wearing tonight?"

Celeste holds up a beautiful indigo dress, her pride and joy. She spent several months on the intricate embroidery adorning the neckline, hem and cuffs.

"Well, I was planning on dressing you in this," she says, caressing the rich velvet. "But since you're sneakin' out tonight we need to find something travel worthy, huh?" She shimmies out of her plain yellow work dress and pulls the indigo velvet over her head. "If you can't wear it then I will," she says, twirling in front of the mirror, her long blonde curls swinging around her body.

"Uh, what's wrong with what I'm already wearing?"

Celeste's jaw drops as she stares at me through the reflection in the mirror, watching in horror while I play with one of the larger holes torn into my leggings during Cory's attack.

"Oh, a joke, right?" Celeste says when she regains her senses. "So not funny…"

"I thought you wanted to dress up for Zane," Brinda says before disappearing into our closet.

"What's the point?" I ask with a forlorn sigh. "Even if I had a chance with a guy like him, I only have a few hours left 'til I sneak away."

"One passionate night together?" Celeste suggests, her blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "Well, one hour. You can do quite a lot in an hour, trust me."

"Uh, yeah…" I trail off unsure how to finish the statement.

Celeste has a reputation in Verdane as a fun time. Until now I thought it was exaggerated. I just admitted Cory was my first kiss. I don't think I'm ready for what Celeste seems to have in mind.

"I finished sewing your two sets of travel clothes this morning," Brinda says, handing me a small folded pile. "Good thing Mom helped me with the finishing touches since I was planning to pull an all-nighter tonight to finish them."

Nervous about what she intends to dress me in, I hold my breath as I unfold the top garments, two velvet bodysuits, one royal blue and the other forest green. Both have long sleeves and leggings, which will keep me warm on the cold nights out on the road. Tomorrow is the first day of spring, yet the weather at night is still as cold as it was several weeks ago. There are also two short-sleeved shirts, one white with green leaves embroidered along the sleeves and hem. The other is a solid baby blue. The two white miniskirts are embroidered to match the shirts, green leaves on one and cornflower blue flowers on the other.

"These are far too nice for travel," I say, admiring the beautiful garments. "I'll be sleeping on the ground every night…they'll be ruined within a day."

"That's why we got you this," Celeste says, handing me a package wrapped in brown butcher paper with a blue ribbon tying it closed.

I tear open the gift, my breath catching in my throat as the wrapping falls to the floor. With trembling fingers I hold up the rich blue velvet cloak, watching the fabric as it unrolls to its full length.

"How?" I ask in a breathless whisper.

Brinda wraps the long cloak around my body, smiling as she pulls the hood up over my head. It's a full-length cloak, the hem reaching just above my ankles. I've always admired the colorful velvet cloaks the wealthy and nobility wear, but we could never even dream of affording something so extravagant. Pulling the cloak around my body, I rub my cheek against the luxurious fabric. My heart swells and my lips curl into a smile when I glance back up at my sisters.

"I took extra shifts at the tavern," Celeste says, fidgeting with her dress while watching me twirl in the cloak. "Brinda took in extra sewing. We wanted you to have this so bad. You need something to keep you warm on your journ…" She trails off, glancing away so I don't see the sorrow I can hear in her voice.

"Thank you so… so much," I whisper, closing my eyes in an attempt to keep the tears forming at bay.

"Enough crying already," Celeste exclaims through watery blue eyes. "Let's get you ready and head to the tavern. You can't keep everyone waiting all night… and I can practically guarantee Zane will be there."

Her words put a smile back on my face and I can't help but laugh. As I allow my sisters to fuss around me, I retreat into my mind losing myself to my thoughts. Instead of the morose path I expect my wandering mind to take, images of the auburn-haired mercenary fill my head. This isn't something I'm used to. In all my seventeen years, while my friends and sisters talked and giggled about boys, I never participated. The village boys never caught my interest. Not even one. Yet as images of Zane continue to swirl around in my mind, I find I have the opposite problem.

I can't stop thinking about him.

Chapter Three

Party

"There," Celeste says, brushing the last of the tangles from my thick copper hair. "Look in the mirror, you look beautiful."

She says it with such reverence. I hazard a quick glance into the large oval mirror hanging on the wall near the door. My heart leaps in surprise; I almost don't recognize the young woman staring back at me. Though, truth be told, I can't remember the last time I took the time to gaze at myself in the mirror.

My appearance hasn't been important to me in four years, the exact moment still seared in my brain. So much like today but with a different, much older man. I managed to fight him off and run away, but the reason for his attack was the same as Cory's: my beauty and, of course, my long fiery hair.

He wasn't even punished by our justice system, having been wealthy enough to buy off the officials with an overflowing pouch of silver. No, he received his punishment from the fists of my older brothers, Abel and Jess. The next morning I raided Abel's closet and took his old clothes, foregoing the more feminine attire my mother had sewn for me. I also took a dagger to my hair, cutting off my long braid at the nape of my neck, throwing it to the dirt with fierce joy.

Perhaps if I wasn't pretty the men wouldn't hurt me.

As I stared at the braid lying at my feet, I vowed to do whatever it took to become stronger, to be a fighter. When I begged Jess and Abel for martial arts lessons, I found myself enrolled in the academy that same day. Through the years my hair grew back while my strength and confidence soared. Living with a strong father and two wonderful older brothers was a constant reminder of how decent men behave.

For a long time I thought the innocent girl I was disappeared that night. A harsh laugh escapes as I remember how naïve I was and still am. I didn’t expect Cory's attack and wasn't ready for it. The little rat waited until I was exhausted and at a disadvantage. Slimy coward. My gut always told me he was trouble. Never again will I ignore my instincts. Zane’s arrival was fortuitous to say the least.

My lips curve into a smile, the threat he made to Cory still ringing in my ears. Zane reminds me so much of my older brothers — all three exude strength and kindness. A strange flutter passes through my stomach at the mere thought of Zane. I'm glad my sisters spent so much time fussing with my appearance, ignoring my nasty remarks and outrage.

"You sure he'll be there tonight?" I ask, gazing at Celeste, clasping my shaking hands together to hide my excitement.

"If he isn't, I'll go to the inn and drag him there," Celeste says laughing. She seems thrilled with my infatuation.

"What do you think of your travel clothes?' Brinda asks, her wavering tone betraying her nervousness.

It's obvious she spent many hours sewing these. The blue flowers embroidered on the hem of the skirt appear so real I wouldn't be surprised if one fluttered to the floor. Grabbing my dagger from the bed, I buckle the sheath around my right thigh thrilled the skirt is just long enough to conceal it.

"They're fantastic," I say, still admiring the fine stitching and the soft fabrics. "This velvet bodysuit is the most comfortable thing I've ever worn… you've been holding out on us."

She grins at the compliment.

"I wanted you to look the part, you know," she says, her words bubbling out in her excitement. "The brave maiden setting out on a dangerous journey to save not only her own town but the entire continent of Meliar. It's so romantic."

"It's not romantic until you throw in a handsome prince," I reply sighing.

"How about a handsome mercenary instead?" Celeste asks with a sly wink.

"Yeah, like that would ever happen… hi Zane, you probably make bags of gold for each mission, but here's a silver coin, will you accompany me to our deaths?"

As the words leave my mouth I regret them. The light mood is gone, lost in the despair of an uncertain future. No, perhaps certain future is more accurate.

"Don't talk like that… I hate it," Celeste says, crossing her arms over her chest and staring at her feet. When she gazes back at me her cobalt eyes are wild, a bit too bright. "I mean you're strong, Ash. If anyone can survive this, you can. I'd go with you if I wouldn't just be in the way."

"Let's get your gear together and head to the tavern," Brinda says, the twelve-year-old acting the mother as Celeste and I teeter on the verge of falling apart. She takes Celeste's arm, leading her to the door.

Taking a deep, cleansing breath, I follow my sisters but pause in the doorway. My eyes roam around, memorizing the room I grew up in. So much happened here, so much love, angst, happiness and sorrow. The memories begin to avalanche, threatening to overwhelm me. Wrenching my fingers from the doorframe, I race down the stairs after my sisters. Brinda's in the kitchen filling the brown leather pack sitting on the kitchen table with a ridiculous amount of food, humming off key as she works. My eyes glaze over again; another deluge of memories floods me, leaving me gasping in its wake.

"Hey, Ash, you in there?" Celeste calls out, shaking her hand in front of my face, ending my reverie. "What about the fifty silver pieces the town's supposed to give you? The mayor won't be at the party tonight. He'd die before being seen with us 'common folk'. How will you get the money?"

"I don't need it," I reply, dismissing her concern. "Tell him tomorrow I borrowed it from the family funds. Use it to help out until Dad can find work."

"But—"

"Don't worry about me," I say, cutting her off. "I'll make whatever money I need along the way hunting and foraging. I'll be fine, I promise."

"I finished packing. There's enough food for several days. Um, lots of jerky, some cheese, bread and a few sandwiches," Brinda says. She hands me the rather heavy pack, and I hoist it up on one shoulder. "Oh, and I packed only one canteen of water, any more would be too heavy to carry."

"Are you ready?" Celeste asks, staring at me with her head tipped to the side. I can't help but wonder just what's going on behind those pensive blue eyes.

"Yeah, I just need to hide the pack in the bushes."

I stride from my childhood home without a backward glance. Once the pack is concealed in the foliage, along with my bow and arrows, I suck in a deep breath and follow my sisters away from the house.

The village is quiet as we make our way down the main street to the tavern. Brinda, Celeste and I walk in utter silence. The chirps of the crickets seem deafening in the unusual stillness. We plod along, shoulders slumped, eyes downcast. To an outsider we must appear more like a funeral procession than a group of girls heading to a party. Parties are meant to celebrate something, a birth, a marriage, the completion of an apprenticeship. Who would throw a party to send a maiden off to her death? And why in the Goddess's name did I agree to attend this blatant absurdity?