The Fire Eye Refugee Read online

  Other Books by Samuel Gately

  The Fire Eye Chosen

  (sequel to The Fire Eye Refugee)

  Spies of Dragon and Chalk Series

  Night of the Chalk

  Rise of the Falsemarked

  Hour of the Borhele (short story)*

  Alliance of the Sunken

  *Available for free with mailing list signup: http://eepurl.com/c3aDDL

  Visit samuelgately.com for more info.

  Contents

  Prologue. The Woman in the Fire

  Chapter 1. The Opening

  Chapter 2. A Fetch at the Fight

  Chapter 3. The Fire Creep

  Chapter 4. A Private Matter

  Chapter 5. Not Just the Strong Ones

  Chapter 6. She Must Stay Lost

  Chapter 7. A Comparison of Notes

  Chapter 8. The Remaining Seats

  Chapter 9. A Little Cat and Mouse

  Chapter 10. The Harbor Grey

  Chapter 11. The Servant’s Entrance

  Chapter 12. They Call It New Farrow

  Chapter 13. New Something Rises

  Chapter 14. The Home Guard

  Chapter 15. The Missing Daughter

  Chapter 16. Threats in the Camp

  Chapter 17. Lines on a Map

  Chapter 18. Ban Terrel’s Gardens

  Chapter 19. The Unknown Client

  Chapter 20. Enemies at Heel

  Chapter 21. The Dynasty Weeping

  Chapter 22. A Place at the Table

  Chapter 23. The Questioning Room

  Chapter 24. The Dynasty’s Voice

  Chapter 25. The Overlook

  Chapter 26. Events Set Right

  Chapter 27. The Third Man

  Chapter 28. The Orphans

  Chapter 29. Battle of the Branches

  Chapter 30. The False Eye

  Chapter 31. Blood Divided

  Epilogue. The Closing

  Author’s Notes

  Prologue. The Woman in the Fire

  Joah watched as the flames crept closer to his feet. He was calm, unbothered. His arms and legs were tied with rope. His girl dead in the next room. He’d join her soon enough. He couldn’t muster the will to care all that much. He wasn’t even coughing, though the thick black smoke was sliding painfully down his throat. Something the man had given him, some sort of drug in the wine. The man had called himself a doctor. Maybe he knew about drugs, the kind that would keep Joah content even as he watched himself burn to death.

  Joah was letting his eyes slide shut, no need to actually watch the fire eat him, when a woman walked through the flames. She seemed, like him, far too calm to be trapped in a raging house fire. Maybe a vision? A side effect of the drugs? He couldn’t see her well through the smoke, just a thin black shape examining the room’s walls near him, confident and unhurried. She drew closer and he watched her remove a glass jar from under her cloak. She reached in and pulled out a handful of a fine grey powder, which she threw in a practiced arc against the base of the walls. The flames fell back, smoke retreating, and Joah was able to see her face as she knelt in front of him.

  “Are you Joah Ralis?” she asked, bronze skin shining in the firelight. Sharp features like Sara’s. Beautiful. If he couldn’t look at Sara as he died, he could at least look at this woman. When he didn’t answer, she reached and turned his head, leaning down to examine the long scar along the side of his jaw. “Where’d you get this, Joah? Your parents said you hurt it loading barrels.” Her tone was light, still unhurried though the flames were already pressing back.

  He gave a grin. “Knife fight in the Lagoons.”

  She produced a small blade and cut away the ropes on his arms and legs. “You’ve been drugged, Joah. Your parents sent me to find you. I’m going to get you out of here. There’s a window in the next room. We can get out onto the roof. From there you either jump or I push you. I don’t get paid any less if you break a few bones. Can you walk?” She tugged him up into a sitting position.

  Joah’s head swam, his grin fading. “We can’t leave Sara.”

  “The Farrow with blonde hair, about my height? Sorry, Joah, she’s dead in the other room.” She reached out, grabbed him by both hands and gave them a quick squeeze. “Come with me now.”

  He gave a grunt and forced himself to his feet, the woman helping. She wasn’t particularly big but neither was he. She led him away from the room that held Sara. When he turned back towards it, she pulled him forward. “Focus, Joah. You want to give this guy another clean kill?”

  Joah stumbled after her through a doorframe lined with fire, muttering, “He’s done this before?” She didn’t hear. Now that he was up the smoke was attacking hard. He briefly lost the woman then felt her hands again. She led him to a window. There was fresh air. They were on the second floor. It might feel nice to be weightless, falling towards the stones below. The woman caught Joah as he swayed forward.

  She pushed him against the window frame and reached down to pull his legs up one at a time. “He said he was going to the window,” Joah said. He was mounting the window frame, resting his numb feet on the short, slanted roof.

  She gave him a sharp look. “The window? The doctor said that? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “He said,” Joah felt this point was important, “that he was leaving to join the window. Told the other guy that.”

  “The Winden?” she asked.

  Joah shrugged and let himself slide out onto the roof. He heard the woman, caught off guard, curse and try to grab him. He turned over a few times on the tiles, then was falling. He had a moment of bliss, free of the flames and the recent horrors he’d endured, before the ground cracked into him. His breath fled and he writhed on the ground, the numbing effect of the drugs not sparing him from a wave of sharp pain. He heard the woman land smoothly near him.

  Her hands grasped his shoulders, gripping his shirt. She dragged him into the shadows of the nearest alley and propped him up against a wall. They watched the fire swallowing the house in front of them while Joah’s wind came back. Flames licked at every window, smoke pouring from each opening out into the night. There were a few shouts, mostly around the front end of the house, for the fire brigade.

  After watching for a few more labored breaths, Joah grew bored and turned to the woman. She was staring at the fire, transfixed, an unsettling expression of bliss on her face. When she realized he was watching, it slid away and he was left wondering if he’d imagined it. She turned to him. “He took you on the riverwalk? You were staying at the Bellshore Inn?” Joah nodded. She said, “A lean, older man? Maybe wearing dark glasses? Called himself a doctor, probably several times?” Joah was still nodding. “Who was the other guy you mentioned?”

  Joah shrugged. He’d never gotten a good look. Just at the very end, right after they’d killed Sara and started the fire. When the doctor said the thing about the window, or the Winden. “Sara’s gone.” He started crying. “I loved her. Nobody believed me.” The woman didn’t say anything for a while as Joah cried. Finally he asked, “What was the point of this? Who was that?”

  “I wish I knew. All I know is that you were targeted because she’s a Farrow and you’re a Gol. Whoever this so-called doctor is, he’s killed several young couples. He doesn’t like mixed-blood. When your parents told me you’d run off with your Farrow lover, I knew there might be trouble. He picked you out because you were with her. I don’t know the other one. He’s always worked alone before tonight.”

  “We weren’t hurting anybody.” He bent over to the stones in a fit of weak coughing.

  “I know,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry. I would have saved her if I could.” The wind shifted, carrying the glowing embers of the burning house away from th
em. “He said he was leaving. At least there’s that.”

  Chapter 1. The Opening

  The Fire Eye opened over the city of Celest, just as it had every year as far back as anyone could remember. The same day of the year, same time of night, same miraculous celestial event. It began with the slow appearance of what could be mistaken for a chain of stars. These grew steadily brighter to form a jagged line of bright purple in the dark skies. Then, so like an eye drawing open, the line spread into an oval of blazing light, colors trapped somewhere between a rainbow and a flame. Huge, it took over the sky above the city, perched above it as a flower in bloom might stand over a clump of grass.

  Kay didn’t look up. She longed to. Each year brought subtle variations to the pattern of the Fire Eye, variations Kay knew far better than any others in the gaping crowd she steered her way through. She should have been home, sitting in the rooftop corner she had set up especially for this. Instead, a job offer had come in from a man it was unwise to ignore. Accompanied by instructions to meet him atop the stairs which overlooked the gathering on the plaza. Which left Kay working her way through the crowd, ignoring the shifting light on the cobblestones below her and the gasps of children and visitors seeing the Fire Eye from Celest for the first time.

  Soon the lanterns would launch. Many of the crowd had already lit theirs. Small candles heated the trapped air in the paper lanterns and drew them upwards. A tiny spark to pay homage to the great fire in the sky. The lights from the hundreds of early rising lanterns danced off the golden skin of the crowd. They wanted to get their lights up early, to beat the thousands that would follow. They were easier to track that way, and later tell the lie that they had seen their lantern pass into the very center of the Eye, the flaming pupil. Granting them a wish for power or love or peace. There would be more wishing for peace this year than any other, at least from those who had their eyes open and knew the refugee situation would get worse before it got better. Those who realized the hunger and anger of the tens of thousands outside the walls would not wink out as smoothly as the Fire Eye would when its time had elapsed.

  The lack of a Farrow presence at the Fire Eye Opening was notable. The refugees had brought no equivalent holiday from their homeland. The Fire Eye was unique to Celest and the locals made no effort to share the occasion. There was profit to be made from Farrow gold, one thing they’d packed in abundance, but the Gol seemed in agreement that the sense of community brought about by the Opening would only be strained by a Farrow presence, the way their presence had strained everything else. Indeed, with a crowd this large, all Gol, all armed with fire, it would be unsafe for any of the lighter-skinned outsiders here. While the lanterns rose and all eyes turned to the sky, it would be too easy for a knife to find its way into a Farrow back.

  Kay, herself a mix of Farrow and Gol blood, had drawn unwelcome attention during these tense days. Wetbloods, the favored slur for Gol of mixed heritage, were not popular right now. She’d been in Celest for nearly ten years and she was committed to dying before she left the aura of the Fire Eye behind. But the flood of refugees had forced a Gol-Farrow divide which endangered her peace. Hers and all others of mixed-blood. Kay’s skin was the more golden tone of the Gol and her hair was black, which allowed her to pass as Gol at a glance, but a closer look revealed sharp features more in line with the Farrow. Smaller eyes, a hawkish nose. She kept her hair neatly trimmed at shoulder length, just long enough to swing free in the Gol fashion for women but easy to pull back when she needed to move quickly. She wore a dark blue cloak pulled around her to hide her lithe frame and the weapons she carried.

  Kay looked past the crowd to the stairs where she was summoned tonight. Her plan had been to arrive for the meeting early to scope the crowd and have an escape route ready. Two men guarded the entry of the long stairs, which ended at the Goet Overlook. Where Ban Terrel was waiting. She had yet to learn much about where she was headed. The crowd had slowed her. If the meet went bad, she had no escape plan.

  The men gave her a move-on gesture as she approached, clearly expecting her. They wore a common dark grey color on slightly varied styles of coat, not uniforms but pretty close. She climbed the stairs slowly, trying not to look up at the Fire Eye above her. She would take it in later. It would wait. She needed her senses at the top. Another two guards waiting there.

  Kay didn’t know enough about Ban Terrel. She was unsure whether his people would be best treated as a gang, a family, or a company. Given their disciplined stances and spacing, there was definitely a martial component. She had to assume any of his men would kill her at a look from him. She knew Ban Terrel was both respected and feared. Enough so that she wasn’t saying no to this invitation and would find it hard to say no to whatever job was offered her. She had no idea where his money was born or where it slept. No idea where he stood with the Dynasty or where he came down on the refugee question that had divided the city of late.

  She knew that during the Opening, the height at which one was stationed was reflective of status. Gol were obsessed with station and its most prominent marker was altitude. The plaza Kay had walked through was filled with commoners, children running around with eager shouts. The rich and noble were atop the various buildings and higher plazas surrounding the main. Or overlooks like this one. At the palace, the Dynasty would have carefully chosen the elevation of each guest based on their contributions during the last year and anticipated ability to carry that level of effort forward.

  The Goet Overlook was crowded with more grey coats. It had none of the festive atmosphere one could see below. Ban Terrel stood at the far end of the space, resting both hands on the crumbled remnants of the rampart which surrounded the Overlook. A beautiful choice, maybe the best Kay had seen, for a viewing of the Fire Eye.

  All eyes were on Ban Terrel as he quietly looked at the skies, some personal communication between him and the celestial event. Kay paused, uncertain whether to come any closer. She could feel the men, a respectful distance from Ban Terrel, turn their attention to her. Weighing her. Then Ban Terrel turned. He was elderly, dressed in a simple robe of dark grey, a thin beard below a shaved head. He gave her a light smile and gestured for her to take the place beside him. As she neared she saw he had two lanterns ready for launch. He’d prepared and waited for her. An unexpected gesture of respect that did nothing to lessen her wariness.

  Ban Terrel gripped her hand in a paternal manner and drew her to one of the lanterns. He took his place in front of his own. Both had lit candles. When he loosened their ties, only Ban Terrel’s gentle grip prevented them from floating away. The sky in front of them was littered with rising lights as the lanterns from the plaza below ascended. Kay could see hues of purple and orange dancing on the outside rims of the thin paper lanterns, the Fire Eye reaching out. She would have to look at it. He would notice if she didn’t. The small flame dancing atop the candle in front of her didn’t pull at her the way it normally would. Not tonight. Not with its great mother, father, god in the sky above. The candle was nothing. The Fire Eye was everything.

  As she released her lantern, following Ban Terrel’s lead, she lifted her eyes. There it was just above her. The light hit her eyes and burrowed deeper, filling her head with its song. She felt her body melt, become one with the perfect fire in the sky. Her dream, her savior. No one else understood the gift they’d been given. The fire she’d chased her whole life painted above, unafraid and beautiful. Her mouth fell slack, eyes filled with tears. This was why she tried to be alone every year on the night the Fire Eye opened.

  She was dimly aware that Ban Terrel was waiting for her to pull her attention away from the Fire Eye. She closed her eyes reluctantly, still seeing the fiery pattern on the insides of her lids for a moment, and turned to face him. If he saw the wetness on her cheeks, he ignored it.

  “I was told you find children.” Kay nodded but he was already looking back out over the city. “Thank you for answering my summons. I hope the timing wasn’t too inconvenient. I ha
ve always enjoyed the Opening. A wonderful time for reflection on the past as well as the beginning of something new.” He paused for a long time. “I also love Celest. I love seeing the joy and spirit of the Opening reflected out there.” A sweeping gesture to the plaza below. “What do you see when you look out there?”

  Kay shrugged. “I see a much needed release. A step away from everyone’s concerns.”

  “And what are everyone’s concerns?”

  Her eyes shifted to the west. Thousands of lights floated in the skies above Celest. Beyond the city walls it was dark. The Fire Eye went uncelebrated amongst the refugees. The Farrow fought a battle with starvation and chaos. The people she had once called her own, from a land that had once been her miserable home. The ones who had exiled her to Celest now badly wanted to follow her through its gates.

  Ban Terrel was watching her closely. “I understand you have Farrow blood. Does it cause you pain to see them suffer?”

  A long pause. “Yes,” Kay said. “There were some who treated me kindly, long ago, though I have no idea how many of those I knew survived the war.”

  “Why did you become a finder of children?”

  It was a question Kay fielded often. The ones who hired her, the desperate parents and grandparents, the scared friends, the fretting relations, all were full of mistrust. To invite one into a story involving a missing child was to expose your weakness. It told a stranger of your willingness to sacrifice for their return. Let someone untrustworthy into your circle and you could be conned. A competing offer could be leveled to your enemies, assuming they hadn’t already wrapped their hands around your offspring. Assuming your child still lived.

  She gave him the safe answer, not feeling the need to show her hand this early in the game. “I have a knack for it.” She unconsciously fingered the leather bracelet she used to track the children she’d been able to help. One notch in the leather for each child she’d brought home.