Jaleigh Johnson - The Howling Delve

"Meisha."

Hands gripped her shoulders, shaking her and sending waves of cold through the inferno. Meisha shuddered at the icy touch.

"Go away," she snarled, hearing the flames in her own voice. "Leave me be!"

The hands shrank back, and for a moment Meisha thought they would retreat. Then she felt the slap across her cheek, sharp and brutal. The hands shook her again, harder.

Meisha reared back, prepared to burn her attacker to cinders, when she heard the choked cry of pain. The voice spoke her name again, this time in anger.

"Meisha-stupid, flame-kissing Harper-have done!"

Meisha opened her eyes. The flames drained out of her body, leaving her weak and quivering. She collapsed on top of Talal, who squeaked in fresh agony.

"How many ways are you trying to kill me!" the boy screeched, pushing her off and scrambling away.

"You're alive," Meisha said wonderingly. "The cave-in … I thought it had killed you. It killed her-Shaera."

"Is she all right?" came Kall's voice from somewhere above her head.

"Babbling something, but I always knew her mind was addled," Talal said. The boy snorted, but his eyes were filled with concern when he looked down at her.

"How?" Meisha asked.

"Your fat bulk shielded me from the worst of it," the boy said, grinning. "Got a nasty bump, though." He touched his head and winced. "Your back's going to have some pretty scars on it."

He reached under her arms and felt for broken bones as Kall and the others approached.

Meisha caught Talal's wrist and saw the blistering burns on his palm. Her eyes filled with misery. "I burned you," she said bleakly. "I could have killed you."

"You could have killed us all," said Kall, as Garavin knelt beside her and muttered a prayer. "But you didn't."

Meisha looked at Dantane. She felt the dwarf's healing wash over her, closing the worst of her injuries. Talal was right, she thought. Some of the scars would never heal.

"I felt the power," she told the wizard. "The element. I was fire. I wanted it so badly."

Dantane nodded, understanding, but Talal scoffed. "Showing off was what she did," he said. "Boom! That's all you sorcerers are about."

Meisha touched the boy's wrist. "Thank you for telling me when to stop," she whispered. This time, moisture trailed down her cheeks rather than fire.

Talal's face scrunched up at the sight of the tears. He looked more panicked than he had when she was on fire. "Get me out of here, Lady, and we're even. Sune's teats, I swear this is the last time I'll ask."

"Can you continue?" Kall asked her.

With Talal's aid, Meisha got to her feet. "I can," she said.

He nodded. "Let's go, then. There's still a long climb, and the Shadow Thieves are waiting."

Keczulla, Amn

5 Marpenoth, the Year of Lightning Storms (1374 DR)

When Kall emerged from the Bladesmile estate and saw the black cloud hanging in the sky above the Gold Ward, he didn't realize it was alive. He'd been on guard for a Shadow Thief ambush, but the portal room, both in the Delve and the estate, was deserted, the gates active and waiting. He'd been certain it was a trap, but there was no sign of the Shadow Thieves or Varan.

When the black cloud shattered, the birds scattered throughout the city, some dropping from the sky impaled with arrows, others on fire, reeling wildly in the air like dying phoenixes. Kall knew at once where they'd come from.

"Take Garavin to Waukeen's temple," he told Morgan and Talal. The dwarf still walked in a haze, his strength depleted. Kall didn't know how long it would take for him to recover from his experience. "Meisha, Dantane. Come with me." He offered no other explanation; he simply ran toward his home.

He was almost to the line of dark hedgerows that led up to the main entrance when Meisha and Dantane caught up. With surprising strength, the Harper yanked him down behind the hedge while shadows moved in front of the burning house.

Kall grabbed her by the front of her jerkin, both in fury and to steady himself. "If you're not going to help me," he snarled, "get out of my way!"

Meisha glared at him. "Clearly you've forgotten whom you're speaking to," she said, nodding to the house. "They have Varan. I will merrily tear your home apart to find him if it pleases you, but I would rather not die until Balram is writhing safely in the deepest Hells." She leaned close. "I have held myself in check; now you will do the same. Remember your promise, Kall."

They held each other's gaze, and then, jarringly, Kall's face split in a grin. "Fine-tear the place apart. But clear a path for me first. Remember the garden?"

The guards stationed at the double front doors were shocked when they saw Balram and his two companions re-enter the hall, bleeding from scores of scratches and bites. At the same time, light-bright as a bonfire blaze-filled the vertical windows aside the front doors.

"What was that?" asked Balram, one hand covering his bleeding ear.

Elsis ran to the window. "The fire must have spread faster than we anticipated," he said. "The hedgerows are ablaze."

"What?"

The guard pointed to the twin lines of fire burning up to the carriageway.

"Bloody gods," Elsis murmured, flinging one of the doors open to get a better view. "What is that?"

He saw a man striding up the path. His cloak was torn apart, his armor soiled with blood, and his hair and skin were scorched by fire. Yet he walked as if the fire itself propelled him forward. A rush and roar sounded in the distance, and a woman stepped onto the path behind him. From her hands, a ball of fire bloomed and exploded down the walkway, chasing the man hungrily.

Elsis watched, his mouth agape, as the flames closed in, and still the man walked forward. He didn't even glance over his shoulder, though the heat must have been unbearable.

Just before the flames reached him, the woman made a gesture with her hands, pulling her palms apart and spreading her arms wide.

The fireball split. Each half streaked aside the man and past him, exploding in Elsis's face, driving the guard back into the doors and through. The front of the house collapsed, folding in on itself as the structure absorbed the brunt of the explosion. The rubble buried those of Balram's guards not consumed by the fireball.

Kall mounted the steps and crossed the shattered threshold of his home. He saw Balram come out from behind one of the pillars, bloodied and flush from the fire.

Kall noted the bites and scratches. "I see you've met my wife," he said.

Balram did not speak. His gaze flicked to Dantane and Meisha as they flanked Kall in the doorway.

"Welcome home, Kall," said a voice from the doorway. "Now step forward."

Kall smiled. "Am I to be forever finding you just over my shoulder, Aazen?" he asked.

Aazen stepped around them, kicking aside glass and debris to make a path. He half-led, half-dragged Varan in the crook of one arm. In the other, he held a long dagger at the wizard's throat.

Meisha stiffened, but Kall motioned her and Dantane to step forward ahead of him. He kept his back to them and his eyes on Aazen as they moved fully into the hall. "You're a hard man to find, Balram," Kall remarked as Aazen circled around to join his father. "And I've been looking for you a long time."

"I'm flattered. But you shouldn't have come back," said Balram. "Now all this will end in much the same way it began. Except this time"-he touched Aazen's shoulder, and the look of paternal pride in his eyes sickened Kall-"my son will kill you."

Aazen lowered the wizard to the floor and handed his father the dagger. Balram took the blade and settled it back against the wizard's throat. Aazen drew his sword.

Meisha took a step forward, but Balram pivoted so she could see the folds of Varan's skin lying atop the steel. "Move again, and my hand will slip," he promised.

Dantane drew her back. They stepped aside as Kall and Aazen approached one another. To the surprise of all, it was Kall who moved in first, banging his blade off Aazen's with a loud ringing.

"You're not hesitating, Kall," Aazen said, swinging through the parry. "Won't you try to convince me to stand down, to help you kill my father?"

Kall blocked a low thrust. "I told you I would never use you to get at Balram. I asked you to turn from the Shadow Thieves. You'll never be able to trust them."

Aazen drew his blade back, following up with a snapping kick aimed at Kall's midsection. Kall dodged, but caught the brunt of the kick against his bound arm. The pain teased stars from the corners of his eyes.

"I trusted you," Aazen said. "No matter what mischief you convinced me to take part in, you always looked out for me. In your house, I was safe."

"But you trust your father more, because no matter how twisted his love, you believe blood will never betray you," Kall replied.

"Yes." Aazen blocked a flurry of short attacks and reeled when Kall surrendered his advantage to strike with his fist. The punch glanced across Aazen's throat. He folded into a defensive crouch, but Kall followed, forcing him to move back and block while he choked for breath.

"But it's you, Aazen, who loves him beyond reason. He's buried you so deep in his control you don't know the way out. I thought I could convince you to come with me, but I lost you that night in the cemetery, didn't I? I didn't even realize."

"Shut up," Aazen said, whipping his sword around and biting Kall's arm again. The pain was brilliant, but it was still nothing compared to being burned by a demon. Kall stepped into the move, allowing Aazen to deepen the wound. In doing so, Kall put himself right in Aazen's space. Aazen pressed the attack, oblivious. He believed Kall would weaken, favor his arm, and retreat.

Kall batted Aazen's blade aside, flipped his own blade to his off-hand, and grabbed Aazen by the throat, lifting him bodily from the floor. Blood streamed down Kall's arm, but he held on, pressing his fingers in under Aazen's jawbone until his sword fell from his hand.

"Aazen!" Balram cried, and for the first time there was real fear in his voice.

"Kall, stop!" yelled Meisha, who saw what he intended.

Kall ignored them both and released Aazen. His friend dropped, falling onto Kall's angled blade. Aazen grabbed Kall's shoulders to keep himself upright. Kall held him steady. He leaned forward and spoke against his friend's ear, but he meant the words for Balram.

"He was always faster, more graceful, when I was all limbs and bone. Laerin taught me better. A half-elf taught me how to beat him." He slid the blade from Aazen's stomach. "A dwarf taught me how to live."

He stood up, but Balram's eyes were fixed, horrified, on his son. "Aazen," he whispered. The knife went slack in his hand.

Kall reacted, closing the space between him and Balram with speed that would indeed have made the half-elf proud. Kall's sword, wet with the son's blood, found the father's heart with no fight at all from Balram. Kall drove him back and off the ground, drawing the knife away from Varan's throat.

Balram's body hit the ground in a pool of the spilled oil. The latent flames from Meisha's fireball touched the puddle and ignited, and Balram joined the fire that slowly consumed the wood skeleton of Morel house.

Kall backed away, making no move to put out the flames. He took Aazen's arms and slung his friend's body across his shoulders. Dantane lifted Varan, and Meisha took Varan's other side as they headed for the doors.

"This way," said Meisha, She waved an arm and the flames covering the door folded aside, boiling in orange swirls. The group slipped out through the small opening into the outer yard.