Fireborn

  In all the objections he anticipated, he never thought she’d refuse outright to lend her assistance. “You are angry, and I understand that—”

  “No, you’re not listening to me.” She clicked her tongue in annoyance and took his face in her hands, her fingertips caressing the lines that fanned from his eyes. “I can’t help, Hallow. Not in the sense you mean. You came to me because I was a banesman once, but I am not one anymore.”

  He touched the silver cuff on her wrist. “You aren’t?”

  “No.” Sadness filled her face as she let her hands drop and turned away to look down upon the temple grounds. “Not since that day. All my power, my lightweaving, and the chaos magic—it’s all gone. Just as if it had never been.”

  “You were tired after the battle—” he started to say, but she interrupted with another shake of her head.

  “I told myself that very same thing, but even after I recovered, days later, I still couldn’t feel the power of Kiriah. I couldn’t conjure up so much as a single small light rabbit. And where the chaos magic once struggled inside of me, there was only emptiness.”

  “But you returned to the temple. You must still have a connection with Kiriah, or it would not be possible for you to have returned.”

  “Hallow ...” She put her hand on his arm, the warmth of her fingers giving him comfort despite the hopelessness that threatened to overwhelm him. “I am not on temple grounds. Sandor saw at once that I had been cast from Kiriah’s grace, and she sent me to the cave.”

  “But surely a priest cannot be exiled like that ...” He stopped, unable to finish the sentence.

  “I wasn’t exiled. I was shunned by Kiriah Sunbringer herself. The people of the town, the other priests, even the animals of the area, all feared me. Sandor offered me a sanctuary, not a prison, although I will admit there are times when I would have rather been killed alongside Deo than have suffered this solitary existence.” She gazed steadily at him, her eyes so sad, it made him want to weep. “I’m sorry, Hallow. There is nothing within me to fight against the Harborym except my abilities with a bow and sword, and I’m sure you have no shortage of common soldiers. You will have to seek out one of the five banesmen who remain.”

  “They are gone,” he said, giving in to the urge and pulling her to his chest. He kissed her forehead, her eyes, her cheeks. He wanted more, but he stopped before control slipped through his fingers. “Two disappeared. Lord Israel said he ‘took care of’ them. The other three I sent into hiding so they would avoid any such issues, but I’ve lost contact with them. I don’t even know if they are still alive. I’m sorry that you’ve suffered so for these last months, but, my heart, there is no time for comfort. We must leave now and ride hard if we are to be in Abet before moonrise tomorrow.”

  “I just told you I can’t help—” she protested when he took her hand again and started down the path to the cave entrance. “Why are you doing this? Didn’t you listen to me?”

  He smiled at the note of ire in her voice. He had begun to think that the sorrow of her life had driven away the sharp-witted Allegria. “I heard. And I wish I had an explanation why Kiriah seems to have turned her back on you, her most promising priestess, or why the chaos magic has gone dormant in you, but there is no time to work that out now. We can go into it once we are on the ship.”

  “What ship? I thought you wished to ride for Abet?” she asked, following reluctantly.

  “I do. The ship comes after.”

  “What exactly is going on?” She stopped. “Lord Israel sent you, didn’t he?”

  “Far from it.” He took her hand again and pulled her down with him to the entrance of the cave. “Do you have things you wish to take with you? Clothing? Books? Weapons?”

  “No. My swords were lost in the battle, and my clothes don’t matter. What do you mean, far from it?”

  He sighed a martyr’s sigh, and led her down to the plains where his horse waited. “When I became the head of the arcanists, the council forbade me to contact you. I paid them no mind, of course, but they made it clear that if I pursued contact with you, there would be repercussions.”

  She looked at him curiously, a slow smile curling the corners of her mouth. He wanted so badly to kiss those lips, but knew if he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop. “You have defied them?”

  “I have on a number of occasions, and for lesser causes than you.”

  “But you’re the Master of Kelos, the most powerful wielder of magic in all of Alba.”

  “Hardly the latter. In fact, I’d give you that title.”

  “My power has abandoned me,” she said starkly.

  “So you say. Come. We must hurry.” He mounted and held out his hand for her.

  “Why should I come when I have nothing to offer?” she demanded.

  He thought of all the things he could tell her, of the ways he could persuade her, and picked the one that he thought would best resonate. “What do you have here to stay for?”

  She flushed angrily for a moment; then her shoulders slumped in acknowledgment. “You’re right. There’s nothing here but more isolation, more long years of being ignored and exiled and talking to the wind. Very well, I’ll come with you, but do not expect miracles, Hallow. You must agree to take me as I am now, and not be disappointed later.”

  “You could never disappoint me, Allegria.”

  “Say it, Hallow.” She had a mulish look that reminded him of her mount of old.

  “Very well.” He laid a hand on the top of her head. “I pledge to you that I accept you as you are, and will never expect anything from you but what you freely give. Will that do?”

  “Just remember it when you call on me to perform magic that has abandoned me,” she said with a curt nod.

  “So be it. Come along, now. My horse won’t be too happy about it, but we can ride together.”

  “There’s no need. We can take one of the temple’s mules.”

  He was pleased to see the glint of humor in her eyes. “Not the infamous Buttercup, surely?”

  “Of course. And I have no doubt she is as obstinate as ever.” She hesitated a few seconds, then accepted his help to sit sideways across his thighs. “I might not be able to help you by means of magic, but I will admit to being pleased that you’d go against the council’s dictates.”

  “We shall see, Allegria. We shall see.”

  “Yes, we will, and I don’t think you’ll like what you see when I fail, but I’ve said enough about that for now. You didn’t tell me why we are going to Abet if you are not under order to bring me to Lord Israel.”

  “The council must meet and determine a plan of action. I wanted you to be a part of the decision process, since you are a good part of the solution.”

  She said in exasperation, “I’ve told you and told you, I have no—”

  “No power, I know. Let us deal with that once we have met with the council.”

  She shook her head sadly, and said no more for a long while.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  We arrived in the city of Abet only to be greeted with dull skies, heavy rain, and a sore behind. At least mine was sore—Hallow hadn’t been confined to a cave and cliff tops for the last year, so I assumed he was used to spending time in the saddle.

  “If I said this was an omen, would you mock me?” I asked when I limped away from the horse we’d rented along the road to Abet. We’d ridden so hard we had to change horses several times, pausing only for brief breaks.

  “I would never mock you, although I almost agree.” Hallow glanced up at the leaden skies. “It seems our arrival does not have Kiriah’s blessings.”

  “I told you that nothing connected with me would, but you insist on pretending it’s just a temporary state.” I realized just how grumpy I sounded, and touched Hallow’s hand. “I’m sorry, I’m tired and saddlesore. You know I will fight alongside whatever company will have me, assuming weapons can be found for me.”

  He flashed a brief smile, making my stomach turn some
rsaults. I marveled that even exile for eleven months hadn’t changed my feelings toward him. He looked just the same—his eyes as blue as an early summer morning, his white-blond hair longer now, long enough to be caught back in a leather thong. The eye crinkles were still there, and still had the power to make my legs feel weak.

  Blast the man! Why hadn’t I gotten over him in my time of exile?

  “As to that,” he said, reaching for one of his saddlebags. “I have some good news—”

  “Lord Hallow, at last you are come.” A short little man with an unctuous smile hurried out to greet us in the stable yard. With a start, I realized it was Rixius. “Lord Israel has been most distraught thinking that your ship did not safely make it to shore, but when we heard from the captain that it had, but you left immediately—” He sputtered to a stop, having caught sight of me.

  I curled my lip, and gave as polite a greeting as I could manage. “Kiriah’s blessings, Rixius.”

  “What is that doing here?” he demanded, pointing at me.

  “Other than wishing I had a small beheading axe handy, you mean?” I asked, smiling sweetly.

  He gasped in outrage and was about to unload on Hallow when the latter said, “Cease, Rixius. Allegria is here because she is a banesman, a strong warrior, and a clever priestess.”

  “She has been banished! Not even her temple would tolerate her presence because of the stink of Harborym about her. Lord Israel said so himself.”

  I sighed. I knew that I’d meet this very same reaction from everyone in the city.

  Hallow wagged a few fingers at Rixius. The man was suddenly lifted a good four feet off the ground, hanging there as if by an invisible hand. Beneath him, a ring of blue fire formed. “What was that you said about my good friend and sometimes lover?”

  Rixius squawked and wildly waved his arms in the air, his legs kicking ineffectually. “I take it back, I take it back! Please don’t burn me, Master Hallow! I will say nothing more about the priest.”

  “Good.” Hallow let the man drop to the ground, waiting a few seconds before quelling the arcane fire. “Are the rest of the council here?”

  “No, my lord,” Rixius said, hopping on one foot to examine the sole of his other foot. The soles were singed, but not burned, through. Hallow might have a touch of the mischievous about him, but I had yet to see him be deliberately cruel.

  Not that I’d realized that when it most mattered. I sighed to myself again and pushed back the guilty knowledge that at some point, I’d have to come to account for my actions in thinking the worst of him, but that time was not now.

  Hallow frowned. “I thought Darius would have been right behind me. Surely he sent word of when he would be expected?”

  “No, my lord.” Rixius studiously avoided looking at me as Hallow started for the interior of the great keep that held Lord Israel and his court. I followed, pulling up the hood of my cloak, not due to a sense of inferiority, but because after my experiences with the people of my own town and temple, I preferred the shadows to the light. “Lord Darius is reportedly gravely ill, too ill to undertake the journey to Aryia. He promises to send an army as soon as one can be called, though.”

  “What’s this?” Hallow stopped and for a moment, his eyes turned stormy. “What happened to the Starborn army?”

  “There is no army,” Rixius answered.

  “Nonsense. I helped organize them myself some six months ago.”

  Rixius gave an unctuous smile that made me want to smack him on the back of his head. Then again, everything he did made me want to do that. I reminded myself that hitting others on the head, no matter if they were annoying and obsequious and reminding one of a steaming pile of cow manure, was not the way to prove my worth to Kiriah Sunbringer.

  “What happened to them?” Hallow asked.

  “I know not, my lord arcanist. Perhaps Lord Israel can answer that. He is awaiting news of your arrival in the war room at the top of the stairs. I must tend to procuring the supplies needed for Lord Israel’s company, so I must bid you farewell.” Rixius bowed low and gestured for Hallow to climb the stairs. He did so with me at his heels. Rixius kept his head bowed when I passed, but I could feel his animosity poking at me with sharp jabs.

  “I pray to Kiriah that you see through that oily little blob of flyspecked cow dung’s flattery,” I murmured as we mounted the stairs.

  “Tell me what you really think,” he said with a little curl of his lips.

  I pinched his arm.

  The guards outside the war room bowed to Hallow, respect showing in their faces. I eyed first them, then Hallow, wondering at the change in the man who had dominated my thoughts for the course of my exile.

  What was it that was different about him? He looked the same, although there were a few more lines radiating from his eyes. He held one shoulder a little higher than the other, but if it had been broken along with other grave injuries, that would account for it. He was dressed in the same manner as he had been, although the black staff Exodius had given him appeared to have lost its bird. What was it, then, that brought such respect to the eyes of the guards?

  He strode into the room, confident, easy in his own skin, and with a pronounced sense of purpose. That was what was different—he’d gone from being an apprentice, albeit a learned one, to a master of arcane knowledge.

  He was a leader, and although he might balk at the title, he wore the mantle well.

  “Lord Israel,” he said, stopping in the middle of the round war room and giving a curt bow. Shadows lay heavily along the curved outer walls of the room, but I could see a number of laden bookshelves and tables, the biggest of which dominated the center, spread with large maps and scattered papers. The smell of incense hung in the air, making my nose wrinkle. “Rixius tells me that Darius’s army is no more.”

  Lord Israel had been standing at the window, gazing out of it with his hands behind his back. He didn’t turn at first, saying, “I gather the Starborn characteristic trait of thinking primarily of their own comfort has meant the army was dismantled. My own army is scattered across Aryia, although they were recalled at the first sign of the invasion. The full force of them should be assembled in a week or less.”

  “And Jalas?” Hallow’s jaw had tightened at Israel’s words, but he kept control of his temper. I moved into the room behind him, putting a hand on his arm, more for my own comfort than his. “Where is the Tribe of Jalas?”

  “They come, but it is slow going with the rift opening in the pass between the High Lands and the rest of Aryia,” a woman’s voice spoke. “I do not have my beloved father’s way with the men, but they have heeded my call, and will be here as soon as they can.”

  Idril emerged from the shadows of the room, gliding forward in that annoying way she had (and which I could never duplicate, no matter how much I tried to get my hearty peasant feet to try). She made me very aware that I had been living in a cave, my clothing was travel-stained and ragged, and since I’d lost my powers, I had nothing to offer anyone other than a reasonably strong sword arm, and a quick eye for the bow.

  I disliked feeling inferior to anyone, but it really irked that she could stand so coolly lovely and collected, while I had an itch on my back I couldn’t reach, hadn’t brushed my hair in two days, and had stepped in something foul-smelling in the courtyard.

  “Allegria,” Hallow whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

  “What?” I whispered back.

  “Stop growling. I’m sorry, my lady?” This last was directed toward Idril, who had asked him something.

  She lifted a hand and brushed a dried leaf from his arm. “I asked where your army was. Do they remain on Genora?”

  “No. Those arcanists I could recall from their various tasks are en route, as well. It was my intention for them to attack the southern rift while the other companies attack the northern two, but gathering them is taking time, and without the Starborn army, we shall simply have to make do with the forces we have. Once the southern portal
is destroyed, we can turn our attention to the other two.”

  “An interesting plan, but not one that I believe holds much merit. Not with the loss of numbers due to the delay of your arcanists, and the missing Starborn army. Instead, I believe a better plan is to combine forces now with the Tribe of Jalas—” Lord Israel turned as he spoke, stopping when he saw me standing next to Hallow.

  I lifted my chin in response to the narrowed eyes he turned on me. “Kiriah’s blessings,” I said politely.

  After a minute of intense scowling, he ignored me and turned his attention back to Hallow. “What have you done, arcanist?”

  “I have brought you the one person who can give us a fighting chance to destroy the Harborym and their rifts,” Hallow said simply.

  “No,” Lord Israel snapped, his gaze on me at once scathing and dismissive. “She has been rejected by her own temple. Kiriah has spurned her. She is an empty shell, nothing more.”

  His words pierced me deep, making me want to fight back, but a brief look at Hallow had me keeping my tongue behind my teeth. Besides, I told myself with brutal honesty, there wasn’t anything Israel said that wasn’t fact.

  “She is also the only one on Alba who can do what must be done,” Hallow said, his voice strong and true.

  It struck me at that moment that as irate as he was, Lord Israel sounded tired. His voice lacked emotion, as bland as the rainwater that streamed down the windows beyond him. He looked defeated. To be sure, his face was impassive as ever, but he bore the air of a man who knew he was beaten even before the fight started. In a people who did not age for centuries, he looked as if he was at the end of his time.

  “What must be done that only the priestess can achieve?” Idril asked, a little frown adding a wrinkle between her perfect pale blond brows.

  In comparison, my own eyebrows, now as black as a raven’s wing, resembled fuzzy caterpillars perched above my eyes.

  “Yes, what can I do?” I asked Hallow. “I’m not quite as useless as Lord Israel makes me out, but you know that I can no longer wield magic.”