When Comes the Fire Read online

  Namida laughed. "Somehow, I doubt that. How would he have any time for other things?"

  Master Dorozi gave a one-sided shrug. "I suppose you'll just have to prove me wrong by spying on him," he said with a small smile. She mentally cursed. Master Dorozi knew that she could never back down from a challenge, and especially not from a chance to prove someone else wrong. She was a fairly prideful person, and she did so hate being on the losing end of a dispute, no matter whether it was physical or verbal.

  Namida huffed. "Fine," she said, fixing him with a half-hearted glare. "But if Momal finds out and takes me to task, I'm telling him it was all your idea."

  Master Dorozi just smirked, waving her on her way.

  The good thing about her stealth tests, she supposed, was that in order for Master Dorozi to test her abilities, they could be done at whatever time she pleased. It would also test his ability to sense her lurking about the complex, so it helped him to stay on his toes. He was getting up in years, after all, as she took much joy in gloating at every possible opportunity.

  Namida went about her day as though it were any other, forcing the impending test to the darkest recesses of her mind as she forced herself to act and react as she normally would around the others. It was harder, understandably, when she was around Momal to ignore the fact that she would have to spy on him, but thankfully no one seemed to be any the wiser to her mixed feelings on the subject.

  Except, unfortunately, for Darwe.

  Namida had gotten dressed in her usual apparel—albeit in a more muted color than she usually wore—and slipped out of her room, only to stop dead in her tracks. Darwe was waiting there for her, sitting on the bench in the hallway facing her room with his arms crossed over his chest, looking irritated and impatient.

  "What's your issue with Momal all of a sudden, Mida?" he asked, his brow furrowed. She could tell he was genuinely worried that something was wrong between her and the complex's botanist, and she had to suffocate a smile at his misplaced concern. She moved to step past him, eager to get her final stealth test over and done with so she would never be asked to spy on her friends and comrades ever again.

  "I don't really have time for this right now, Darwe. I'll explain later—"

  "No!" Darwe said firmly, shooting to his feet and grabbing her arm as she tried to walk past, whirling her around to face him as his hands moved to grip both of her shoulders. "You don't get to do that. You don't get to shut me out like that. Not this time," he said in a heated whisper, referring to all of the times she'd refused to tell him about her family or the nightmares of fire she would still sometimes wake up screaming from, causing him to come rushing to her room in the middle of the night to let her cry into his cotton sleep shirt until she would fall back into an exhausted, dreamless sleep. The realization that she was hurting him by not wanting to share her pain was an odd thing to her, to say the least.

  Namida frowned, twisting the hem of her sleeve between her fingers and weighing her choices. With an aggravated sigh, she grabbed the older boy's left hand from its resting place on her shoulder and turned to drag him down the hall after her. When she heard him take a breath, feeling the unspoken questions in the air, she cut him off before he could voice them.

  "Don't talk. Be very quiet. When I tell you, we'll have to employ all the stealth tactics Master Dorozi taught us. Nod once if you agree and can wait to ask any and all questions until after I tell you it's safe," she said, glancing back at him as their soft-soled boots whispered across the tiled floors. Darwe frowned, but nodded. That was all the confirmation Namida needed as she launched into a run, Darwe stumbling momentarily behind her before he, too, made his steps quiet as hers were. His bulkier frame did not lend to stealth as hers did, though, and she hoped he would not give her away once they reached their destination.

  When they reached the greenhouse, Darwe shot her a curious, questioning look. She just rolled her eyes, holding her index finger to her lips to indicate his silence before she slowly crouched down to walk the last length of the curved hallway and approach one of the only two entrances to the greenhouse—the one that entered through the back, away from Momal's usual work station. With her back facing the door, she slowly extended her legs so she could peer through the edge of the glass, into the depths of the expansive garden within. They had come right after the guards had switched off for the night, and she knew that the guards coming on tonight were ones that tended to dally a few extra minutes in the foyer, preparing coffee and snacks for the long night shift ahead. When she did not see anyone within the greenhouse, she gave a wicked smirk and signaled to Darwe to follow her, easing the door open just enough to allow them to slip through and closing it behind them with a barely audible click. Even as it sounded, she was tip-toeing through the foliage, mindful of fallen twigs and dead leaves, as it was now the end of the dry season. The month of Phan-ein had just begun, bringing the season's rains and flash floods with it. She sent a silent prayer to Phan and Fate that they would be able to store enough water to get them through yet another long season of drought as she crept between the bushes, silently slipping between the leaves until at last Momal was just within sight. She could hear him shuffling a stack of papers as he organized his light wooden desk, a stark contrast against the dark and varied colors of the many plants that filled the greenhouse. Momal often worked late into the evening, as he did not rise until mid-morning, something Kilish often liked to tease him about. Momal didn't much care about her teasing; he preferred to get his sleep, he said, and he would rather sleep after the sun had risen than before it had even set. Namida could understand the sentiment, but under the grueling tutelage of Master Dorozi, she never had the chance to realize her desire for that sort of laidback lifestyle. Not that she could afford to be so lazy, she thought vaguely. As it was, becoming a master of the blade was taking far too long for her liking. Then again, if it was an easier thing to do, then too many would be and it would cheapen the sense of what they considered a 'master', she supposed...

  She could practically feel the questions radiating from Darwe as they stood stock-still, concealed from Momal's vision by the leaves of the bushes, not that he was facing them anyways. Neither of them trained their eyes on the older man, instead choosing to look at the ground or the foliage around them, sometimes glancing at one another, stuck in their current close quarters as they were. It made things a little awkward when that happened, Namida felt, so she tried to avoid Darwe's gaze as much as possible. His gaze had a tendency to be just a little too intense for her liking, the chocolate-brown irises seeing more of her and her insecurities than she thought they should.

  It felt like an age that they were crouched there, Namida's thighs and shins slowly cramping as they waited; for what, she wasn't quite sure. For the intended half hour to be up, she supposed.

  She certainly was not expecting one of the desert sparrows she often saw perched in the treetops to swoop down to Momal's shoulder as the clock next to his desk struck the hour.

  "What news today?" a soft female voice lilted from Momal's direction. Namida froze as she realized that it was being emitted from the bird. But that was...! Could it be...magick? She had heard tales of familiars, animals whose owners wielded magick and had imbued them with certain properties in order to aid in their practice, especially in times of war. She had always thought that was a myth, but seeing it now, with her own eyes...she stuck a finger in her ear to check for wax, but it came out clean. No, she had heard correctly, after all. One look at Darwe's wide eyes and open jaw told him that she wasn't the only one, either. She shut his jaw with one knuckle, earning a small glare before they both turned back to the strange scene at hand.

  "As always, the girl grows stronger," Momal murmured, still sorting his paperwork as though nothing were out of place. She supposed to anyone peering in from the other side of the windows, as the guards posted outside the doors might, it would look like nothing was. She wondered briefly who 'the girl' was, and her pride entertained the idea th
at it might be her for a moment before her sensible side shut it down. "I have had no progress with swaying Dorozi, though I am quite certain he is aware of where my true loyalties lie."

  His true loyalties...? What was Momal talking about? Namida frowned, looking over to Darwe, only to find his hands clenched into tight fists as he shook with anger. That was the only clue she needed to realize the truth.

  Momal was a spy.

  She was struck suddenly by the need to get out of there, the urgency flooding her system like a switch had been flipped. They were spying on a spy. They were going to get caught, and who knew what Momal would do with them when he found out? Namida reached out and grabbed Darwe's clenched hand, conveying her panic with just a glance. Darwe's eyes went wide, and he slipped his hand around hers, gripping it tight and pantomiming for her to take deep breaths. She could feel herself getting light-headed as she tried to do as he silently motioned.

  "Very well then," the soft female voice said from beyond the ringing in her ears. "I will check in again later...for now, you should be mindful of the curious ears of small children."

  That was all the cue that Darwe needed. Before Namida could process what was happening, he had scooped her into his arms and was ducking and weaving between the trees and bushes from whence they had come, his feet light as he avoided the fallen twigs and leaves to the best of his ability. Not totally soundless, as she would have been, but she couldn't blame him when he needed to carry her due to her incapacitating panic attack. They happened more often than she would care to admit. It was usually Darwe who saved her from them, too. If she were to be honest with herself, she wasn't entirely sure she would have survived the complex this long without him. He was like the unmoving stone foundation of the building, anchoring her whenever she felt she might float away. They waited in the shadows of a copse of rose bushes by the rear exit, mindful of the thorns, until Momal came jogging up to speak to the guards. He spoke tersely to them, then asked them to come inside and do a sweep of the area to see if anyone had slipped in when they had changed guard. The two guards grumbled protests, but stepped in to do as they were asked, and Namida withheld a sigh of relief as they started to the opposite side of the doors, moving around the perimeter, as Momal moved back to the opposite end of the greenhouse to start the sweep there. As soon as they were all out of sight, Darwe set the recovered Namida down on her own two feet. With a grateful nod, she led him as they slipped out of the greenhouse-turned-madhouse and back to her chambers, trying to walk at a calm and leisurely pace despite the fact that her nerves were singing from the very close call.

  When the door clicked shut behind them, Darwe whirled on her.

  "What in the blazes was all that about?" he demanded in a harsh whisper, his face red with suppressed anger. "How did you know Momal was spying on Master Dorozi?"

  Namida was dumbfounded. Sure, Darwe had been angry at her before, but it had always been because of something she'd done to endanger herself or others, not because he was genuinely accusing her for...spying, she guessed. She couldn't really refute that she had been, but it hadn't been of her own volition. She didn't want this new revelation that one of the people she cared about was...not as good a person as she thought they were.

  "I didn't," she whispered back fiercely, needing him to believe her. She wasn't sure what she would do if he didn't. "I swear! Master Dorozi is the one who sent me there to spy on Momal as a test. My final stealth test," she said. "Surely you had to do one for your training, as well?"

  Darwe looked taken aback at her accusation. "Well, yes, but..." his words ran out, his mind unable to form an adequate excuse for his overreaction. He sighed. "Sorry. This is all just a little much to take in right now."

  Namida gave a jerk of a nod, still bristling from his verbal attack.

  "It begs the question, though," Darwe said as he sat down next to her at the foot of the bed. "Why did Master Dorozi assign you to spy on Momal, of all people? When I had my stealth test, he just told me to pick a guard and spy on them for a half hour without getting caught. So why specifically assign you to Momal?" His expression was one of intense concentration. "It almost makes you wonder...if he knows Momal is a spy."

  Namida flicked a glance over at the young man, the beads in his long hair clinking quietly as he shook his head with a frown. "Momal said that he was certain Master Dorozi knows where his loyalties lie," she said, recalling the words he had spoken before her panic attack had set in. She growled in the back of her throat. She didn't want this information. She didn't know what to do with it, and she didn't want to do anything with it. Momal was her friend and colleague, and knowing this would set their relationship horribly off-balance. She wasn't sure how she could act normal around him anymore with the knowledge she now held. "I'll bet Master Dorozi sent me to spy on Momal knowing full well what I might find out about him. It seems exactly like the roundabout way of telling me about things he tends to have; letting me find out important things on my own by just giving me vague instructions and letting me discover it like he never even told me anything to begin with."

  Darwe shook his head. "I just don't understand why Master Dorozi would do that to you," he said, ever loyal to his master. "He's always been such a straight-forward person to me."

  Namida shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose to ward off an oncoming headache. "I don't know either, Dar. It's just...none of this makes sense, and I just feel tired of all these surprises and secrets. It seems like more and more of them just keep coming to light everywhere I look." The stress was beginning to make the phantom ache where her left arm used to be flare up again. She grit her teeth at the pain. It seemed like she couldn't go through an entire day without some sort of ache, whether it was her stump arm or something from training, or a headache from over-thinking and over-analyzing every little thing.

  Darwe turned his head to her, his hands clasped loosely in his lap as he regarded her with a strange expression. It was gone before she could decipher it, replaced by his usual calm, slightly concerned look. At least, that was how he usually looked at her, she'd noticed. She wanted to tell him his face would get stuck like that if he kept making that expression, but it reminded her a bit of her older brother, and her heart gave a painful squeeze as she realized she didn't want him to quit. It was one of the only things she had left that reminded her of her family. Master Dorozi and Darwe were her family now, but Darwe especially so. He had taken over the role of not only her protective older brother, but also her nurturing, kind-hearted mother. He was two-thirds of her family rolled into one person. It scared her to think that she didn't know what she would do if she were ever to lose him. She didn't want to be so attached to him. She wanted to become a master swordsman and leave to find answers on her own. She didn't want to rely on anyone, because people were fragile and could be killed with very little effort, and where she would need to go for answers, there was a very good chance that she wouldn't survive. She could not bring herself to doom Darwe to that fate. In fact, she wanted him as far from her as possible when she left to greet death and Fate. He needed to live. He was too good for the end she was slowly building herself up to.

  "It's been a long night," Darwe said suddenly, glancing to the corner of her room, where Nyago already lay sprawled on the cool tile floor, his ears twitching slightly in his sleep. She envied the hound his carefree life. She hadn't slept that well in weeks, her dreams so often interrupted by screams and fire. "You should get something to eat and get some rest. It'll be another early morning tomorrow."

  Didn't she know it. The only day of the week they ever got to lie in was Fate's Day, and even then it was only for an hour past their usual bleary-eyed wake-up call.

  "No. Yeah," she said, shaking her head as if to clear it. She made a shooing motion towards the door. "Go. I'll be fine. We can worry about...all of this come morning." She gave him a half-hearted smile, suddenly feeling very tired. He shot her a knowing look, but moved towards the door. He paused with his hand on the knob
and looked back at her.

  "You know you can call me if you need anything, right?" he said. "I'm just down the hall. You can tell me if you need me to stay."

  Namida snorted, bluffing to cover the sense that she could really use someone to talk to. Not about anything in particular, really. Everything, maybe. Her parents; the destruction of her village; how the loss of her arm was still something she struggled with every day; how Master Dorozi was an enigma she couldn't figure out if she loved or hated or maybe even both. She refused to talk to Darwe, because maybe if she just kept pushing him away long enough, he would finally draw the line and leave. Because even though she knew it would break her heart if he ever did, she knew it would be better for them both if he did. "I'm not a baby, Dar. I can take care of myself. I change my own underwear and everything."

  Darwe scowled. "You know that's not what I meant," he protested, but he left with a huff anyway, just like she'd intended to make him do. It was so easy to push him away. It always made her hurt, though. She grimaced, dropping her head in her hand and just focusing on her breathing for a long, drawn-out moment before she finally dragged herself up off the bed to get changed into her night clothes. She dreaded going to sleep sometimes, even though she always felt so tired outside of training or patrol duty, the only thing that gave her any energy being the very rush of adrenaline that stole it away the moment it was gone. The moment she was finished changing and splashing cool water on her face from the basin on her bedside table, she bade the already-sleeping Nyago a goodnight, receiving a muffled whuff in response as she crawled under the covers. She stared at the stucco ceiling above her for a long time, just memorizing the little bumps and cracks as she always did, dreading the moment sleep came. It seemed like all she did lately was toss and turn with nightmares once unconsciousness came. Nevertheless, eventually it came, as it always did, dragging her down into its dark depths like some unwelcome beast holding her clutched in its ugly jaw.