“Ginger, open the door,” he said. “I won’t hurt you.”
“That wasn’t how it looked,” she said.
“Why do you push me that way?” He hit the door. “Why can’t you be as sweet to me as you are to other people?”
“I guess I’m not the right woman for you.”
“Don’t say that.” He rattled the doorknob. “Let me in!”
“No! You can’t come in my rooms. Go away.”
“You don’t give me orders. And you can’t run around with your dress pulled up to your thighs, showing your legs.” He pounded on the door. “You come out here. Don’t make me break the door.”
“No one makes you,” she said. “You decide to break things. If you don’t like the way I talk, fine. Just go away.”
His pounding got louder. “Let me in! Or I’ll—I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” she shouted. “Beat me until I can’t walk?” The frustration, her loneliness, and her fear burst out of her. “That’s brave, Flame Sentinel. Make war against someone who has half your strength and size.”
“You’ll regret treating me this way.” His voice turned ugly. “I’ll make sure you can never have what you want. Never.”
“What does that mean?” When he didn’t answer, her panic sparked. “Kindle! What does it mean?”
No answer.
“Kindle?” She was breathing hard, and it was loud in the sudden silence. Had he gone away? Or was he trying to trick her into coming out?
Ginger turned her back to the door and slid down until she was sitting on the floor. She pulled her knees to her chest and crossed her arms on them, then laid her forehead on her arms. She feared she could never leave her rooms, that he would always be out there waiting to punish her for saying things he didn’t want to hear.
Tears filled her eyes. Her thoughts unrolled scenarios of what he meant by I’ll make sure you can never have what you want. He could take so much: her independence, her life at the temple, the respect of people in Sky Flames, her freedom. The days when they burned women at the stake were long in the past, or she might have even feared for her life.
Ginger wiped her palm across her cheek, smearing the tears. How had such a quiet dinner gone awry? The cider, probably; the last time he had hit her, he had been drinking, too.
She couldn’t hide forever. Nor could she live in fear of the people she had dedicated her life to serving. Right now she couldn’t help but wonder why she had done such a thing. She had to remind herself the behavior of a few didn’t negate the goodwill of the village. If she still had their goodwill. The dragon only knew what Kindle was doing.
Ginger climbed to her feet and leaned her ear against the door. The temple was quiet. Making as little noise as possible, she eased back the bolt. Then she edged the door open and peered out. She saw no one. She left her suite, alert to every sound: the scratching of birds on the terraces, the shoosh of the fountain, her own heartbeat. She held her breath, convinced Kindle would appear.
Silence.
After a moment, she breathed more easily. She crossed the temple, her bare feet silent on the stone. Outside, the sun had gone down and the horizon was a vivid wash of crimson and gold. In the rock garden, the remains of their dinner were untouched. She picked up her opal and squeezed until heat flared in the gem. It glowed in the same colors as the sunset.
“What are you trying to tell me?” she said softly.
Of course the stone had no answers. She tilted her face to the darkening sky. “Lord of the Sun and Lady of the Sunset, did you gift me with these spells? I will use them in honor of your greatness. If I presume in daring to hope you granted me this power, I entreat you to forgive my unconscionable presumption.”
Ginger returned to the temple and set every candle she could find in a circle around and outside of the RayLight Chamber. Then she stood, holding the opal, and closed her eyes, envisioning flames. When she opened her eyes, a hundred candles were burning in the dusk-filled temple.
She entered the chamber. It symbolized the protection the Dragon-Sun gave his priestess, bathing her in fiery light as if she were immersed in his flames and yet unharmed by them. To meditate in the RayLight Chamber symbolized the trust a priestess gave the dragon, her faith that his fire wouldn’t destroy her. This evening, no sunshine poured down from the skylights, but the candles shone through the glass and lit the lower portion of the room with tinted light. With the opal, Ginger added her own light until she flooded the chamber with radiance. So she sought to honor the Dragon-Sun and the Goddess. The colors filled her heart as if it were a stained-glass goblet, and she offered them her devotion in the hopes they would forgive her magic.
Ginger formed a spell of comfort greater than any she had tried before. It filled more than the chamber, more even than the temple. When it was ready, she sought Kindle with her thoughts, to allay his anger. She knew the moment she touched him. He blazed. His rage, his hurt, the pain of her rejection—it flared through her.
And in that instant, she knew what he intended.
“No!” Ginger broke off the spell. The light surged as if she had thrown oil on a fire, then sputtered and died. She threw open the door and ran out of the chamber. To the blazes with her seclusion. She had to stop Kindle.
If it wasn’t too late.
Ginger had no time to change her wrap. She ran outside, not to town, where they would stop her, but north through a desert red with the lurid sunset. In the east, cactus fields stretched to the village; in the west, stone formations rose like teeth. She ran hard, and ignored the rocks stabbing her calloused feet. She had wasted so much time! She could only hope Kindle was too drunk to carry out his plans or that he had sobered up enough to regret what he intended.
Time flowed like molasses—it was taking forever—she would never arrive—and then the tip of her destination rose above the bluffs like a misshapen spire. The Dragon’s Claw.
Her side burned with a stitch and the rocky path tore her feet. But she kept going, clutching the opal. She ran up the bluff, and the Claw rose before her until she reached the top of the hill. She was aware of two figures silhouetted against the red sky on a distant ridge, riders on horses. She kept running, though she was stumbling from exhaustion.
The Claw stood in the center of a rocky plain, jutting up like the crooked talon on a giant bird—or a dragon. It was a natural formation taller than any building in Sky Flames, taller even than the distant hills. The giant pillar ended in a huge claw of rock formations, eerie and desolate. She wouldn’t be surprised to see the dragon himself rise out of the ground.
As she neared the tower, she looked for the sentinel who should be on duty. The barren plain left no place to hide, but no one was in sight, and the station at the base of the tower appeared empty. Foreboding rose within her. Either they had taken Darz down before his ten days were up or else the sentinel had deserted his post. She couldn’t think of a good reason for either, but plenty of bad ones came to mind. Darz may have died. They may have locked him up in the cellar after all. Or Kindle had sent the sentinel home.
She slowed down as she reached the guard station, a small mesa at the base of the tower. Ten steps were carved into its side, and she took them two at a time. At the top, an overhang on one edge offered shade during the day. Only red shadows filled it now. No guard. She stopped and bent over, bracing her hands on her thighs while she gulped in huge breaths. Sweat had soaked her wrap, and it clung to her body. With the onset of night, a chill descended like the swoop of a black-wing hawk, and she shivered in her wet clothes.
Ginger descended from the mesa more slowly. She stood at the base of the Claw and stared bleakly at the trail that wound around it. If she was wrong in what she believed and she went up there, she would be in more trouble than she knew how to handle. Not only had she broken her seclusion, she was going to an isolated, unguarded place to see the man forbidden to her. But it didn’t matter. She had to warn Darz, even if it meant she would lose her position as priestess. If
he died because she had feared to act, she could never live with herself.
“Dragon-Sun, please understand,” she said. Then she started up the trail.
Night settled over the land. It was dangerous to hurry in the dark, but she didn’t dare take too long. So she made a spell. A dim sphere of red light formed, nothing like what she had done in the RayLight Chamber with her energy high, but it was enough to show the steep path. The way up circled the Claw, with the tower to her right and a precarious drop off to her left.
As she went higher, the wind tossed her hair around her shoulders and arms. She had no protection except a ripped, damp wrap, and she shivered terribly. She tried to do two spells, heat and light, but she couldn’t hold both, and the warmth faded. By the time she reached the top, she was so cold, she could barely walk. The apex was flat in the center and about thirty paces across. The outcroppings around its edges resembled twisted talons grasping at the sky. Although she saw no one, the eerily twisted rock formations offered plenty of places to hide. She wanted to call out, but the words seemed to freeze in her throat.
“What the hell?” a man said. “Who is that?”
“Darz!” She cried out her relief. “Where are you?”
He walked out from behind a crooked finger of stone. “Ginger? What are you doing here?” He came over to her with no trace of his limp from before. “Gods, you must be frozen!”
“I’m s-so glad you’re all right.” She barely got the words out. “We have to leave!”
He peered at her oddly. “How are you making that light?”
“It’s not important. We must go. Kindle is going to make an explosion.”
“I’m sure we’re safe here.”
“No! He brought down a bluff because he used too much. It d-doesn’t always work, and he can’t control it.” Her teeth chattered. “He’s furious. He thinks I won’t marry him b-because of you. And he’s drunk.”
“Ginger, slow down.” He seemed bewildered. “If we leave, we’re violating our agreement with your Elder. I’ve only this one night to go; then I can come down, and he’s said he’ll help me get supplies so I can be on my way. If we leave now, it will infuriate everyone.” His voice softened. “I wish you could stay. You truly are a welcome sight. But if anyone finds you here, gods only know what they’ll do.”
“Please. I know it sounds mad. But if you stay here, you could die.” Unless Kindle couldn’t get the powder to work or he changed his mind. But she couldn’t risk Darz’s life on that hope.
He rubbed his face, which no longer had any bandage, just a stubbly beard. His bruises were almost gone. He would always have a scar, but it no longer looked as dire.
“I know this much,” he said. “It’s freezing here. I don’t see how you can stand it, with that thin dress.” He motioned to the boulders behind them. “I’ve a blanket back there. You can wrap it around you when we go down to the tower. I’ll take you most of the way, but I don’t think I should leave.”
“You can’t stay.” She willed him to believe her. “Please.”
“Ah, Ginger.” He sounded torn. “Why are you so sure? And how the devil are you making that light?”
“I’m sure. I know Kindle.” Self-conscious, she added, “The light is a gift from the Dragon-Sun and Sunset goddess.”
“For flaming sake,” he said. “You really believe all that pantheon nonsense, don’t you?”
“Darz, don’t.” She couldn’t bear the thought that he might offend the sun and sunset on what could be his last night of life. She knew how her people would react to any disaster here. If even someone as worldly as Darz didn’t believe Kindle could cause trouble, no one would listen. They would find Darz tomorrow, burned and torn apart, and they would assume the dragon had meted out his punishment. If she accused Kindle, she would look either crazy or vindictive.
“Please,” she entreated him. “No one was on guard below.” She blanched as a thought hit her. Kindle could have come up earlier and was waiting for night so no one would see him. “We have to go!”
Darz’s forehead furrowed. “You’re sure about this?”
“Yes!”
After a long pause, while he stood frowning at her, he said, “Very well.” He didn’t sound happy. “I’ll get my things.”
She pulled on his arm. “We don’t have time.”
He took her hand. “If you’ll forgive my touch, Ginger-Sun, I think we should hold each other, to ensure neither of us falls off the path in the dark.”
“A-all right.” Her skin tingled where he touched her. A nervous tickling started in her throat, and she had to swallow to make it go away. But as they walked toward the path, relief washed over her. They would be all right.
The night exploded below them.
10
Forbidden Sands
Light flared, followed by a great thunder—except that it was below them. Ginger and Darz stared at each other while the rumbling swelled.
“No!” she cried. No. Kindle wouldn’t destroy the tower. She had expected him to come up here. She had no doubt he could kill if he thought it justified, but he would never attack the Dragon-Sun. He must have misjudged his efforts, or maybe he sobered up enough to change his mind, and the powder went off in the wrong place. Whatever had happened, rocks continued to fall beneath them in the aftermath of the explosion.
The Claw began to shake.
“Gods above!” Darz said. “It’s going to come down.”
“It can’t come down!” she said. “It wasn’t that big of an explosion.”
“It wouldn’t take much. This structure isn’t stable.” He drew her into the center where no pinnacles loomed over them. Then he crouched down, pulling her with him. “Sit with your head under your arms.”
His voice was calm, but she heard his fear. She had gone beyond fear and turned numb, her only defense against terror. When she had done as he asked, he sat with his legs on either side of her body and pulled her into his arms. Then he bent his head over hers, making himself a shield. She could just barely see under his arm.
The rumbling grew louder, and the Claw shook. A spire of rock cracked at its base and crashed across the Claw only a few paces away. It shattered when it hit, and rock shards rained over them. As the shaking grew worse, Ginger squeezed her eyes shut and scrunched herself into as small a ball as possible.
“I’m sorry,” Darz whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
The world fell beneath them—they dropped through air—
Rocks crashed on top of them.
Her last thought was that she had died before she had barely even lived.
Cold.
Pain.
Ginger opened her eyes. The world was dark.
Time passed. Her body hurt. That didn’t seem fair, if she was dead, that she felt pain.
“Darz?” she croaked.
No answer.
Her fingers twitched. She couldn’t move them; they had spasmed around the opal. Rocks jabbed her legs and a weight pressed on her body. When she tried to move, boulders shifted and pebbles clattered somewhere. She went still, afraid to start a rockfall.
A man groaned.
“Darz!”
“Gods be damned,” he muttered, along with several other choice oaths that normally would have left her ears burning. Right now she was just glad to hear him speak.
“The Claw must not have fallen all the way,” she said.
“It feels like the whole cursed mountain is on my back.”
Her grip on her opal had relaxed enough for her to set it down. She stretched out her arm, past rocks and under Darz’s leg. Her fingers scraped dirt, then passed through open space. “I don’t think we’re totally buried.”
“Must be a cavity.”
Her pulse was racing. “Does that mean if we move, the rocks could fall the rest of the way?”
“I’m afraid so.” He sounded as if he had to push out the words. “But if I don’t move whatever is on top of me, it’ll crush me anyway.”
&n
bsp; She knew she couldn’t lie this way long, either, under the weight of his body and whatever pressed on him. Claustrophobia lurked at the edges of her mind.
“Can you move?” she asked.
“Maybe—”
She held her breath as he eased off her. Each time he shifted, dislodged rocks pelted their bodies. Grinding noises came from above them, and a miniature avalanche started. She bit her lip so hard, she tasted blood.
After the rain of pebbles stopped, Darz muttered an oath. “I’m stuck. Something is jabbing my back.”
“Can you push it off?”
“I’m afraid I’ll bring down the ceiling. But—ah! It hurts. I have to—” With a grunt, he gave a jerk. The rocks above them grated against one another as if gnashing their teeth. Ginger clawed the dirt and held her breath.
Then the rumbling stopped. After it was silent for a few moments, Darz squeezed down behind her with his front against her back. The air around them smelled dusty and hurt her throat, but she could breathe again.
“No more moving,” he said raggedly. “Whatever is holding these boulders off us isn’t fixed in place.”
“Are you hurt?” she asked.
“Bumps and bruises. I don’t think anything broke.”
“It’s the same for me.”
He leaned what felt like his forehead against the back of her head. “Now what?”
“Maybe someone will dig us out.”
“Maybe.” He didn’t sound optimistic. “I wish I had my blanket. It’s so blasted cold.”
Ginger slid her hand to where she had put the opal—and it was gone. “No!”
Darz tensed behind her. “What happened?”
“I lost it!” The talisman was a rock, not their salvation, but right now it was her touchstone. She couldn’t lose it.