Child of Flame (Crown of Stars 4)

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.

Then she recognizes her mistake. The stranger is woman and fire both; one cannot be untangled from the other.

Sorrow’s warning bark woke her. Her left foot, wedged against the wall, had fallen asleep. She stamped it until it stopped tingling, turning the dream over in her mind. She could find no hidden meaning in it. Best to let it rest for now.

“Come,” said Laoina.

They made their way without lights along a tunnel that sloped steadily downward. The barest luminescence gleamed along the walls, fungus growing on knobs of rock. The growth gave off just enough light so that she could see her feet and hands and the dim figures of the others, walking before and behind her. Their guide was a man, lightly dressed, as thin as a reed. The tunnel ended abruptly at the lip of an abyss where a flimsy woven ladder vanished into the chasm.

“How do we get the dogs down?” asked Laoina.

The guide lit two torches before bringing out rope. A series of ladders linked ledge to ledge down a cliff face so vast that the meager glow from the torches only made the cavern and rock wall bulk ominously beyond the frail arc of light. It was a laborious task to lower the dogs from one ledge down to the next, especially having to light their way with torches, swaying at the ends of rope, that spat pitch and burning flakes of ash at erratic intervals. Alain did most of the work, never complaining despite the pain it must cause his healing hand. Adica took her turn as well, bracing, paying out line, catching the big bodies and letting them down onto narrow ledges, some of which were small enough that two people couldn’t stand one beside the other. Her arms ached and her back was a belt of pain by the time they reached the bottom. A spark of hot ash stung her eyelid. The only mercy was that the dogs, perhaps aware of their predicament, were as gentle as lambs. If only they had weighed as little.

But Alain would never have left the dogs behind. Nor would he ever abandon her.

As soon as they were all safely to the bottom, the guide extinguished the torches anxiously, as though their light was a forbidden luxury. Laoina whispered prayers, and Alain spoke softly to the dogs in his own language. Deep within the earth, the sweat cooled on her body and she shivered as a breeze brushed her face. As warm as dragon’s breath and just as sulfurous, that breeze made her light-headed. To think even for a moment of the mountain of earth above her was to panic. How could air alone hold up heavy rocks and the weight of spans of earth? Surely it must all come tumbling down on top of her head. Fumes danced around her head. Spots of light flashed into existence and winked out, disorienting her.

In the instant when one of those lightning flashes illuminated the night, she saw the guide kneeling before the cliff face as though he prayed. He made a strange movement with one arm. Chimes rang out high and sweet.

Light flooded the chasm.

She shielded her eyes, blinking furiously, blind. As abruptly, the light vanished. The dogs barked. A body bumped into her.

“Holy One.” The honorific sounded much the same in any language, even squeezed by fear as it was now. He slipped an armband over her hand and up past her elbow.

“He says, you must give this to what creature comes to the summons, and tell them of Horn’s wishes.” Laoina’s voice shook as she translated. Adica had never heard her sound so frightened. “Then they must do as Horn wishes. That is the bargain.”

“What creature—?”

He scurried away without answering. She heard him scrambling up the ladder.

“He abandoned us,” whispered Laoina hoarsely.

“What does he fear?” asked Alain out of the darkness.

The air eddied around them as unseen things set in motion whirled into life. The sulfurous breath of the underground wind blew hot in her face, and she coughed until her eyes watered. Light bloomed. That glow came in part from the armband she wore, twin to the armband now gleaming softly on Alain’s arm.

“Skrolin,” she whispered.

“Look!” Laoina stood clearly visible in the soft light. The beads woven in her braids gleamed eerily. She pointed toward a low tunnel so smoothly faced and perfectly ovoid that fear kicked Adica in the gut. This was no natural tunnel. Someone had shaped it.

Sorrow and Rage growled, standing stiffly, ears alert. A bubble of light expanded out of the tunnel. No human creature held that lamp, and no flame known to human folk or their Hallowed Ones burned within the globe the creature carried, dangling from a chain. Laoina dropped to her knees. The dogs lunged, but Alain caught them by their collars and dragged them back with all his strength, straining and cursing.

Adica had seen so many marvels that one more could not jolt her. She had known since she was a child that many strange and unknowable creatures walked the Earth, and that humankind was young to the land. She had glimpsed the skrolin in the tunnels when the Cursed Ones had kidnapped her, but she had never seen one as close and as clearly as she did now.

she recognizes her mistake. The stranger is woman and fire both; one cannot be untangled from the other.

Sorrow’s warning bark woke her. Her left foot, wedged against the wall, had fallen asleep. She stamped it until it stopped tingling, turning the dream over in her mind. She could find no hidden meaning in it. Best to let it rest for now.

“Come,” said Laoina.

They made their way without lights along a tunnel that sloped steadily downward. The barest luminescence gleamed along the walls, fungus growing on knobs of rock. The growth gave off just enough light so that she could see her feet and hands and the dim figures of the others, walking before and behind her. Their guide was a man, lightly dressed, as thin as a reed. The tunnel ended abruptly at the lip of an abyss where a flimsy woven ladder vanished into the chasm.

“How do we get the dogs down?” asked Laoina.

The guide lit two torches before bringing out rope. A series of ladders linked ledge to ledge down a cliff face so vast that the meager glow from the torches only made the cavern and rock wall bulk ominously beyond the frail arc of light. It was a laborious task to lower the dogs from one ledge down to the next, especially having to light their way with torches, swaying at the ends of rope, that spat pitch and burning flakes of ash at erratic intervals. Alain did most of the work, never complaining despite the pain it must cause his healing hand. Adica took her turn as well, bracing, paying out line, catching the big bodies and letting them down onto narrow ledges, some of which were small enough that two people couldn’t stand one beside the other. Her arms ached and her back was a belt of pain by the time they reached the bottom. A spark of hot ash stung her eyelid. The only mercy was that the dogs, perhaps aware of their predicament, were as gentle as lambs. If only they had weighed as little.