Zin’s body had vaporized in the flame. The followers of Zin did not believe this explanation, but they never found his body, for as long as they searched the caverns. They were eventually mollified when Heliud named their settlement in Zin’s honor. They hold Zin sacred still, saying that his opposition was divinely inspired to test the truth of Heliud’s leadership.”
He paused, seemingly unwilling to finish the tale, but finally added, “Walbert is the successor to this legacy and the custodian of the Purifying Fire.”
“Well, doesn’t that just figure,” said Chandra in disgust. “The members of the Order have forbidden fire magic to everyone in their land while drawing their own power from fire? Or from something that’s just barely similar to fire?”
A flame that was cold and white didn’t sound much like fire to her. It sounded as rigid and deadly dull as she imagined the members of the Order were.
Chandra was passionate about the heat and fury of fire magic. She loved the gold, orange, yellow of explosions, the blood-red blazes of pyromancy. What was the point of something cold, white, and hidden underground? Surely there was no beauty in that. No glory, or passion, or thrill.
“The Order has forbidden fire magic in their lands,” Samir agreed, “and now they want to restrict our way of life in the Western Wood, too. Certain practices are still allowed, Walbert told me, because he says the laws issued by the Order are not, in his judgment, unreasonable. But now other supposedly-dangerous practices such as summoning are forbidden to us.” Samir’s normally gentle expression grew thunderously angry. “And the ghost wardens are the Order’s means of spying on us in our own land!”
“They have no right,” Chandra said. “None!” Samir rarely raised his voice, but he did so now.
“But at least a ghost warden doesn’t sound like it can be a very good spy,” Chandra said with a frown. “I mean, I’d sure notice it sneaking up on me, if it looks like what Brannon described.”
“Me too!” said Brannon.
“Actually, it’s more effective than you suppose,” Samir said. “It’s completely silent, after all. No feet or hands. We have many unusual things in the forest-”
“No argument there,” said Chandra.
“-but we’re not used to entities without any limbs. Well, apart from snakes, but you get my meaning.”
“I don’t like snakes,” Chandra said frankly.
The shadowy forest felt claustrophobic to Chandra, who was much more used to the scenic vistas of mountain living. The woods were teeming with life, much of it strange and unnerving: carnivorous flowers whose sweet scent lured the unsuspecting, poisonous insects that posed as plants, ill-tempered beasts that resembled moss-covered rocks, and monsters that looked like trees, among many others. Dirt, noise, fungus. None of it appealed to Chandra, but it did offer time away from the other Keralians, who could become quite boring in their devotion.
Even so, sitting on the dry ground outside Samir’s leafy hut, and politely pretending to drink some insipid beverage flavored with mashed plant roots, Chandra felt eager to return to the monastery and tell Mother Luti what she had learned today. If creatures of the Order were roaming the woods now, how much longer would it be before the Order tried to intrude onto Mount Keralia?
“Hardly anything moves through the forest without making a sound,” Samir said. “But these creatures do. Lately, numerous woodlanders have been surprised to notice a ghost warden watching them without having any idea how long it had been there.”
“That would be creepy,” said Brannon.
“For example,” Samir said calmly, “ever since you arrived and we sat down here together, I haven’t glanced at those bushes to our left until just a moment ago.” Now he turned his head and stared hard at the lush shrubbery. “So I don’t know how long that ghost warden has been listening to our conversation.”
Brannon gasped. Chandra jumped as if she had been bitten, leaping to her feet in the same motion as she whirled to face the bushes Samir was looking at.
She saw a white creature there, as as motionless as a rock. It didn’t breathe. Its pale eyes didn’t blink. It didn’t even react to Chandra’s sudden movement, nor to Brannon pointing at it and crying out. And its long white hair remained still, despite the breeze that made the leaves rustle gently on the bush obscuring it from Chandra’s view.
She circled around the clearing, moving to get a better view of the creature. From her new position, Chandra saw that, exactly as Brannon had described, it had no hands or feet, although four appendages were attached to its torso in a disturbing suggestion of arms and legs that trailed off into whirls of glittering white dust where toes and fingers should have existed.
“How does it work?” Chandra asked Samir.
The ghost warden turned its head toward her when she spoke. Somehow, the movement was even more disturbing than the creature’s stillness had been. Its motion was fluid and refined, like the passage of time.
“Work?” Samir, too, had risen to his feet. Now he pushed Brannon behind his body, shielding the boy from the creature.
“Can its master see through its eyes and hear through its ears?” Chandra asked, still staring at the ghost warden. “Does its creator see and hear us right now? Or does this thing have to return to its master to convey what it has witnessed?”
“I’m not sure,” Samir said. “But, as I said, they are said to trigger an alert to patrols.”
“I don’t think they can do that,” Chandra said decisively. “We should kill it to test the theory.”
Now the creature displayed an almost eerily human reaction. It shrank away from her in recognition of the threat she posed.
“Chandra…” Samir said uneasily. “That might be unwise at this juncture.”
But the very thought of a fight elevated Chandra’s heartbeat. As her pulse quickened, so did the fire inside her. She could feel it bloom in the base of her skull as her hair became a mane of flame, and moved down her spine and out to her hands, lighting like torches.
“Be careful,” Samir warned. “It has been unseasonably dry this year.”
The ghost warden pointed a wispy limb toward Chandra, and a bolt of white light shot forth from the floating, shiny particles in its fingerless tendrils.
“Ouch!” Chandra staggered backward as it hit her in the stomach. The blow was enough to quench the fire that burned around her.
She doubled over, trying to catch her breath, and heard Brannon shouting her name. A moment later, she felt a hand on her back and heard Samir asking if she was all right.
“I’m fine,” she croaked. “I feel like I’ve been… stung by the biggest wasp that ever lived, but I’m fine. Never mind me! Get that thing!”
“It’s gone!” Brannon cried.
“Gone?” Chandra raised her head and looked toward the bushes. There was nothing there now but greenery. “Damn!”
“I see it!” Samir, whose eyes were far more accustomed than theirs to the shadowy forest, had spotted the creature as it fled through the trees. He pointed. “Over there!”
“Let’s go!” Clutching her throbbing stomach, Chandra ran in the direction that Samir had indicated.
“Can we kill it?” he shouted, running after her.
“Let’s find out!” she shouted back. Ghost or no ghost, Chandra thought she should be able to turn anything into a pile of ashes if she got it hot enough.
“This way!” Samir shouted behind her, veering off to the right and disappearing into the greenery.
Chandra turned to follow him. There was a broad thicket of bushes in her way, but it didn’t look very thick. Rather than waste time going around it, she forced her way through it. This proved to be a mistake. The clinging shrubs and their thorns clutched at her clothes and scratched her skin. Within moments, she found she was stuck, unable to move forward. The harder she tried to free herself, the more entangled she became.
“I see it!” Samir cried, his voice significantly farther away now. “Come on!”
“I’m… coming!” Chandra winced as she struggled to free herself.
She was panting, she was in pain, she was falling behind, and, worst of all, she was trapped by a damn bush. Exasperated, her temper flared as a burning heat rushed through her body, erupting in an aura of flame that set the thicket alight and turned the offending bush into a charred remnant.
