Storm Rising

tension in favor of his own anger.

Rage seethed unchecked inside him. Karal! That's who's to blame for this! By the gods, I should do something about him, the interfering fool boy! The Alliance doesn't need him anymore, not with Solaris coming here. An'desha certainly doesn't need his brand of advice! Karal was the cause of all his problems—Karal was dangerous! He was meddling in things he couldn't even begin to understand, and he was encouraging An'desha to do the same. How long before he coaxed An'desha to try something more dangerous than just tapping into Heartstone power? How long before he encouraged An'desha to try to change it? Wasn't that how the k'Sheyna Heartstone had gone rogue in the first place? Pure primal rage colored everything scarlet, and his pulse sounded in his cars like the beat of a drummer gone mad. I ought to get rid of him—I have to get rid of him, before he ruins everything!

A high-pitched sound of ripping punctuated his murderous thoughts, and a decorative drape tore away from the wall. It shimmered with the side effects of the power he was projecting, falling slowly into progressively smaller shreds.

I should be doing that to Karal, that indolent, wet-eared whelp in diapers....

Firesong ground his teeth, letting the anger grow into a fury, not even concerned about the damage it was doing to his ekele. Let it happen! It didn't matter. The sound of splitting wood was reassuring—that was what breaking bones sounded like, and right now, wishing bodily mayhem on everyone who hadn't appreciated him enough felt very good.

The wooden legs of the serving table split lengthwise, in halves and thirds, twisting the surface this way and that before finally pitching sideways in collapse. The mugs and plates that slid off shattered before reaching the floor.

It is far and away past time I woke up!

At that moment, Aya gave an ear-shattering shriek of absolute terror, and a corner of the ekele burst into flame.

Firesong whirled, howling with anger at Aya's idiocy. The firebird leaped from his perch and fled into the corner to cower in fear under the last almost-intact table. Firesong snarled, deep in his throat, and willed the flames to go out—go out now! The fire only surged brighter when he directed his rage-edged power toward it. It engulfed the tattered wall hangings in a bright yellow sheet, producing an even thicker gout of smoke. He attempted to fling a blanket on the flames to smother them, and succeeded only in burning both his hands in the process. The pain only made his anger worse. He couldn't even think clearly.

Finally he clenched his burned fists and screamed at the fire.

'I said stop!'

The smoke belching out from the fire froze, and then receded back into the fire, flattening against it, smothering it, leaving the walls coated in the black of charred tinder. Finally, all that was left was a sweat-soaked, shaking Firesong, splinters of destroyed furniture, the haze of smoke, and a terror-filled firebird.

Firesong took a deep breath through his tight jaw, and his gaze darted around until he found Aya. He opened his scorched fists and lunged at Aya. The firebird fled.

He chased Aya around the room as the firebird hid under broken furniture, screaming in fear of Firesong. 'You damned bird!' Firesong shrieked. 'You miserable bird! How dare you!' His words degenerated into incoherent growls. Still shouting with anger that had built beyond his ability to control it, he cornered the firebird and prepared to strike Aya where he cowered, every feather shivering.

'Don't!'

The shout from the stairs made him pause—and that moment was all it took for Elspeth and Darkwind to bracket him.

'Firesong, that is your bondbird,' the Tayledras scout said angrily. 'Your. Bond. Bird. Are you out of your mind? Don't you realize that you are to blame? All he did was reflect what was wrong with you!'

'Get out!' Firesong spat. 'This is my home and my bird, and I'll—'

'This isn't a home, it's a funeral pyre, Firesong. Strike Aya down, and you'll follow him,' Darkwind warned, tapping a rhythm pattern with one foot that Elspeth quickly picked up—a pattern Firesong recognized vaguely from the containment spell they had all worked to confine the power of the rogue Heartstone of k'Sheyna. 'I'm not bluffing, Firesong We can counter anything you can throw at us, and we'll drive it right back into your teeth. It won't be pretty.'

For another long moment, he stood there with his hand upraised, like an executioner ready to drop the ax, staring into Darkwind's implacable eyes. Those blue eyes bored into his coldly, promising that the words were not a bluff. His friends were prepared to cut him down.