If I am to burn, then so shall you all.
The buildings surrounding the plaza erupted into flame. Fire leapt into the sky, red against the night. People shouted and ran from blazes that suddenly were everywhere. Through the veil of flame around her, Ginger saw them pointing toward her, their faces contorted with fear.
The hem of her wrap caught fire. She cried out as heat engulfed her calves. Everything was burning, her clothes, the platform, the buildings, the sky, the entire world. The crowd had turned into a panicked mob. Through the flames, she saw a running mass of people on foot and horseback—
Horses?
Someone on a horse was slashing with a sword! No, it was a mirage; no one in Sky Flames had a horse but a few sentinels and the elders. The flames were leaping too high for her to see anything but a red blur. Something gouged her ankles, and the ropes binding her feet to the stake scraped her legs. She sobbed from the heat as her hair caught fire.
A sharp edge scraped her wrists—and her arms fell free! She lurched forward, her ankles tearing away from the stake. Even as heat blasted her face, something jerked her back, out of the flames. She couldn’t move—she had been tied too long—but someone kept pulling her, and she stumbled into the area behind the stake. The fire hadn’t yet caught the platform here. Wild with the fear pumping through her body, she stared up into the face of the person who had freed her from the stake.
Heath!
Her brother’s hair whipped around his head in the wind. He ripped the gag off her mouth and yelled, “We have to get down.” He half carried, half supported her as they ran for the stairs. Ginger coughed raggedly, heaving in breath after glorious breath. Right now she would have run on broken legs if necessary. Fire roared behind them, but cool air blew across her face like a gift.
Two men were at the bottom of the stairs, fighting against four of the village sentinels. She recognized one of the men immediately: Harjan had come to help. And the other—was Kindle! Incredibly, the Flame Sentinel was battling his own men.
Ginger swallowed; she and Heath could go no farther with the sentinels blocking them. Heath took her halfway down the steps, then set her against the rail and jumped down into the midst of the fighting. The four sentinels had Harjan and Kindle backed up against the platform. Her giant of a brother took on two of them while Harjan and Kindle grappled with the others.
Ginger had no intention of staying here while they fought for her life. She grabbed the hem of her cursed wrap and ripped it so she could move. Agony stabbed her burned and scraped feet as she stepped down the stairs. When she moved, two of the sentinels stopped fighting Kindle and looked up.
Ginger went utterly still. They stared at her, their faces streaked with sweat and lit in orange by the fires. One of them looked at Kindle, who was breathing hard, poised to take them on again. Then incredibly, the two sentinels stepped back. The others had noticed and stopped fighting Heath. They looked at Ginger, at Kindle, back at Ginger. Then they all moved away.
Ginger couldn’t believe it. She limped down the last step, painfully aware of the sentinels. They were, miraculously, letting her go, but they could change their minds at any moment.
With all the noise of the flames roaring behind them, Heath had to shout to make Kindle and Harjan hear him. “I don’t know how much longer he can hold them off! Get his attention while I take Ginger. We have to go now.”
He? Ginger looked to where he pointed—and gasped.
A man on horseback was fighting in the center of the plaza, surrounded by armed sentinels on horseback and more on foot. None of his assailants had backed off; their faces were drawn in snarls. The man reared his horse, raising his curved sword high over his head, and the garish light of the fires glittered on its edges like molten lava. His horse pawed the air, and his war cry tore through the air as if it were the scream of dragons. Then he came down, slashing with his sword, and the sentinels scattered like chaff before a blazing wind.
Darz.
He was one man, alone, fighting three others on horseback and six on foot, yet he held them off. He struck harder and parried faster. He advanced, blocked their moves, backed away when they surged against him, then came at them again.
“He’ll catch up with us,” Heath said, urging Ginger forward. She stumbled with him toward a lane between two burning buildings. When hooves pounded behind them, she summoned up an extra spurt of speed. But still the horse gained. It pulled alongside of them and a sentinel leaned down to grab her.
“No!” She strove to run faster on her burned, aching feet.
“Ginger!” he shouted. It wasn’t a sentinel, it was Darz. Leaning down, he reached for her. She had no time to think; she grabbed his hands with hers as she had often done with Heath when they were children practicing mounts on the horse owned by their father, who had been a sentinel. Darz heaved her up in a practiced motion, and she scrambled astride the bare back while Darz held her in front of him.
“Go!” Heath shouted. “Get her safe!”
With one arm clamped around Ginger, Darz kicked the horse and leaned forward. It raced into the alley and thundered past the blazing walls on either side.
They rapidly left the flames behind. Darkness closed around them, but not the full night, for the burning plaza cast a glow that reddened the shadows. The fire bell in the plaza began to clang, calling fire-tenders to battle the inferno. Ginger was clenching her fists so hard, her nails tore her palms.
It wasn’t until they had left the plaza far behind and were riding through the outskirts of the village that her grip eased. She drew in a deep, shuddering breath. Her head swam and she swayed until Darz tightened his hold, keeping her from falling off the horse. As her head cleared, she recognized the animal as Grayrider, Kindle’s fine stallion.
They were riding too hard for normal conversation, but Darz bent his head so his lips touched her ear. “Are you all right?”
She managed a nod. She wasn’t all right; welts, gashes, lacerations and minor burns covered her body. Nothing was left of her clothes but scorched, bloodied rags. She hurt everywhere so very much, but it was far better than burning alive.
They soon reached the desert. When she looked back, the village was no more than a glow in the sky. Out here, only the moon lit their way, and Darz let Grayrider slow down.
“The Flame Sentinel told me he left supplies for us in the Flint Maze,” Darz said. “Do you know where that is?”
“West of the temple.” Her voice caught. “I can’t think of enough ways to thank you.”
“I owe you, Ginger-Sun,” he said gruffly. “I almost got you burned alive because I couldn’t keep my hands where they belonged.”
“You didn’t make this town brutal.” She had always known the harsh life of the desert could harden people, but she would never have believed they could turn on her this way. She spoke with a pain that bandages and salves could never heal. “They’re responsible for what they did, Darz. Not you.”
“How could they do it?” His voice crackled with disbelief. “It’s so illegal to burn someone alive, I can’t count the number of laws they’ve broken.”
“They’re scared.”
“They ought to be. When I report this—”
“Darz, don’t.”
“Why the hell not?”
“It hurts too much,” she whispered.
“Ginger—”
She just shook her head. “Not yet.” She was too upset to think through what had happened, not only what the elders had done, but her final act of fury. She needed time. Right now, she just wanted to fold up and nurse her wounds.
“Is that the temple?” Darz asked.
It took her a moment to recognize its terraced roof against the starred sky. “Yes, that’s it.” Moonlight glinted on the skylights at the tip of the RayLight Chamber where she had spent so many hours in meditation. Or making spells.
“Maybe they’re right,” she said dully. “Maybe I am evil.”
“What? That’s absurd. You’re
one of the kindest people I’ve ever met.” He punctuated his assertion with colorful oaths expressing his opinion of Sky Flames. He caught himself midway through one. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m too used to traveling with the army.”
“It’s all right.” She motioned up ahead. “The Maze is a five-minute ride past the temple.”
“I mean it, Ginger. You aren’t evil.”
It would have been easy to let him reassure her. But she couldn’t lie. “I do the things they claimed.”
“Like hell.”
“I make spells, Darz.”
“I don’t believe in spells,” he said. “But if I did, I would have to point out that the kings of Aronsdale choose their brides for their ability as mages. Whatever that means.”
She smiled wanly. “But you don’t believe it.” After what had happened to them in the cave, he might accept far more than he was willing to admit.
“I know this much,” Darz said. “You had nothing to do with the Dragon’s Claw falling. Your Flame Sentinel says he did exactly what you thought. Apparently he sobered up enough to change his mind, but this powder of his blew anyway. He lost control of it.”
“Then he admitted everything?”
“To me. To your Archivist. To your brother.” In a wry voice, he added, “To the guards confining him in his house. That was before he beat them up and left.”
That sounded like Kindle, but for once she was grateful. “Then he found you and Heath?”
“Me, yes. One of the miners, a man named Tanner, went yesterday to get your brother. Tanner says he was at your house when they brought you back from the Claw.”
“I remember.” She tried to collect her thoughts. “When I awoke today, only Dirk Bauxite was guarding me. Tanner was gone.”
“Yes, well, he got suspicious when the elders sent him away and left you with Bauxite.”
“But how did he find my brother? Heath was in J’Hiza. It’s half a day’s ride from here, and Tanner has no horse.”
Darz cleared his throat. “He, uh, borrowed one from a sentinel.”
From his tone, she suspected the sentinel hadn’t known about the loan. Softly she said, “I am in their debt. And yours. I thought you were gone for good.”
His voice quieted. “Your elders turned me loose yesterday with nothing. They told me never to come back.” He sounded annoyed. “Did they really think I would just walk away after what had happened? I snuck back last night. I was looking for you when the Flame Sentinel caught up with me.”
That surprised Ginger. She had thought Kindle hated Darz. “After he tried to kill you, he asked for your help?”
“He feels guilty as hell. He ought to.” Awkwardly, he added, “He also seems to believe you prefer me over him.”
“I hardly know you.”
He gave a snort. “Your hulking monster of a brother thinks otherwise. He gave me quite a speaking to. He’s furious.”
She could well imagine. “We’ve always been close.”
“So I gathered.” He shifted behind her. “You can’t return to that town.”
“I know.” She couldn’t bring herself to think farther ahead than that. “Do you see those shadows up there? The tall ones?”
“I think so.”
“That’s the Maze. It’s a lot of rock slabs sticking up out of the desert.” To Ginger, it had always looked like it could be an ancient palace of the gods blasted into ruins.
“It’s hard to see anything in this dark.”
She paused, thinking of the stake. But Darz already knew about her spells. “I could help with the light.” A disheartening thought came to her. “Unless you didn’t keep my opal.”
“I kept it. It was all I had to remember you by.”
She was glad he had cared enough to want a keepsake. “I hope you don’t mind my asking for it back.”
He let go of her, and a rustling came from behind her, the scrape of the ties on a suede riding pouch. Then he pressed the opal into her hands. “It’s yours. But I don’t think we should use a light. It would make us easy to spot.”
“Oh. Yes. Of course.” The opal warmed her palm, so very welcome, as if in some subtle way it increased her well-being. She formed a spell of succor. It couldn’t heal her, but her pain receded to a more bearable level.
She wondered if Darz might prefer the opal to remember her by rather than have the responsibility of her person. He was right: she couldn’t go home. That thought came with such pain. If she could reach J’Hiza before anyone heard about what happened here, she might arrange passage to someplace safe. Where, she didn’t know, but she couldn’t give up. She couldn’t ask Heath to leave with her, though; he needed to stay and protect their family’s mining interests, lest the elders challenge his claims after what he had done tonight.
“Could you take me to J’Hiza?” she asked. “I won’t trouble you after that. But it’s too far to walk.” She didn’t know how they had expected Darz to make it without supplies, a horse, or a guide, especially after all he had been through. Maybe they had hoped the desert would finish the job his attackers started.
He spoke awkwardly. “I don’t think you understand.”
“Understand?” she asked, distracted. They were almost to the Maze, and the tall, uneven slabs of rock were easier to see. So was the yellow glow leaking around them. “Darz, you may not have wanted a light, but someone else out here does.”
“I see.” He guided Grayrider in the other direction around the Maze, away from the light.
Ginger squinted at the yellow glow. “I see a man walking. He has a lamp.”
“You can see that from so far away?” Darz asked.
“Definitely. Two people. No…three. And two horses.” She was suddenly aware she had no weapons. Darz had his sword, but she had nothing more than her fingernails.
Darz walked the horse behind an outcropping of slabs on the edge of the Maze. The night was silent, without even the call of a black-wing. Voices drifted to them.
Relief washed over Ginger. “That’s Heath.”
“Your brother?”
“Yes. The other two are probably Harjan and Kindle.”
“Either that, or the sentinels caught your brother and tortured him until he told them where they could find you.”
“They would never—” Then she stopped. Today people she had known all her life had condemned her, whipped her and tried to kill her. She had blessed Dirk just last year when he wanted luck for the houses he built. Yet he hadn’t hesitated to lash her in the cellar. She blanched, remembering the hunger in his face as he tore off her wrap. He had wanted to hurt her.
“You’re sure you saw two horses?” Darz asked. “I thought only your village sentinels had them.”
“Heath has one,” she said. “Not Harjan. You have Kindle’s.”
“Where would they get a second?”
“I don’t know.”
“We shouldn’t just go over there. I’ll check first.”
Grayrider stood quietly as Darz dismounted. Alone on the horse, Ginger shivered as the wind chilled her bare arms and shoulders. She hadn’t realized until Darz moved away that his clothes had a familiar smell of the red dye used in Sky Flames. Would she ever smell it again? For all she knew, they didn’t even have the same dye in J’Hiza.
In just a few days, she had lost everything. She was still a priestess; they hadn’t stripped away her title. Why bother, when she would soon be dead? But she no longer had a temple to serve. She didn’t want to blame Darz; she had meant it when she told him it wasn’t his fault. Yet she couldn’t help but think that if he had never come to Sky Flames, none of this would have happened. She might have married Kindle or spent her life alone, but she wouldn’t be exiled from everything she loved.
“Ginger?” Darz said.
She realized he had reached up to her. With a sigh, she eased off the horse. Darz caught her, holding her in his arms, and she groaned when his sleeve scraped her back.
He turned her around. “Gods! What d
id they do to you?”
“Twenty lashes.”
“Bastards.” His touch was unexpectedly gentle. “You need a healer. If these wounds aren’t tended, they’ll fester.”
“I’ll be all right.”
“No, damn it, you won’t.” He turned her to face him. “My men say the same thing when they’re injured. ‘I’m all right.’ Stop being so stoic. If we don’t tend your wounds, you could die. I don’t let my men get away with that knuckleheaded bravery, and I won’t let you, either.”
The hint of a smile softened her face. “Are you comparing me to a soldier in Her Majesty’s army?” He had called her brave. Knuckleheaded, too, but she could live with that.
“Ach!” he muttered, sounding loud even when his voice was barely audible. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”
“You didn’t.” She touched his cheek. “Go see who came to meet us.” Her eyes filled with moisture. “If it’s safe, I would like to say goodbye to my brother and the others.”
He folded his fingers around hers. “I’ll leave you with a dagger. If anyone comes, scream.” Bluntly he added, “And stab the hell out of them.”
Even a few days ago, she wouldn’t have believed she could stab anyone. Tonight she had seen a violence within herself she had never known existed. She could have burned every person and building in that plaza. Part of her believed the elders were right, she was a dark witch. Another part of her raged. They were responsible for their cruelty and their lust, not her. And they were the ones who had decreed: If the Dragon-Sun so wishes to punish the witch for her misdeeds, she will burn. Well, she hadn’t burned, so the Dragon-Sun hadn’t wanted her punished, and the hell with all of them.
She recognized the dagger Darz withdrew from his belt; it belonged to the Elder, who had lent it to Darz for his stay on the tower. She closed her hand around the roughly cast hilt and didn’t miss the irony, that Tajman’s weapon would help her escape the execution Tajman had ordered.