Fireblood (Whispers from Mirrowen 1)

Paedrin nodded vigorously. “I like your thinking. It would be pretty easy to confirm whether or not Kiranrao was lying. We could even discover that without crossing the lake into the city. If the boatmen confirm it, then we know that there was an explosion. He obviously did not want us to know about the danger.”

“That troubles me,” Hettie said softly. “While I hate being manipulated, I would feel even worse if he did this to spare us. I do not want to owe him anything.”

Annon put his arm around her. “He did not require anything from us. We seemed more like a nuisance to him anyway.”

Hettie shook her head. “I’m worried about him.”

Erasmus snorted. “Don’t be a fool, girl. He is quite capable of defending himself. Even the Arch-Rike fears him.”

At those words, Annon’s eyes opened wide. “I’m a fool.”

Paedrin looked curious. “What do you mean?”

He gritted his teeth and shook his head. “Maybe I am mistaken, but your words about the Uddhava make sense to me. How we are observed, and it triggers actions in others. When I came to Kenatos, I had to cross the gates. I told the Rike there that I was the nephew of Tyrus of Kenatos. I did not think of it until now, but the man started, surprised. He was shocked. Obviously his ring allowed him to know that I was not lying. He directed me to the Paracelsus Towers. No doubt I was followed.” He turned to Hettie. “Did you mention who you were visiting?”

Hettie shook her head, her brow crinkling with worry. “Of course not. What business is it of theirs?”

“The explosion happened after we left. It may have happened the very next day. My mentor, Reeder, warned me about trusting Tyrus. That he was involved in some matter dealing with the Scourgelands. My visit may have started the cycle of the Uddhava.”

Paedrin looked at him seriously. “No, it started before you arrived. It started when Hettie arrived in Kenatos, seeking her freedom. It may have started even earlier than that.”

“What do you mean?” Hettie asked, her voice defensive. “You think that I caused this?”

“No,” Paedrin answered, batting his hand at her. “When you were both infants.”

“Oh,” Hettie said. There was something in her voice, in her reaction. It made Paedrin pause. Was she hiding something? There was a growing pit of unease in Annon’s stomach, and it had nothing to do with the blade hidden in his cloak. There were forces at work that baffled him. But it was as Paedrin had taught them. An unseen current was pulling them all along, bouncing and bumping them into each other. He needed to know where the current was taking them before he decided whether or not he wanted to swim with it or against it.

“We need to find Tyrus,” Annon said resolutely.

Hettie touched his hand. Hers was warm. He glanced at her face and saw his concern mirrored in her eyes. Her look of defensiveness was gone now. It was probably his exhaustion and the effects of the weapon on his mind. Here they were together. A brother and sister, separated since birth. Was that even an accident?

“Then I suppose we will need a Finder,” she said.

Somewhere in the deep darkness of the Alkire, a creature roared. It was then that Annon noticed the subtle mist snaking through the boulders.

“The wilderness is full of monsters, it is said. What men fear most is their unrealized expectations. A dark alley. A thief with a knife. A thousand regrets of what will never be. This is fear.”

– Possidius Adeodat, Archivist of Kenatos

A chill descended on the little camp. Wispy tendrils of fog seeped slowly, bringing fear with the cold. Paedrin turned and stared at the darkness of the woods, gripping his shattered staff; he looked at the others. Annon felt his fingers tingle with heat, and he prepared to whisper the words that would summon the flames. Would such a being be immune to it? He hoped not.

Erasmus poked the ground with a stick, muttering to himself. “How many men did Kiranrao have? How many were slain? We saw the bodies. The chance for each of us surviving until daylight is bleak. Perhaps only two of us will. Those are bitter odds.”

“Say nothing,” Paedrin said, striding to the fringe of the firelight. “I hear something moving in the woods.”

Hettie came to her feet at once, bringing out her hunter’s bow and nocking an arrow. Her arms trembled.

“Be still!” Paedrin hissed. He stared into the woods, listening.

Another roar sounded, closer this time. The size of the creature, the noise it made terrified Annon. What were they facing? What was it that hunted them? He thought about his talisman, stuffed in a pouch at his waist. It was useless to him unless he wore it around his neck. Had the spirits tried to warn him earlier? Or were they gibbering in fear as well?