When Taelord entered the storeroom, Fera was already lying down. He considered asking her again where she had been, but decided against it. She clearly didn’t want to tell him, she was safe, and he had more important things to discuss anyway, preferably before Veth and Scar-shoulder showed up.
“Mother,” he said tentatively, sitting beside her on his own bed. “It isn’t safe here anymore. The rebellion will start for real in the next few days, and Utgar doesn’t have the power to stop it. We need to flee, now.”
She turned onto her back and looked at him. “Where would we go?” she said after a moment.
“Anywhere,” Taelord said. “We might be able to leave with G’shar on the Windchaser. Or if there isn’t room, we’ll make for somewhere else… the Red Flats maybe.”
“And if we escape?” she said. “What then? Everyone around us will know who we are. We can’t disguise our Volcarren skin or wings. Word will get out, and the Empire will come for us.” She paused for half a heartbeat. “And if the Empire doesn’t,” she said, “then Utgar will.”
Taelord frowned. “You know?” he guessed.
“Of course I know,” she whispered. “All the Volcarrens know. Or guess, at least. They whispered about it on the Red Flats: you were with Utgar. You know where the Wellspring is.”
Taelord had never told her. It hadn’t been a secret, not really. He had just… never mentioned it. He probably had Ahnvad’s upbringing to thank for that: never solicit information which could get him into trouble.
“Maybe I could leave,” Taelord’s mother said. “Maybe I could stay hidden, and never be missed. But you? Neither the Empire nor Utgar would let you rest.”
“And if Utgar came with us?” Taelord said quietly.
She was silent, watching him.
“He doesn’t want a war,” Taelord said, “but he can’t stop it now. I could talk to Runa, and she could convince him to flee. They could join us.”
“The Empire would still hunt us,” she said. “Doubly so, if Utgar was with us.”
“Then we’d hide,” Taelord said. “Hide somewhere they’d never look. In the middle of a desert or the top of a mountain if we had to, but we would survive. And we’d be free. We could live there, just us, and finally be free.”
She looked at him for a moment. Beyond the door, Taelord thought he could hear G’shar and Syafa talking quietly. Their voices sounded worried.
“No,” Fera said.
Taelord looked at her.
She shook her head. “I lived that way once, when I was young. Struggling to survive, to find food in a harsh land, going hungry. I wouldn’t wish that upon you. And I doubt Utgar would wish it upon his daughter. I won’t live in a barren land again.”
“You’ll be living in a warzone if you stay,” Taelord said, frowning.
“Not if we join the Empire.” She gripped his arm to keep him from turning away. “Listen to me – listen, Taelord. The Empire has food. They have resources, men, land. If we help them, they’ll help us. If we escape with Utgar, maybe we make it, and maybe we can find freedom, but we’d be living a life of hardship. If we join the Empire, we could have everything we’ve ever dreamed of. Plenty of food, the comfort of a bed at night, a roof over our heads…”
“Mother,” Taelord said, “have you see what the Empire does to its subjects? These people are practically starving! They might have a roof, but in many ways they’re worse off than we were in the Volcarren. At least we could live our own way there, apart from the Empire. But here… why would the Empire treat us any different?”
“Because we have something they desire.”
Taelord watched her in the semi-darkness, silent.
“The Wellspring,” he guessed.
“The Wellspring.”
He turned away, pulling his arm from her grasp, and laid down on his bed.
“They’re searching for it, Taelord,” Fera said, sitting up on one elbow and facing him. “They want to seal it, not use it. You know where it is. You could tell them, and in return they’ll give us anything we want. Anything.”
Taelord turned his head and looked at her for a moment. He was ashamed to admit that he considered what she said. But then he shook his head. “No,” he said. “I can’t trust them. We can’t trust them, Mother. The Empire doesn’t care about deals or promises. They’ve shown that with Utgar already. Once they had the Wellspring, they could forget about us. Then we’d be nowhere, worse off than we are now.”
And besides, he thought, I wouldn’t do that to Runa. I couldn’t betray her like that.
“It’s our only option,” Fera said.
“It isn’t an option,” Taelord said firmly, turning back so he was looking at the ceiling. “I’ll talk to Runa tomorrow, and see if she can convince Utgar to come with us. We’re leaving as soon as possible.”
Fera didn’t reply. He heard her lie back down, but she said nothing. Instead, she rolled over onto her side, facing away from him.
He sighed, and closed his eyes. He would have to convince her. Escaping the war was going to be harder than he had thought.
Taelord was woken by a shout.
“Up! Everyone!” It was G’shar’s voice.
Taelord was on his feet, sword in his hands, in an instant. He glanced to his side, where a dark shape told him his mother was there, sitting up in her bed. Two more shadows sprang upright in the darkness – Veth and Scar-shoulder. They must have returned some time after Taelord fell asleep.
Taelord reached the door first and pulled it open.
“Fire,” Rehs said without preamble, rushing past.
“Where?” Taelord followed him through the door.
Light flickered and danced in the night, but it was not, as Taelord had feared, coming from G’shar’s home, but rather from a squat house a short distance away. The flames were still plenty close to feel the blast of their heat.
“Get buckets!” G’shar shouted, his silhouette flickering and distorting before the fire.
Taelord doubted it would make much difference. The entire home was on fire.
Syafa appeared in the doorway. “Here,” she said, handing a bucket with water to Taelord, and another to Rehs, who stood nearby. G’shar beckoned them forward, already holding two full buckets, and they charged after him.
The heat seared their skin. Taelord shielded his eyes with one hand, his skin feeling like it was about to peel away at the intense heat. He kept his gaze on the ground, only looking up when he began to see sparks.
The burning home was right before them. Taelord threw his bucketful of water at the raging flames, and saw it practically turn to vapor in the air.
“More!” G’shar shouted.
“It’s no use!” Taelord called. He grabbed G’shar by the arm. “It’s gone!” he said, shouting to make himself heard over the flames. “Focus on the surrounding homes. Keep them wet.”
G’shar looked back at the burning home, and seemed to realize that Taelord was right. “Focus on the neighboring houses!” he called. “Keep the fire from spreading!” Around them, the dark shapes of others took up the cry.
Taelord and Rehs dashed back, got more water from Syafa – Taelord guessed the house had a well – and rushed to help.
The night passed in a haze of burning light, heat, and smoke. Finally, after what felt like hours, the fire began to burn itself out, every nearby building having been doused with water to keep the flames from spreading. Soon, the fire flickered to such a low level that they could attack it directly, throwing water on the flames or beating it with blankets and empty sacks.
At long last, when the eastern edge of the sky was becoming streaked with red and gold, nothing was left of the fire but a blackened, smoking ruin. The house was gone completely, only a few stones from the fireplace left standing. The rest was ash and soot.
Taelord’s arms burned from carrying water all night, and his skin prickled uncomfortably at every slight breath of wind. The muscles in his legs were tight, his feet hurt, and his eyes stung. When at last the fire was out, he didn’t even bother washing himself. He staggered to his bed in the storeroom, and fell onto it, falling asleep instantly.
It seemed like only a short while later that Taelord was pulled – grudgingly – from sleep by voices. They weren’t shouts, but there was anger in them. They came from the main room. Judging that it must be midmorning at least, he pulled himself from his bed, and stumbled to the door.
Upon opening it, he saw the whole family sitting at the table. They all looked up, paused mid-conversation.
“Taelord!” Syafa said, rising from her seat and leading him to a spot on the bench beside Rehs. “I’m sorry, we didn’t mean to wake you.” She gave G’shar a reproachful look, and went to the fire, where – as always – something was cooking.
Taelord slumped forward, crossing his arms and leaning them on the table. He could barely keep his eyelids open. “The fire,” he said, his words slurred with sleep. “Whose house was it?”
“Elet’s,” G’shar said. “A tanner.”
“And a loyalist,” Rehs added.
G’shar shot him a look.
“It’s true,” Rehs said. “He doesn’t even deny it. I’m surprised it took the rebels this long to get to him.”
Syafa placed a bowl of some sort of cooked grain before Taelord, and handed him a wooden spoon. He began to eat without question, his mind waking up as the food slid down his throat.
“So that’s why his house was burned?” he asked. “Because he supported the Empire?”
“Probably,” G’shar said, sighing. He glanced at Syafa, who returned his look with worry.
“What?” Taelord said, looking between them.
“The homes of other loyalists, here in the Maze, were burned as well,” G’shar said. “More of them,” he added. “Elet’s was merely the closest to us. At least five were completely destroyed. Three died in the fires – two women and a little boy.”
Taelord felt his skin prickle with cold.
“And…” G’shar said, “I’ve seen people watching the house. People I know have joined the rebels.”
“You mean… You mean this house?” Taelord said. “You think we’ll be next?”
G’shar grimaced. “I shouldn’t have spoken of peace at Einar’s meeting,” he said, shaking his head. “It was a stupid thing to do. I’m already considered a sympathizer, simply because I haven’t openly expressed my support of the rebellion. And now, with the homes of loyalists being burned…”
Syafa crossed to him, looking worried.
Taelord glanced at Rehs, and saw him glowering at his breakfast. His arms, like Taelord’s, were singed and blackened.
“What do we do?” Taelord said, turning back to G’shar.
“We leave,” he said. “As soon as we can. I’m going to the Docks again, and Rehs, I want you with me. We’ll fix the Windchaser if we have to work all night. We leave tomorrow morning. We’ll make for one of the remote southern villages in Braunglayde. Crevcor, perhaps. It’s very isolated.”
Tomorrow morning. They were running out of time. Taelord would need to speak to Runa right after he was finished eating. “I’ll come with you if I can,” he said. “On the Windchaser.”
“We’ll be glad to have you,” Syafa said. “What about the others though? Veth…”
“They’re gone,” Rehs said from the other end of the table. “Both of them. They helped put out the fire, and then never came back.”
“You saw them?” G’shar said.
Rehs nodded grimly.
G’shar sighed. “They’ve joined the rebels then,” he said. “Found a bed somewhere more sympathetic to their cause, and less likely to burst into flame.” He stood. “Rehs,” he said, heading for the door.
“I need to clean up,” Rehs said, raising his arms, which were smudged with soot.
“Fine,” G’shar said. “Meet me at the Docks as soon as you’re done.” He hugged Syafa, and then left through the door, Rehs following him with a bucket of water.
Taelord finished his breakfast as Rehs closed the door. “Where’s Aiiva?” he asked, realizing she wasn’t there.
“Sleeping,” Syafa said. “She stayed up practically the whole night, worrying that we’d be next.”
Taelord guessed his mother was still sleeping as well. He stood as Syafa took his bowl, and pulled open the door to the storeroom.
All four beds were empty. Fera was gone. He had been so drowsy that he hadn’t noticed her absence when he rose. He felt a sudden fear. Where was she?