The Girl Born of Smoke (32 page)

“Well, I want to come.” She yawned and
pushed the blankets off her body. “I don’t want to just sleep all
day.”

He rolled his eyes. “Could’ve fooled me.
Anyway, hurry and go wash up and stuff. You look like well, like
you just traveled across the mountains and through the mud.”

“I wonder why.” She stuck
her tongue out at him and followed him out the back door. The air
was still chilly and goosebumps rose on her arms, but the sun
warmed the top of her head. They followed a trail down a hill to a
small stream with wooden buckets sitting on the bank nearest them.
For the first time in days, trees were visible, the naked branches
leaning across the water. Taking off her shoes, Tarana dipped a
foot in the shallow water and instantly sprang back. “That’s
absolutely
freezing,
Djerr! I’ll die if I go in there!”

“Baby,” Djerr teased. He stripped off his
own shoes and ran into the stream, splashing water on her.
Screeching, she clasped her arms in front of her, teeth chattering.
“Come on, come on,” he urged her, coming forward and pulling on her
hands. “You’ll get used to it, I swear. Once you get wet, you won’t
even feel the cold anymore.”

“Yeah!” she objected.
“That’s because all the blood in your body is leaving your
extremities in order to keep the core of your body warm and
functioning, at least for a little longer. It’s a response
to
deathly cold water
.”

“You’re too smart for your own good.” Djerr
shook his head sadly. “Look, you’ll be fine, come on. Just take a
quick dip, then you can go dry out and sulk.”

Glaring at him, she bit her lip and ran into
the stream, diving headfirst when it got deep enough. She felt her
chest tightening as the cold water rushed into her clothes and
surrounded her. Still underwater, she opened her eyes and saw a
small school of silver fish skittering across the rocky bottom,
away from her feet as she kicked. Furiously scrubbing her hair, she
emerged back to the surface and found Djerr treading water across
from her as they slowly let themselves be carried downstream with
the current. “See, it’s not that bad!” he exclaimed.

Still scrubbing her arms
and clothes with her hands, Tarana glared again at him. “It
is
that bad. If I freeze
to death, I hope you feel bad.”

Djerr raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said
you couldn’t die.”

Confused for a moment, Tarana continued
treading water while she tried to remember what he was referring
to. “Ohhhh,” she finally remembered, “I did say that, didn’t I?
Back in Ralinos, when we were being kept in that awful dungeon.”
She made a face at the memory. “Well I don’t know. It seemed
possible at the time. I know, you think it’s stupid, but it’s not
like I’m doing anything reckless or trying to get myself
killed.”

He shrugged. “Well, whatever. We’d better
get you out of here before you really do freeze to death.” Emerging
from the stream, Djerr led her to sunny patch of ground where a
tree had fallen. Stripping off his wet shirt, he hung it on one of
the branches that stuck straight up from the log. Using the mossy
branches as steps, she climbed up on top of the log and settled
down, using one twisted branch to rest her back. Djerr gave her a
crooked grin. “You know you’d dry out a lot faster if you took your
clothes off and let them dry on their own.”

Crossing her arms, Tarana fixed him with a
look. “Djerr, no.”

“Aw, why not?” He climbed up beside her and
gave her a playful nudge. “I’m just trying to help, you know!”

“Would you cut it out,” Tarana snarled
suddenly. “I said no. Now drop it.” She looked away, jaw
clenched.

Djerr slipped off the log and landed lightly
on his feet. “Sorry,” he said softly and wandered off to retrieve
their shoes. When he returned, she had closed her eyes and was
lying back on the log, so he waited nearby, wringing out his hair
and pulling his shirt back on, which hung limply on his body. They
didn’t speak until much later, when Tarana rose, squinting her eyes
at the bright sunlight and shaking out her hair. Djerr stood up
from where he had been sitting. “Ready to go?” he asked simply.

She looked at him without answering, her
forehead slightly creased. “I’m sorry for bringing you into all
this,” she said worriedly.

Taken aback, he cocked his head. “What do
you mean? You never brought me anywhere. I came of my own free
will.”

She sighed and slid off the log. “That’s
what I worry about,” she said, still looking troubled. “I worry
that you came for the wrong reasons and you’re going to regret it
later.”

Djerr waved his hand, brushing away her
comments. “Stop worrying so much, Tara. Let’s just go take a look
around town and check out those new houses.” As she opened her
mouth, he shook his head and interjected before she could say
anything. “No, just stop. We can talk later, alright?”

She was unusually quiet for the rest of the
day as they explored the city. To Djerr’s delight, it was market
day and the streets were full of strange foods they had never seen
or smelled before. After asking a few vendors if they had any
damaged food to give away, he managed to claim a couple pieces of a
bright red fruit that spurted with juice as he bit into it. He gave
the other to Tarana, who brushed off the dirt and took a large
bite. It had a much sharper taste than any fruit they had tried
before and the tangy taste prickled their tongues and forced them
to eat slowly.

As they followed the large market-road
through the city, they occasionally stopped to look at tiny
trinkets of carved wood or large stands of dried herbs whose smell
overwhelmed them and made their eyes water. The stands gradually
became farther apart until they reached the edge of town where the
houses were being built. The farther they walked, the less complete
each house looked. They were very small and clearly hastily built,
but sturdy all the same.

People swarmed around them, hammering,
shouting to each other, and scampering up and down ladders propped
up on each house. They stood watching for awhile, until a huge man
with wiry black hair and dark skin stomped up to them. “Buying or
building?” he asked shortly. He wore a small rectangular metal tag
on his jacket, which Tarana quickly glanced at. It seemed to
identify him as one of the city officials. She and Djerr glanced at
each other, then looked back at him.

“Both, maybe?” Djerr ventured.

He gave a short nod, and beckoned over
another man. “Two more for you. They’re little. Give ‘em something
hard, toughen ‘em up.” He stomped away, already calling out orders
to others.

The other man slouched over, favoring his
left leg. He looked doubtfully at the two and heaved a heavy sigh.
“Alright, well, we are in need of a couple more down this way,” he
led them slowly down the road, away from town. “My name’s
Will.”

Djerr started to open his mouth, but Will
glanced over and waved his hand. “No, I don’t care what your names
are. I don’t care if you come to work each day. If you do, you come
find me. Ask around, someone will know where I am. You check in
with me at the beginning of the day and you check in with me at the
end of the day to get paid. That’s it. You don’t need to talk to me
otherwise. The others on the job will show you what you need to do.
You have a place to stay?”

They nodded and Djerr interjected, “But we
would like to buy one of the houses eventually.”

Will sighed again. “Alright, then you need
to be put on the waiting list.” He pulled out a piece of paper from
his pocket and handed it over, along with a pen. “Write down your
names and I’ll go get them on the list. It’s posted at the
beginning of the housing project area, back down that way.” He
jabbed his thumb back toward town. “Check the names every day and
if you have enough money when your name comes up, find a city
official and they’ll get you to your house.”

“How long does it take to get to the top of
the list?” Tarana questioned.

Will shrugged, looking disinterested.
“Depends. I don’t know. Probably a month or two. There are a lot of
names.” He stopped and ushered them toward one of the houses in the
beginning stages. “Well, go get to work. If you don’t hold your
weight, I’ll hear about it.” With that, he turned away and limped
back down the road.

Giving each other a look of great
trepidation, Djerr and Tarana approached the house and were
immediately set to work by one of the women, holding up boards as
they were nailed into place. Their hands were quickly filled with
splinters and small cuts, but the work continued unabated.

They were allowed a small break as the sun
peaked overhead, but as they hadn’t brought any food, they simply
laid on the ground and tried to catch their breath before the woman
yelled at them to get back up and get to work. By the end of the
day, they were sore, bleeding, and hungry, but also had a pocketful
of money.

The next day, they checked for their names
and the following days after that. With a free floor to sleep on
and a free meal every night, they gradually saved up money to move
out on their own. As the days grew warmer and longer, Tarana
continued her lessons every night and occasionally snuck down to
the stream late in the evening to practice forming little spheres
of water from a distance or making the surface of the water light
up and throw dancing reflections of light on the trees.

One night, she reclined on the rocky banks,
a small branch dangling above her head. A small budding flower hung
off the branch, which bounced slowly up and down as the breeze
nudged it. Reaching up, she touched it lightly, automatically
pressing at it with her magic, trying to see how it was built.
Studying its structure, she absentmindedly moved her other hand,
forming a duplicate structure.

It was a procedure she had practiced dozens
of times, although never on something so complicated. Glancing up,
she noticed the moon had crossed half of the sky, but she had only
completed a small portion of one petal. As she touched it, a small
bead of water leaked out and it crinkled further and broke apart.
Disappointed, she dropped it into the stream, where it spread as
dust on the surface. That night, she brought up the experience with
Rupert.

“Ah,” he murmured, “the test every young
wizard attempts at least once. Sometimes many times. Try as you
might, you will never inject life into anything you create. Whether
it is something that was once living and died, or something you
conjured up yourself, you do not have the power to create
life.”

Tarana shook her head, confused. “But why
not?” she asked. “What happens when you try?”

Rupert gestured broadly. “Well, usually just
the same as you described. It withers and turns to dust. Sometimes,
if you are especially good at balancing all the molecules required
to sustain life, you will be left with a complete, yet lifeless
being. Sometimes it’s somewhere in between. But no wizard ever has
succeeded in creating life. It is far too difficult of a balance to
maintain long enough to get the organism going and too complicated
to attempt. You have no idea all the chemical and physical
processes occurring in a living being and you’d be better off
turning your attention elsewhere.”

She sighed. “Alright, where should I be
turning my attention then?”

Studying her silently for several moments,
he crossed his arms. “You know where I want you to turn your
attention. It’s time for you to lead the Wizard’s Army. You’re
growing strong enough to prove yourself to them and fight off any
attacks by the Citizens’ Army.”

“I am so sick of hearing you talk about the
armies.” She threw up her hands in frustration. “If you want to
teach me more about magic, that’s great, but I’m not going back to
lead any army. That’s not what I want to do with my life and my
powers, alright?”

Rupert continued studying her, bony arms
crossed in front of his chest. “You recall your old hometown,
correct?”

“Kain?” she asked, confused. “Of course I
remember Kain, it was attacked by the Wizard’s Army way back.”

“No, not Kain. Your actual hometown.
Delobo.”

She blinked. “Well yeah, I remember Delobo.
I haven’t been there in ages, though. Last time I saw it, I was
with the Citizens’ and the whole town was totally empty. It was
kind of creepy.”

“Exactly.” Rupert nodded. “Totally empty. Do
you know why that was?”

“Well no,” she paused, growing even more
confused. “Nobody knew where everyone had gone. It was like it was
just abandoned. Maybe they got attacked by the griffins too?”

He shook his head, his expression impossible
to read. “There was no sign of destruction, Tarana. What else would
cause everyone to disappear?”

“Well maybe there was something wrong with
the town and they all moved away. I don’t know. Why are you asking
me this?”

He sighed. “You see, the truth is, they all
succumbed to a terrible disease shortly after you left. It started
with the babies and the oldest, frailest people, but gradually
everyone became ill. Oh at first, they tried sequestering the ill
in their homes to halt the spread of the disease, but it was too
late. Everyone had already become infected and it was only a matter
of time before the symptoms started to show.

“It was a quick death and while they began
by burying the dead, they quickly became overwhelmed and had to
hold mass ceremonies, where the weak, near death ones had to
quickly burn the deceased. The last few tried to escape the area,
hoping that maybe it was the water or the air or the food. However,
it was hopeless and they were soon dead as well, lost in the forest
to be eaten by the animals. No one survived and the town was
completely abandoned until you and your fellow soldiers passed
through.”