Temple of Fyre (Island of Fyre) (18 page)

“Why?”

“If we can merge our flames, Malera can’t harm us.” Though she had never merged with a scarlet, Malera had. For a short time during the confrontation, Ria had been aware of the chief priestess’ presence.

Ria drew a deep breath. She brought her flame closer to the ones Ari had called. For a flicker, she succeeded. She brushed the surface of Ari’s thoughts. Her flame wavered. Ria withdrew. She yawned. “The day has been long and successful. We have much to do tomorrow.” She walked to the tent.

The next morning after a hearty breakfast, she and Ari walked to the cavern. Ari carried a bundle of torches. At the entrance, he lit one and left the others behind the rock they hadn’t moved. In the light cast by the torches, spots on the floor gleamed. Small circles of light appeared on the double row of granite columns and the cavern’s dome. Ria gasped. Heaps of fyrestones were scattered across the floor. She saw chains and cages in copper, silver, and gold. Just beyond one of the columns, she saw a stack of cylinders.

“Fyrestones, necklaces and scrolls,” she said. “With such treasure here, the temple must be close.” She bent and figured cloth remnants. “They must have been in flight.”

“Or hiding these things,” Ari said.

Ria’s glance darted from the crystals to the cylinders. They couldn’t leave all this here. She started to the entrance.

“Where are you going?” Ari asked.

“For Bera and her panniers. I want to load the scrolls.”

Ari crouched beside one of the heaps of fyrestones. “I’ve found a blue, but ‘tis flawed.”

“Let me see.” She studied the stone he held. “The scroll I read told the truth.”

“At least in part.” He lifted a handful of crystals and held them beneath the torch. “How odd. Some are flawed, some cinders, and some perfect. We’ll need to sort them. And the chains. Wonder why there are more than just the copper ones?”

“There must be a reason for there being more than one kind.” She halted at the mouth of the cave. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Bring some empty sacks. I’ll gather fyrestones. Even if four in five are flawed or dead, we’ve a fortune.”

Only if you sell them to the temple, she thought. What they had was a way to change the life of the commoners. Could she convince Ari to help her find students she could teach until there were enough men and women for a circle in every hamlet? This glen was the perfect place to remain hidden during the months she needed to train people. With eleven circles confronting Malera at the same time, a victory without a great loss of life was possible.

A short time later, she returned with Bera. She handed Ari two canvas sacks. Carefully, she led the burro around the pillars to where the cylinders lay. She loaded the scroll containers into the panniers. By the time she finished, she’d counted fifty-six scrolls.

What secrets were contained in the scrolls? Though her curiosity raged, she feared opening them. The scrolls were old and most likely fragile. The scriptorium in Rosti would be the place to discover what the ancient scribes had written.

After leading Bera back to the camp and storing the scrolls in a rock-lined hollow near the camp, she returned to the cavern. She lit a second torch and studied the pattern of the fyrestones on the cave’s dome. A map, she thought. ‘Twas like the one on the scroll that had fallen into the fire. She saw three glowing lines and followed them to the rear wall. When she reached the wall, she saw three openings into tunnels. What lay at the end of the passages?

* * *

Ari tied the mouth of a filled sack and opened another. There were more crystals that he could ever count. Had the ones on the columns and the dome been set by some ancient men and women? Had the cavern been a mine? He saw Ria standing at the rear wall. “What did you find back there?”

“Three tunnels.”

“Leave them for another day.”

“Aren’t you curious?”

“Not really.”

“Look up at the dome. ‘Tis a map. Maybe the tunnels lead to the lands across the mountains or even to the temple.” She lowered her torch and peered into the right hand tunnel, then stepped inside.

“Be careful,” Ari said.

A short time later, she returned. “’Tis blocked by rubble.”

Their torches sputtered and died. Only the glow of the fyrestones kept them from floundering in the dark. Ari hoisted the full sack. “Bring the other. We can return to camp and see what we’ve found.” Ria lifted the partially filled sack and stuffed some of the chains inside. “Don’t you wonder if the other tunnels are blocked and what happened here?”

“A bit of curiosity, but we can wait to explore until tomorrow.” As he reached the mouth of the cave, a glint caught his eye. He pried a blue crystal larger than his thumbnail from the packed earth. In the sunlight, the fyrestone appeared flawless. He tucked it in his pocket.

The midday meal consisted of meat left from the previous night, greens, and citrons. He brought his blanket roll from the tent and spread it on the ground. From one of the sacks of fyrestones, he pulled the chains Ria had stuffed inside. He selected a copper one. With care, he fitted the scarlet stone Ria had given him into the cage. He slipped the necklace around his neck and sighed with contentment. The weight felt right.

Ria sat beside him. “Why the copper, and not the gold or silver?”

“’Tis what I’ve always worn.”

Ria lifted a gold chain and selected a scarlet from the heap of stones. She fitted the crystal into the cage. A pop sounded. She dropped the chain and put her fingers in her mouth. “Burns.”

“Look at the stone.”

Ria’s eyes widened and she stared at the shattered fyrestone. She shook the shards from the cage. “I wonder which crystal belongs in the gold?”

“Try yellow.”

“Why?”

“The yellow is the lowest of the major stones and gold is the highest of the metals. Since the scarlet broke in the gold and remained whole in the copper, the idea makes sense.”

She fitted a yellow into the gold chain. When nothing happened, Ari put an orange in the silver. Though he had no idea what affect the metal had on the crystals, there must be a reason. Perhaps the answer was in the scrolls Ria had collected? He set the chain aside and began sorting the stones.

Ria lifted several. “This one is flawed. These are cinders. What happened to them?”

Ari placed several unflawed yellow fyrestones in a small pouch. “Why don’t you open the scrolls and search for the answer?”

“They’re old. For more than a hundred years, there’s been a temple in Rosti. These scrolls are older and I fear I might destroy them.” She sighed. “They belong in the scriptorium.”

He nodded. He might be able to use the scrolls as a way to persuade her to return to the hamlet and the temple. He reached for more crystals.

By late afternoon, they had nine pouches filled with flawless stones. Ari stretched and went to check the snares. How could he convince Ria to take the fyrestones and scrolls to Rosti? Though the chief priestess might wish to harm Ria, surely Malera’s greed would keep her from using the flames.

He carried a pair of lopears to camp. Ria raked coals over tubers and other root vegetables. She sliced plantains to cook in oil along with the skinned meat.

“Tomorrow, we can explore the other passages,” she said.

“I’d rather gather more stones.”

“Why? We have more than enough for eleven circles.”

Ari shrugged. “Why leave the stones here?”

Ria placed greens in bowls and started cooking the pieces of lopear. “We can discuss this later.”

When they finished the meal, Ria went to the stream to bathe and wash their clothes. Ari waited until she returned. When he finished bathing, he strode to the fire ready for the discussion. Ria was in the tent. He entered, knelt and kissed her lightly. When she responded with heat, he pulled her into a close embrace. With quick movements, they undressed. As his body responded to hers, a thought flashed. The blue fyrestone. He hadn’t shown it to her. He rolled away and searched the pocket of his breeches.

“Ari, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I forgot to show you this.” He held up the blue crystal. “The stone is unflawed.”

“And no myth.”

He kissed her. Their hands clasped, trapping the stone between them. A jolt shocked him. His mouth covered hers, or had his been seized in a brutal fashion? Teeth ground against lips. The odor of sweat, sour and pungent, made him want to gag.

Ari tried to pull away. He didn’t want to see/feel the emotions storming through Ria’s thoughts. Except this was a way to know her. Fear replaced curiosity. Her body stiffened to repulse the man whose fingers dug into her shoulders.

Before Ari could escape, he was plunged into an eddy of relief, and then spun into another scene of terror. The dark and deep-set eyes of a slaver assessed her. He felt the weight of the chains on her wrists. She stumbled behind the slavers and was thrown into a cart with a score of frightened men, women, and children.

The memory vanished. Another appeared. He was with Ria when she faced Malera in the circle. The vitriolic anger of the chief priestess swept through him/her. Control slipped, and then held. A voice called her a traitor.

She walked through the rotunda and heard the footsteps of those who followed. Outside, he/she burst into a run. Blows hit her body. She fell. The stones of the lane tore her knees. The dark carrion crows pecked at her feet and drove them into the fyrethorn hedge. Her screams broke the silence.

Ari opened his eyes. Ria had vanished. The blue fyrestone lay on the blanket. He pulled on his breeches and slipped the blue crystal into his pocket. Ria was huddled beside the fire. He couldn’t go to her. He didn’t think she wanted him to touch her any more than he wanted to be touched by her. He needed time to think, and time to understand the things he’d seen and experienced. Her body and her heart were his. Could he accept the anger and need for vengeance he’d seen in her mind?

* * *

“No.” The cry burst from Ria. She tried to fight the memories that thrust into her thoughts. She ran. “Papa.” Why had he left his son in this place of shadows and big trees? Where were the younger children? What had he done wrong?

Again, she cried out. These memories weren’t hers, yet she was unable to escape them. She sank to the ground. What if she couldn’t find herself?

Her hands pressed against a scarlet crystal wrapped in metal. The memories flooded her with terror and impotency. They flashed and shifted. She couldn’t stop them.

She was the child who woke alone beneath a tree as the first light of dawn paled the dark sky. She ran to the edge of the trees and saw the evil creatures and the distant figure of a man on a courser racing away, leaving him alone. While tears fell in a fountain, she sank to the ground. Alone. Abandoned. Unloved.

With a suddenness, pain stormed Ria. Once again, she was in Gydon, but this time, the hamlet had no flame-scarred buildings. She hovered above a circle of priestesses. No, some were men. Flames shot from their stones. Then in the flames, she saw another circle send spears of fire toward the Gydon group.

A wail rose from the throat of the child whose thoughts were his and hers. Two circles fought with swords of yellow, orange, and scarlet. First one, then the other gained ascendancy. The fear within the child peaked into a scream when the members of the Gydon circle blazed. The cries of those bonded to the stone she/he wore flowed into the child. All fear, all memories and all knowledge of what had happened broke through the vault in the mind of the child whose life she shared.

Ria tried to brush away the web strands of what she’d seen and experienced in the sharing of minds. She rubbed her arms with her hands. If this was a taste of bonding mind to mind, she wanted no more of that kind of connection.

She looked around to anchor herself in the present. Ari emerged from the tent. His gaze slid past her. His unsteady gait made him appear as threatened as she felt. Which of her experiences had he lived? He walked away and disappeared into the shadows cast by the trees of the orchard.

The dictates of the scroll rose in her thoughts. To control the fire of a blue crystal, the pair had to be thrice bonded. The physical bonding had been done with ease and had brought great pleasure. The bonding of the heart had been harder. Her reluctance to give and accept had nearly caused a disaster. How could the third bond be made when she had no desire to experience/share other events with Ari? Did she have enough courage to risk another attempt? She stumbled to the tent and prayed sleep would unravel the snarls in her thoughts.

In the morning when she woke, she left the tent. Sleep hadn’t made her more willing to speak to Ari. He lay on the far side of the fire circle. When he didn’t stir, some of her tension ebbed. She added wood to the fire and filled a pan with water for tea.

The sun rose above the horizon. Ari stirred and she tensed. Could she face him? She wasn’t ready to speak of the past night’s events, or her reaction to what she’d experienced. She gathered her clothes and hurried to the stream to bathe and dress. When she returned to the fire, Ari rose. He avoided her gaze and walked away.