Embrace the Fire (8 page)

C
hennuh soared
, invisible, far above the camp. Kinna searched the ground, nervous that the Dragon would block the moon and give away their position. Guards stood at attention around the perimeter of the camp. The commander's tent stood in the middle, the banner bearing the royal crest barely distinguishable above it.

Kinna shivered as she remembered the nights that had turned into at least a month, a month of tortuous waiting. When they had returned to The Crossings after fleeing the Tournament, she and Lincoln had stolen into the castle under a thick guise of Pixie charm, but they couldn't get close to Cedric. Sebastian's dungeons were guarded by more than mere men and creatures. Seer Fey spells wove the barricades, and even Lincoln's powerful Pixie charm couldn't affect them. As the weeks had slipped by, they had turned their attention to other strategies and ideas.

“Have you heard from Helga?” Kinna asked abruptly as Chennuh leaned into the wind for another turn.

She couldn't see the Pixie; Chennuh and anything attached to him were shuttered in invisible refraction, but she could hear the curiosity in his voice. “Not lately. Not since we left her home the last time. Why?”

Kinna absently stroked Chennuh's heated scales. “I just thought it would be really wonderful if she were with us right now. It's hard to withstand her
taibe
.”

“Even she couldn't charm this entire encampment, Kinna.”

“I know. I just wish—”

Chennuh pulled sharply to the right, interrupting Kinna's thoughts. She glanced toward the south where Chennuh leaned, immediately asking what was wrong. Though she could pick her way through his mind, and he could do the same for her, she couldn't see the cause of his restlessness. She felt some urgent emotion that rankled deep within him and emerged through frustrated huffs of smoke. She soothed him with a touch.
Soon, Chennuh. Focus on Cedric for now.

Lincoln pointed to the ground far below. “Try landing him in the bog at the back of Sebastian's army.”

“Chennuh will splash.”

“They may write it off as a crane. The birds are plentiful here.”

If they landed in the bog, they would be closer to the gaol than if they were to go to the more heavily guarded southern flank and try to slip between guards. Once they were off Chennuh, they would be visible again as well.

Chennuh didn't wait for Kinna's approval. Agreement with the Pixie sparked in his mind and he circled to the left, slipping silently through the air, his mirrored wings slicing downward as he approached the marshy waters.

Chennuh had sensed Kinna's hesitation. When he splashed to a landing, he forked his wings downward, immediately halting forward momentum, and only a small wave broke before his scaled body.

Kinna held her breath as she waited for shouts from the army perimeter, but none sounded.

“No worries, m'lady,” Lincoln whispered. “I'll sing anything to sleep that comes our way.”

“Unless the whole army finds us.”

“In which case, I'll sing our way up to the gallows and spit in Sebastian's bearded face.” His voice was only half-teasing.

Kinna dropped to the ground, immediately moving into visibility. Lincoln appeared beside her.

“Your hair's a bit of a beacon, you know,” he murmured, and Kinna grabbed her mantle's hood, raising it over her head, tucking her braid securely beneath it.

“What about yours?” she hissed. “Orange isn't exactly camouflage.”

Lincoln shrugged his own hood up. “Point taken.”

The nearest set of guards marched along the perimeter. They had turned away from Kinna and Lincoln, beating a rhythm toward the southern flank. Lincoln waited until they were at least half a fieldspan away. “Go,” he murmured, and they waded toward the tents, entering the line without drawing attention to themselves.

Kinna squeezed her mantle's hem, removing the excess moisture. To their right, about a fieldspan away, cages vibrated with the movements of the creatures within. To the left, scores of tents pitched the Plain's sodden floor. On a slight rise near the center of the ranks, she could see the Commanders' tent. West Ashwynd's royal flag waved above it. Beyond it, toward the back of the encampment, another tent with the black symbol of a gaol emblazoned its banner.

Kinna's heart thudded; Cedric was so near. “The guards?” she whispered to Lincoln as they kept their pace slow and sedate between tents. “There will be several; we missed the shift-change.”

“I'll handle them,” he answered. His voice was brittle.
He's afraid
, Kinna thought, a shiver spiking her spine. She'd rarely seen him this tense.

Men huddled around campfires, few even sparing the pair a glance as they passed silently by. Kinna was never so thankful for the cover of her hood, or the fact that several other Dimn and soldiers wandered freely between tents, many wearing mantles in the cool, crisp air.

When they finally neared the Commanders' tent with the gaol beyond it, she stopped short, and then stumbled backward behind a tent.

In the opening of the Commander's tent stood a familiar figure, his chiseled features as cruel as she had remembered. His horse stood nearby, still saddled, lathered from a hard ride. Attendants scurried around him, ducking his harsh commands.

King Sebastian had arrived.

“
T
hree cheers
.” Linc's flat, dead tone twisted the sarcasm even deeper into his words as he stared at the King. “Just who I wished to see here and now.”

Kinna peered around the corner of the tent, shaking her head. “What do we do, Linc?”

“I'm just the Pixie; you're the one with royal blood,” he whispered.

“Doesn't mean I know what I'm doing.” She glanced back toward the perimeter. “Perhaps I should have Chennuh create a distraction.”

“Can you reach that far? Will he hear you?”

Kinna tossed her thoughts toward the blackness, searching for Chennuh's answering ones. She soon found his familiar thought patterns, but they weren't focused on what she was expecting. She frowned.

“What?”

Kinna ignored him, her hand fisting into the thick canvas of a tent corner. “Linc, look,” she whispered hoarsely.

Far down the row, in the muck of the Plains to the southwest of the regiment, a milling crowd of horses, wagons, and other conveyances took up the outer fringes of the camp. Sentries guided would-be soldiers up the aisle toward the Commanders' tent, loud calls pulling the people into formation.

Lincoln gripped Kinna, pulling her backward, even as people swarmed around them, pushing and prodding them toward the Commander's tent. “It's the recruits,” he called in her ear, “mixed with forces from the Three Maids. This is what your fiancé was preparing for when last we saw him.”

“I knew he was coming, but I didn't expect recruits.”

“They must have picked them up on the way. Look, Dryaddimn with their creatures, Unicorndimn with theirs. They're recruits from the Clans they passed through to get here.”

Kinna eyed the stream of people who blocked them from the gaol.

“Kinna?” Lincoln's voice cut through the hubbub. “What do you want to do?”

He was asking if she wanted him to sing; it would perhaps be their most effective tool. He could pull out all the forces of his Pixie magic to try to make a dent in the crush around them. It might work, temporarily. It might even let them run free back to the bogs and make an escape on Chennuh's back. But the captors would know that she was here, and Cedric would forever be beyond her reach.

Kinna shook her head. “No, I have an idea.”

Linc immediately frowned. “And what's that?”

“We're signing up for active duty, Linc. The recruits will be able to move around inside the camp without suspicion, even close to the gaol tent. And it's the only way we can get from here to there without being noticed.”

Lincoln considered her words. “And your mark?”

A Pixie mark had never stayed on Kinna's skin, and she would be required to show her mark for registry in the King's forces. “Concentrate all your magic on the one who takes our names.”

A hard ball of nervousness gripped Kinna's stomach as they found a place in line and moved slowly forward to the lists on the tables. In the Commanders' tent at the top of the rise, Sebastian sat on a chair, his attention on a mess of unfurled parchments in front of him. Kinna silently begged him not to look up. She slid her hood farther forward so it shaded her face.

When they at last reached the tables, a quill lay beside a scrawled-over parchment. The man behind the table glanced over Kinna and Lincoln. “Is this your Pixie, Dimn?”

“Aye.” Kinna's fist bunched her mantle in front.

“Sign your name here, and show me your mark.”

Lincoln's voice washed across the table as Kinna bent slowly to sign a name on the parchment. She dipped the quill in the ink and signed her mother's middle name: Katya, Pixiedimn. She sent a repentant prayer to the Stars for forgiveness. When Katya, Pixiedimn never arrived for her appointed work, it would bring disgrace on her mother's name.
It's all for Cedric. My mother would do no less.

She straightened and set down the quill, waiting for the man to force the issue of her mark. The man's eyes were empty, however, and with a brief, dazed nod, he handed them their identification necklaces and motioned them to the side. “Pixiedimn quarters, please. You'll find your supplies in your tent.”

Lincoln quickly pulled Kinna back into the crowd, moving them toward the fringes. “Kinna, there are too many eyes. Let's get back to Chennuh before this gets any worse.”

“No.” Kinna stopped in the shadow of a tent. “I mean, yes, I want to get back to Chennuh, but first Cedric. We haven't come this far to give up now. We can move around without standing out, at least for a little bit.”

“We can also fight and die here. Come on, Kinna, let's just go.”

Kinna shook her head. “No. Cedric, now. That was the whole point of coming, and we're too close to give up.” She glanced up the hill at the gaol tent. Guards were posted at all four corners of it, their swords drawn as they stood silent and unmoving. Kinna wished the tent would flap open in the night's breeze, just enough so she could glimpse her twin to make certain that he was okay, but the night was still and the only disturbance came from the new recruits as they hurried off to their quarters.

Lincoln finally gave in. “Well, come on then. They'll wonder why we're standing here doing nothing ... Katya.” The impish glint in his eye was back. “Shall we tell Julian your change of name?”

“What?” Kinna gasped.

Lincoln nodded at a point over Kinna's shoulder. She whirled.

Julian had arrived at the table, bending over it to check the Pixie lists. Behind him, massive lines of more soldiers streamed across the Plains from the distant foothills of the Rues. Julian's Pixie Division Three had arrived. The tall, dark Pixie was easily recognizable with Sage's turquoise hair just behind him.

Kinna wrenched her arm from Lincoln's and stepped behind a tent, tucking her hair more securely beneath her hood.

“You could always shave your hair,” Lincoln commented. “I've a good hand with a knife; perhaps you'd allow me?”

Kinna threw him a look that withered and turned with the other enlistees for the Dimn quarters. As she and Lincoln hurried along, Kinna breathed quiet whispers to him. “From what I could see, Pixie quarters are set up on the far side of the gaol tent. Julian may be nearby, and we may need your magic to try to keep him fooled.”

“Great.” Lincoln rolled his eyes as they walked.

“There are too many people here right now, but as soon as the rush settles, let's go check on Cedric. Don't forget that you'll need to use your Pixie magic on the guards.”

“Obviously. Kinna,” Lincoln stopped abruptly, pulling her with him. “Why don't you want to let Julian know you're here?”

Kinna's shoulders sagged as she thought of her betrothed. There was so much she couldn't explain about the situation, so she said the only thing that made sense. “Because he'll send me home.”

The camp gradually quieted as recruits received their supplies and packed off to their quarters. Kinna, who had found a sheltered space between the backs of two tents, stole toward the gaol, Lincoln beside her. The Commanders' tent flaps were closed, though torchlight dipped beneath the canvas. As Kinna hurried past it and through the rows toward the gaol tent, a shiver of apprehension laced her spine. It was too easy.

The same thought appeared to have struck Lincoln. The Pixie paused. “The guards are gone, Kinna.”

“They were there only minutes earlier.”

“When appearance demanded it for the new recruits. They didn't want to let on that all was not as it was supposed to be, particularly with the new recruits and ranking officers arriving from the Three Maids.”

Without answering, Kinna ran the rest of the way, circling to the rear of the gaol. She jerked the tent flaps aside, her heart sinking to her toes as she surveyed the empty cell.

Cedric was gone.

Lincoln's quiet presence behind her turned her.

“What have they done with him?” Her voice cracked as she struggled to control emotions that tumbled through her insides.

For once, Lincoln had no answer. He pulled her into a hug, lightly rubbing her back. “We'll figure it out, Kinna. We'll find him.”

Tears didn't come even then. They swelled inside Kinna, seeking a bursting point, but she couldn't release them. She needed Chennuh. She needed to look into his smoky irises and feel the soul connection she shared with him, and somehow, her fear would work itself out.

She squeezed Lincoln and stepped back. She opened her mouth to spell out her plans, but he already knew. “Chennuh?” he asked.

She nodded, her mind searching for her Dragon's.

She couldn't find it. “Chennuh?” Panic sparked, and she broke into a run, pulling Lincoln behind her. He easily matched her steps as they splashed into the bog. Kinna still couldn't connect with her Dragon's mind. “Linc, he's gone!”

Lincoln pointed to the left. “Are you sure? We left him over there.”