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War of the Burning Sky - The Novel
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<blockquote data-quote="RangerWickett" data-source="post: 5491207" data-attributes="member: 63"><p><strong><span style="font-size: 12px">Chapter Fourteen</span></strong></p><p></p><p>“None shall leave. Release me, or burn.”</p><p></p><p>The voice came from all directions, but within it Rivereye heard a woman’s voice – Crystin’s – and he saw her speaking the words as the fire forest spoke to them.</p><p></p><p>Diogenes glared at Rivereye and yelled, “What the hell have you done?”</p><p></p><p>“We’ve got to run,” Rantle shouted.</p><p></p><p>“No,” Kathor said. “She’s possessed.”</p><p></p><p>The knight started to move toward Crystin, drawing a sword. Rivereye moved in his way and waved his hands to stop him. The knight hesitated, and Rivereye ran over to Crystin and shook her. She looked down at him, her eyes unfocused.</p><p></p><p>“Indomitability, right?” Rivereye said. “Crystin, talk to him for me. Tell him we’re going to free him. We just need time. If he harms us we won’t be able to help.”</p><p></p><p>“Crystin,” Haddin shouted, “say nothing!”</p><p></p><p>Crystin’s eyes focused on Rivereye, and she spoke quietly in time with the deep roar of the inferno.</p><p></p><p>“I can harm you as I like. You have my boon, and will not die until I let you. Do not try to trick me. Come to the lake, silence the song, and I shall release you. Attempt to leave, and I shall destroy you.”</p><p></p><p>The heat faded, the fires dimmed back to a cool red, and the screams of Torrent and the Ragesians ended abruptly. Suddenly the forest was quiet save for the regular crackle of embers, and Haddin’s gasping cough. Crystin sagged, and Kathor came forward to catch her.</p><p></p><p>Everyone looked around for a moment, uncertain what to do.</p><p></p><p>Diogenes cleared his throat. “Who wants to bet he was bluffing?”</p><p></p><p>Rantle laughed once.</p><p></p><p>“You idiot children!” Haddin said.</p><p></p><p>He advanced toward Rivereye and his fingers began to twitch the way a spellcaster’s does as he uses magic, but Rantle ran over and shoved the man to the ground.</p><p></p><p>“I don’t know what the hell you were planning,” Rantle said, “but no one is doing anything until we figure out what’s going on.”</p><p></p><p>Nearby, off the left side of the road, flames clinging to the trees faded out and nearly died. A dim trail appeared, extending out as far as Rivereye could see, twenty feet wide and free of fire. Meanwhile, gusts of flame burst out from other trees further up and down the main highway, intense enough to burn them even with their protection.</p><p></p><p>“I, um, think,” Rivereye whimpered, “that we don’t really have a choice.”</p><p></p><p>“Great,” Diogenes said. “I now feel so validated about fleeing the city. This is much better.”</p><p></p><p>“Stop it,” Rantle said. “We are <em>going</em> to get out of here, no matter what mad things come at us. I am going that way, and hopefully I’ll figure out what to do before I get to this lake it wants us to find.”</p><p></p><p>He looked at Rivereye. “Get up on the horse. We’re taking Crystin with us.”</p><p></p><p>“Leave her alone,” Haddin said.</p><p></p><p>“Oh go dive off a cliff,” Rantle said. “I didn’t see you trying to protect her when Kathor was going to try to cut out the evil spirits. Anyone else coming?”</p><p></p><p>Haddin fumed, but Diogenes nodded.</p><p></p><p>“I’m a little afraid you’re right,” Diogenes said. “But before we go rushing to talk to the monster, maybe we can try something else?”</p><p></p><p>“What?” Rantle snapped.</p><p></p><p>“I’m just going to check to see if the ‘monster’ can follow up on his threats.”</p><p></p><p>Diogenes knelt beside the tied up prisoner and whispered something. The man sat up slowly, blinking his eyes as if he were just waking up.</p><p></p><p>“Spirits protect me,” the man gasped. “I’m still here.”</p><p></p><p>“Yes you are,” Diogenes said. “Now pay attention to me.”</p><p></p><p>The man looked intently at Diogenes, his mind clearly addled. </p><p></p><p>“If you just answer a few questions for me, I’ll let you go back the way you came, and we’ll go where we’re headed. Alright?”</p><p></p><p>The soldier nodded happily.</p><p></p><p>“Alright, first question: why were you after us?”</p><p></p><p>The soldier looked over at Haddin for a moment, then back to Diogenes.</p><p></p><p>“Boreus, our commander, was dispatched to bring in the old one. There was another inquisitor sent after the jispin, I think. I’m sorry, sir. I only overheard that the jispin had stolen something they wanted back.”</p><p></p><p>“Oh yeah,” Diogenes said. Over his shoulder to Rivereye he added, “Remind me to take a look at those when we’re not in mortal peril.</p><p></p><p>“Anything else?” he asked the prisoner.</p><p></p><p>The man shook his head. “Not much, sir. I didn’t know there’d be this many of you, though I think you’re a mage since you put a spell on me, and we’re supposed to take mage’s prisoner. Oh spirits, please, don’t send me back. The inquisitors will execute me if they discover I’ve been tainted by your sorcery!”</p><p></p><p>“Calm down,” Diogenes said. “I’m a very skilled mage, and they’ll never realize I did anything to you. Next question: do you know about any monsters or strange creatures in this forest?”</p><p></p><p>The man shook his head, his expression still fearful. “I’m sorry sir. I haven’t heard anything.”</p><p></p><p>Diogenes looked back at the rest of them.</p><p></p><p>“Any other questions?”</p><p></p><p>Rivereye shook his head. Rantle sneered and looked away. Diogenes fumbled for a few seconds, but managed to untie the prisoner. Then he picked up some ash and sprinkled it over the man’s head.</p><p></p><p>“There you are,” Diogenes said. “I’ve cast a spell on you to protect you from even the hottest flames. Now quickly, before the spell wears off, run. Run back to your glorious conquering army, and don’t tell anyone you saw us, or they’ll kill you.”</p><p></p><p>The man stood up warily, and backed his way through the group to the road. Once he was clear, he turned and ran up the road toward Gate Pass. He had only managed to get about twenty feet away when he reached the bursting sprays of flame crossing the road. He cried out, but kept running for a few more strides before he began to scream, his clothing, then hair, then even skin catching on fire. Less than fifty feet away, he collapsed to the ground, smoldering.</p><p></p><p>Rivereye cringed, but Rantle said quietly, “Don’t look away. These murderers had it coming.”</p><p></p><p>Diogenes stood, took out a cigarette, and lit it with a wand.</p><p></p><p>“Alright,” he said. “I don’t think he’s bluffing. Let’s get moving before the bastard gets impatient with us.”</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">* * *</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Rivereye rode in the middle of the group. Crystin sat mutely behind him. The rest of the group had not yet noticed her odd behavior now that her father was conscious, but Rivereye wasn’t sure the old man wouldn’t kill him if he spoke up, so he said nothing.</p><p></p><p>Kathor led the group on foot, Torrent’s eerily alive body lain across his warhorse’s saddle. Haddin hobbled along next, saying nothing and coughing often. Rivereye and Crystin rode behind him, while Diogenes and Rantle brought up the rear, quietly discussing what to do. Rivereye just listened.</p><p></p><p>Rantle said, “We’ve got a few dozen refugee Innies in Gate Pass – Innenotdarasne people who fled when this place caught fire. I heard rumors the Ragesians were responsible, but I never heard anything about a fire monster.”</p><p></p><p>“It’s been forty years,” Diogenes said. “This ‘Indomitability’ entity could have come since then, though my suspicion is that it is what has been <em>keeping</em> the forest burning.”</p><p></p><p>“So if we let it go like it wants,” Rantle said, “what happens to the forest?”</p><p></p><p>“Take a guess.”</p><p></p><p>Rantle frowned. “So what does that mean for Torrent?”</p><p></p><p>“She’s as good as dead right now anyway. I don’t suppose you brought along the other woman’s pack – Sorra, wasn’t it?”</p><p></p><p>Rantle stiffly said, “No.”</p><p></p><p>“Then we may as well write off our guide from Seaquen. I don’t think she’s going to get better on her own. Let’s focus on those of us who might still have a chance to live and complain about this later.”</p><p></p><p>“Alright.” Rantle sighed. “Well, first thing, the ‘monster’ apparently got into Rivereye’s head.”</p><p></p><p>“That’s the jispin?” Diogenes said.</p><p></p><p>Rivereye looked back and glared at them. </p><p></p><p>“Rivereye Badgerface,” he said. “I killed an inquisitor. I think I deserve to be called by my real name.”</p><p></p><p>“Sure,” Diogenes chuckled. “Diogenes Filosi, while we’re at it.”</p><p></p><p>Rantle said, “So we know what to put on your tombstone?”</p><p></p><p>“Pardon me for being polite for once. Did you have a point, Rantle. . . ?”</p><p></p><p>“Just Rantle,” he said. “My parents died before I was old enough to remember. Anyway, my point was that this creature got into his head, and the inquisitor was controlling me, which I didn’t particularly like. So you need to tell us how to make that not happen again.”</p><p></p><p>Diogenes smiled. “Heh. This lake had better be far away, because this could take a while.”</p><p></p><p>For the next half hour Diogenes explained techniques for recognizing and combating magic of mental influence, and Rivereye wondered if Crystin was listening, or if she could even hear it.</p><p></p><p>They established a warning word – “roadway” – so that if one of them thought another was being compelled, he could say the word, and hopefully give the ensorcelled one enough of a jolt to shake free. Once, when they were resting after making it over a rough rocky hill, Diogenes practiced by charming both of them, and eventually each of them figured out how to wriggle free of his control. Kathor declined to participate, and when Diogenes surreptitiously cast at him, the knight proved his familiarity with resisting such magic when he walked over and put Diogenes in a head-lock for using sorcery against him without his permission.</p><p></p><p>The fire and smoke made the sky an impenetrable haze of orange-brown ash, and hours might have passed for as much as they could tell. They ate what little food they had, drank swigs of elixir when their first dose from the morning began to wear off, and occasionally checked on Torrent, though they could do nothing for her. Mostly only Rantle and Diogenes talked, though Rivereye was beginning to feel more comfortable around them, and he occasionally joined in. He and Rantle shared funny stories from their lives, while Diogenes mocked them in harmless humor, each of them trying to keep their spirits up as they traveled down the seemingly endless corridor Indomitability had created for them through the flames.</p><p></p><p>From time to time they spotted burning animals sprinting through the woods, panicked and squealing, as they must have been for the forty years since the forest had caught flame. </p><p></p><p>Soon thereafter, Kathor spotted stone buildings just off the side of the path, a common Innenotdarasne stonewood style house, where rocks were carved so they seemed to grow out of the ground like a living thing. Stone beams like tree trunks supported an upper level wider than the ground floor. Though the stone was burnt and cracked from heat, it looked sturdy enough to work as shelter, and the brush leading to it from the road was light enough that they would be able to reach the place without being burnt. </p><p></p><p>Kathor and Rantle went off to make sure it was safe, and were gone for a long time. When they returned, Rantle’s face was pale from whatever he had seen.</p><p></p><p>“There’s a village,” Rantle said. “It looks like the wooden buildings all burned away, but there are a few stone ones which should be safe enough.”</p><p></p><p>“Everything alright?” Diogenes asked.</p><p></p><p>Rantle struggled to speak for a moment, and it was Kathor who answered.</p><p></p><p>“It is now.”</p><p></p><p>When they reached the stone building, Rivereye made himself ignore the bare human footprints in the ashes, and the drag marks that led out to a nearby dry riverbed.</p><p></p><p>There was not much that could be done to make themselves more comfortable, and though Rivereye suspected some valuables might have survived the flames and be hidden in the village, he had no interest in going to look. They set up watches, and soon Diogenes, Haddin, Crystin, and Kathor were sleeping, while Torrent lay, still unconscious but her lips moving in the occasional inaudible murmur.</p><p></p><p>Rivereye and Rantle stayed up for the first watch, and they did not talk for a long time. Rantle hummed tunes, just loud enough for Rivereye to hear them and relax slightly. Most were the classic sort of sad but hopeful tunes Gate Pass was known for, though Rivereye had not heard many before. Songs of the imperial court were cheerier, but he did not really want to ever hear them again.</p><p></p><p>Eventually, Rantle began to yawn, and soon he said, “I need to wake Kathor. You should get some sleep too.”</p><p></p><p>Rivereye nodded, then said, “Rantle, what happened to Sorra this morning?”</p><p></p><p>Rantle looked at Rivereye, making him feel guilty for asking. A moment passed.</p><p></p><p>“She came back for me,” Rantle said. “One of the archers shot her. When she died, she was looking back at Gate Pass. Do you want to know anything else?”</p><p></p><p>“No,” Rivereye said. “Her last name was Menash, you know. She told me after the bounty hunters got us. I guess I felt like I owed it to her to know how she died.”</p><p></p><p>“I owe her a lot,” Rantle said. “And I’m going to make sure I repay that debt. We’re going to make it to Seaquen, Rivereye, all of us.”</p><p></p><p>Rantle went, and got Kathor, and then went to sleep, but Rivereye stayed up for a bit longer, looking out into the forest and trying to guess which way was home. When he went to sleep, he dreamed of Crystin trapped beneath the ice of a frozen lake, trying to call out to him.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">* * *</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Rantle awoke. He did not feel refreshed from rest, or any stronger after the weariness of yesterday’s travel, but he no longer felt sleepy, and that was all he figured he would get in this forest.</p><p></p><p>Each of them drank another dose of the elixir, and then they returned to the trail Indomitability had left, and after a few hours of travel the path faded away as the forest thinned. The ground sloped downward sharply, the dull glow of an ashen lake peeked through the trees from the distance, and faintly the sounds of a choir singing floated above the weight of the inferno’s roar, drawing them to their destination.</p><p></p><p>At Diogenes’s urging, Rantle crept ahead with Kathor, heading for a hill that would shield them from view, while letting them spy on whatever awaited them.</p><p></p><p>The song floated eerily above the roar of the forest fire, and though he could not understand the words, he grasped its meaning clearly. Its strangely familiar rhythm brimmed with loss and longing and a memory of beauty which its singers would not abandon, no matter how thickly death surrounded them.</p><p></p><p>Though he was sure it was just the shimmer of the fire’s heat, the trees appeared to dance with the song's rhythm. When the music swelled, the flames dimmed, but always an oppressive weariness would creep into the singer's voices, and again ash and cinders would howl on the wind.</p><p></p><p>He kept low as he crawled to a hill which overlooked the lake, and he struggled to discern the different singers by their voices and their roles in the song. A core group of at least four, three men and a woman, held the song steady, though other singers occasionally joined from scattered directions around the shore. Two of the men would sing a repeating chorus, while the third man’s deeper voice rose above them in counterpoint, wavering between pride and fear, before finally dropping to a sorrowful drone. </p><p></p><p>But then, through the despair would rise the woman’s voice, haunting and inspiring, calling out and uplifting the other singers.</p><p></p><p>The song went through two verses as Rantle snuck forward, and would continue through several more as he and Kathor observed, but as far as he could tell it never repeated fully. Every time he heard the woman’s piercing voice, he could not help but feel weak at the beauty of it.</p><p></p><p>They reached a safe hiding spot, and Kathor whispered to him.</p><p></p><p>“If they spot us, you run back to warn the others. I’ll try to keep their attention so they don’t follow you.”</p><p></p><p>“Let’s not assume they’re hostile,” Rantle whispered back.</p><p></p><p>“Let’s not be naïve,” Kathor said. “Come on, and keep your head down.”</p><p></p><p>They crawled on all fours through elbow-deep ash to the lip of the hill. Beyond and below, the shore was cracked from heat, with hundreds of feet of dry, empty ground that had once been lakebed stretching out to the still, ash-coated waters of the lake. Far in the distance to the right, a river fed into the lake. Beside it, the people of the lake had erected a barricade of felled trees, still burning, ten feet high and hundreds of feet long. Another barricade blocked the coast to the left, and in the crescent-shaped area between them a scattered gathering of people walked and sang, oblivious to Rantle and Kathor’s presence.</p><p></p><p>The people were clearly alive and had not been caught in the flames of the forest, but they looked like no men Rantle had ever seen. Each stood around five feet tall, dressed only in tatters of rags to protect their hands, feet, knees, and groin, the rest of their emaciated bodies exposed to the heat of the fires. Wings hung from their backs, but these were withered, like those of a dragonfly held too close to an open flame. The color of their skin and hair was just slightly darker than the pale ash that coated the rest of the forest, though here on the shore the ground was bare, and Rantle could see these fairy-like beings brushing the dry lakebed with old brooms, keeping it free of ash.</p><p></p><p>In the center of the shore they had erected a platform that rose ten feet off the ground, creating a stage from which the four main singers carried on with their vigil choir.</p><p></p><p>Caves dotted the steep hills that surrounded the lake, and a pile of debris that looked like it might have been dredged from the lake decorated each cave’s entrance. Most of the people of this small village huddled in the caves, and only a dozen roamed outside, singing and tending to a small, desperate garden of plants that had escaped the forest fire. There couldn’t have been more than forty people in total.</p><p></p><p>Those still working and singing on the platform kept their eyes cast to the ground. Those in the caves sat with eyes closed, as if they were preparing for death. </p><p></p><p>Rantle saw only one person looking out at the world, a woman who watched the rest of her village with an excited expression as she gathered supplies in a cave and tucked them into a shoulder bag.</p><p></p><p>Rantle cocked his head toward Kathor and whispered, “We’re supposed to ‘silence the song?’ I don’t really know what that’s supposed to do, but it looks like the people down there, all they have is that song.”</p><p></p><p>“There are no children,” Kathor replied. “And that garden would never support so many. There’s magic here. We should go back and talk to Diogenes.”</p><p></p><p>“We should talk to them. They need our help more than this monster that’s trying to make us his puppets.”</p><p></p><p>Kathor continued to watch the village for nearly a minute without saying anything. </p><p></p><p>Then he said, “I know how you almost ran off to help the jispin when the inquisitor attacked him. It would have ruined our plans and probably gotten you killed. This time, we don’t rush into things.”</p><p></p><p>The woman with the shoulder bag left her cave, and Rantle thought he saw a hint of a smile on her mouth as she joined the song. She was looking up, and she was only a few words into the song when she stopped and stared straight up at Rantle.</p><p></p><p>Kathor ducked to hide, but Rantle met her eyes. He shook off Kathor’s grip when the man tried to pull him down, and instead he stood up and let the woman see him plainly. Neither of them moved for a moment, until finally Rantle found his voice and began to sing.</p><p></p><p>He did his best to match the tune of their song without using any words, and his voice was much stronger than any of the villagers. There was some gasping, and for a second everyone but the four singers atop the stage faltered. Rantle held out his arms to show he wasn’t holding any weapons, and slowly he began to walk down the rough slope to the village. Behind him, he heard Kathor crawl for a moment, then start running back in the direction of the others.</p><p></p><p>By the time Rantle reached where the burning brush turned to severed tree stumps and finally the cracked lakebed, it seemed like the entire village had come out of their caves to see him. The woman who had first spotted him was speaking to the others in her language, waving gently for them to keep their distance. The singers on the stage continued their song, but the rest of the three dozen nearly skeletal fairies all murmured fearfully.</p><p></p><p>When Rantle finished a chorus of the song, he lowered his arms and stopped singing.</p><p></p><p>“Um,” he started, “I don’t suppose anyone here speaks Seren?”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="RangerWickett, post: 5491207, member: 63"] [B][SIZE=3]Chapter Fourteen[/SIZE][/B] “None shall leave. Release me, or burn.” The voice came from all directions, but within it Rivereye heard a woman’s voice – Crystin’s – and he saw her speaking the words as the fire forest spoke to them. Diogenes glared at Rivereye and yelled, “What the hell have you done?” “We’ve got to run,” Rantle shouted. “No,” Kathor said. “She’s possessed.” The knight started to move toward Crystin, drawing a sword. Rivereye moved in his way and waved his hands to stop him. The knight hesitated, and Rivereye ran over to Crystin and shook her. She looked down at him, her eyes unfocused. “Indomitability, right?” Rivereye said. “Crystin, talk to him for me. Tell him we’re going to free him. We just need time. If he harms us we won’t be able to help.” “Crystin,” Haddin shouted, “say nothing!” Crystin’s eyes focused on Rivereye, and she spoke quietly in time with the deep roar of the inferno. “I can harm you as I like. You have my boon, and will not die until I let you. Do not try to trick me. Come to the lake, silence the song, and I shall release you. Attempt to leave, and I shall destroy you.” The heat faded, the fires dimmed back to a cool red, and the screams of Torrent and the Ragesians ended abruptly. Suddenly the forest was quiet save for the regular crackle of embers, and Haddin’s gasping cough. Crystin sagged, and Kathor came forward to catch her. Everyone looked around for a moment, uncertain what to do. Diogenes cleared his throat. “Who wants to bet he was bluffing?” Rantle laughed once. “You idiot children!” Haddin said. He advanced toward Rivereye and his fingers began to twitch the way a spellcaster’s does as he uses magic, but Rantle ran over and shoved the man to the ground. “I don’t know what the hell you were planning,” Rantle said, “but no one is doing anything until we figure out what’s going on.” Nearby, off the left side of the road, flames clinging to the trees faded out and nearly died. A dim trail appeared, extending out as far as Rivereye could see, twenty feet wide and free of fire. Meanwhile, gusts of flame burst out from other trees further up and down the main highway, intense enough to burn them even with their protection. “I, um, think,” Rivereye whimpered, “that we don’t really have a choice.” “Great,” Diogenes said. “I now feel so validated about fleeing the city. This is much better.” “Stop it,” Rantle said. “We are [i]going[/i] to get out of here, no matter what mad things come at us. I am going that way, and hopefully I’ll figure out what to do before I get to this lake it wants us to find.” He looked at Rivereye. “Get up on the horse. We’re taking Crystin with us.” “Leave her alone,” Haddin said. “Oh go dive off a cliff,” Rantle said. “I didn’t see you trying to protect her when Kathor was going to try to cut out the evil spirits. Anyone else coming?” Haddin fumed, but Diogenes nodded. “I’m a little afraid you’re right,” Diogenes said. “But before we go rushing to talk to the monster, maybe we can try something else?” “What?” Rantle snapped. “I’m just going to check to see if the ‘monster’ can follow up on his threats.” Diogenes knelt beside the tied up prisoner and whispered something. The man sat up slowly, blinking his eyes as if he were just waking up. “Spirits protect me,” the man gasped. “I’m still here.” “Yes you are,” Diogenes said. “Now pay attention to me.” The man looked intently at Diogenes, his mind clearly addled. “If you just answer a few questions for me, I’ll let you go back the way you came, and we’ll go where we’re headed. Alright?” The soldier nodded happily. “Alright, first question: why were you after us?” The soldier looked over at Haddin for a moment, then back to Diogenes. “Boreus, our commander, was dispatched to bring in the old one. There was another inquisitor sent after the jispin, I think. I’m sorry, sir. I only overheard that the jispin had stolen something they wanted back.” “Oh yeah,” Diogenes said. Over his shoulder to Rivereye he added, “Remind me to take a look at those when we’re not in mortal peril. “Anything else?” he asked the prisoner. The man shook his head. “Not much, sir. I didn’t know there’d be this many of you, though I think you’re a mage since you put a spell on me, and we’re supposed to take mage’s prisoner. Oh spirits, please, don’t send me back. The inquisitors will execute me if they discover I’ve been tainted by your sorcery!” “Calm down,” Diogenes said. “I’m a very skilled mage, and they’ll never realize I did anything to you. Next question: do you know about any monsters or strange creatures in this forest?” The man shook his head, his expression still fearful. “I’m sorry sir. I haven’t heard anything.” Diogenes looked back at the rest of them. “Any other questions?” Rivereye shook his head. Rantle sneered and looked away. Diogenes fumbled for a few seconds, but managed to untie the prisoner. Then he picked up some ash and sprinkled it over the man’s head. “There you are,” Diogenes said. “I’ve cast a spell on you to protect you from even the hottest flames. Now quickly, before the spell wears off, run. Run back to your glorious conquering army, and don’t tell anyone you saw us, or they’ll kill you.” The man stood up warily, and backed his way through the group to the road. Once he was clear, he turned and ran up the road toward Gate Pass. He had only managed to get about twenty feet away when he reached the bursting sprays of flame crossing the road. He cried out, but kept running for a few more strides before he began to scream, his clothing, then hair, then even skin catching on fire. Less than fifty feet away, he collapsed to the ground, smoldering. Rivereye cringed, but Rantle said quietly, “Don’t look away. These murderers had it coming.” Diogenes stood, took out a cigarette, and lit it with a wand. “Alright,” he said. “I don’t think he’s bluffing. Let’s get moving before the bastard gets impatient with us.” [center]* * *[/center] Rivereye rode in the middle of the group. Crystin sat mutely behind him. The rest of the group had not yet noticed her odd behavior now that her father was conscious, but Rivereye wasn’t sure the old man wouldn’t kill him if he spoke up, so he said nothing. Kathor led the group on foot, Torrent’s eerily alive body lain across his warhorse’s saddle. Haddin hobbled along next, saying nothing and coughing often. Rivereye and Crystin rode behind him, while Diogenes and Rantle brought up the rear, quietly discussing what to do. Rivereye just listened. Rantle said, “We’ve got a few dozen refugee Innies in Gate Pass – Innenotdarasne people who fled when this place caught fire. I heard rumors the Ragesians were responsible, but I never heard anything about a fire monster.” “It’s been forty years,” Diogenes said. “This ‘Indomitability’ entity could have come since then, though my suspicion is that it is what has been [i]keeping[/i] the forest burning.” “So if we let it go like it wants,” Rantle said, “what happens to the forest?” “Take a guess.” Rantle frowned. “So what does that mean for Torrent?” “She’s as good as dead right now anyway. I don’t suppose you brought along the other woman’s pack – Sorra, wasn’t it?” Rantle stiffly said, “No.” “Then we may as well write off our guide from Seaquen. I don’t think she’s going to get better on her own. Let’s focus on those of us who might still have a chance to live and complain about this later.” “Alright.” Rantle sighed. “Well, first thing, the ‘monster’ apparently got into Rivereye’s head.” “That’s the jispin?” Diogenes said. Rivereye looked back and glared at them. “Rivereye Badgerface,” he said. “I killed an inquisitor. I think I deserve to be called by my real name.” “Sure,” Diogenes chuckled. “Diogenes Filosi, while we’re at it.” Rantle said, “So we know what to put on your tombstone?” “Pardon me for being polite for once. Did you have a point, Rantle. . . ?” “Just Rantle,” he said. “My parents died before I was old enough to remember. Anyway, my point was that this creature got into his head, and the inquisitor was controlling me, which I didn’t particularly like. So you need to tell us how to make that not happen again.” Diogenes smiled. “Heh. This lake had better be far away, because this could take a while.” For the next half hour Diogenes explained techniques for recognizing and combating magic of mental influence, and Rivereye wondered if Crystin was listening, or if she could even hear it. They established a warning word – “roadway” – so that if one of them thought another was being compelled, he could say the word, and hopefully give the ensorcelled one enough of a jolt to shake free. Once, when they were resting after making it over a rough rocky hill, Diogenes practiced by charming both of them, and eventually each of them figured out how to wriggle free of his control. Kathor declined to participate, and when Diogenes surreptitiously cast at him, the knight proved his familiarity with resisting such magic when he walked over and put Diogenes in a head-lock for using sorcery against him without his permission. The fire and smoke made the sky an impenetrable haze of orange-brown ash, and hours might have passed for as much as they could tell. They ate what little food they had, drank swigs of elixir when their first dose from the morning began to wear off, and occasionally checked on Torrent, though they could do nothing for her. Mostly only Rantle and Diogenes talked, though Rivereye was beginning to feel more comfortable around them, and he occasionally joined in. He and Rantle shared funny stories from their lives, while Diogenes mocked them in harmless humor, each of them trying to keep their spirits up as they traveled down the seemingly endless corridor Indomitability had created for them through the flames. From time to time they spotted burning animals sprinting through the woods, panicked and squealing, as they must have been for the forty years since the forest had caught flame. Soon thereafter, Kathor spotted stone buildings just off the side of the path, a common Innenotdarasne stonewood style house, where rocks were carved so they seemed to grow out of the ground like a living thing. Stone beams like tree trunks supported an upper level wider than the ground floor. Though the stone was burnt and cracked from heat, it looked sturdy enough to work as shelter, and the brush leading to it from the road was light enough that they would be able to reach the place without being burnt. Kathor and Rantle went off to make sure it was safe, and were gone for a long time. When they returned, Rantle’s face was pale from whatever he had seen. “There’s a village,” Rantle said. “It looks like the wooden buildings all burned away, but there are a few stone ones which should be safe enough.” “Everything alright?” Diogenes asked. Rantle struggled to speak for a moment, and it was Kathor who answered. “It is now.” When they reached the stone building, Rivereye made himself ignore the bare human footprints in the ashes, and the drag marks that led out to a nearby dry riverbed. There was not much that could be done to make themselves more comfortable, and though Rivereye suspected some valuables might have survived the flames and be hidden in the village, he had no interest in going to look. They set up watches, and soon Diogenes, Haddin, Crystin, and Kathor were sleeping, while Torrent lay, still unconscious but her lips moving in the occasional inaudible murmur. Rivereye and Rantle stayed up for the first watch, and they did not talk for a long time. Rantle hummed tunes, just loud enough for Rivereye to hear them and relax slightly. Most were the classic sort of sad but hopeful tunes Gate Pass was known for, though Rivereye had not heard many before. Songs of the imperial court were cheerier, but he did not really want to ever hear them again. Eventually, Rantle began to yawn, and soon he said, “I need to wake Kathor. You should get some sleep too.” Rivereye nodded, then said, “Rantle, what happened to Sorra this morning?” Rantle looked at Rivereye, making him feel guilty for asking. A moment passed. “She came back for me,” Rantle said. “One of the archers shot her. When she died, she was looking back at Gate Pass. Do you want to know anything else?” “No,” Rivereye said. “Her last name was Menash, you know. She told me after the bounty hunters got us. I guess I felt like I owed it to her to know how she died.” “I owe her a lot,” Rantle said. “And I’m going to make sure I repay that debt. We’re going to make it to Seaquen, Rivereye, all of us.” Rantle went, and got Kathor, and then went to sleep, but Rivereye stayed up for a bit longer, looking out into the forest and trying to guess which way was home. When he went to sleep, he dreamed of Crystin trapped beneath the ice of a frozen lake, trying to call out to him. [center]* * *[/center] Rantle awoke. He did not feel refreshed from rest, or any stronger after the weariness of yesterday’s travel, but he no longer felt sleepy, and that was all he figured he would get in this forest. Each of them drank another dose of the elixir, and then they returned to the trail Indomitability had left, and after a few hours of travel the path faded away as the forest thinned. The ground sloped downward sharply, the dull glow of an ashen lake peeked through the trees from the distance, and faintly the sounds of a choir singing floated above the weight of the inferno’s roar, drawing them to their destination. At Diogenes’s urging, Rantle crept ahead with Kathor, heading for a hill that would shield them from view, while letting them spy on whatever awaited them. The song floated eerily above the roar of the forest fire, and though he could not understand the words, he grasped its meaning clearly. Its strangely familiar rhythm brimmed with loss and longing and a memory of beauty which its singers would not abandon, no matter how thickly death surrounded them. Though he was sure it was just the shimmer of the fire’s heat, the trees appeared to dance with the song's rhythm. When the music swelled, the flames dimmed, but always an oppressive weariness would creep into the singer's voices, and again ash and cinders would howl on the wind. He kept low as he crawled to a hill which overlooked the lake, and he struggled to discern the different singers by their voices and their roles in the song. A core group of at least four, three men and a woman, held the song steady, though other singers occasionally joined from scattered directions around the shore. Two of the men would sing a repeating chorus, while the third man’s deeper voice rose above them in counterpoint, wavering between pride and fear, before finally dropping to a sorrowful drone. But then, through the despair would rise the woman’s voice, haunting and inspiring, calling out and uplifting the other singers. The song went through two verses as Rantle snuck forward, and would continue through several more as he and Kathor observed, but as far as he could tell it never repeated fully. Every time he heard the woman’s piercing voice, he could not help but feel weak at the beauty of it. They reached a safe hiding spot, and Kathor whispered to him. “If they spot us, you run back to warn the others. I’ll try to keep their attention so they don’t follow you.” “Let’s not assume they’re hostile,” Rantle whispered back. “Let’s not be naïve,” Kathor said. “Come on, and keep your head down.” They crawled on all fours through elbow-deep ash to the lip of the hill. Beyond and below, the shore was cracked from heat, with hundreds of feet of dry, empty ground that had once been lakebed stretching out to the still, ash-coated waters of the lake. Far in the distance to the right, a river fed into the lake. Beside it, the people of the lake had erected a barricade of felled trees, still burning, ten feet high and hundreds of feet long. Another barricade blocked the coast to the left, and in the crescent-shaped area between them a scattered gathering of people walked and sang, oblivious to Rantle and Kathor’s presence. The people were clearly alive and had not been caught in the flames of the forest, but they looked like no men Rantle had ever seen. Each stood around five feet tall, dressed only in tatters of rags to protect their hands, feet, knees, and groin, the rest of their emaciated bodies exposed to the heat of the fires. Wings hung from their backs, but these were withered, like those of a dragonfly held too close to an open flame. The color of their skin and hair was just slightly darker than the pale ash that coated the rest of the forest, though here on the shore the ground was bare, and Rantle could see these fairy-like beings brushing the dry lakebed with old brooms, keeping it free of ash. In the center of the shore they had erected a platform that rose ten feet off the ground, creating a stage from which the four main singers carried on with their vigil choir. Caves dotted the steep hills that surrounded the lake, and a pile of debris that looked like it might have been dredged from the lake decorated each cave’s entrance. Most of the people of this small village huddled in the caves, and only a dozen roamed outside, singing and tending to a small, desperate garden of plants that had escaped the forest fire. There couldn’t have been more than forty people in total. Those still working and singing on the platform kept their eyes cast to the ground. Those in the caves sat with eyes closed, as if they were preparing for death. Rantle saw only one person looking out at the world, a woman who watched the rest of her village with an excited expression as she gathered supplies in a cave and tucked them into a shoulder bag. Rantle cocked his head toward Kathor and whispered, “We’re supposed to ‘silence the song?’ I don’t really know what that’s supposed to do, but it looks like the people down there, all they have is that song.” “There are no children,” Kathor replied. “And that garden would never support so many. There’s magic here. We should go back and talk to Diogenes.” “We should talk to them. They need our help more than this monster that’s trying to make us his puppets.” Kathor continued to watch the village for nearly a minute without saying anything. Then he said, “I know how you almost ran off to help the jispin when the inquisitor attacked him. It would have ruined our plans and probably gotten you killed. This time, we don’t rush into things.” The woman with the shoulder bag left her cave, and Rantle thought he saw a hint of a smile on her mouth as she joined the song. She was looking up, and she was only a few words into the song when she stopped and stared straight up at Rantle. Kathor ducked to hide, but Rantle met her eyes. He shook off Kathor’s grip when the man tried to pull him down, and instead he stood up and let the woman see him plainly. Neither of them moved for a moment, until finally Rantle found his voice and began to sing. He did his best to match the tune of their song without using any words, and his voice was much stronger than any of the villagers. There was some gasping, and for a second everyone but the four singers atop the stage faltered. Rantle held out his arms to show he wasn’t holding any weapons, and slowly he began to walk down the rough slope to the village. Behind him, he heard Kathor crawl for a moment, then start running back in the direction of the others. By the time Rantle reached where the burning brush turned to severed tree stumps and finally the cracked lakebed, it seemed like the entire village had come out of their caves to see him. The woman who had first spotted him was speaking to the others in her language, waving gently for them to keep their distance. The singers on the stage continued their song, but the rest of the three dozen nearly skeletal fairies all murmured fearfully. When Rantle finished a chorus of the song, he lowered his arms and stopped singing. “Um,” he started, “I don’t suppose anyone here speaks Seren?” [/QUOTE]
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