Sovereign

The shape inside the furnace and the flames around it started to merge, not back into the fire but into something new altogether. Jenrosa could see buildings now, and the flickering silhouettes of people fleeing, burning, tumbling in the dirt. She tried to look away, caught a glimpse of the blacksmith hauling out his iron and hammering it, sparks waterfalling in the air, and then found her gaze following the iron as it re-entered the furnace, saw again the terrible scene of carnage and destruction. She tried to bring the chant back to Lasthear's original song, but it resisted her. She felt as though she was pushing herself into a windstorm, and the air smelled of burning flesh. The fire got brighter and brighter and the vision was swept away, replaced with a face made up of the whitest, hottest flames, the face of Lynan peering out at hers.

She screamed, reeled back and out of the smithy. She heard a terrible oath, a hammer falling, Lasthear calling to her, and then she was out in the cool air, still screaming and falling to the ground. Rough hands caught her, let her down gently. There were more cries. Water hissing and steaming. Lasthear's voice, attenuated, whispery, in her ear.

She opened her eyes. The blacksmith hovered over her, looking frightened and angry. His son cowered behind him. The smithy was filled with smoke. Lasthear put an arm under her back and helped her to her feet.

'The pan's right ruined, Madam Magiker, and that was my most expensive piece of iron.'

'I'll replace the iron,' Lasthear said to him over her shoulder, 'and make sure the pan is done right next time.'

'I don't know what your friend did, but it sure as hell made things hot in there. I think even the furnace might be cracked.'

'My clan will pay for a new furnace, Blacksmith. A better one.'

The man nodded dumbly, not having anything more to say, and shepherded his son away.

'What happened?' Lasthear asked Jenrosa.

'You don't know?'

Lasthear breathed deeply. 'How could I know? What you are capable of is so far beyond my experience…'

'Don't say that. Don't ever say that.'

'Can you stand by yourself?'

'I think so.' Jenrosa took all her weight on her feet; she felt dizzy but did not reach out for Lasthear. 'I'm sorry for what I did to the blacksmith. Was anyone hurt?'

'No. I remember feeling a change in the song, something deeper and more powerful than anything I'd ever experienced before, then you stumbled backwards out of the smithy. At the same time the heat became too much for all of us. I heard a crack, saw the blacksmith throw something in the tub of water and get out with his son.'

People were starting to mill around, and the blacksmith was babbling something to them and pointing at the two magikers.

'Let's get away,' Lasthear said. 'We need to talk about this.'

Slowly at first, but with quickened pace as Jenrosa regained her senses, they made their way back to the palace and Jenrosa's room, getting a ewer of cold water and two mugs from the kitchen on the way.

Lasthear poured the water, and as she passed the mug to Jenrosa asked, 'Can you tell me what you saw in the furnace?'

'How do you know I saw anything?'

'When the song changed I watched you very carefully. I know you saw something in there.'

'I saw a village or town burning, and people on fire, And then I smelled it all burning.'

'No wonder you pulled away,' Lasthear said.

Jenrosa nodded and did not mention seeing Lynan's face at the end. It was that, not the horror of what she had seen before, that frightened her so much she was able to end the chant.

Lasthear looked down into her own mug as if searching for some private vision. 'You have a destiny, Jenrosa Alucar, whether you like it or not.'

'Enough,' Jenrosa said angrily.

'No, it is not enough. You keep on hiding from it, but all you do is hurt yourself more by denying what you are capable of. You keep on stumbling on aspects of your power that are waking now you have been taught how to use magik properly. You cannot avoid what you are. You cannot avoid whatever destiny is laid before you.'

'There is no such thing as destiny. We make our own choices, decide our own future.'

'Undeniably,' Lasthear agreed, and Jenrosa looked up surprised. 'You make the mistake of assuming destiny is set down as law, that destiny demands only one path.'

'Doesn't it? Isn't that what destiny means?'

'Your destiny is where you arrive. How you get there is entirely up to you.'

Jenrosa laughed bitterly. 'So it is set down as law? There is no change to the ending, only the road I take to get there.'

'Which ending? The ending you saw in the river at Kolby? Or in the fire in our camp during the siege? Can you be sure they are endings, Jenrosa, or merely crossroads on your way there?'

Jenrosa looked up at Lasthear, desperation in her eyes. 'I see blood. All the blood of the world. That is all.'

Lasthear paled. 'I thought it might be something like that.'

'What does it mean?'

'Death.'

'Of course it means death,' Jenrosa spat, unable to control her fear and anger any more.

'A close death,' Lasthear continued.

Jenrosa shuddered involuntarily. 'I know. I'm sorry.'

Lasthear's eyes widened with understanding. 'And you know whose, don't you?'

Jenrosa nodded savagely. 'Yes. I've known since Kolby. And every time I get a vision it is the same. I know whose death it is.' She closed her eyes in pain and grief. 'And I know I will be the cause of it.'

The very woods that protected their hideaway from easy detection also allowed the enemy to get within arrow shot without being seen. The first sign of anything awry was the scream of a sentry followed by the whistling of several hundred arrows falling among the boulders and trees. Charion and Galen sprung from their cave near the summit of the hill, swords in hand, looking every which way to determine the main axis of the attack, Arrows clattered on the ground nearby. More screams, Soldiers scrabbling for gear, sliding for cover.

'How did they find us?' Galen cried.

Charion did not answer. It was suddenly very quiet, There were no more flights of arrows, no more cries of the dying. Even the wounded seemed to be holding on to their breath.

'What is happening?' Galen asked.

Charion waved him silent. She could hear movement coming from the south side of the hill, from where the river ran closest to the hill. She started moving down the slope, but Galen grabbed her arm. 'Don't be a fool.'

Charion twisted out of his grip and glared at him, but she moved no further.

'Get down, your Majesty!' cried a nearby soldier.

'I agree,' Galen said, and squatted behind a low bush, pulling the reluctant Charion down beside him.

'That's twice you've grabbed at my royal person this morning,' she hissed at him.

He looked at her amazed. She had not reacted like that when they first woke this morning. 'What about—?'

'There's a difference,' she said coolly, and turned her attention down-slope again. She could see nothing among the vegetation and rocks, but she knew from the sound that there were a lot of enemy troops coming their way. Another flight of arrows ricocheted off rocks, slapped into leaves and tree trunks, into hands and faces.

'We're in trouble,' she said bitterly. 'We didn't have enough warning to prepare any proper defence. Our people are scattered all over this hill.'

'Do you think we're surrounded?'

'They'd need five thousand to encircle this place completely, and we'd have seen that many coming.'

'Then we can retreat.'

'We can, we have horses. Our recruits can get off the hill, but once on flat ground they'll be pursued and cut down by the Chetts.'

'They could surrender.'

'Would you accept a surrender after having one of your columns slaughtered?'

Galen breathed out heavily. 'No. But the recruits have a better chance than you say. They can get away in the woods—the Chetts have to go on foot there too—and our people are locals.'

Charion shook her head. 'I don't know…'