body. A soul rose from the body, which I then inhaled. The soulless body stood and Flame Me pointed to another figure. Turning, the body stalked the new person and then strangled him.
Alarmed, I tried to stop the fire vision to no avail. I was forced to observe myself make more soulless people, who all went on a massive killing spree. An opposing army attacked. Fire swords flashed. Flames of blood splattered. I would have been impressed with the magician’s level of artistic detail if I hadn’t been horrified by the blazing carnage.
In time, my army was extinguished and I was caught in a net of fire. Flame Me was dragged, chained to a post and doused with oil.
I snapped back to my body. Standing next to the hearth, I still felt the web of magic around me. It contracted and tiny flames erupted on my clothes.
And spread.
I couldn’t stop the advance with my power. Cursing my lack of fire skill, I wondered why I didn’t possess this magical talent.
An answer echoed in my mind. Because we need a way to kill you.
I stumbled away from the blaze. Sweat poured down my back as the sound of sizzling blood vibrated in my ears. All moisture fled my mouth and my heart cooked in my chest. The hot air seared my throat. The smell of charred flesh filled my nose and my stomach heaved. Pain assaulted every inch of my skin.
No air to scream.
I rolled around the floor, trying to smother the fire.
I burned.
The magical attack stopped, releasing me from the torment. I dropped to the floor and breathed in the cool air.
“Yelena, what happened?” Irys touched an icy hand to my forehead. “Are you all right?”
My mentor and friend peered down at me. Concern lined her face and filled her emerald eyes.
“I’m fine.” My voice croaked, setting off a coughing fit. Irys helped me sit up.
“Look at your clothes. Did you set yourself on fire?”
Black soot streaked the fabric and burn holes peppered my sleeves and skirt/pants. Beyond repair, I would have to ask my cousin, Nutty, to sew me another set. I sighed. I should just order a hundred of the cotton tunics and skirt/pants from her to save time. Events, including magical attacks, conspired to keep my life interesting.
“A magician sent me a message through the fire,” I explained. Even though I knew Roze possessed the strongest magic in Sitia, and could bypass my mental defenses, I didn’t want to accuse her without proof.
Before Irys could question me further, I asked, “How did the Council session go?” I hadn’t been allowed to attend. Although the rainy weather wasn’t conducive for walking to the Council Hall, it still rankled.
The Council wanted me well-versed in all the issues they dealt with on a daily basis as part of my training to be a Liaison between them and the Territory of Ixia. My training as a Soulfinder, though, remained a subject the Council hadn’t agreed on. According to Irys’s theory, my reluctance to begin learning could be the cause of the Council’s indecision. I thought they worried I would follow the same path as the Soulfinder from long ago once I discovered the extent of my powers.
“The session…” Her lips twisted in a wry smile. “Good and bad. The Council has agreed to support your training.” She paused.
I steeled myself for the next bit of news.
“Roze was…upset about the decision.”
“Upset?”
“Fiercely opposed.”
At least now I knew the motive behind my fire message.
“She still thinks you’re a threat. So the Council has agreed to let Roze train you.”
I scrambled to my feet. “No.”
“It’s the only way.”
I bit back a reply. There were other options. There had to be. I was in the Magician’s Keep, surrounded by magicians of various skill levels. There had to be another who could work with me. “What about you or Bain?”
“They wanted a mentor who was impartial. Out of the four Masters, that left Roze.”
“But she’s not—”
“I know. This could be beneficial. Working with Roze, you’ll be able to convince her you’re not out to rule the country. She’ll understand your desire to help both Sitia and Ixia.”
My doubtful expression remained.
“She doesn’t like you, but her passion for keeping Sitia a safe and free place to live will override any personal feelings.”
Irys handed me a scroll, stopping my sarcastic comment on Roze’s personal feelings. “This arrived during the Council session.”
I opened the message. In tight-printed letters was an order from Moon Man. It read, Yelena, I have found what you seek. Come.
CHAPTER 2
THE MESSAGE I HELD WAS typical for Moon Man, my Sandseed Story Weaver and friend. Cryptic and vague. I imagined he had written the note with a devilish grin on his face. As my Story Weaver, he knew I sought many things. Knowledge about Soulfinders and finding a balance between Sitia and Ixia resided at the top of my list. A quiet vacation would be nice, too, but I felt certain he referred to Ferde.
Ferde Daviian, the Soulstealer, and killer of eleven girls had escaped from the Magician’s Keep cells with Cahil Ixia’s help. After the Council failed to recapture him, they debated for an entire month about how to find them both.
My frustration mounted with every delay. Ferde was weak from when I had pulled the souls—his source of magical power—from him during our fight. But all it would take was another girl’s murder for him to regain some of his strength. So far, no one had been reported missing, but the knowledge that he remained free clawed at my heart.
To avoid imagining the horror Ferde might cause, I focused on the message in my hand. Moon Man hadn’t specified to come alone, but I dismissed the notion to tell the Council as soon as the thought formed in my mind. By the time they decided what to do, Ferde would be long gone. I would go without informing them. Irys would call it my rush-into-a-situation-and-hope-for-the-best method. With only a few minor mishaps, it had worked in the past. And at this point, rushing off held more appeal.
Irys had moved away when I unrolled the message, but, by the way she held herself so still, I knew she was curious. I told her about the note.
“We should inform the Council,” she said.
“So they could do what? Debate every possible issue for another month? The message invited me. If I need your help, I’ll send for you.” I sensed her resolve softening.
“You should not go alone.”
“Fine. I’ll take Leif with me.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Irys agreed. As a Council member, she wasn’t happy about it, but she had learned to trust my judgment.
My brother, Leif, would probably be as glad as I was to get away from both the Keep and the Citadel. Roze Featherstone’s growing animosity toward me put Leif in a difficult situation. Apprenticed to Roze while training at the Magician’s Keep, he had become one of her aides upon graduation. His magical skill of sensing someone’s emotions helped Roze determine a person’s guilt in a crime, and his magic also aided victims in remembering details about what had happened to them.
Leif’s first reaction to my reappearance in Sitia after a fourteen-year absence had been immediate hatred. He
