The Fire Mages' Daughter (40 page)

One of the commanders coughed. “Most Powerful…”

“Yes?”

He looked embarrassed. “There is smoke to the south. From a part of the merchants’ quarter.”

“Smoke? Not chimney smoke? A burning building, you mean?”

He nodded, still not looking me in the eye.

A fire. And no one able to put it out. So now the city would be razed to the ground while we sat around discussing what to do. Step by step we learned more but still had no way to turn the tide. Here we sat, safe in our refuge, but helpless to break the siege.

We were trapped here until the Clans left or we all died of starvation. And how much of Kingswell would be left by then?

I was restless that night. We all went to bed early, but after I’d dismissed the servants, I lit some extra lamps and picked up a book about a war with the Blood Clans that had happened several hundred years ago. It was written more recently than that, so the accuracy was questionable, but it was still a vivid insight into their methods.

And nothing that Ly-haam was doing fitted. Sending riders into enemy territory without troops on foot? Marching straight past a fortress filled with enemies? That was not how they operated. I didn’t understand him, that was the truth of it. Yet I was war leader, it was my responsibility to understand it, to plan for it, to counter it.

My mind was empty. I had no ideas left in me. That made me a failure. All my life, I’d failed. Failed at being the independent daughter my mother wanted. Failed to become a mage. Failed at my attempts to escape Yannassia’s clutches. Failed to prevent this nightmare war. And Zandara – if only I’d made more effort to befriend her over the years. Now I was single-handedly losing the war. Kingswell was lost already, and it was only a matter of time before the Clans turned their attention to the rest of Bennamore, and the whole realm was destroyed. It was a disaster and it was my fault.

I was lonely and miserable, and wanted Arran so badly it hurt. If I could just hide away with him in our apartment – no, better still, Zendronia or some other small town. Nothing to worry about except ourselves. No war, no role as war leader or Drashonor, nothing to do except read and be together. A little house, just the two of us, and perhaps some children…

A tear trickled down one cheek, but I brushed it away angrily. I would
not
cry. I got up and paced back and forth. The room was small, with plain furniture that reminded me of my bedroom at home. There, I’d spent endless hours in bed, sleeping, waiting for the summer sunshine to perk me up, or for Mother to give me a little magic. Now, I only slept well when Arran was beside me.

Such thoughts were futile. I had to focus my mind. If I could just think a little harder about it, some solution would pop into my head. Or perhaps tomorrow the mages would find a new spell that would help. Or the commanders would devise some way to…

Curse Ly-haam to the roots of the earth! If only I could take his magic from him, then all this would go away. Until the next time, perhaps, but it would give us a respite. Give us time to recover, and find a permanent solution.

Although at the back of my mind, I knew there was only one permanent solution. We would never be safe until Ly-haam was dead. I shuddered, not liking to think about that.

But where was he? That was the question. He must be far, far away, since I could barely detect him from the fortress.

And yet…

That didn’t make sense. He was controlling all these creatures and riders with his mind, and they were right here in Kingswell. Maybe he was here, too? Hidden, somehow, or magically shielded. But if he was within range of his army, he must be within
my
range, too.

I sat down, calm again. Here at least was something I could try. Clearing my mind, I reached out with my inner senses, all my focus bent on finding him. At first, I roamed nearby, ignoring the rats and cats in the Keep, and the eagles on the roof, stretching out. Beyond that, I could detect some of the riders, very faintly, but although I was aware of them, they were not close enough for me to take their magic. It was as if a gossamer-thin strand connected me to each one of them, too fragile for me to use. One pull, and the thread would break.

Ignoring them, my mind floated free. Somewhere out there, Ly-haam directed his riders and filled them with his magically fuelled hatred. And every sun, his power must be growing, as his magic increased. Surely he couldn’t hide that power from me? Wherever he was, I would find him. I let my mind drift onwards, not consciously seeking Ly, but open to whatever connections might appear.

There!

Something just on the edge of my awareness, far to the northwest, instantly gone. But now I had something to look for, something to home in on.

Again! And this time, I held on, pulled it towards me, opened my mind to it fully.

The anger in him hurled me backwards so hard, I was thrust into the chair-back with painful abruptness. But I held on to him with grim determination. He was not going to slither out of my reach!

Anger, boiling anger, that was the main emotion swirling through his mind. But beneath that, misery. Despair. Poor Ly. He was utterly exhausted. How much energy it must take, to control all those people and animals. One mind directing them all. And at first, they had travelled all through the night without rest. He was on the edge of collapse. But still the hatred roared through him, and he was helpless to prevent it.

His magic was detectable, but even though I knew he must be a raging cauldron of magic by now, it was muted to me. Like the riders, I was aware of Ly, but the thread was too thin for me to take his magic, or even to reach into his turbulent consciousness and talk to him. He was beyond talking, I think.

But I could see through his eyes. At first, just his knees, as his head drooped. Then he lifted it a little, and I saw a room, stone-built, with no furnishings. Ly sat on the floor, one knee bent under him. A stone oil lamp burned on the floor. By its light, I could see a great golden paw. Ly’s lion.

Then, darkness. And a few heartbeats later, I lost him.

He was asleep.

~~~~~

For two suns I connected my mind to Ly’s as often as I could. Each time it was easier, but whether because he was becoming more detectable to me, or I was getting better at it, I couldn’t tell. It seemed to me that his anger was waning a little, as exhaustion caught up with him. He would fall asleep without warning, at any hour, but then he would be awake again soon after, he and the lion roaring in unison. Then his head would droop again.

And he never left the room of stone. Nor were there any windows to give me a glimpse of his surroundings. Was he somewhere in the black-bark forest? Perhaps he was, for the stone room was like none I’d ever seen. But I would have given anything for a look at the terrain. How was I to find him, otherwise?

And all the while the city burned. The air was full of smoke now, the first fire spreading to neighbouring districts, and two more separate fires springing up, turning the night an angry red. If only it would rain! Clouds loomed over us, dark with promising moisture, but not a drop fell.

The beasts were seldom seen around the Keep now, driven away from the centre of the city by their fear of the flames. In time, no doubt, they would find their way into the countryside, discover the ready food supply in the fields, and then Bennamore would be lost.

In desperation, I was driven to try talking to Ly-haam. I was afraid to attempt it, for the connection between us seemed so flimsy, and if I broke it, perhaps he would slip away from me. But then I was getting nowhere with it, so there was nothing to lose.

I chose a time when he seemed to be at his most alert, late in the morning. I shut myself away in my room at the mages’ house, where I could be undisturbed.

“Ly?” I whispered, feeling very foolish. Of course, nothing happened. “Ly, are you there? Can you hear me? Demons, Ly, answer me! You were quick enough to talk when you wanted me to go up on the roof. I didn’t want to talk to
you
then. Well, now I do. I need to know where you are. Ly! Answer me.
Ly-haam!”

The door crashed open, and the two mage guards who’d been watching outside my door came rushing in, swords bared. They looked around, bewildered. “Are you all right, Most Powerful?”

“Yes, yes. I’m sorry, I was just… talking to myself.”

They exchanged glances and, without a word, sheathed their swords and stumped out again. The door closed with a soft click.

“Oh, Ly,” I whispered. “Why are you doing this? Do you hate us so much? Did we really do you such a terrible injury? We dispersed a few small villages, that was all. No one was hurt by it. You could have helped us to harvest the black-bark. We could have given you so much. We could have been
friends.
”

The tears poured down my cheeks but I didn’t care. I was stretched beyond endurance, exhausted and miserable and terrified. I threw myself down on the bed and wept for all that might have been, that was now destroyed. It was too much, and I couldn’t take any more.

I must have slept for a while, for when I next looked up the setting sun was painting the sky in myriad shades of red. Or perhaps the fires were much worse, I couldn’t tell, and I had no mind to go up to the roof to watch the city burning.

Automatically, I reached out for Ly-haam.

“Demons, Ly, why by all the gods did you do this? You’re an evil man, and I hate you!”

And something shifted in his mind. It was as if the clouds of his aggression had parted and let through a shaft of sunlight. Just for a moment, I was able to reach the real Ly, the man beneath the raging exterior.

“Princess?”
I felt his shock, but then a beam of pure pleasure.
“Princess!”

Somehow I knew it wouldn’t last, and I had to get something – anything – out of him before the clouds rolled back and he was lost to me again. “Ly! Where are you?”

“Princess! Help me!”

“Yes, but I need to know where you are.”

A whisper in my head, no more than a sigh.
“Island…
”

And then he was gone.

~~~~~

“Island? What island?” Mother’s voice was sharper than usual. She’d been spending the afternoon with Cal and the children in their apartment in the mages’ house, but she’d nodded off and now she was tetchy from being woken abruptly. Sallorna watched her warily, her eyes huge at the adult talk going on around her. Markell had already been sent out of the room for chattering, but Sallorna sat as quiet as a cat. She looked as if she were trying not to breathe in case anyone remembered she was there and sent her away, too.

“Ly-haam’s island, love,” Cal said gently. “You remember, the one he took Drina to when she was kidnapped. The one she escaped from.”

“But that’s so far away!” Mother said. “How long would it take to fly there?”

“I left in the middle of the night and arrived at sunset,” I said.

“Oh, no, no, no,” Mother said. “I can’t fly that far, not all at once.”

“I’m the only one who needs to go,” I said. “So long as I have plenty of magic inside me to start with it won’t be so bad.”

“Nonsense!” Mother and Cal spoke in unison.

Cal went on, “You’re not going anywhere alone, Drina. And you’ll need Kyra’s power. And Kyra isn’t going anywhere without me.”

Mother smiled tiredly at the fierceness in his voice. She knew there was no point arguing.

“Well, we can take it in stages,” I said. “First to the fortress…” Arran! A bubble of happiness rose inside me at the thought. “Then on to somewhere near the forward camp. From there it is only a few hours’ flying.”

“Three suns?” Cal said. “Well, it can’t be helped, I suppose.”

“The city could be burned to the ground by then,” I said.

“Most of the buildings are stone,” Mother said. “And the mages are working on rain spells. Haven’t you noticed all the clouds building up? There should be enough to try it tonight.”

Rain spells! Of course! Why hadn’t I thought of that?

“You’ve been doing that in secret? When were you going to tell me about it?”

“Only when we were reasonably sure of success,” Mother said, with a half-smile. “No point getting your hopes up if we couldn’t even move a few clouds. But that’s done now, so all we have to do is to make them rain.”

But I knew how uncertain spells were. “Will it work?”

“Naturally,” Cal said, proudly. “Your mother devised the new variances to direct the rain where it’s needed, and she scribed all the spellpages, so they will work at full power. We might have time to see them burned before we leave.”

“Well – we
hope
it will work,” she amended.

“I should like to watch.”

“We will all go,” Cal said. “It’s about time we mages did something useful in this war. There’s not been much more than hand-wringing so far.”

~~~~~

I loved watching spellpages being burned. There was something about the simple ritual that was more comforting to me than the endless readings in the Sun Temple, or the oddly discordant music of the Moon Temple. How many times had I watched my mother standing solemnly before the crucible, seeing her spells flame to life, knowing the magic was taking effect? It was awe-inspiring, and far more impressive to my childish self than Cal’s hand-waving and flamboyant poses. His thought magic had the same effect as a spellpage, but his antics drew attention to his own performance, instead of focusing on the majesty of magic, as it should be.

We gathered in the spellarium of the mages’ house, which was just a room set aside for the scribing of spellpages, using the proper magically enhanced paper, quill and ink. There was also a large crucible, the metal blackened with age and countless burnings. In the centre of the room, a fire flickered and danced.