The Purifying Fire: A Planeswalker Novel (21 page)

“That’s a surprisingly tactful way for you to put it. You must be tired.” He stepped over her prone body and started laying his bedroll in the narrow space between hers and the wall.

“What are you doing?” she demanded. “You’re
not
sleeping this close to me.”

“Yes, I am. I want you lying between me and her,” he said firmly. “You’re my protection.”

Chandra snorted again. “Oh. All right. Fine.”

She rolled over on her side, with her back to him, and closed her eyes. She assumed Falia wouldn’t be pleased with this arrangement when she returned to the hut, but Chandra was much too tired to care.

She dreamed of fire.

Not the hot power that had mingled with her fear and fury when she killed the Enervants. And not the wild flames that had scalded her in the Blind Eternities as she made her escape from the Prelate’s dungeon.

The fire in her dreams wasn’t the seduction of a boom spell, or the fragile sparks of a new enchantment. No, this
was the fire of sorrow and grief, of shame and regret.

“I don’t want to kill any innocents,” Gideon said in that calm, impassive voice he often used. White flames danced around him as he said it. Pure white.

And in those flames, she could hear their screams clearly. Their bodies writhed in the fire, and the stench of their burning flesh made her want to vomit, as it always did. Her throat burned with sobs that wouldn’t come out.

But the sobs
must
be coming out, because she could hear them. Choked, desperate, tearful gasps.

“Chandra,” he whispered, his voice cool against the heat of the agonized screams of the innocents dying in the fire.

She tried to move, but her limbs were immobile. She wanted to scream, but only a helpless moan emerged from her throat.

“Chandra.”

And when the blade of a sword swept down to her throat, she awoke with a strangled gasp of horror.

It was dark. No candles were burning. And Chandra had no fire to call upon here.

“Shhh, it’s a dream, just a dream,” Gideon whispered. His arms came around her. “Shhh.”

She struggled against the imprisoning arms.

“It’s me,” he whispered. “You had a nightmare.”

Her heart was pounding. Her temples throbbed. She was sweating. A strangled sob escaped her throat, humiliating her.

His body was pressed up against her side as she lay on her back. One hard arm encircled her shoulders, the other curled around to cradle her face. “Shhh. You’re fine. It was just a dream.”

Chandra raised her hand to the hand that cupped her cheek. She intended to reject that intrusive, offending
caress. To fling off his hand … But somehow, instead, she found herself grasping it. He returned her grip and squeezed gently.

“Just a dream,” he said again.

She focused on her breathing, trying to steady it.

“Maybe going to bed on a belly full of grub worms wasn’t such a good idea,” he whispered.

A choke of surprised laughter escaped her.

Then she felt queasy. “You had to mention that,” she murmured. “I’d actually forgotten.”

“Sorry,” he breathed against her ear.

She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. She could still hear her heart thudding with terror and guilt.

Gideon said, “Do you want to tell me what you dreamed?”

“No.”

He accepted this, and they lay quietly together. After a while, he lifted his head. Then he whispered, “It’s too dark to see, but I think she’s still asleep.”

Chandra was glad she hadn’t disturbed the girl. Having woken Gideon was embarrassing enough.

He lowered his head again, letting it rest close to hers. “I can’t tell how long we’ve been asleep. The light’s always exactly the same here.”

“The moonlight, you mean.”

“Mmm.”

She tried to get her mind off the shadows of her past. It was better to think about the present—even
this
present. “Now that we know more about Velrav and this place … I don’t feel we’re any closer to knowing what to do about it. How to get out of here, I mean.” She kept her voice soft, so as not to wake Falia.

“Widespread rebellion would be handy,” Gideon said, “but I doubt it’ll happen.”

“Because it hasn’t happened yet?” she whispered. “In all these years of suffering?”

“And also because this whole plane is steeped in dark magic.”

“Including our hostess?” Chandra guessed.

“That blood ritual? Yes.” Lying entwined with him like this, she could feel him shake his head slightly. “They won’t unite. The different groups here won’t help anyone but themselves. And however tormented the situation may be, it’s got a sort of consistency and balance that they’re used to by now.”

“You’d think the food alone would be cause enough to rebel.
Grub soup?”

She felt his soft puff of laughter against her cheek in the dark.

“If they
would
rebel,” Gideon said after a moment, “then the flow of blood to Velrav and his companions might be reduced. Even cut off.”

“So that’s our plan?” she said doubtfully. “Lead an uprising?”

“No. It would take too long. Years, if it worked at all. Which it probably wouldn’t.” He added, “Besides, it might also take a while for Velrav to feel the effects of going hungry and start weakening. We need a faster plan.”

“Yes. Faster is better.”

“I thought you’d think so.”

“But in our current condition,” she whispered, “how can we attack someone that powerful?”

Gideon sighed and shifted his position a little. “I don’t know.”

Instead of rolling away from him, she shifted her position, too, getting more comfortable in his arms. The feel of his body was comforting. The whisper of his breath along her cheek, his voice soft in her ear … For now, he was a
safe place to hide from her nightmares.

“You said blood drinkers are vulnerable to fire,” she whispered. “Maybe we should burn down the castle. The normal way, I mean. With torches and that sort of thing.”

“We’d have to go see the place to get an idea of what it would take to burn it down without magic. But stone walls added to a damp climate …”

The prospect wasn’t promising. Chandra tried to think of another plan. “Jurl captures people and delivers them to Velrav. Actually, he probably captures goblins, too. He’s obviously not sentimental about his own race.”

“You think Jurl may know more about Velrav than we’ve learned so far?” Gideon guessed.

“But whether what he says will make much sense …”

“Well, we can try in the morning.” He paused. “Or, uh, when it’s time to get up, I mean.”

The night was so still and silent, the villagers must all still be sleeping.

His hand brushed her hair as he whispered, “Try to get some more sleep.”

Chandra’s lids felt heavy, but she was afraid to go back to sleep. Afraid of what her dreams might hold. She’d rather stay here, with him. “I’m not sleepy,” she lied.

She was sure he heard the fatigue in her voice, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he stroked her hair in silence for a while.

Finally he said, “I’m wondering …”

“Hmm?” She didn’t move or open her eyes.

“Will you …” He hesitated and again, then said quietly, “What happened to your mother?”

Chandra drew in a sharp breath and went tense all over. She knew he felt it. The stroking hand on her hair became still.

“What?” Her voice was cold.

“You cried out for her. In your dream—your nightmare. It seemed like … What happened to her?”

She sat up, tearing herself out of his embrace. When she felt his hand on her arm, she flung it off.

He sat up, too, but he didn’t try to touch her again. “Chandra …”

She started to speak, then changed her mind. Anything she might say now would reveal too much—even if only how forbidden the subject was.

“I apologize.” His voice was calm. Trying to make
her
calm. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

Chandra inhaled deeply.
In, two, three
. Then exhaled.
Out, two, three
.

She could feel him peering at her, and was glad the darkness hid her face, as it hid his.

When she thought she had control of her voice—of her words, and thoughts—she said, “You’re right, we should get some more sleep. I’m still tired.”

There was a pause. “Of course.”

His voice had that impassive tone he often used.

Chandra lay down on her bedroll with her back to him. She felt him move away from her, returning to his own bedroll, where he should have stayed in the first place.

She lay awake for a long time in the dark, with her eyes wide open, forbidding herself to think about anything.
Anything
.

Although she didn’t expect it to happen, Chandra drifted off eventually, and she slept soundly. When she awoke, Gideon had already risen and gone back out into the night. Falia said some of the men had taken him to speak to someone who could tell him more about the Fog Riders that they had seen earlier.

“The rest of the villagers are all doing their work.” Falia said to her, “There is no one to guide you to where he is. You must remain here.”

The girl’s manner toward her now was noticeably cool. It was all too easy to guess why, given where Gideon had chosen to place his bedroll when they all went to sleep. Chandra might have told Falia that she had no interest in Gideon, let alone in competing for his affections. But that seemed like too absurd a conversation to have with someone who looked so young.

Not wanting to stay on Diraden—or in Gideon’s company—one moment longer than she had to, Chandra decided to tackle a task that she and Gideon had talked about: questioning Jurl. So she went into the livestock hut to see him.

The cage was empty. The goblin was gone.

Chandra turned around, intending to go alert the villagers. She found Falia in the doorway behind her. The girl had followed her here.

“He’s escaped!” Chandra said.

“No,” Falia said.

“Then were is he?”

“Being skinned and roasted.”

“What?”

“Goblins make good eating.” Falia gave Chandra’s horrified reaction a look of cool amusement.

“You’ve
killed
him?”

“We’ve butchered him.”

“You’re going to
eat
him?” Chandra couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Of course.”

“Oh, no.” Chandra covered her face with her hands, swamped with guilt. “No wonder he was so angry at me! He
knew
you might do this! And Gideon and I locked him
in here! We made him helpless!”

“He was a
goblin.”
The girl’s voice was contemptuous.

“But he was my …”

Actually, friend would be wildly inaccurate. Jurl had tried to kill her and Gideon; and they had taken him prisoner and brutalized him when he resisted their questions or orders.

Such behavior, on either side, wasn’t exactly the basis of friendship.

Chandra knew full well the goblin was treacherous, amoral, and vicious. She had no doubt that, given a chance, he’d have fed her to Velrav without the slightest hesitation or pang of regret. She had also known that a situation might arise where she or Gideon would have to kill Jurl.

But she had never intended to turn him into a helpless, caged victim that the villagers could skin and skewer at their leisure.

But that was exactly what she had done.

Chandra stared at the smirking girl in the doorway. “How can you eat someone you’ve
talked
to? Someone you’ve given food to?”

“I fed him because his skin looked a little too loose when you got here. A well-fed goblin is juicier.”

Chandra was aghast that she had slept in the same small hut with this revolting, sneering, deceitful child! “I think I’m going to be sick.”

She was so angry she felt dizzy. She also thought she felt a sudden headache coming on. There was a pounding in her ears, a harsh, uneven drumming that echoed around her …

Chandra frowned, realizing the sound wasn’t inside her head. And it was, she realized with a creeping chill, familiar.

“If you plan to vomit, get it over with.” The girl’s voice was hard. Her eyes were narrow and her lips tight with loathing. “The riders are coming for you.”