Fire Study
Page 40
“Leif, do you always think with your stomach?” I asked.
“Is there any other way?”
I sighed. “We’ll post a watch inside. Moon Man, how many entrances to this building?”
“Two. The main one leading to the street, and one in the back through the kitchen.”
“How about upstairs? Is there another staircase in the kitchen?”
“Yes, but we can secure the door into our hallway.”
“Good. We’ll each take a two-hour watch. I need to rest after I heal Tauno’s injuries so I won’t take the first shift. Moon Man can start, followed by Leif, me and Tauno.”
We left Moon Man in the common room. I helped Tauno to his room. Stiff and sore, he moved with care. When he was comfortable on the bed, I pulled a string of power and examined the damage. Aside from two broken ribs, his other wounds were minor. Staring at his injuries until they transferred to me, I hunched over with the pain and then pushed it away.
Tauno squeezed my hand in thanks before falling asleep. I trudged to my bed, not as exhausted as I had been in the past. Perhaps my healing skills improved with practice. Or had I grown used to relying on my magic?
“Yelena, wake up.” Leif shook my shoulder.
I peered at him through heavy eyes. He placed the lantern on the table.
“You’re the one who set the schedule. Come on.” He pulled the blanket off me. “Most commanders don’t take a turn guarding the troops. They get a good night’s sleep so they can make the right decisions in the morning.”
I sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing my eyes. “I’m not a commander and we’re not a troop.”
“I disagree. You’ve been leading the way. You’re the one who knows what
you’re doing.” “I—”
Leif put his fingers on my lips. “Don’t say it. I like—no—need to believe that you know what you’re doing. Makes it so much easier to follow your instructions, especially when I’m acting as bait for a fifty-foot-long snake.”
“Fine. I have things well in hand. I don’t need much sleep because I have all the steps we need to take already planned out. Happy now?”
“Yes.” Leif stretched out on his bed.
I picked up the lantern. “Sweet dreams.”
“They will be now.”
The hallway of the inn was dark and quiet. I checked the door leading to the kitchen stairs. It remained locked tight. Good. Descending into the common area, I thought about Leif’s comments. I might be the one making the decisions, but I didn’t believe I had enough knowledge to be a commander. Gut instinct still propelled my actions.
Valek had taught me about strategy and clandestine operations, and my Ixian friends, Ari and Janco, had taught me to fight. Late-night sessions with Janco were the reason I could pick locks. However, my magical training with Irys had been interrupted by Ferde’s quest for power.
There could be a magical way to find Ferde and counter a Fire Warper, but since I hadn’t read all those books about magic and history, and I hadn’t explored my powers to find their limits, he was the test I hadn’t studied for, the quiz I was bound to fail. Out of my depth.
The empty common room echoed with my footsteps. I made a circuit of the area to check for intruders before I set the lantern down and went outside to visit the horses. The cold air stabbed through my cloak.
Kiki stood in the alley next to the inn. Her dark coat blended with the shadows, but the white blaze down her face reflected the moonlight.
Smells? I asked, reaching up to scratch behind her ears.
Fresh. No bad.
Any trouble?
She snorted with amusement. Two men. Woman.
She replayed the memory of two men robbing a woman. They had been so preoccupied with searching her packages they failed to notice Kiki’s quiet approach. Quiet, because Kiki, like all the Sanseed horses, refused to wear metal horseshoes.
Kiki had spun and used her back legs with expert precision. The men landed half a block away, and the woman, after staring wide-eyed at Kiki, took off in the opposite direction. I wondered why the lady had been out so late.
She’ll probably spread rumors about being rescued by a ghost horse, I said to Kiki. Maybe they’ll change the inn’s name to Four Ghosts.
I like ghosts. Quiet.
You see ghosts?
Yes.
Where?
Here. There. Places.
Here? I looked around. The empty street seemed deserted. I don’t see any.
You will. She nuzzled my cloak, sniffing the pockets. I like peppermints, too.
I gave her the mints. Care to elaborate on the ghost issue?
No.
She retreated down the alley and I returned to the inn. The lantern’s flame flickered as I made another sweep of the kitchen and rooms upstairs before settling down near the hearth. Embers glowed within the remains of the fire. Suppressing my apprehension, I added a few logs to coax the coals into a small fire to heat water for tea. Such a diminutive blaze shouldn’t be big enough for the Fire Warper.
Perhaps the size of the fire equaled the size of the Fire Warper. The image of a foot-tall Fire Warper leaping from the hearth caused me to laugh, but knowing he needed only one flame to start a fire ruined my good humor.
Searching my pack for tea leaves, I found Opal’s package. Curious to see which glass animal had called to her, I unwrapped the thick cloth. A charcoal-gray bat with green eyes came to life in my hands. I almost dropped the piece in surprise, but even with its wings outstretched the palm-size creature didn’t take flight. Opal’s magic—not life—glowed from the core of the bat. Closer examination revealed flecks of silver along the bat’s body and wings.
“Is there any other way?”
I sighed. “We’ll post a watch inside. Moon Man, how many entrances to this building?”
“Two. The main one leading to the street, and one in the back through the kitchen.”
“How about upstairs? Is there another staircase in the kitchen?”
“Yes, but we can secure the door into our hallway.”
“Good. We’ll each take a two-hour watch. I need to rest after I heal Tauno’s injuries so I won’t take the first shift. Moon Man can start, followed by Leif, me and Tauno.”
We left Moon Man in the common room. I helped Tauno to his room. Stiff and sore, he moved with care. When he was comfortable on the bed, I pulled a string of power and examined the damage. Aside from two broken ribs, his other wounds were minor. Staring at his injuries until they transferred to me, I hunched over with the pain and then pushed it away.
Tauno squeezed my hand in thanks before falling asleep. I trudged to my bed, not as exhausted as I had been in the past. Perhaps my healing skills improved with practice. Or had I grown used to relying on my magic?
“Yelena, wake up.” Leif shook my shoulder.
I peered at him through heavy eyes. He placed the lantern on the table.
“You’re the one who set the schedule. Come on.” He pulled the blanket off me. “Most commanders don’t take a turn guarding the troops. They get a good night’s sleep so they can make the right decisions in the morning.”
I sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing my eyes. “I’m not a commander and we’re not a troop.”
“I disagree. You’ve been leading the way. You’re the one who knows what
you’re doing.” “I—”
Leif put his fingers on my lips. “Don’t say it. I like—no—need to believe that you know what you’re doing. Makes it so much easier to follow your instructions, especially when I’m acting as bait for a fifty-foot-long snake.”
“Fine. I have things well in hand. I don’t need much sleep because I have all the steps we need to take already planned out. Happy now?”
“Yes.” Leif stretched out on his bed.
I picked up the lantern. “Sweet dreams.”
“They will be now.”
The hallway of the inn was dark and quiet. I checked the door leading to the kitchen stairs. It remained locked tight. Good. Descending into the common area, I thought about Leif’s comments. I might be the one making the decisions, but I didn’t believe I had enough knowledge to be a commander. Gut instinct still propelled my actions.
Valek had taught me about strategy and clandestine operations, and my Ixian friends, Ari and Janco, had taught me to fight. Late-night sessions with Janco were the reason I could pick locks. However, my magical training with Irys had been interrupted by Ferde’s quest for power.
There could be a magical way to find Ferde and counter a Fire Warper, but since I hadn’t read all those books about magic and history, and I hadn’t explored my powers to find their limits, he was the test I hadn’t studied for, the quiz I was bound to fail. Out of my depth.
The empty common room echoed with my footsteps. I made a circuit of the area to check for intruders before I set the lantern down and went outside to visit the horses. The cold air stabbed through my cloak.
Kiki stood in the alley next to the inn. Her dark coat blended with the shadows, but the white blaze down her face reflected the moonlight.
Smells? I asked, reaching up to scratch behind her ears.
Fresh. No bad.
Any trouble?
She snorted with amusement. Two men. Woman.
She replayed the memory of two men robbing a woman. They had been so preoccupied with searching her packages they failed to notice Kiki’s quiet approach. Quiet, because Kiki, like all the Sanseed horses, refused to wear metal horseshoes.
Kiki had spun and used her back legs with expert precision. The men landed half a block away, and the woman, after staring wide-eyed at Kiki, took off in the opposite direction. I wondered why the lady had been out so late.
She’ll probably spread rumors about being rescued by a ghost horse, I said to Kiki. Maybe they’ll change the inn’s name to Four Ghosts.
I like ghosts. Quiet.
You see ghosts?
Yes.
Where?
Here. There. Places.
Here? I looked around. The empty street seemed deserted. I don’t see any.
You will. She nuzzled my cloak, sniffing the pockets. I like peppermints, too.
I gave her the mints. Care to elaborate on the ghost issue?
No.
She retreated down the alley and I returned to the inn. The lantern’s flame flickered as I made another sweep of the kitchen and rooms upstairs before settling down near the hearth. Embers glowed within the remains of the fire. Suppressing my apprehension, I added a few logs to coax the coals into a small fire to heat water for tea. Such a diminutive blaze shouldn’t be big enough for the Fire Warper.
Perhaps the size of the fire equaled the size of the Fire Warper. The image of a foot-tall Fire Warper leaping from the hearth caused me to laugh, but knowing he needed only one flame to start a fire ruined my good humor.
Searching my pack for tea leaves, I found Opal’s package. Curious to see which glass animal had called to her, I unwrapped the thick cloth. A charcoal-gray bat with green eyes came to life in my hands. I almost dropped the piece in surprise, but even with its wings outstretched the palm-size creature didn’t take flight. Opal’s magic—not life—glowed from the core of the bat. Closer examination revealed flecks of silver along the bat’s body and wings.
