The Purifying Fire: A Planeswalker Novel Page 4

  “That would be creepy,” said Brannon.

  “For example,” Samir said calmly, “ever since you arrived and we sat down here together, I haven’t glanced at those bushes to our left until just a moment ago.” Now he turned his head and stared hard at the lush shrubbery. “So I don’t know how long that ghost warden has been listening to our conversation.”

  Brannon gasped. Chandra jumped as if she had been bitten, leaping to her feet in the same motion as she whirled to face the bushes Samir was looking at.

  She saw a white creature there, as as motionless as a rock. It didn’t breathe. Its pale eyes didn’t blink. It didn’t even react to Chandra’s sudden movement, nor to Brannon pointing at it and crying out. And its long white hair remained still, despite the breeze that made the leaves rustle gently on the bush obscuring it from Chandra’s view.

  She circled around the clearing, moving to get a better view of the creature. From her new position, Chandra saw that, exactly as Brannon had described, it had no hands or feet, although four appendages were attached to its torso in a disturbing suggestion of arms and legs that trailed off into whirls of glittering white dust where toes and fingers should have existed.

  “How does it work?” Chandra asked Samir.

  The ghost warden turned its head toward her when she spoke. Somehow, the movement was even more disturbing than the creature’s stillness had been. Its motion was fluid and refined, like the passage of time.

  “Work?” Samir, too, had risen to his feet. Now he pushed Brannon behind his body, shielding the boy from the creature.

  “Can its master see through its eyes and hear through its ears?” Chandra asked, still staring at the ghost warden. “Does its creator see and hear us right now? Or does this thing have to return to its master to convey what it has witnessed?”

  “I’m not sure,” Samir said. “But, as I said, they are said to trigger an alert to patrols.”

  “I don’t think they can do that,” Chandra said decisively. “We should kill it to test the theory.”

  Now the creature displayed an almost eerily human reaction. It shrank away from her in recognition of the threat she posed.

  “Chandra …” Samir said uneasily. “That might be unwise at this juncture.”

  But the very thought of a fight elevated Chandra’s heartbeat. As her pulse quickened, so did the fire inside her. She could feel it bloom in the base of her skull as her hair became a mane of flame, and moved down her spine and out to her hands, lighting like torches.

  “Be careful,” Samir warned. “It has been unseasonably dry this year.”

  The ghost warden pointed a wispy limb toward Chandra, and a bolt of white light shot forth from the floating, shiny particles in its fingerless tendrils.

  “Ouch!” Chandra staggered backward as it hit her in the stomach. The blow was enough to quench the fire that burned around her.

  She doubled over, trying to catch her breath, and heard Brannon shouting her name. A moment later, she felt a hand on her back and heard Samir asking if she was all right.

  “I’m fine,” she croaked. “I feel like I’ve been … stung by the biggest wasp that ever lived, but I’m fine. Never mind me! Get that thing!”

  “It’s gone!” Brannon cried.

  “Gone?” Chandra raised her head and looked toward the bushes. There was nothing there now but greenery. “Damn!”

  “I see it!” Samir, whose eyes were far more accustomed than theirs to the shadowy forest, had spotted the creature as it fled through the trees. He pointed. “Over there!”

  “Let’s go!” Clutching her throbbing stomach, Chandra ran in the direction that Samir had indicated.

  “Can we kill it?” he shouted, running after her.

  “Let’s find out!” she shouted back. Ghost or no ghost, Chandra thought she should be able to turn anything into a pile of ashes if she got it hot enough.

  “This way!” Samir shouted behind her, veering off to the right and disappearing into the greenery.

  Chandra turned to follow him. There was a broad thicket of bushes in her way, but it didn’t look very thick. Rather than waste time going around it, she forced her way through it. This proved to be a mistake. The clinging shrubs and their thorns clutched at her clothes and scratched her skin. Within moments, she found she was stuck, unable to move forward. The harder she tried to free herself, the more entangled she became.

  “I see it!” Samir cried, his voice significantly farther away now. “Come on!”

  “I’m … coming!” Chandra winced as she struggled to free herself.

  She was panting, she was in pain, she was falling behind, and, worst of all, she was trapped by a damn bush. Exasperated, her temper flared as a burning heat rushed through her body, erupting in an aura of flame that set the thicket alight and turned the offending bush into a charred remnant.

  She had only taken a few steps when she heard shrill screeching and chattering overhead. Something heavy fell down onto her back from the overhanging branches of a tree, wrapped its limbs around her neck, and bit her shoulder.

  “Agh!” Chandra dived to the ground and rolled over on top of her attacker. She struck the small, struggling combatant with her elbow and, as soon as she felt its grip loosen, leaped to her feet and turned to face it.

  An oufe? Chandra stopped cold. She didn’t like the small woodland creatures, but she had no quarrel with them either.

  Graceful green limbs, tiny features, and rather immodest rough clothing blurred in a tangle of movement as her attacker jumped to its feet and launched itself at her again, baring its sharp little teeth in a growl of rage.

  Chandra instinctively threw a bolt of fire at the oufe. It leaped back, shrieking in fear and pain, which made her feel guilty. The little creature was barely half her size, and the bush she had just destroyed might have been its place of worship or something. Oufes were a little strange that way.

  Seeing that the frantic little creature wasn’t seriously injured by her fire strike, though, Chandra said, “I’m sorry about your bush! But I don’t have time for this!”

  She turned and ran in the direction of Samir’s distant shouts urging her to hurry. She heard more shrill chattering behind her and risked looking over her shoulder. Chandra saw that her attacker was being joined by two more, but tripped over a tree root and decided to keep her eyes on where she was going.

  “Samir!” she shouted.

  “Over here!” he shouted back.

  “Chandra!” Brannon cried. “I can see it now! Hurry!”

  Chandra heard more screeching behind her, but she didn’t look back again, not even when the noises got more ear-splitting. She ran through a tight-knit grove of trees, jumping over fallen branches and toppled tree trunks, following the sounds of her friends’ voices as they screamed for her to catch up.

  When she catch up to Brannon and Samir, they were at the edge of a glade.

  “There! Crossing the stream!” Samir cried. “It’s just ahead of us now!”

  He was breathing hard, and turned to look at Chandra as she drew up alongside him. Then he looked past her, and his sweat-beaded face underwent the most astonishing transition.

  “Why,” he said, “is there a load of oufes chasing you?”

  “What?” Chandra looked over her shoulder. “Oh, no.”

  “Gosh,” Brannon said. “They look really mad.”

  There appeared to be about twenty of them bearing down on her, screeching with murderous fury as they brandished sticks, spears, and daggers. Their eyes glowed with feral rage, their sharp teeth were bared, and their skin was flushed dark green with anger.

  “What is it with oufes?” she muttered.

  “This could be a problem,” Samir said.

  “What are they going to do?” Chandra said dismissively. “Nibble on my ankles?”

  Samir said, “Well, given the opportunity …”

  “I’m stopping that ghost warden!” Chandra spotted it floating above a narrow stream as it fled acr
oss the glade.

  Samir said, “But what about—”

  “You’re a chief! You deal with it!”

  Chandra closed the distance between herself and the ghost warden, spreading her arms wide as she felt power flow freely through her, answering her summons with satisfying heat. She shaped her will into a burning projectile and threw it at the ghost warden.

  The creature flinched to escape a direct hit, a sign, in Chandra’s estimation, that it could indeed be destroyed. It wouldn’t expend energy fleeing or defending itself if it weren’t vulnerable to her attacks. Chandra leaped over the narrow stream that her floating quarry had crossed only moments ago.

  She heard a horse whinny somewhere beyond the glade as she threw another fireball that missed the ghost warden. Her next two also went wide into the underbrush that lay at the edge of the glade, where the tangle of dead twigs and leaves burst into flames.

  “Hold still, damn you,” Chandra muttered, trying again even as she heard thundering hooves approaching her on one side while oufes shrieked noisily on the other.

  The ghost warden truly seemed to fear the fire, its entire form sliding horizontally away from the flaming projectiles with only a scant moment to spare. Then it abruptly returned two beams of white light in quick succession. Chandra dodged the first one and met the other with a deflective ball of flame.

  “Oh no you don’t!” She threw another fireball, and another, and another after that. The area surrounding the glade was a wall of flame by now, each successive explosion of fire adding to the blazing fury. The oufes were in hysterics, and Samir was shouting words she couldn’t quite hear.

  Moving at a run, Chandra circled the glade to block the ghost warden’s only remaining escape route. It hovered uncertainly, facing Chandra, surrounded on all other sides by fire.

  The approaching horses were now so close that Chandra could hear the jingle of their bridles directly behind her as she threw three more fireballs at the creature in quick succession. Its rapid, evasive movements managed to dodge the assaults, but the result was a bonfire that could not be avoided and the ghost warden was soon consumed in flames.

  Over the roar of the fire and the shrieking of oufes, Chandra became fully aware of the rattling bridles and snorting horses behind her, as well as the sharp exclamations of male voices. She was already turning toward the sounds when she realized what Brannon was frantically screaming at her.

  “Chandra! Soldiers! Behind you! Soldiers on horseback!”

  There were four of them. Their horses were dancing nervously, frightened by the fire. The soldiers, all wearing boiled-leather armor over pale blue tunics, looked stunned as they gazed at her. Three of them had their swords drawn. One appeared to have entirely forgotten he was armed, and just stared at Chandra with his mouth hanging open.

  She grinned as she raised her arms high, a mane of fire swirling around her head and shoulders. Flames licked across her skin, surrounding her body in a flaming aura. The torches at the end of her arms grew immense as she shouted, “Leave this forest! Never come back! Tell Walbert what you have seen! The Order is finished here!”

  Since they seemed to need a little encouragement, she threw a fireball over their heads. One of the horses pranced sideways, its eyes rolling with fear. Another reared up, nearly unseating its rider.

  When Chandra threw a second fireball, letting this one come a little closer to hitting one of the men, they all four turned and fled. The sight of their horses galloping away made her grin with exultation.

  She watched until the green woodland swallowed them up, hiding them from her view as they fled, she supposed, in the direction of the plains. She felt someone tugging at her sleeve.

  “Chandra,” Brannon said, his eyes wide as he looked up at her. He was still a boy, and she was tall for a woman. “Samir says we should leave before the oufes strip your flesh from your bones and feed it to wolves.”

  “What?” Chandra frowned as she glanced over her shoulder in Samir’s direction. “Oh.”

  The mage was holding back a mass of the woodland creatures with an undulating green net of tangled, writhing vines that he had conjured between them and the glade, Some of them were flinging themselves at the barrier, squealing as they got tangled up in it, while others were trying to climb it, in an attempt to go over the top and proceed from there.

  All around them the glade burned. She had started a forest fire, one that was raging completely out of control.

  “Oops.”

  Oufes, she knew, could be very touchy about this sort of thing. Indeed, Samir was taking quite a risk with his own people by interceding to protect her. However, she had destroyed a ghost warden and chased away four of Walbert’s armed soldiers. Hopefully, when the oufes calmed down, they’d realize that she had acted for the best.

  At the moment, though …

  Chandra started toward Samir, intending to help him.

  He glanced in her direction, and an expression of horror contorted his face when he saw her approaching him. “Go!” he ordered. “Go now!”

  Brannon grabbed her by the shirt. “Chandra …”

  Samir was right, she realized. These oufes were pointing at her and screaming. Her presence was only increasing their frenzy. She hated leaving Samir to deal with this alone, but that was the best choice available at the moment.

  “All right, yes,” Chandra said, grasping Brannon’s hand. “Let’s go. This way.”

  They ran across the glade together, their footsteps carrying them into a wall of fire. Knowing that no forest-dweller would follow them this way, they fled through the welcoming embrace of the flames.

  The first attack came the following night. Chandra was lying awake in her narrow bed, torn between anger over Luti’s latest lecture on self-control and a certain reluctant awareness that the mother mage had a valid point.

  Fortunately, Chandra’s fire—as she had been quick to remind Luti earlier tonight—had only burned down a small portion of the Great Western Wood. Samir had sent one of his many relatives to the monastery earlier to inform them that Chandra’s forest fire had been contained and quelled after nightfall. The rains had been sporadic this year, but the elves’ magic had kept the fire confined to the the glade where Chandra had destroyed the ghost warden.

  “Nonetheless,” Luti had said to her earlier tonight, “you did far more damage than good, Chandra.”

  “But I—”

  “Eliminating one ghost warden may have been helpful—”

  “May have been? That thing was a spy for the Order!” “—or it may have been ill-advised. In either case—”

  “Ill-advised how?” Chandra demanded.

  “In either case,” Luti said, clearly losing patience with her.

  “The possible benefit of eliminating one ghost warden from the forest cannot balance the catastrophe of burning down the forest.”

  More admonishments had followed. “Playing with fire is bad for those who burn themselves,” said Luti quoting some sage or another. “But for the rest of us it is a great pleasure. I want you to be able to experience this pleasure as I do, Chandra, but until you learn to control your impulses, you will continue to burn yourself and those around you.”

  Chandra lay wide awake in bed thinking about that last statement and wrestling with the emotions it stirred.

  She hated being reprimanded and lectured. It made her want to leave Regatha, Keral Keep, and Mother Luti far behind her. She was seething with indignation and felt like setting something on fire, even though that was precisely what had gotten her into this trouble in the first place.

  On the other hand …

  Chandra heaved a breath as she lay on her back, staring up into the darkness.

  On the other hand, she had indeed destroyed part, however small, of the forest, enraged a tribe of oufes, and no doubt caused a lot of trouble for Samir. The woodlanders hadn’t ever done her any harm. Samir considered her a friend, and the Keralians sought cooperation with the forest races against the encr
oaching power of the Order. It wasn’t entirely unreasonable for Luti to say that making enemies in the woods by wreaking destruction had been a bad decision, or, rather, to quote her, “a stupid misstep.” The actual decision had been to rid the woodlands of a spy for the Order. That was a good idea, thought Chandra.

  However, given the way things had turned out, it was possible that the woodlanders found a single ghost warden among many to be slightly less disruptive to their daily routine than she had been.

  Chandra kept reviewing the events of that day and wondering what she should have done differently. Capture the ghost warden instead of kill it? How could she have done that? The creature was so fast and elusive, she had barely been able to get close enough to throw fireballs at it. Should she have just let it spy on her and then go its merry way? Out of the question! Instead of killing it in the woods, should she have chased it to the plains and thereby accidentally set the farmlands on fire? Would Luti be less exasperated with her now if farmers were enraged instead of woodlanders?

  Chandra rolled over on her side and tried to punch some shape into her flat pillow.

  And why might killing a ghost warden be ill-advised, anyway? Surely Luti didn’t think it was a good thing to have those creepy creatures roaming the woods and spying for the Order? To hear Samir talk, it wasn’t long before they started appearing in the mountains to protect the Keralians from themselves and anything they might do that the Order didn’t like.

  Tired of chasing this subject around and around in her head, Chandra closed her eyes and tried to will herself to relax and get some sleep. She forced herself to clear her mind, focus on her breathing, and let the darkness absorb the clamoring voices in her head.

  But then she realized the voices weren’t all in her head. She frowned irritably as she recognized the sound of whispering directly outside her door. It was very late, but some of the Keralian acolytes were night owls who preferred to study and practice until dawn and then sleep all morning. Life at the monastery was pretty unstructured, and the residents seldom interfered with each other’s habits, as long as they didn’t impinge on the rights or comforts of anyone else.