The Fire Seer (32 page)

“I thought you
wanted
me dead,” said Mandir.

“Of course I don’t,” Taya snapped. “Maybe I did once, but that was a long time ago.”

He let out a shaky breath. “I would have told you. But I thought you would turn me in.”

“I would never have turned you in,” said Taya. “Not for helping a few farmers. What do you think I am?”

Mandir regarded her with soft eyes. He did not answer.

“According to Zash, I’m going to die tomorrow anyway,” said Taya, pulling out a chair and dropping heavily into it. “I might as well do a bit of good first.”

“By letting this girl go?”

“I can’t kill her, Mandir. I just can’t.”

“Remember the flood?” said Mandir. “She tried to kill
you
.”

“I forgive her for that.” Taya met his eyes. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve forgiven somebody for something that seemed unforgiveable at the time.”

Mandir’s eyes misted. He went to the table and sat across from her. “Have you really forgiven me?”

She nodded. “I have. And Mandir, I didn’t join the Coalition to become a bully and a thug. I don’t want to burn this girl to death. And if I’m going to die anyway—”

“You’re not,” he said. “Amalia’s right about that. Zash made it up.”

“We don’t know for sure.” She choked as her throat tightened.

In an instant, Mandir was up, dragging her out of the chair, and pulling her into his arms. “It’s all right,” he crooned, stroking her hair. “You’re not going to die, and I’ll figure out something to do about Amalia, I promise. If you’re certain we can’t kill her, then we won’t.”

“But what
can
we do?” They were trapped. They couldn’t kill the girl, and yet Mandir was right; the Coalition expected them to do it and would punish them if they didn’t.

“Right now I want you to get some sleep,” said Mandir. “You’re exhausted, and we don’t have to think about this until morning.”

Taya nodded but did not move. She was reluctant to leave the warmth of his arms. She looked up at him, drinking in the sight of his warm gaze, observing for the first time the slight imperfections in the red tattoos beneath his eyes. He was not a god, not a prince. He was just a man, and she liked him. Maybe she even loved him. What a thought, her and Mandir.

He bent down and pressed his lips to hers. It startled her at first—kissing was not something she had much experience with—but he was gentle, and she decided she liked it. She parted her lips to show that he was welcome, and after a moment she began to reciprocate.

He released her with a sigh of contentment. “Go to bed and get some rest. No matter what happens tomorrow—I love you, Taya.”

Chapter 42: Hrappa

In the morning, Mandir sent for Rasik and had him bring breakfast. Now that they had Zash in custody, he and Taya didn’t need to worry anymore about poisoned food. He ate alone, lingering over his flatbread, goat cheese, and bananas, thinking about Taya and the young jackal she couldn’t bear to kill. Perhaps it would be best all around if he went to the Hall of Judgment this morning and carried out the sentence on his own. That would spare Taya any involvement in the gruesome task while making sure she didn’t break the most sacred of Coalition laws.

She’d be furious with him, of course. That part made his stomach turn. He’d worked hard to earn her good opinion—he’d even kissed her last night, and felt her kiss him back!—and he did not want to squander that good opinion now.

Still, better Taya should be angry at him than condemned to death for breaking Coalition law. He was fairly certain the Coalition would look the other way when it came to her healing Zash’s trees. She’d been forced to do so, after all, and the Coalition valued Taya. They desperately needed their handful of fire seers. But they would never tolerate her letting a jackal go free. The Coalition survived by having a monopoly on magic. They were fanatical about stomping out unauthorized magic use. If he and Taya let Amalia go, the Coalition would declare them rogue and have them hunted down and killed as jackals themselves.

He sighed. Why did Taya have to make a friend of the girl?

He’d made up his mind: he would go to the Hall of Judgment and execute Amalia. Taya might never forgive him, but at least she wouldn’t be in trouble with the Coalition, and she’d be spared the agony of having to watch the girl die. Mandir could carry that burden better than she; his soul was stained enough already.

He shaved and dressed, lingering longer than he should out of distaste for the task that lay ahead. Finally he set out from the guesthouse and headed down the dusty road.

At the Hall of Judgment, he sent for and spoke to Rasik. “I need Amalia.”

Rasik nodded and disappeared into the building.

“Wait!” called a voice behind him.

Flood and fire.
He turned and saw Taya running up the steps, her clothes flapping about her in her mad rush, her hair sticking out of its headdress. She reached the top of the steps and halted. “You can’t do this without me.”

“Go back to the guesthouse,” he said. “It will be easier on you—”

“
Easier
? What are you planning to do?”

“What has to be done,” said Mandir.

She shook her head. “We can’t do that.”

“You can’t. But I can.”

“Mandir—” She stopped short as Rasik came out of the front doors, holding Amalia by the arm.

“Thank you,” Mandir said to Rasik. He seized the girl by the wrist and dragged her down the steps.

“What’s going on?” Amalia cried, trying to wrench her arm out of his grip.

Taya hurried to his side. “You said we’d talk about this. You haven’t the authority to act on your own. We’re a
team
, and besides, I outrank you.”

Amalia tried to peel his fingers off her wrist. “Let go. What’s going on?”

Turning to Taya, Mandir sighed. “All right, we’ll talk about it.”

He went with Taya to her guesthouse, dragging Amalia behind him. The girl had stopped fighting and came willingly enough, though he could feel that she was tense and frightened.

Once they were inside and the door closed, Amalia turned to Taya. “We had a deal.”

Taya grimaced. “The truth is—”

“She can’t keep that deal,” said Mandir, knowing Taya would have trouble breaking the bad news as bluntly as it needed to be broken. “It’s against the law. Coalition policy says you have to die.”

“What?” shrieked Amalia. “But I never wanted to be a jackal. I was forced! I want to join the Coalition!”

“You can’t,” he said shortly.

“Mandir!” protested Taya.

“Why kill
me
?” cried Amalia. “It was Zash who did everything. Zash forced me to become a jackal. He killed our parents. He killed Jaina. He poisoned you—”

“Zash did not do
everything
,” said Mandir. “
You
killed Hunabi. And you tried to kill Taya as well.”

Amalia began to cry.

Taya turned to him. “We haven’t told anyone that she’s the jackal, have we?”

“Not yet.”

“So what if Zash is the jackal?”

Mandir glared at her. “He’s not.”

“No, listen.” Taya spoke rapidly, stepping forward so she could be heard over Amalia’s sobs. “We have to kill Zash anyway. Once he’s dead, no one will know he wasn’t magical.”

“Half the town already knows Amalia was the jackal,” said Mandir. “The peasant farmers sheltered and protected her.”

“If they sheltered her from Zash and Bodhan and the magistrate, they’ll shelter her from the Coalition. Why would they say anything to bring her harm? She’s a hero to them.”

“They
might
say something—you never know—and Amalia is
still magical
,” said Mandir. “If we blame Zash for everything and execute him, we’ll still have a jackal at large—” He stopped as he realized what Taya was getting at.

“
Kimat
,” said Taya.

“Get the bottle from my guesthouse.” The half vial they’d recovered from Zash’s plantation wouldn’t be enough.

Taya ran out the door into the courtyard.

Amalia sniffled and wiped her eyes. “What are you two suggesting?”

“We’ve found a way out,” said Mandir. “You won’t like it. But it’s better than the alternative.”

Taya ran back in, clutching the ceramic vial. She showed it to Amalia. “This is
kimat
. If you drink the whole vial, it will destroy your magic.”

Amalia recoiled. “Why would I do that?”

“Do you want to live or not?” snapped Mandir.

“Here’s what happened,” said Taya. “Listen carefully, because it’s the story you’ll need to know by heart and tell everyone if you want the Coalition to leave you alone. When Zash developed his magical Gift, he chose not to join the Coalition—”

Amalia broke in. “But Zash has no magical Gift—”

“
Listen
,” said Taya. “Yes, he did. That’s the story we’re telling. You threatened to report him, so he locked you up and declared you mad. You escaped and went into hiding. Later, Zash used his magic to murder Hunabi. He wrote the threatening letter to the magistrate in an attempt to have his loan from Bodhan forgiven. Then he burned your house, claiming you had been killed by the jackal, so that he could cover up evidence of his mistreatment of you and deflect suspicion. Later, when Mandir and I closed in on him, he became desperate and turned his magic on us.”

Mandir frowned. He didn’t like it, but the story was reasonably sound. “We’ll have to get all the details straight before we write up the rest of our mission report.”

Amalia sagged in his arms. “I don’t want to lose my magic,” she sobbed. “I want to join the Coalition.”

Taya came and took her hand. “That’s not an option. But this option isn’t so terrible. You’re Zash’s heir, are you not? He has no other family, so when he dies, you’ll inherit a healthy banana plantation with no blight and no debt. You’re a good woman, and the farmers in this town regard you highly. When they learn that their loans have been forgiven, they’ll revere you even more. You may not have your magic any longer, but I think you’ll have a nice life nonetheless.”

Amalia sniffled.

“Wouldn’t you prefer that to a death sentence?” Taya added.

Amalia struggled to her feet and fought to regain control of her arms. “Let go of me.”

Mandir glanced at the firmly closed door and ascertained that if she ran, he and Taya could reach her before she got out. He released her.

“Give me that,” said Amalia, reaching for the vial of
kimat
.

Taya placed it in her hand.

Amalia removed the stopper, and, with trembling hands, raised it to her lips. She drank it down, shaking it to make sure she got the last drops. Finally she handed the vial back to Taya. “It’s done.”

Taya pulled her into a hug and held her as she cried.

∞

Taya stared at the broken man lying in the dirt. The guards had carried Zash out of the Hall of Judgment and laid him in the street. Zash’s chest still rose and fell, but his breaths were shallow. He seemed barely to have survived the night. Taya pitied him, but only insofar as she detested human suffering of any kind. This man had killed his own parents, destroyed his sister’s hopes of joining the Coalition, and murdered an innocent farm woman. He had drugged Taya twice, abducted her, stolen from her, and probably had intended to rape her. This man deserved whatever fate the Coalition chose to deal out.

Back in the strongroom, Mandir had administered the customary dose of
kimat
given to jackals, pinching Zash’s nose and forcing him to swallow. But it was fakery. Zash did not need
kimat
, and they didn’t have enough left to dose him with anyway. Instead, Mandir had given him Echo, which would dull his mind and numb his pain.

“Time to get this over with,” said Mandir. He stepped forward.

She followed him. “We’ll do it together.”

He placed a hand on her arm to stay her and shook his head. “I’m the
quradum
and you’re the investigator. This is my job.”

Taya swallowed. Once, she’d have thought Mandir would enjoy the role of Coalition enforcer, that he would take pleasure in killing the organization’s enemies. Now that she knew him better, she understood that he did not enjoy it at all; rather, he acted as a
quradum
because he
could
. He’d been surrounded by darkness all his life. What was a little more? He could wallow in darkness and survive it. Now she wondered what price he paid for it.

A crowd of onlookers formed a ring around them.

In a deep, authoritative voice, Mandir addressed them. “Townsfolk of Hrappa, we are agents of the Coalition, sent to investigate and prosecute magical crimes. Since the Accords of Let, all magic is restricted to approved Coalition use. This man, Zashkalim isu Ikkarum, used unlawful magic outside of the Coalition’s authority, operating as a jackal for selfish ends.”

“No,” croaked Zash from the dirt. “Not me.”

Mandir ignored him and continued. “When Zash’s sister observed his magic and realized he was using it illegally, she protested, and Zash responded by locking her up and telling everyone she’d gone mad. When she escaped, he covered for her loss by setting the house on fire and claiming she’d been murdered.

“When his debts got out of control, Zash murdered the magistrate’s son and threatened to murder the other son if his debt was not forgiven in court. Then Zash compounded his crimes by murdering Jaina, an innocent farm girl who’d witnessed his murder of Hunabi. Later, in desperation, he summoned an illegal flood in an attempt to kill my partner, and he poisoned and kidnapped both of us.”

Mandir stepped away from Zash. “Let this be a lesson to any who would flout Coalition law.” He gestured, and Zash erupted in flames.

Some of the onlookers backed away and screamed, but Zash did not scream at all. He was half dead already, and the Echo had numbed him further. He simply burned, like a lifeless piece of meat.

Great Mother,
Taya prayed,
I promised you the blood of the unjust. Today I fulfill that promise.

The flames pulsed yellow in acknowledgment. Taya felt sick. She ran her eyes over the crowd. Some watched Mandir while others stared at Zash. Some looked disgusted, others horrified.