Fireborn Champion (39 page)

“It makes perfect sense if you think about it.”

So she did think about it, and they walked in silence. Iron angled to the cavern wall and ran his hand along it, feeling the smooth stone kiss his fingertips. The granite rippled like the surface of the lake beside it. Maybe caves like this existed in other unexplored places, brimming with bones and shrines and forgotten histories. Places like this must exist. He suspected they waited in Ker, and behind the Everfrosts, or in the wilds beyond the eastern kingdoms of Blail and Hine. Maybe whole new continents wait beyond the Churning Ocean for the ship that could withstand its violent waters.

 
Ayska pulled one of Batbayar’s exploding gourds from her vest. She tossed it, caught it, and stared at the object with a deep frown.
 

Iron’s heart nearly stopped. He snatched the gourd and stepped away. “Why do you have this? If this exploded in here, it would bury all of us.”

“I happened to ask Batbayar for it. If Caspran does show up again, it might be the only way to slow him down. Give it back.” She wagged her hand at him, palm open. “He’ll give you one too if you ask. We all should have at least one just in case.”
 

Or she’s planning on using it on the others while Caspran captures me for the king,
he thought.

No, it wasn’t possible Ayska could be so evil. Still…

He tossed the gourd to her and plastered on a smile. After she caught it, he kept his hand resting on Fang’s grip. “At least you’re prepared if he does.”

“I like to prepare for any situation. You know that.”

“I do.”

Dammit, just tell her. Are you such a coward, you’d put the others in danger? Do you have to wait until you watch Caspran kill these friends, too? You have proof enough. Out with it!

“Ayska, why’d you come talk to me at the tavern in Ormhild?”

Her stride dwindled to a standstill, and they both turned to one another. “I already told you. I picked up on your awful Rabwian. From there it was just…fate.”

“You and I both know it wasn’t just fate.”

Her jaw flexed, and she cocked her head. “Iron what are you—” Her eyes hardened. Then, they burned. “Are you suggesting I’m the one who’s betrayed us? Our encounter
was
chance. I was the first gods damned champion of your stupid broken circle to be found! And…and my friends. You seriously think I had them killed?”

“No, don’t start that. Don’t use them.”

“
Use them?
” Her fist flashed into his vision and slammed against his jaw.
 

Iron spun into the wall with a grunt. It was cool and moist against his cheek—a welcome opposite against his burning chin. Ayska’s hands gripped his shoulders and jerked him from the wall. Her eyes glimmered like polished glass. “Screw you, Iron. After everything we’ve been through, you think I’m the one who’s let it happen? You think I really had Vigal and the others murdered?”

She had him in a steel grip, and he was merely Iron. She’d always been made of stronger stuff than him, but that didn’t stop Iron’s anger from grabbing hold of his tongue. “He’s been on us since the beginning, Ayska, and you’ve been here since it. You’re the only one. The only one!”

“I wasn’t the only one. The others were taken from me. Taken from me because of
you
. I stood by you, and here you are accusing me of betrayal when you’re the one who’s been keeping secrets.” Her tears came freely now, drawing polished lines down her cheeks. “Telling you I loved you was the was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Telling you we couldn’t love each other killed what little good was left in me. But I did it to keep you safe. I did it to keep you safe, you bastard!”

“You have to see how this looks. And then you pull out that—that—explosive! Everything that has happened points to you betraying us, Ayska. It does.” He tightened his jaw, his nostrils swelling and heart sealing. “You know it does.”

She released him and backed away, shaking her head only slightly. “You’re right, it does.” She whipped her arms wide and shrugged. “So what’re you going to do about it? Why don’t you just kill me, Iron. Take your awful little sword and stick it through my chest. If I’m such a danger to you, then do it.”

He clenched and unclenched his fists. A long silence persisted between them. “I can’t kill you,” he said. “I won’t. The circle is broken.”

“And only blood and fire seals it,” she snapped, quoting the
Father’s Lament
. “You can have your blood if you want to take it. I thought by turning you away, I’d save you. Instead, I’ve turned you into me. We’ll never stop Sol together, will we? Never.”

“Just admit it, Ayska. Admit what you’ve done.”

“I’ve been such a fool. That’s the only thing I’ve got to admit to
you
.”

No more words passed from her lips. Her feet echoed through the cavern as she sprinted away.
 

Every sign, every fact, every observation pointed to her. Ayska had betrayed them. She wanted them dead and him captured. Iron stared at his palms. Long lines and rough callouses formed a map of the life he’d led trying to mend a broken circle of gods he despised.

Why did he hate the gods? They made a mistake, those young days of creation when they feared their brother and cast him out, using his power as a seed that blossomed into the first titans. In a way, they tried to heal him by creating something from him. Instead, they made a monster—no,
two
monsters—and sparked a war that spun in cycles like a wagon wheel upturned in a storm.
 

At the moment, Iron realized he’d done the same. Trying to make something better, he made everything worse, and the wheel spun ever faster.

Days passed in bitter monotony until at last, the storm settled. It didn’t end abruptly or announce its death to them. No, it ended with a whisper and a whoosh, stirring Iron from his slumber with little more than a low sigh. He blinked sleep from his eyes. A small fire smoldered nearby. Sigrid stood at the tunnel leading outside, staring into the darkness. Kalila stood beside her and rubbed her knuckles while she mumbled something only she could understand.

He rolled out of bed and tiptoed to them. When Sigrid noticed his arrival, she nodded. “The storm’s ended and the day has come. Fortuitous. Or disastrous. I cannot say which.”

She didn’t need to explain. They all knew what occurred today. “The alignment.”

“Indeed. The count doesn’t lie. This is the day the Six’s stars form a line across the sky.”

“The Burning Mother’s priest is out there. I know it. Whoever they are, we’ll find them today.”

Sigrid clasped her hands behind her, rocking on her heels. “Perhaps, but we have—” she cleared her throat and shot a glance at Kalila. “—We have another problem.”

Iron’s hopes diminished as a pit of dread opened in his stomach. “What is it now?”

“The Loyal Father’s disciple seems to have gone missing.”

“Ayska?” Iron’s heart fluttered as Kalila moaned. He twisted to the greyhorns mulling at the shoreline and counted the beasts. One was missing. “Shit. How long’s she been gone?”

“What’s wrong?” Sander asked. He hopped up from his bed and rolled his shoulders. Nephele and the others stirred with the sound of his voice.

“It is difficult to say. The storm ended while we slept so it could be minutes or hours. I fear the circumstances of her flight don’t bode well for us. You should not have confronted her without solid proof.”

“I was mad. I wasn’t thinking. Hells, I’ve been such an idiot—dumb as elk dung—and now everything might be falling apart.”

“What in the Sinner’s shadow are you talking about?” Sander asked. He rubbed his eyes and peered into the tunnel.

“Ayska has fled the mountain,” Sigrid said.

Sander groaned. “Well that’s not good. What could’ve made her storm off?”

Sigrid arched a brow at Iron. Sander’s eyes narrowed. “Iron, what did you do?”

Iron spun to the greyhorns. His mount watched him with a gaze that held little passion for much of anything besides grazing. “We’ve got to find her before the alignment.”

“The desert is a big place,” Sander said. “We can’t just split up and hope one of us finds her. We only stand a chance together.”
 

“I don’t think we need to split up.” Iron turned his attention to Kalila. “I think she’ll take us right to her.”

“Good thinking. That woman’s always got a read on her, that’s for sure.” Sander trotted toward the greyhorns, whistling sharply at Batbayar. “Wake up, you fat old Kerran. We’ve got a wayward priestess to find.

As Iron stared into the pinprick of daylight shining in the black, a chill crept up his spine. Today, the fate of Urum hung in the balance. No, it rested in his hands, and without Ayska beside him, the world didn’t have a chance.
 

The titan mountain slowly shrank against the horizon as Kalila led them into the Simmering Sands. The sandstorm laid once mighty dunes low, flattening an undulating sea of sand into a rippled sheet of loose cinnamon. Their greyhorns trotted behind Kalila’s, the beast making good time over the sands and happy to stretch its legs. The woman gripped the animal’s coat with whitened knuckles, leaning forward, eyes ever focused forward.

Iron trailed behind her. Why did these damned beasts travel so slowly? Horses could move much faster than the lumbering greyhorns, but even the lowest horse breeds demanded a princely sum and attracted the serpents’ eyes.
 

“She’ll be fine,” Sander said. “Ayska’s strong, probably stronger than the rest of us. We’ll find her and seal the circle before dawn. Trust the gods.”

Iron jumped at his master’s voice. The man angled his greyhorn beside Iron’s and flashed a warm smile. Wind had blown his grey-streaked hair in ragged tendrils from his brow. Dark circles ringed his eyes while deep lines etched the telltale signs of worry on his face.
 

“Thank you, master. I just—I’m anxious. I shouldn’t have said the things I did.”

“I can’t blame you, really. If it was me, I’d have done the same. Who else but Ayska could have betrayed us to the High King?”

Iron’s heart lurched into his throat, and he clenched the greyhorn’s fur. “So you know I accused her of being a spy?”

“We all thought it. Nephele and I discussed the possibility several times. Too many coincidences peppered our journey. The alp are powerful, but they’re not almighty.”

“It was wrong of me to blame her without proof.”

“Sometimes, we don’t have time to collect the evidence. Maybe it was wrong, maybe it wasn’t. Wronger still she was for running away once the storm faded.”

“None of us have been models of virtue.”

Silence settled over them, and for a few long minutes, only greyhorn snorts and hoof stomps broke the quiet. Iron bit his lip and turned to his master. “I wanted to tell you I’m sorry. You’ve done so much for me for so long, and I’ve repaid you with anger and bitterness. You raised me better than that.”

Sander blinked at the blazing sun already inching toward dusk and smacked his lips. “It’s not totally surprising. I’ve kept your birth, your family, a secret from you. It’s hard to know that the man who raised you also knows the truth but won’t tell you.”

“But you said lie to save a life.”

“Yes, I lie to save a life. Know that your master will do whatever it takes to save his apprentice.”

Iron took a deep breath. “And your apprentice will do whatever it takes to make his master proud. I love you…Father.”
 

Sander’s jaw flexed. He smiled, blinked and nodded at Iron. “And I love you too.” He sucked in a breath and wiped his face. “Damned sands always getting in my eyes.”
 

“Uh-huh. Sands indeed. I didn’t know my master had such a delicate heart! You soft old elk.”

“Elk?
Hah
! I think you’ll see I’ve still got a little of the snow leopard’s claws left.” Sander patted the greyhorn’s neck. “We’ll do this Iron. Somehow, we will.”

“Sealing the circle in a few hours seems like long shot. We’ve got no clue where the Mother’s priest could be.”

“Have faith. We’ll find this priest and put the fear of the Six into Sol.”
 

That was Sander, stuck to his faith like a tongue on frozen steel. Even if Iron failed, and even if they all died, at least he could die knowing he found the courage to tell the man his true feelings.
 

What little glimmer of hope that sparked within his heart faded when Kalila began weeping. Iron urged his greyhorn next to hers. The beast halted as she pointed to the horizon. Iron squinted and peered into the distance. Above the flat, blurred skyline, a dark cloud squirmed like an angry snake. Caspran’s flock awaited. So would Ayska. So would the alp, and, if Iron was right, the Mother’s champion.

“Come on, Kalila.” Iron kicked his greyhorn, and it lurched into a gallop. “Ayska, we’re coming!”

The greyhorn screeched, skidding to a halt in a flurry of hot sand. A setting sun bloodied the dome of blue. Screeches carried on the cooling wind slid their harsh cries beneath Iron’s skin. He grasped for the mount’s fur, but the bucking greyhorn kicked him to the sands before he could secure his hold.
 

Iron hit the desert with an
oomph.
One hoof slammed into the ground inches from his head. He rolled to the side as the other hoof smashed where he’d lain a moment before. The greyhorn cried and spun around, tearing away from the flock. Not even greyhorns could stand those maddened creatures wheeling in an enormous circle in the sky.

And what a circle they were. The ring they formed could easily crown an Everfrost peak and then some. Iron leapt to his feet, coughing sand, and raced for them. Behind him, the others jumped from their mounts and followed. Amidst the wild birdcalls, Sander screamed his name.
 

Unlike his other encounters with the birds, the flock didn’t come for him. They waited, wheeling in their wild ring, waiting for Iron. He pounded up a small dune—the only kind remaining after the sandstorm’s destruction—and skidded to a halt. He ripped Fang from the sheath, and its calming light washed across his arm.