Circle of Fire

  I already regret the bite of my words, and I lean into him, resting my forehead on his shoulder.

  “I’m sorry. I’m just so tired, Dimitri. I don’t know from one night to the next if I’m dreaming or traveling. I don’t know if the Souls are trying to weaken my resolve by toying with my mind, or…” Even now, I am afraid to finish the thought.

  “Or what?” he asks softly.

  I lift my head to look into his eyes. “Or if it is simply me. If, after all this time, I’m finally going mad. Or worse, if I’m being lured to their side, little by little, without even realizing it.”

  There is a long stretch of silence before Dimitri pulls me to him. “You are not going mad, Lia, and you’re not being lured to their side. It is—”

  But he is interrupted by a shout outside the tent, and he lifts his head, turning toward the noise before rising and making his way to the tent flap.

  I follow him with my eyes. “What is it?”

  “I don’t know.” He steps from the tent, looking back at me. “But stay here.”

  I am unsure how long I stay in the tent, but it is not as long as Dimitri would like. The rising voices are impossible to ignore, and I wrap a blanket around my shoulders before stepping outside to see Dimitri and Gareth, standing amid a flurry of rubbish, our packs once again torn open and emptied on the ground.

  “What is this?” I turn in a circle, taking in the damage as Brigid emerges from her tent, rubbing her eyes.

  “I told you to remain in the tent.” Dimitri’s voice is tight.

  I fix him with a glare. “I don’t often do as I’m told, as you must surely have noticed by now.”

  He sighs. “I’m only trying to protect you, Lia.”

  “What has happened? What’s going on?” Brigid’s voice is an intrusion into my silent war with Dimitri, and I turn to look at her.

  She is still clad in her nightdress, a look of shock fixed on her face as she surveys the scene.

  I try to keep my voice from shaking as I answer. “Something—or someone—has gotten into our packs again.”

  Gareth stalks around the camp, finally throwing something into the trees in frustration. “It’s worse than that, I’m afraid. This time, they’ve gone after our food.”

  Brigid rushes forward. “Our food? Do you mean to say all of our food has been destroyed?”

  “Not destroyed, exactly,” Dimitri breaks in. “I think we can salvage some of it.”

  “But who would do such a thing? And how?” Brigid’s eyes are wide with fear, and I suddenly wonder if it is feigned.

  “That is a good question.” I narrow my eyes at her. “Who do you think would do it? There is no one here but us, and I imagine if Dimitri and Gareth search the camp for tracks, they will find none but ours, just as they did the last time.”

  Her face goes white. “You don’t mean to imply that I did this?”

  “I’m not implying anything. I’m simply stating the facts.”

  “Why would I do such a thing?” she asks.

  I feel a moment’s doubt but press stubbornly forward. “You tell us.”

  “Lia—” Dimitri’s voice is a warning, but he does not have time to finish before Brigid stalks across the camp, stopping right in front of me.

  “The answer is, I wouldn’t. Of course I wouldn’t.” Her voice is pleading. “I was asleep in my tent, just as you were.”

  “Yes, but Dimitri was with me. Who was with you?” I know it is unfair even as I say it.

  “Well, no one, of course, but…” She looks from Gareth to Dimitri. “Tell her! You know I wouldn’t do such a thing!”

  Gareth holds her gaze before turning to look at me. “My Lady, I thought I heard something in the woods. Someone stepping across the ground. I was gone only a few minutes, and when I returned, Dimitri was with you in your tent and things are as you see them now.”

  I pull the blanket tighter around my body, not wanting to give up my theory. I do not want to acknowledge the fear coursing through my veins. The growing feeling that I am being shadowed by something beyond my control.

  “What has that to do with Brigid?” I ask.

  “I simply don’t think any of us could have created this kind of havoc in so short a time without alerting Dimitri,” Gareth says. “The tent walls are not thick enough to muffle the sound of someone creeping through our camp.”

  I dare a glance at Brigid and feel a flush of shame when I see the hurt and anger in her eyes. Still, I cannot bring myself to give in. “Well, something, or someone, did.”

  Dimitri moves to pick up a pack from the ground. “Yes. And until we discover who, or what, it is, it seems we will have no peace.”

  Our ride the following day is quiet and without the easy companionship to which we’ve grown accustomed.

  Tension fills the air as we make our way out of the forest, and I breathe a sigh of relief as the plains come into sight before us. Ever since the horrifying journey to Altus in which the Hounds gave chase and I was forced to subsist without sleep for nearly three days, I have not been able to rest easy when surrounded by the eerie quiet of any wood.

  But there is a price to pay for the openness of the fields, and we spend the day eyeing the surrounding farmland, watching for any hint of trouble or pursuit. Remembering my fevered race to outrun the Guard in Chartres, I know nothing will see me safe from them, truly safe, except the closing of the Gate.

  As night falls, we seek what shelter we can find and make camp amid a small grove of trees at the edge of an open plain. I work in tense silence with Brigid to put together a simple dinner while Gareth and Dimitri see to the horses. Finally, she puts down the knife she is using, breathing a heavy sigh. I feel her eyes on my face but I do not turn to meet them.

  “I didn’t do it, Lia. I swear to you.” There is no anger in her voice, something that causes me great shame, though I cannot say why.

  I reach for a stale loaf of bread to cut into slices. It was obviously the victim of one of the nighttime raids, and I brush the dirt from it carefully as I speak. “How can you be certain? The Souls are crafty, you know.”

  “Lia.” She touches my arm, and I finally raise my eyes to hers. “It wasn’t me.”

  “I’m not saying it was or that if it were, it would have been intentional. The Souls…” Unable to hold her gaze, I busy myself with the bread once again. “Well, they turned Sonia against me once. Sonia, who was more a sister to me, in some ways, than Alice.”

  She drops her hand from my arm. “I am not Sonia. Or Luisa or Helene or Alice.”

  It is the first time I have heard true anger in her voice. It causes me to pause and soften my voice. “I know. And I’m sorry the past haunts our new friendship. Truly, I am.”

  She takes a deep breath, turning her body to face mine. “It is not my fault that I came to the prophecy when so much has already happened. I ask only to be given a fair chance to prove myself, as everyone else has been given before me.”

  Something clear and bright shines in her eyes, and all at once, I believe her.

  I reach out to embrace her. “You’re right, Brigid. You are owed that much, and an apology besides. I’m sorry my past with the prophecy and the Souls has made me cynical even where your friendship is concerned.”

  “It’s all right,” she says. “Just tell me you believe me.”

  “I believe you. I do.” I say it and mean it, leaving out the words that drift unbidden into my mind.

  But if it wasn’t you, then who was it? And what does he want?

  The Hounds are so close I can smell them. I remember the strange scent—wet fur and tangy sweat—from the journey to Altus and know they are at least as close as they were when they came upon us at the river and Dimitri arrived to see us safely to the Isle.

  But this time, there will be no Dimitri. No Edmund.

  Now I ride across the frozen tundra of the Void with nothing save the cape on my back.

  Even my pack—and with it my bow—is absent in this dream.
>
  The journey across the ice seems to take forever, like a dream in which one is running down a hallway only to find that it goes on and on. The hooves of the Souls’ steeds reach a crescendo as they race behind the Hounds, ready to surround me and consign me to the Void for eternity.

  I am almost prepared to fall, to give in to the slow torture of my fate, when a mighty wind begins to blow. It whips the hair around my face, and particles of snow and ice spin wildly through the air, making it hard to see anything beyond my horse’s neck. I am filled with terror, but there is something else, too.

  It is a euphoria that builds from within, thrilling me with its power. The unbroken expanse of the Void lies beyond my vision, but it is, at last, quiet. The snarl of the Hounds is absent, as is the thundering of the Souls’ horses. Everything has gone silent, and for the first time since Father’s death, I am at peace.

  But it lasts only a moment. Only a moment, before the voice begins to find its way through my sleep-fogged mind.

  I try to tune it out. To ignore it. I have labored long for this rare moment of serenity, and I am loath to relinquish it, even in my dream. Yet the voice, too, is stubborn. It does not allow me the luxury of ignorance, and a moment later it breaks through with words that cause the bottom to drop out of my world.

  “Lia! What have you done?”

  27

  “I don’t understand.”

  I am sitting with Dimitri by the dying light of the campfire, my mind still thick and heavy with sleep.

  Gareth and Brigid are trying to repair the tents, but I am not yet in possession of enough of the facts to feel bad about what has happened.

  Dimitri takes my hand. “You were standing outside the tent with your eyes open and the wind…” He does not continue, and when I look into his eyes they are haunted by images I cannot see.

  “The wind?” I prompt softly.

  He shakes his head, remembering. “It was… swirling around you, blowing and shredding the tents, destroying everything in its path.”

  “But I was asleep.” I hear the insistence in my voice.

  “Yes. But it seems to have been something more than sleep.”

  I am beginning to see where his words are leading, and I stand, turning away from him to face the fire. “It wasn’t. I was sleeping. Dreaming.”

  His voice is tender but firm behind me. “I don’t think you were, Lia.”

  “If it’s as you say… If I was outside the tent… How did I get there?” I demand. “You were on guard. You said that you wouldn’t leave.”

  His answer is simple. “I didn’t. You walked right past me. I was surprised at first, and after a moment I called out, thinking perhaps you needed to see to something personal. But you didn’t answer. You simply kept walking until you stood in the center of camp, and then you raised your arms and the wind began to howl.”

  For a moment, I think I see it all in a residue of memory, a nearly forgotten dream. And then the glimpse is gone.

  I think back to the previous incidents, trying to remember the sequence of events, and my mind lights on a morsel of hope. I feel a rush of relief in the certainty that I am absolved. “But the other times, you and Gareth were on guard and did not see me leave my tent. And the night our food was disturbed, you were actually in my tent, waking me from a dream, when Gareth called out.”

  Dimitri lowers his head, his shoulders sagging in an uncharacteristic show of defeat. “You were dreaming, Lia. I think that’s the part we must focus on. You told me that your nightmares have become worse, that sometimes you’re not even certain you are dreaming.”

  I swallow the lump of foreboding that rises in my throat. “Yes, but whether or not I was dreaming, we can both agree that I was not in the middle of the camp destroying our supplies, at least not prior to last night.”

  He sighs. “But if you were on the Plane, isn’t it possible the Souls were able to use you? To channel your exhaustion and bitterness into a spiritual rampage of sorts?”

  I am still not prepared to face the reality required to answer his question. “You said…” My voice catches as my body begins to tremble with unwanted knowledge. “You said the Souls could not force me to the Plane against my will.”

  I wish I could freeze the pause that follows, for I know I will not like what Dimitri is going to say next.

  “They can’t.”

  I turn to face him, lifting my chin defiantly. “Well, they must have. I don’t wish to travel the Plane.” I laugh aloud at the notion, but it sounds brittle and false. “I avoid it at all costs, as you well know.”

  He does not rise, but looks up at me from the log on which he sits. “I know that you mean to avoid it, Lia. But I told you before that the Souls are more powerful than you can imagine. That they would find a way to use you without your consent.”

  I look past him to the tents, leaning and torn, in the middle of our campsite. “I don’t have the knowledge to conjure such power.”

  “Yes,” he says, “you do. You’re a Spellcaster, like Alice, and though you’ve not fully honed the forbidden authority that is yours, you must have known it was lying in wait. All it needed was a good push from a formidable master. Given the proper motivation, you could easily have done it all—the water, the food, the tents.”

  “You’re saying it was me.” I turn away again. “All this time.”

  I do not hear him rise, but a moment later his hands are warm on my shoulders as he comes to stand behind me. “Not you. Not really. Not you any more than it was Sonia on the way to Altus.”

  The mention of Sonia, instead of soothing my growing alarm, only serves to anger me. “You compare me to Sonia? You compare this… this… unauthorized use of my power to her betrayal?”

  He makes a noise of frustration. “Why are you being so difficult? Whatever has happened, it will not be changed by your denial, Lia. You must face what is happening if you’re to have any hope of fighting it.” He throws up his hands and walks away before turning back around. “You want me to stand here and tell you that you didn’t sabotage our camp. That it was not your Spellcaster power that ransacked our packs, tried to destroy our food, our shelter. Well, I’m not going to lie to you. And you can unleash your fury and indignation all you want, but it will do you no good. You will not drive me away. I’m still here, Lia. And I always will be, just as I promised.”

  He stalks off, but he does not get far before my resolve crumbles. Tossing the blanket to the ground, I race toward him, pulling on his arm until he stops and turns to face me.

  There are so many things I want to say, but they are too large for words and I am too weak to voice them aloud after all that has happened. Instead, I speak of the one thing I must confirm, for everything else Dimitri has said now makes sense.

  “You said I would need the ‘proper motivation’ to be so used by the Souls.” I raise my palms to the sky. “What motivation could I possibly have?”

  He shrugs, his answer simple. “Exhaustion? Resignation? It’s no secret, Lia. We all see it in your eyes, and none of us blames you. Anyone would be tired of fighting after all you’ve been through. All you’ve lost and been forced to endure.”

  I look into his eyes, wanting him to believe my next words. “But I haven’t stopped fighting! I haven’t! Don’t you see me, day after day, riding toward London and the possible end of my life?” I hear the desperation in my voice and hate myself for it.

  He pulls me to him. “No one doubts that you’re fighting as hard as you can. But in your sleeping hours, during the times when you can, at last, let everything go, isn’t it possible there is some small part of you that seeks release? That welcomes an end to the fighting, however it may come?”

  His words ring of a truth I have not dared consider.

  “I don’t know.” My voice shakes, and I work to calm it before pulling back to look him in the eye. “But what more can I do to protect myself, and everyone else, from the workings of the Souls? I cannot stay awake every moment. Not for long. We have
at least four more days until we reach London, and that is if we ride very hard and very fast. Once there, we’ll have to put everything in order for the trip to Avebury. What am I to do during all that time?”

  He reaches for my hand. “You’ll entrust yourself to me.”

  I begin to protest, but he does not allow me to finish.

  “Everyone must trust someone, sometime, Lia. Even you.” I am surprised to feel tears sting my eyes as he continues. “Trust in me. I’ll stay with you while you sleep and wake you if anything seems untoward.” He sighs. “It isn’t foolproof. I cannot protect you on the Plane if I’m not there. But I can wait and watch for anything in this world and wake you if it seems I must.”

  I do not tell him it is a paltry plan. Instead, I swallow my fear of trusting him. Of trusting anyone. I swallow it and step into the protection of his arms.

  Because he’s right. It’s all we have.

  We travel through the woods and over the fields of England the next day, and the next, and the next. I lose track of the fields and trees and farms. They blur together as my physical strength, sapped by sleepless, dream-filled nights, weakens.

  My apology to Brigid is met with a warm embrace. Her graciousness is my secret shame, for I was not as quick to forgive Sonia, and I suddenly wish I could go back to the moment on Altus when Luisa, Sonia, and I stood on the cliff overlooking the sea. I wish I could go back and do it all again. If I could, I would like to think I would embrace Sonia the way Brigid did me.

  Gareth spends each night guarding the camp while Dimitri watches over me as I sleep. I feel bad for forcing the arrangement, but Gareth’s smile is as bright as ever, though he can steal only moments of sleep when we break during the day. He and Dimitri treat me just the same, though with more tenderness than before. I search their eyes for hints of the anger and resentment that I think must be there. It was my actions, after all, that cause us to sleep in tents that leak in the rain. My actions that force us to brush dirt from our bread.

  Yet there is nothing but affection and worry in their eyes. Their generosity only highlights my own weakness, and I spend much of the little time I’m coherent loathing myself and contemplating my many failings.