Child of Flame (Crown of Stars 4)

Alain did not raise his voice. “I will not leave them.”

Laoina sighed sharply as the unseen man replied. “He says you must stay here, then.”

Would Alain leave her to stay with the dogs? Adica thrust the ugly thought aside. “I won’t go on if he does not. Let a way be made to bring the dogs with us.”

An argument ensued. Other voices joined in, whispers cutting in from the darkness.

“They are not liking this stubbornness,” explained Laoina. “They say they understand the mountain roads and you do not. They ask, do you mean to jeopardize all the coming generations of humankind for the sake of two dogs and this man?”

“Who can say they are not more important than you and I can know?” Her own teacher had spoken with this imperious tone, and many of the people in the Deer tribes had resented her for it even while fearing her. Adica had chosen a different way, but now she fell back on what she knew would work. “Are we to leave behind a man who can be seen by an eye that is blind to the mortal world? If he must walk only with spirit guides, then so be it. Find a way it can be done, and do it quickly.”

There was silence, followed by Laoina’s soft translation. Footsteps padded away, unseen. “They beg your pardon, Holy One. We must wait while they fetch what we will need.”

Alain put his arms around her. She rested her head on his chest, closed her eyes, wanting peace even for a brief while. He said nothing; he did not need to. He would stay with her until the end. That was what the Holy One had promised her. Sorrow and Rage pushed against her, moist noses slipping between the braided cords of her skirt to wet her skin. Laoina shifted, tapping at the floor with the butt of her spear as she waited. The erratic rhythm lulled Adica. Alain’s body was so solid against hers. He hummed softly, as patient as the wind.

Let her fall forever into this moment and none other, let all that came before and all that would come after not exist, only this. She dozed, or slipped into a vision; in the darkness it was hard to tell.

She walks into a blazing hall of light. Brightly dressed people throng the hall. They are so many that she cannot count them, far more even than all the folk who live in her village. How can a single building be so large that it can hold such a crowd? Their speech, their songs, the platters on which they eat, the tide of food flowing in and out of the hall, all this overwhelms her. Surely she has fallen into the Fat One’s hall, overflowing with plenty. She never thought it would look so bewildering, a path with no landmarks she can recognize.

Yet there is one other wandering like a lost soul through the hall, unseen by any of the feasting multitude. At first she believes it is another woman, naked except for the bow she holds in her hand and a single arrow fletched with a phoenix’s feather. Naked except for her hair, hanging like a veil across her torso. A ring blazes with blue-white fire on her hand.

Then she recognizes her mistake. It is not a woman but a creature of flame in whose heart burns a blue-hot fire as bright as the blazing ring.

knelt beside Horn’s body, but before he could touch the slack corpse, her young apprentice yanked his hand away.

“Shu-Sha calls for our aid,” said Two Fingers. “Yet how can it be that she has called to us over such a great distance, using Horn’s body?”

There was no time to ponder such questions. “We must go quickly if we are to have any chance to save the Holy One,” said Adica. “Horn said there was a path we could take.”

Two of Horn’s people came forward and spoke in low voices to Laoina. “Come,” said the Akka woman. She led them into a tunnel, torches bobbing alongside.

Two Fingers examined Alain’s injured hand by torchlight. He shook his head, raising a puzzled eyebrow. “It heals,” he said, before turning to grasp Adica’s hands in his own. “Weave well, little sister.” Then he was gone, so fast, and the light vanished with him.

Probably she would never see him again.

She caught in a gasp of pain. The darkness was like claws, tearing at her, exposing the fear she had so ruthlessly shoved away all this time. She struggled to fight it back down, to seal it up so that it would not betray her.

In the darkness, Laoina spoke in the tongue of Horn’s people and was answered by a man. She translated. “This person has come to guide us. We must climb down into the heart of the Earth. There lie paths unknown to humankind, where the Bent People live. They are the ones who can guide us on unseen roads to the fort of Shu-Sha’s tribe.” Another hurried dialogue ensued, and Laoina went on. “This man says, where we go, dogs cannot follow. Dogs we must leave.”

Alain did not raise his voice. “I will not leave them.”

Laoina sighed sharply as the unseen man replied. “He says you must stay here, then.”

Would Alain leave her to stay with the dogs? Adica thrust the ugly thought aside. “I won’t go on if he does not. Let a way be made to bring the dogs with us.”

An argument ensued. Other voices joined in, whispers cutting in from the darkness.

“They are not liking this stubbornness,” explained Laoina. “They say they understand the mountain roads and you do not. They ask, do you mean to jeopardize all the coming generations of humankind for the sake of two dogs and this man?”

“Who can say they are not more important than you and I can know?” Her own teacher had spoken with this imperious tone, and many of the people in the Deer tribes had resented her for it even while fearing her. Adica had chosen a different way, but now she fell back on what she knew would work. “Are we to leave behind a man who can be seen by an eye that is blind to the mortal world? If he must walk only with spirit guides, then so be it. Find a way it can be done, and do it quickly.”

There was silence, followed by Laoina’s soft translation. Footsteps padded away, unseen. “They beg your pardon, Holy One. We must wait while they fetch what we will need.”

Alain put his arms around her. She rested her head on his chest, closed her eyes, wanting peace even for a brief while. He said nothing; he did not need to. He would stay with her until the end. That was what the Holy One had promised her. Sorrow and Rage pushed against her, moist noses slipping between the braided cords of her skirt to wet her skin. Laoina shifted, tapping at the floor with the butt of her spear as she waited. The erratic rhythm lulled Adica. Alain’s body was so solid against hers. He hummed softly, as patient as the wind.

Let her fall forever into this moment and none other, let all that came before and all that would come after not exist, only this. She dozed, or slipped into a vision; in the darkness it was hard to tell.

She walks into a blazing hall of light. Brightly dressed people throng the hall. They are so many that she cannot count them, far more even than all the folk who live in her village. How can a single building be so large that it can hold such a crowd? Their speech, their songs, the platters on which they eat, the tide of food flowing in and out of the hall, all this overwhelms her. Surely she has fallen into the Fat One’s hall, overflowing with plenty. She never thought it would look so bewildering, a path with no landmarks she can recognize.