Royal Mage

Brand new, never-before-seen chapters of book two in the Firecaller series, Royal Mage. 

Royal Mage starts where we left our travelers at the end of Fire Mage - at the home of Argus's master, Remus the shrinking mage. 

Jena, Nate, Bree and Argus are on a journey to find out more about their destiny. But first, they'll have to battle monsters, overcome evils, and find the truth among the lies being told to the kingdom. 

Read on to find out more... 

CHAPTER 31 - JENA 

Jena desperately scrambled about near the campfire, trying to pull out sufficient flames to create a fireball that would damage the barker lions, who were flickering about menacingly overhead. She muttered the words of the spell she needed under her breath, trying not to draw too much attention. Her magic surged inside her, and the fire merged into one spitting ball of flames. A barker lion was hovering nearby, distracted by three Utugani warriors with spears. She didn’t even hesitate, throwing the fireball at the creature. The ball of flames hit dead centre, and burned through its body. The creature gave a garbled screech, and then fell to the ground, dead before it landed.

The warriors turned to Jena, startled.

She stared back, knowing she’d just given herself away. Her blood pounded in her veins. If any of these warriors told the wrong person, she was dead. No one would blame them if they threw a spear through her heart right now. A woman who cast spells was an abomination.

Instead, they nodded grimly, then ran off to help someone else. She stared after them, wondering what else they'd seen that her powers didn't even faze them. Would they-

A piercing scream filled the air nearby and Jena jumped, startled out of her thoughts. The noise and furore of the battle around her filled her senses again and she looked around. People were still running between the tents, Utugani warriors crept through the campsite, stalking the wolvans, their faces grim. They would all die if she couldn't do more to save them. She had to gather more flames. 

She moved closer to the campfire again, muttering the same spell a second time, trying to draw more of the flames out of the dying embers. 

Rothell flew by over head, chasing a barker lion, its high pitched squeals panicked as she closed in on it. A rush of wind from her wings pushed Jena's hair off her face, and she raised one hand to protect her eyes from the dust that swirled up. The air made sparks fly from the fire, and the flames were pushed higher again. She gathered the flames to her hands, creating another ball of fire. Then she looked around. Where best to use it? 

The growl of a wolvan sounded nearby, and Jena moved quickly. Flame filled hands held out in front, she raced toward a gap between a caravan and a tent, and came up from behind on a wolvan. Up close, the creature was enormous, its back as high as a person, long mottled fur and paws the size of Jena's head. 

It could have killed Jena with one swipe. 

She swallowed hard. The wolvan was distracted, fighting off six Utugani warriors, each with a spear. There were two more warriors lying dead nearby, their bodies torn apart. The warriors were desperately guarding a tent that Jena immediately recognized. It was the Utugan's tent, where they'd met him only this morning. It felt like a hundred years ago. 

Her heart stopped. Bree was in there, along with the Utugan and his youngest daughter. She had no choice, she had to stop this creature. 

She flicked through the Book of Spells, but it had very little more to say on the wolvans than what was immediately obvious to Jena as she crouched just behind this one. Large, powerful. Focused on its target. No mercy, no thought. It was smellier than she'd expected, like the smell of a wet, long haired dog, only a hundred times worse. 

She crept forward, trying to figure out the best way to use her ball of flames on the wolvan. Throw it at its middle? It's head? It was hard to know where it would be weakest. It looked rugged and tough everywhere on its body.

Before she even had a chance to throw the ball of light, the wolvan turned suddenly, and leaped toward her, jaws full of snarling teeth. Jena tripped and fell backward, landing painfully on her buttocks. Air whooshed out of her lips, and she had no time to think anything. She just threw the ball of flames at the wolvan, aiming for the neck and chest. She pushed the fire ball harder than she would usually, and the flames burned through fur, to the skin of the creature, and into its chest. She screamed out a barrier spell, using the air around her to create a protection for her as the wolvan fell on top of her. It was dead before it hit the barrier and slid to the ground. 

Breathing heavily, Jena scrambled backward, barely able to comprehend what just happened. She looked up and one of the Utugani warriors ran over to her. 

"You are a brave woman," he said, helping her to her feet. He had a claw mark down one arm, and was bleeding from a gash on his forehead. 

Jena nodded and winced as she stood back on her feet, wishing she felt brave. She just felt scared. And worried that their efforts wouldn't be enough. Even now, her magic was a distant flame compared to what it had been. She'd used up too much, on too little. "How many wolvans have you seen so far?" she asked, her voice uneven. 

"Too many," he replied. "For every one that we kill, another appears." 

Jena could only look up at him, see the truth in his dark brown eyes. They needed to do something drastic or they were all going to die. 

"Do you wish to go into the tent with the others? I will tell them of your bravery. My brothers and I will protect you as best we can." 

Jena glanced over at the remaining warriors. They all looked exhausted, like they'd been fighting for hours. There was no safety in this situation, even inside that tent. "I'm more useful out here," she said.  

He nodded in understanding. "You're probably right. Your flames saved us," he said. He bowed, and ran back to his position in front of the tent. 

Jena hesitated for a moment, staring around at the devastation. Smoke and fire filled the air, shouts and screams could still be heard over the growls and screeches of the creatures that were still attacking the camp. She flicked through the spell book in her head, frantically trying to find something that would help. Nothing seemed quite enough. 

They needed to change what they were doing. They wouldn't win if they continued to fight in the same way. It wasn't working, and it wouldn't magically start to work. 

And that's when she felt it. The terrifying warmth of a fire so big, it couldn’t possibly be contained. She ran down the alleyway between the tent and the caravan, looking for the source, hoping against hope that it wasn’t yet another fire creature they would have to somehow fight. Fear surged inside her, and she wondered if something worse than barker lions and wolvans had just been unleashed on them. 

Except she had a feeling she knew who it was. 

Nate. 

She'd felt his firecaller flames before. Her stomach churned at the thought. He was on their side, but his power was so untamed, so wild, and Nate hadn't yet figured out how to control it. 

The last time he'd set it free, he'd killed an entire camp of hardened mercenaries. 

Jena had walked through the camp after Nate had burned them all to ash. She’d seen what he’d done, and knew the kind of power it would take to control magic like that. It was a level of control Nate didn't have, not yet. 

If he unleashed his powers now, there was a strong chance they could all die, right here, today. Everything they'd fought against, everything that had happened would be for nothing. 

Her breathing was ragged and her brain stuttered to a halt as she tried to figure out what to do. But there was only one thing she could do. She ran in the direction of Nate, to see if she could help. Perhaps if she was there, he might not kill everyone in sight? 

Or perhaps he’d just kill her along with everyone else.

There was no more time. Rothell roared overhead as if she agreed, and another barker lion fell from the sky, dead. If it had just been the barker lions, perhaps they might have been okay, but Jena had glimpsed another wolvan as she’d raced away from the Utugan's tent, and she was sure there was something else lurking in the shadows. She sensed, rather than saw it, but she knew it was bad, whatever it was. Jena ran in the direction where she’d last seen Nate.

She rounded a corner of a caravan and came face to face with a barker lion that had cornered three children and a woman against a tent. This close, the barker lion was twice Jena’s height, with sinewy strength in its multitude of legs. Its wings beat lazily as if it had all the time in the world to kill its prey. The Utugani woman stood in front of the children, protecting them from the barker lion with nothing more than an old wooden broom. Her long black hair was flying everywhere around her face, and she looked like she was about to head out to battle. She was planning protect the children with everything she had.

"Hey, over here," yelled Jena, waving her arms at the barker lion. It turned its head, the golden orb-eyes reflecting the fires in the distance. Its wings flickered uncertainly, like it didn't know what to make of her. Then is snarled, showing large, sharp teeth. 

Jena muttered a spell under her breath, and a line of flames burned out from her hands. She hit the barker lion in one of its strange golden eyes, and the creature screamed, stumbling backward. 

The Utugani woman leaped forward and jabbed the broom handle deep into the creature’s other eye. Her whole body trembled with the effort of shoving the stick as far into the creature’s head as possible. The barker lion tensed, then shuddered and fell to the ground, dead. 

It was a quick and dirty death, and it only worked because the barker lion had been distracted. But it was dead. Jena breathed out a relieved sigh. “Take the children, run that way,” she said, pointing in the opposite direction to where she felt Nate's flames. “Hide if you can.”

“Thank you,” whispered the woman, her eyes saying more than her words could. 

“Just go. Hurry,” said Jena, gesturing with her hand. The woman gathered the children around her and ran.

Jena kept running toward Nate. With every step, she could feel the burn of his power getting stronger, brighter. He really was going to set it free. She wondered if he was doing it on purpose. She stumbled, and almost fell, only just righting herself in time. She could still hear the yells of the Utugani as they fought all around the campsite. The air was choked with smoke and fear. Rothell flew overhead, her magic scales shimmering. Flames burst from her mouth and a barker lion screamed.

Jena crouched low, trying to avoid being seen by any of the attacking creatures. She could probably fight of one or two of the barker lions, but she was afraid it would use up too much of her magic, and she had a feeling she’d need everything inside her to deal with Nate and his Firecaller powers. Was she making a mistake by returning to him? She didn't know. She was just following her gut, and it led her straight back to Nate. 

If she helped Nate, and he managed to control his power, then he could take on all these creatures by himself. She knew it. It would all be over. 

A burst of flames went up into the sky just ahead of where she was, on the other side of a tent that was half collapsed. Jena gasped as the heat burned at her skin. She turned away, holding her arm over her face. Her scars tightened in remembered pain, and she almost growled with the effort to stay where she was.

Nate. It had to be. He’d released his Firecaller magic.

There was a strong chance he’d burn her to a crisp, just like those mercenaries. She could still smell the burning flesh. He wouldn’t mean to do it, and he would be horrified when he came back into his real self, but it could happen. 

She paused, trying to figure out what she should do.

In the distance a woman screamed in terror. A wolvan roared in triumph. 

She had no choice. Jena took a breath and ran on, directly toward Nate. 

CHAPTER 32 - NATE 

Hold it steady, on. Don’t let it go. 

Nate couldn’t help it. He growled. “What the hell do you think I’m trying to do?” he said to Thornal, out loud, like a madman talking to the voices in his head. The flames burned inside him, and outside of him, an inferno of heat and flames and devastation. The power was immense, everywhere around him. He was terrified he’d let go, that he wouldn’t be able to control it after all. That he’d burn every man, woman and child from the Utugani campsite to ash. Bile rose up and burned the inside of his throat and the flames around him flashed brighter. 

Just concentrate. Keep it controlled. 

He swallowed hard. “I thought you said you’d be able to help me,” he muttered, his entire focus on his battle with the flames. “Not just offer idiotic suggestions.” His whole body felt like it was being ripped apart, his skin stretched tight over his flesh, his insides rubbed raw. The magic was coarse and unfiltered, but so, so powerful. The flames battered and pushed at his defenses, eager and confident that they would gain control. The magic was practically strutting about like a rooster on a farm, preening itself and herding its hens, it was so sure Nate was going to let go. 

The firecaller magic thought it was going to burn everything and everyone in its path. Nate could see it inside his head, the flames devouring everyone, including Jena. Especially Jena. Somehow the flames knew that she was important to Nate, and they focused their magic on her, like burning her would somehow connect her more tightly to him. They surged in anticipation, the flames burning higher and hotter and more powerful than anything Nate had experienced before. 

They weren’t this powerful when he’d let them kill all the mercenaries. They’d never felt like this before, and something inside Nate broke. He wasn’t strong enough to control them. He should never have let them free. 

Nate screamed. It felt like the only way to express everything that was happening. The sound reverberated around him, its echoes bouncing off the tents and caravans nearby. The flames seemed to lap it up, to enjoy the painful rawness of the sound. 

This is no time to lose control. 

“No kidding,” said Nate, his teeth gritted. 

Have you ever tried to knit? asked Thornal. 

“This is not the fucking time for your ridiculousness,” growled Nate. The flames around him licked at his face, his arms. They softened, almost caressing him. It was like they’d changed tactic, and had decided to seduce him instead of overpowering him. 

Humor me. Thornal’s voice was grim. 

“Knitting. Okay. Using pointed sticks?” Nate could feel the beads of sweat dripping down his face, and he knew he didn’t have long. He couldn’t believe he was talking about knitting with a dead mage inside his own head. He wished he was anywhere but here. 

Yes. 

“Then no. I’ve never tried it. But one of my old nursemaids used to do it. I watched her.” 

You need to do that. Knit everything together. Use the strands of magic to weave a greater, more cohesive whole. One that you control. 

“That sounds great. But how?” 

I’ve never experienced Firecaller magic before, not like this. But even I can feel the strands. If you take a breath and stop panicking like a baby, you will too. 

Nate desperately wanted to argue about whether or not he was acting like a baby, but he knew Thornal was right. He needed to focus. 

He closed his eyes and looked for the strands Thornal was going on about. Once he knew what to look for, they were obvious. Lines of burning flame within the whole. A pattern amongst the chaos. 

He could knit them all together. Or at least, he could do something like it to get these flames under control. He doubted his nursemaid would call it knitting. He closed his eyes, and let his consciousness expand out, to the flames engulfing him, to the magic that surrounded him. 

The strands were everywhere, crossing over, intersecting. He tried to pull them together, to fold them over each other, like his nursemaid used to do, but they resisted. They fought him. The strands didn’t want to be woven together. They wanted to burn uncontrolled through the whole campsite, devouring everything in their path. They didn’t want to be constrained, tied together. He snarled, pulling out the sound from somewhere deep inside, and focused everything he had into controlling the flames. Dominating them. 

He needed to create a woven blanket of flames. He needed to rule them in every sense, to make them bow to his superior power. 

Except the flames kept fighting him. They pushed him away, fought against him with everything they had. Nate stretched and strained, pushing this way and that, but he couldn’t quite manage to force them into the pattern he wanted. 

“Nate!”

The voice made him jump, startled. He turned and saw Jena standing in front of him, small and fragile, the burns on her face and hands like a beacon to the powerful flames inside him. For a second, the flames surged and he battled the urge to just blast his fire at her, to burn her to cinders, to smell the glorious scent of newly created ash. He felt like he was breaking in two, that acid filled his body instead of blood as he fought the craving brought on by the firecaller flames inside him. His whole body was tight with resistance; so tight, he thought he might break into a million pieces. 

Hold onto it, Nate. Hold it tight! said Thornal, his voice desperate. He could tell how close to the edge Nate was. Tell her to run. 

“No,” said Nate, through gritted teeth. “I need to control this power. I can’t let it control me.” 

“You can control it, Nate, I know you can,” said Jena, her eyes full of confidence in him. She looked beautiful in the glowing light of his flames, brave and strong, her long hair flowing back off her face. 

“They’re so powerful,” he said, forcing the words out of his mouth. 

“So are you,” she said. 

She looked so relaxed and sure, something inside Nate eased. The tension that had been gripping him softened. She was right. He was powerful. Not in the way his grandfather had expected, but it was there. “My grandfather always said—”

“You need to find your own magic, find your power, Nate. This isn’t about anyone else, or any other power. Your firecaller ability is unique to you. No one else can do it, except you.” Her words went straight to his heart, to the center of his being. She was right. He was the only one who could do this. He needed to find the way that worked best for him. 

So he relaxed his tight grip on the flames. Instead of using panicked control, he allowed his magic become fluid, like the liquid metal the smithies used to create their swords. Strong, but malleable. The flames reacted by becoming more settled, more calm. Their blistering energy still crackled, but it wasn’t so out of control. 

“I feel it,” whispered Nate. “I feel the flames. They’re pleased that I’m not fighting them any more.” 

Jena nodded, like she’d known all along. “The firecaller magic is inside you,” she said. “It’s a part of you. It’s not an enemy to fight and overcome, it’s a piece of you. You have to love the magic like you love any other part of yourself, like your legs for holding you up or your hands for feeding you.”   Her eyes dug into his soul and forced him to listen to what she was saying.

Nate lifted his arms. It made sense now. He’d been so used to controlling and dominating the demons, to forcing them to do his will, he’d thought that was how it needed to work with the firecaller flames as well. But the flames were inside him, and they were a reflection of his own emotions, his own thoughts. The more angry and fearful he became, the worse the flames had reacted, the angrier they were. The more calm and relaxed he was, the closer the flames were to his heart center. The more they loved him, and wanted to do his every will. He sent out feelings of love and acceptance to the flames around him, imagined wrapping them inside his arms, and telling them he’d always look after him. 

And the flames became his. They literally melted at the attention he was giving them. 

He let out a breath. He finally understood how to rule them: with love and compassion. It was the opposite of everything he’d learned about magic; against everything he’d expected from a power like the firecaller flames; it opposed everything he’d thought he understood up to this point. 

You’ve done it, Nate. I’m proud of you. 

The flames surged higher, engulfing him, whispering to him. Loving him. It felt strange and off-balance, and part of him felt like he wouldn’t know how to cope. He wasn’t used to unconditional love. He’d never had it in his family, and he’d never had it with his friends. The demons didn’t love him. The ghosts only wanted to use him. 

Then he looked down at Jena, who was watching him with those eyes. Unwavering, strong. “Come on, let’s go fight those creatures,” he said to her. He’d tell her later that she was the only reason he’d been able to control the flames. That she’d saved them all with her confidence and her eyes. 

Jena grinned, relief visible across her face. “Damn right,” she said. 

CHAPTER 33 - NATE 

Nate sprinted back into the main part of the campsite, right behind Jena. He was glowing, and it was visible even in the late afternoon light. But it didn’t matter. No one was watching him, not yet. They were all fighting for their survival. 

A wolvan appeared around the corner of a tent, and Nate blasted it with his fiery magic before it could even snarl. 

Well done, now get the rest of them, said Thornal. 

“I’m working on it,” Nate muttered under his breath. 

Jena stepped to the side. “I think maybe you need to go first,” she said. “I don’t want to get accidentally blasted.” 

“Good idea,” said Nate. It’d be easier to protect her. Not that he was going to say that out loud to Jena. She wouldn’t appreciate the sentiment. 

No, she’s independent, that’s for sure. You’re going to have to be careful with her. 

He strode ahead of Jena, ignoring Thornal’s words, his focus on digging out the remaining creatures before anyone else was hurt. A barker lion decided to swoop down and attack from above. He lifted one hand and incinerated it. His flames flowed over him, pleased to be of service. 

Screams broke out just ahead of where they were. “Come on,” he said to Jena, and started running again. He didn’t need to look to know she was right behind him. She never backed down from a fight. 

If you’re going to romance her, I mean. 

“I understood what you meant. It just didn’t seem the right time to be discussing it,” whispered Nate. There would never be a good time to discuss attempting to romance Jena with Thornal. 

That’s a very short-sighted attitude. I have many insights into her personality that would help you. 

“Why would you help me?” said Nate under his breath, even as he scanned the skies overhead. 

She deserves happiness. You both do. And finding someone to love would bring her that. 

And then there was no more time for conversation. They burst into the central campfire area, and discovered carnage. There were bodies everywhere. Blood. Flesh. Screams. But there were still people fighting, still resisting. Nate recognized Eldrin fighting one of two enormous wolvans, alongside three other Utugani warriors. He didn’t even hesitate. He ran right into the battle. His flames surged up and out, twisting and burning, delighted to be released. 

The wolvan was about to swipe at one of the Utugani warriors with one enormous paw. Nate thrust out his burning hot flames and the wolvan was instantly burned to ashes. Eldrin turned, his eyes wide with shock. Nate blasted the second wolvan, and it didn’t even get to make a sound before it disintegrated. Ash and sparks rose up around them, like a mini tornado of death. 

 “Where are the rest of the creatures?” asked Nate, his voice cracking in the middle. Fire and heat surrounded him, and he could only just see his friends. 

“I don’t—I don’t know,” said Eldrin shakily. Like maybe he thought he’d been about to die, and now he wasn’t. 

“Where’s everyone else?” asked Jena, looking around in a panic at all the bodies. “Where’s Bree?” 

“In the Utugan’s tent. They’re all in there, surrounded by guards. We were trying to lead these two away.” He shook his head, his ash-and-blood-stained face devoid of his usual carefree expression. 

“There are more creatures in the camp,” said Nate. “We have to hurry.” 

“How do you know?” 

“I can feel them. Through the flames.” 

“Then let’s go get them,” said Jena grimly. Her eyes glowed with the reflection of Nate’s flames. 

“I’m coming with you,” said Eldrin. He nodded at one of the other surviving guards. “Go back to my father’s tent. Help the others. We’ll be there soon.” 

The other warriors each gave him a quick nod, and ran off. Eldrin turned to Nate. “We need to find every single one of these gods-forsaken creatures and incinerate them.” His face was dark with anger. 

“Then let’s go.” 

Nate strode away in the opposite direction from where the warriors had just disappeared. He was tempted to go stand in front of the Utugan’s tent with the others, but he’d focused his magic on the remaining creatures and there were several of them in various places around the campsite. The wolvans were easy to find, their magical signature was loud and angry, and completely focused. They were also the creatures most likely to kill the most people. 

They found another one attacking a caravan that held a family huddling inside. Nate didn’t even have to get close enough for the wolvan to be a threat. It burned quickly, leaving only ashes and the faint smell of wet fur. 

Jena opened the caravan door, and spoke quickly to one of the adults inside, telling them to stay where they were. It was safer than having them roaming the campsite, falling into harm’s way. 

“How many more?” asked Jena when she’d shut the door again. Her face was covered in ash, and she looked grim. 

“I can feel three more.” Nate turned his head. “That way.” He ran in the direction he’d indicated, determined to kill the creatures before anyone else could be hurt. And before he lost control of his flames. 

There were more wolvans than he’d ever seen in once place. If he didn’t have his firecaller flames, they would never have survived this encounter. When Argus had saved him from wolvans, the plan had been all about escape, not standing up to the creatures. The barker lions had suffered under Rothell’s attacks, and only one or two still roamed the skies. But there was another creature in the camp that was silently killing people. Nate could sense it. It was a fire creature that hid in the shadows, its flames burning inside its eyes. It was smarter than the wolvans, it took its time and hunted its prey. Nate was determined to find it and kill it before it killed anyone else. 

But first he was going to kill the remaining wolvans. 

They found another wolvan ripping a tent apart, and Nate sent his flames rippling over its body, turning it to dust, sparks twisting and turning into the air above them. He swayed a little, his head spinning with fire and magic. He’d felt confident about his control over the flames not so long ago. Now he wasn’t so sure. The flames were a part of him, strong and powerful, and he realized the balance of control was much finer than he’d thought. They were close to the surface, lovingly coating him in their burning magic, a swirling inferno that made it hard to think. His perceptions of what was good and what was bad were being tipped sideways. He only just managed to pull the flames back into his body, so they couldn’t burn down the tent. He could feel the people inside the tent, and knew his flames would have just as happily have devoured them as well. 

At first, he’d simply enjoyed the feeling of destroying the wolvans, watching their bodies being incinerated under his burning hot flames, becoming nothing more than ash. But now, he felt manic, half crazed by the need to burn everything around him. The flames were changing how he viewed things, and it frightened him. It wasn’t just a matter of being in control of them, or figuring out how to love them. 

The flames were integrating themselves into his whole body, into his mind. They didn’t think like people. They were pleased to be burning living creatures and they wanted more. They didn’t discriminate, they didn’t care who it was. They just needed to burn, to incinerate, to destroy. Nate swallowed hard and concentrated on holding back the flames. “There are people in the tent,” he said through gritted teeth, only just managing to get the words out. 

Jena glanced at him, worry clear on her face, but she didn’t say a word. She raced over to the tent, closely followed by Eldrin, and the two of them pulled back the heavy material. They discovered two women and three children huddling inside. They were shaking in reaction, their eyes wide with shock. 

“I’ll take them to my father’s tent,” said Eldrin. 

Nate nodded. He didn’t want them to be left alone right now either. “I’ll kill the other wolvans. But be careful, there’s another creature just as deadly roaming around. Don’t deviate. Go straight to the Utugan’s tent.” 

Eldrin nodded, then gathered the others behind him. “We’ll see you at the tent soon,” he said. They ran off, Nate watching for a moment. He couldn’t sense any of the creatures between Eldrin and the Utugan’s tent, but he wanted to make sure. 

“Come on,” said Jena. “We have to find the other wolvans… And this creature you’re talking about.” She looked up into the sky. “I think Rothell has taken care of all the barker lions.” 

Nate nodded, and grasped her hand. He needed the comfort right now. She tensed up, her entire body going still. Nate’s flames roared inside him, like a predator sensing prey. His reality swirled, and for a second he was more flames than person. Then Jena relaxed, and the flames subsided. She tightened her grip on Nate’s hand, and he let out a breath of warm air. He needed the feeling of her skin against his to help him remember who he was. 

Nate took another deep breath and then led Jena down the closest alleyway toward the next wolvan, clutching her hand like he would drown if he let go.  

That’s it, Nate. Get her used to being close to you. 

Nate managed to ignore Thornal’s comment—how could the old mage think about anything other than getting the flames under control?—and keep his main focus on the next wolvan. 

And on the warmth of Jena’s hand in his, if he was honest. But mostly on the wolvan. 

They turned a corner, and there it was. The wolvan had blood all over its muzzle and was tearing apart the body of an utugani warrior. Nate slammed his fiery magic into its chest without even hesitating. The wolvan went up in flames, gone before it could even look up from its meal. Nate tried not to look too closely at the mangled body of the warrior, in case it was someone he knew. Except he couldn’t help it. He recognized the young face of one of the warriors who’d first met them outside of the Utugani camp. He stumbled and caught himself on the nearby tent pole. He felt numb. He knew who to blame for sending these creatures. Lothar still wanted him dead. 

Which meant it was his fault that so many of these people had died here today. 

“One to go,” whispered Jena. Her face was pale and her eyes were no longer confident. They just held the reflection of death and destruction. 

Nate just felt cold. Like he was detached from the world. Even the flames couldn’t seem to warm him up. He knew he’d be battered and bruised tomorrow, but right now he couldn’t feel anything. The firecaller flames, which had felt so overwhelming and powerful not so long ago, couldn’t reach him. This was too much. Too many people had died here today. 

“Is this all because of us?” whispered Nate. “Is this because we didn’t give in to Lothar and let him have what he wanted?” 

Jena rounded on him, her eyes flashing. She grabbed both his arms. “No. Never that. This isn’t our fault. Lothar is a monster.” 

“We put these people in harm’s way.” 

“Lothar would have killed and destroyed everyone here a thousand times over, even if we never came here.” 

“But—”

“It’s in his nature. It’s what he does. And we’re the only people who can stop him.” 

Nate nodded. “Okay.” It was exactly what he’d needed to hear. “Then let’s go kill the rest of these fuckers.”

CHAPTER 34 - JENA

The wolvans didn’t stand a chance. Not when Nate could destroy them with one blast from his magic. Except Jena could tell that the magic was taking a toll on Nate. His eyes… didn’t seem the same as they’d been before they’d come back into the campsite and faced the horror of the wolvans. 

The flames were consuming him, just like they were consuming the wolvans. 

The last wolvan didn’t even look up before it was burned to ashes by Nate. 

“Should we go back to the tent? Check on the others?” suggested Jena. She was worried about him. She looked at his face, trying to figure out how close to the edge he was, to see if the flames were controlling his actions. Her hand was still clutched in Nate’s, like she was some kind of life-line he needed to keep him connected to this world. 

“There’s still something else hanging around. Something dangerous,” said Nate. “I can sense it. It’s smarter than the other creatures. It’s biding its time, waiting for the right moment.” 

Jena shivered. The wolvans were bad enough. “What’s it going to do? Who is it going after?” 

Nate shrugged. “Us, probably.” 

“That’s not helpful, Nate,” growled Jena. She was starting to get worried by the expression on Nate’s face. He looked… unconcerned. Distant. 

Like they hadn’t just seen half the camp destroyed by monsters. 

“I can sense where it is. Come on, we have to act fast before it does something terrible,” he said, more urgently this time. 

Jena felt relief that at least he could feel something. 

She followed him through the alley way between a couple of tents, still clutching Nate’s hand. She didn’t know who wanted the contact more at this point, but it seemed to calm both of them down, so she didn’t even consider pulling her hand out of his. Nate slowed down, and then stopped at the edge of a corner, peering out, searching the shadows. She could feel his body shaking through their connected hands. 

“It’s close,” he whispered. 

Jena nodded, too afraid to speak. She searched the spell book for something that might help against an unknown creature, but all she could come up with were more fire spells. Her ability to think under pressure had been burned up alongside the last wolvan that Nate had destroyed. She felt too shaky, too battered by the assault on both her body and her emotions. All the death and destruction around her was too much. So many people had died here today it took all she had to just stay standing here, holding Nate’s hand. 

And then she heard it. 

A low murmuring, like several voices talking, on the edge of her hearing. It felt like something was calling to her, telling her to come closer. She took a step forward without thinking about it, wanting to do whatever the voices told her to do. Nate was a step ahead of her, moving in the same direction. 

Then her instincts kicked in. Whatever was calling to them wasn’t a friend. It was likely to be the monster that Nate had sensed. Even as she took another step forward, Jena frantically searched the book for spells for something to block her hearing, then muttered it quickly under her breath. The air thickened around her ears, dulling all sound. She clutched Nate’s hand tighter, and tried to pull him back toward her. “Nate, it’s using its voice to lure—” 

Nate yanked his hand out of hers and stepped forward, out into the path between the tents. He didn’t even look back at her. 

“Nate, stop.” Jena tried to grab his arm, to drag him back, but he was stronger than she was. He shook free of her, and kept walking like she was nothing more than an annoying insect. His magic pulsed around them, like it was trying to fight whatever was happening, but couldn’t quite overcome the murmuring. 

Jena searched for something in the Book of Spells that would block Nate’s hearing as well. She couldn’t just block his ears like she had her own, it had been a self-spell, meaning it could only be used on the mage who was casting it. And Nate had already moved too far away from her for one of the other spells she’d found. She peered out the side of the tent, considering just running out and jumping on Nate’s back. Where was the creature that was calling to them? The hairs on her skin were all raised, like her body could sense the discordant presence of whatever was calling to Nate. It was out there, she knew it. But where? 

She couldn’t see anything at first. Nate seemed to be walking reluctantly toward an empty space. Except when she turned sideways, and happened to glance out of the corner of her eyes, she saw it, flickering in the edges of her sight like maybe it wasn’t real. 

The creature had the boney black head of a goat and large horns that curled off its long head, eyes that burned with flames, and a cadaverous person-shaped body clothed in ragged black robes. Its hands were long and thin, and it had a sneer on its strange animal-like face. She could feel the dark energy emanating off it in waves, thick and unpleasant. If she looked at it straight on, it disappeared into the shadows. She could only see it through the corners of her eyes, like some kind of terrifying nightmare hiding in plain sight. 

Its lips were moving, murmuring the words of whatever chant it was using to keep Nate stuck inside its magic. Nate took another step forward, enthralled, his flames flickering in his hands. His magic flared, and his flames momentarily burned higher in the air around him. His magic was trying to fight the creature, but it wasn’t working. Nate kept taking slow steps forward. 

Jena reluctantly moved out from behind the tent, desperately trying to decide what she should do. Jumping on Nate to stop him from walking seemed like she might just get burned for her efforts. But she knew she had to disrupt things somehow. She muttered the first spell she could think of, and suddenly a wind swept through the alley, making their clothes lift and the tents all flap around the edges. It was enough to cover the sound of the murmuring for a moment or two, and Nate looked back over his shoulder at Jena, his eyes suddenly normal again. 

“Run, Jena,” he said, his lips moving distinctly, making gestures with his arms, telling her to leave him to his fate. Jena only understood what he’d said because he’d said the words so dramatically. And then the wind died down again and his gaze shifted back to the creature in front of him. He took another step forward, away from where she stood. The creature’s eyes lit up, and its lips started to move faster and faster, like it was amping up its chanting. Jena couldn’t hold in the sob that had been trapped in her throat. 

She had to do something more. 

If she couldn’t block Nate’s ears using the same spell she’d just used, then she needed to do something else. The opposite of what she’d done for herself. She flicked through the pages of the spell book until she had what she needed. 

Jena started murmuring under her breath, following the spell’s words to the letter. Her magic flared inside her, expanding all around her, becoming bigger and stronger. Nate took three more steps toward the creature, and Jena chanted faster. She didn’t have much time. It had to work or she was going to lose Nate to whatever dark magic this monster was using on him. 

And then suddenly, her magic hit the crescendo she was after. A loud boom of vibration, like thunder and lighting combined, echoed around all three of them. The sound echoed, and echoed again, creating a heavy vibration that Jena could feel even through the spell covering her ears. 

The sound blocked the chanting from the creature, and Nate blinked, his eyes flickering with his flames again, then shook his head. He looked toward Jena, and then back at the creature who was standing only a few feet away. His expression hardened. 

The creature tried to turn and run, but Nate was faster. He lifted one hand and his flames came flying out of his body, burning the creature where it stood. As Jena watched, its mouth opened and it screamed in rage, the jaws filled with the sharp teeth of a predator. Flames covered its whole body, burning it so quickly it didn’t even have time to take a step away. 

Out in the alley way, Nate stumbled, and then collapsed into a heap. 

CHAPTER 35 - JENA 

“Wake up Nate,” Jena whispered as she knelt down next to Nate’s limp body. She placed her hands firmly on either side of his face, hoping the contact might make him wake up. 

Nothing. 

He was as still and limp as… She didn’t want to finish that thought. “You have to wake up,” she said, louder and more forcefully. Tears blurred her vision as she leaned in close. He looked so lifeless. As if he wasn’t there any more. A sob worked its way up her throat. 

Was this the end of their journey? 

Had Lothar won after all? 

What would they—

She gave her head and shoulders a quick shake and determinedly pushed away the panicky thoughts. Fear would get her nowhere. Putting her hand on his chest, she felt for the telltale rise and fall as he breathed. Relief surged through her and the tightness in her body eased as his chest lifted under her palm. It was shallow, but definitely there. 

He was alive. Now she just needed to wake him up. 

She touched his arm, and shook it lightly, as if that would somehow get through to him. His eyes fluttered but he didn’t wake. Even worse, his Firecaller magic felt… off. This close, the discordant hum of the flames coursing through his body was making the hairs on her arms rise up. She was edgy and itchy and knew it was a reaction to whatever was going on with his powers. 

It was like there was a lightning storm brewing inside his chest, fighting its way into the world. She shivered. If the magic was that strong from the outside, what was happening to him inside? 

Had he used too much of it at one time? Or were the flames fighting for control? 

She knew that had been one of his biggest fears around using his firecaller abilities again. She tightened her grip on his arms, and tried to lend him her strength. He needed help. 

What she really needed was to get him to Bree; her sister would know what to do. She tried to pull him up to sitting, but he was surprisingly heavy. A creature howled in the distance, and her whole body tensed. There were more wolvans out there? A little sound, somewhere between a hiccup and a sob came out of her mouth. What was she going to do? She couldn’t leave Nate by himself, but he was too heavy to carry. 

She looked around, desperately hoping for a solution. “Hello? Someone help me!” She yelled the words into the air around her, desperation overcoming her fear of drawing in another wolvan. “I’m over here, I need help!” She waited for someone to appear. Smoke filled the air, and the acrid scent of burning dog hair made her cover her nose with her arm. In the distance she could hear crying and a tent canvas flapping in the wind. Further away, she heard another howl, and her whole body chilled. 

Perhaps unsurprisingly, no one came to help.

She couldn’t blame them. The monsters were still out there, and most Utugani didn’t have the means to defend themselves. So many people were lying dead and mauled around the tents. What had once seemed a beautiful and peaceful campsite was now a place of nightmares. 

Which meant no one was coming to help, and she had to figure this out on her own. 

With a growl, Jena pushed herself to standing and put her hands underneath Nate’s armpits. Placing her feet square, she pulled backward with a grunt. She put everything she had into dragging his inert body. Stepping slowly and unsteadily, she managed to pull him about two or three cart lengths in the dirt, gasping for breath and struggling with every step. Arms screaming, legs burning, she set him back down on the ground, huffing out breaths. He was much heavier than he looked. His tall, lean body was solid muscle, and right now he was more like a sack of potatoes than a person. She looked down at his slack face, wishing he’d magically wake up.  

She looked into the skies. Rothell was up there somewhere, maybe she could help. Rothell? I need you. She said the words in her head, hoping against hope. 

Another howl sounded across the camp. I am a little busy right now. There’s a wolvan attacking me. Rothell’s voice was unconcerned but distracted. She had her hands full. There was no way Jena would tell her to leave a wolvan to its own devices and come save Nate instead. 

No worries, she replied. Stay safe, Rothell. 

She searched the book of spells, flicking through the pages, wishing she had an obvious solution. She needed a cart to carry him in, but there was no way to build a cart from magic. She’d even take a second person to take his legs while she carried his top half. But she couldn’t just magically call anyone to her either. Well, anyone other than Rothell and Nate. 

Jena looked down at Nate’s unconscious body again. If she couldn’t get help, and she couldn’t make a cart, what could she do? 

She could make a cart go faster, turn mud into honey, and even create a fire ball, none of which were useful right now. Nate started tossing and turning on the ground, his face twisting like he was in pain. The sense of urgency she’d been feeling increased tenfold, and Jena started flicking more quickly through the book of spells, trying to find a solution. 

Maybe she needed to switch things up, like she’d done before. Turn her problem on its head. If she couldn’t find something to help carry Nate at his current weight, maybe she could make him lighter, so he’d be easier to carry? A bubble or a bird to fly under him? The thought made her flick through the book another time, sure she’d seen something recently that might work. 

“Yes,” she said triumphantly as she found a spell for helping stonemasons building the stone walls of castles. It was supposed to be for stones the size of a head, but surely that would be fine? The spell needed small stones, some mud and some casting to work, but it would make Nate lighter for a short period of time—long enough for her to get him to the Utugan’s tent. She reread the instructions and felt a flicker of concern when she read that it was supposed to be for stones and not people. But one look at Nate’s pained expression convinced her. She was running out of time and options. 

She needed to get Nate to Bree. Right now. 

Jena scrambled about in the dirt, picking up stones—seven—for the spell. She made mud using dirt and a water flask she found nearby. Then she crouched over Nate and began speaking the words of the spell. Murmuring to herself, she sprinkled the mud and the stones evenly around his body, using the power inside her to infuse her words with the magic she needed. Nate groaned and his eyes flickered as the power rose around them, but he didn’t wake up. He was sweating, wet patches on his shirt and droplets running down his face. It was like he was burning up from the inside. She could still feel the discordant power pulsing inside him, even as she used her own mage powers to create the spell to make him lighter. 

She needed to hurry. She knew it in her bones. 

She chanted the spell under her breath, and then bent down to pick him up. He weighed nothing more than a baby and she lifted him into her arms with ease. She let out a tiny sob, grateful that the spell had worked. His tall body was still awkward to carry, but it was nothing compared to how heavy he was usually. 

“Now to get you to Bree,” she muttered. Jena staggered as his weight came back. She immediately started chanting again, and strode in the direction of the tent she needed, hoping that she’d be able to make it the whole way while chanting. 

CHAPTER 36 - NATE

Everything felt broken. 

He knew he wasn’t dead, because even though his brain felt like mud, he was in too much pain. His head was pounding. It felt like someone was bashing him repeatedly with a mallet. His whole body was on fire, the flames inside him pushing desperately at the barriers he’d managed to raise before he’d collapsed. They wanted to be free, to burn everything they could, to claim and destroy. 

Except he wouldn’t let that happen. Last time he’d destroyed an entire enemy mercenary camp. This time he’d be killing innocent people. Friends, new and old. 

Jena. 

The power pulsed through him, looking for an outlet, and he held steady, holding it close, not letting the flames take over. 

You can do it, son. Just hold it together. 

He didn’t even have the capacity to reply to Thornal, he was so overwhelmed by his task. The flames were powerful, and they weren’t responding to his attention like they had earlier. They were consumed by the desire to break free. 

He burned. He writhed. He moaned. 

He clamped down on the flames and held himself in check. It was all he could do right now. He had to hope that the sensation would eventually subside, that he would eventually be able to let go of this desperate hold he had over the flames. And if he couldn’t, then he needed to find a way to get the hell out of here, away from everyone.  

He wasn’t going to accidentally kill a whole campsite full of people ever again. 

The only thing that was keeping him from spinning out with the fear, was that in the back of his mind, a mere whisper of thought, he knew Jena was taking care of him. She was holding him, she was taking him to Bree. And it calmed his desperation. It made him feel stronger and more able to take on the flames. 

But it was a battle. A fight he’d never won before. 

The flames were slippery, they existed in every part of him, they knew him inside and out. They whispered thoughts into his head to convince him. 

What have these people ever done for you? 

You need to battle Lothar with our power. You cannot deny us. 

If you do not let us feed, you won’t be powerful enough to fight Lothar, and everyone will die, not just these people. 

We need to feed, we’re so hungry. 

Why would you deny us our only sustenance? 

Don’t you love us? 

The fact that he could feel Jena’s hands where she was carrying him, he could sense her heart beat next to his, was the only thing that made him hold strong. He wasn’t going to burn her, he would never burn Jena. And he wouldn’t burn all these other innocent people, either. 

It had been bad enough waking up to all those dead mercenaries. They’d kidnapped him, beaten him, been prepared to turn him over to Lothar, and it had still felt like he’d been stabbed through the heart. That he’d killed people who didn’t deserve that kind of fate. 

What would it feel like if he let the flames go here? 

Jena. 

Bree. 

Eldrin. 

Argus. 

It didn’t even bear thinking about. 

His hands curled into fists. He didn’t need to think about it, because he wasn’t going to set the flames free. 

But it will kill you, if you don’t… You’ll die with us. The flames whispered their last desperate plea. You cannot hold this inside you. 

Nate shook his head, the burning inside his body getting worse. The flames weren’t trying to trick him. He could feel the truth in their words. But it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t give up Jena’s life for his own. He wouldn’t hurt the rest of the camp, just so he could live on. 

He moaned. He burned. 

He didn’t want to die. 

But he was determined to do what was right. What felt good. Even if it killed him. 

The flames burned harder, brighter inside him. Resisting his decision, pressing on him, pushing and fighting. 

CHAPTER 37 - JENA 

Jena stumbled the last few steps toward the Utugan’s tent. She was still muttering the spell under her breath, keeping Nate light enough for her to carry. The magic was swirling around them both, kicking up dust and air, making Jena’s eyes burn and her throat almost too dry to speak. But she didn’t dare stop her chanting. Nate was heating up, his skin burning, sweat running off him in rivulets. She could feel the battle raging inside him and wished she could help somehow, but all she could do right now was keep repeating the spell. She was almost there. 

The same guards were still standing around the Utugan’s tent, spears at the ready. They looked bloodied and worn, like they’d see a thousand years in the last few hours. But as soon as the closest guard saw Jena, he broke formation and ran toward her. He was one of the guards she’d saved. It was like finding a long lost friend.  

“He needs help from Bree. I have to get him to Bree,” said Jena, not sure if her words were as garbled as she felt. As soon as she stopped chanting, Nate started to gather his usual weight back inside him. She staggered, unable to hold him. 

“Let me,” said the guard, reaching for Nate. The guard’s face was smeared with ash and he had a large gash on his left arm. 

Jena shook her head. She wanted to say no, to hold him close, but Nate was already slipping out of her arms. The guard carefully moved her aside and grabbed Nate under the armpits. Another guard grabbed his legs and between the two of them, they carried Nate inside the tent. Jena followed closely behind, peering anxiously over the shoulder of the closest guard. 

Inside the tent, it was chaos. There were people running around, wounded men and women lying on blankets and pillows, and nurses, including Bree and the Utugan, tending them. Blood and flesh wounds from wolvan bites seemed to be everywhere. Limbs missing, gashes, and pain were everywhere. Whimpers and moans mixed with quiet voices and grim commands. Even the Utugan’s youngest daughter was giving people water and wiping foreheads. 

Despite the chaos, most people in the tent looked up at their entrance, many with widened eyes and the memory of fear on their faces. There was complete silence for a moment, and then Bree ran over and gathered Jena into a fierce hug. Everyone started moving again. 

“I’ve been so worried,” she said against Jena’s neck. 

“I know. Me too. It’s a nightmare out there.” Jena started shaking now that she was here with Bree. She hadn’t even been sure she’d make it this far. 

Bree tightened her arms around Jena. “Are all the beasts defeated?” She whispered the words, almost as if she didn’t want to know the answer. 

“Rothell is fighting a wolvan. It’s the last one, I think.” Jena spoke into the shoulder of Bree’s soft tunic, taking comfort in the familiar feel and smell.  

Bree let out a relieved breath. “Thank the gods.” 

Jena pulled back a little, so she could look into her sister’s eyes. “I need your help with Nate.” She swallowed painfully over a lump in her throat. “I think he’s dying.” 

Bree’s eyes widened and she glanced down to where Nate had been placed nearby, then back at Jena. “What happened?” 

“He used the flames to defeat the monsters. But I think he’s now fighting them for supremacy.” 

Bree’s eyes widened. She’d seen the mercenary camp too. “Can he win?” 

“I think he might need our help,” whispered Jena. 

Bree glanced around the room, then leaned close to Jena. “If the flames win, everyone here would be dead. Including us.” Her voice wobbled on the last words and she gripped Jena’s arms tightly. 

“Then we need to work fast and make sure that doesn’t happen,” said Jena, her voice grim. The low murmur of hospital care around them seemed out of place for their discussion. Their eyes held for a second longer, heavy with foreboding. Jena’s eyes narrowed and she frowned. “We can do this,” she said fiercely. “This isn’t the end.” 

Almost as one, they knelt on either side of Nate’s body. He was tossing and turning, sweat glistening on his face and chest. One of the guards who’d carried him in was hesitating nearby. 

“Do you need my help?” he asked. He was the guard Jena had saved. 

“Can you get us water and a towel?” answered Bree. 

Jena looked at her in surprise. She didn’t think water was going to save Nate. 

After the guard had gone, Jena raised her eyebrows. 

“Just to make him feel useful,” said Bree with a shrug. She leaned in close to Nate and put her hands on his chest. Immediately, Jena could feel the power of the flames even more. She swayed slightly in response. 

Bree glanced up and Jena could see the fear in her eyes. “It’s so much stronger than anything I’ve ever dealt with. The Riders in the Forest of Ghosts were a picnic compared to this.” 

Jena shivered at the thought of the dark and malevolent creatures who’d almost killed Argus when they first met. “You don’t have to destroy the flames, not like with The Riders. They’re part of Nate, you’d hurt him as well. We just have to somehow convince them not to kill us all, including Nate.” 

Bree shook her head. “They’re not exactly reasonable. They want to get out, to run free.” 

“That’s the last thing we can let them do.” 

“What did other Firecallers do in the past? Surely they must have been able to control this aspect of their powers?” 

It was a reasonable thought, but Jena shook her head. “That’s the problem. No one seems to know.” 

“Nothing in the book of spells?” asked Bree hopefully. 

Jena gave her a look. 

“Fine, I’m sure you’ve already tried that.” She paused, thinking. “So maybe we need to somehow gather the flames and give them an outlet? Instead of burning people, perhaps they can burn part of the forest?” 

“That doesn’t seem fair. All the animals who weren’t killed by the flames would be left homeless. And the fire could rage through the whole forest, instead of just a little section of it.” 

“What’s your idea then?” snapped Bree. “Because I sure as fire prefer the death of the forest to the death of all these people.” 

Someone cleared their throat behind them. “Perhaps I can help?” 

Jena turned and her breath caught. Catarina was standing there, her dress torn, blood dripping from a wound on her head. She was covered in ash, like most of the people inside the tent. 

Jena looked away, thinking about the last time she saw Catarina. It all seemed so long ago. Like years had passed instead of hours. 

“How can you help?” asked Bree curiously. 

“There is something in our culture… A collective memory that we use to help us. And one of my ancestors had dealings with a previous firecaller. I… I believe I know what Nate needs to do.” 

Jena and Bree exchanged a look. It was the reason they’d come here in the first place, to find out more about this collective knowledge and use it to help Argus. 

“Tell us,” said Jena. 

“The flames want to be used, to burn. Their powers need to be put to use, so that they will calm back down to their normal level.” 

“But we don’t want to burn anything or anyone up.” 

“It doesn’t have to be about burning something. It is simply about using the power. If their energy is filtered through something—or someone—else, then it can turn their magic from flames to energy.” 

“Like what?” Jena was having a hard time imagining what else the flames could do. Her brain felt like butter. 

Catarina looked around the room. “You could use Bree’s healing magic to filter the flames and heal all these people.” 

Bree’s eyes widened and Jena sat back. “She could do that?” 

Catarina shrugged. “I believe so. And it’s better than the alternative.” From the expression on Catarina’s face, she knew exactly what the alternative was. 

“How?” asked Jena. She held Nate’s hand tightly in hers. They didn’t have much time. 

“If you let me help, I can feed the magic through to Bree. I have some experience with… maneuvering… magic that is not my own.” 

Jena wanted to ask questions and find out exactly what Catarina was hinting at, but honestly there was only one question she needed the answer to, and that was if they could trust the old woman to help. She thought back to the scene in the caravan. Catarina had been shocked at everything that Jena had said. She’d been genuinely trying to bring two estranged family members back together. Her gut said they could trust her. 

Jena glanced at Bree, and saw her twin come to the same conclusion. “Fine. Let’s do it.” Jena scrambled to her feet, and went to find a chair for Catarina. There was nothing except the pillows they had scattered around the tent space. She grabbed one and took it back. 

Catarina was murmuring quietly to Bree, who was nodding her understanding. “Here’s a pillow, there’s nothing else in the tent,” said Jena, putting the large stuffed pillow down next to Nate. 

“That’s all I need, child,” said Catarina. She curled up elegantly into the pillow, and reached out one hand for Nate’s. He was still hot with sweat, and trembling hard. His eyes flickered as soon as Catarina’s skin touched his. “Sit down, both of you,” she said. “We will all need to work together.” 

Jena and Bree moved in closer and sat on the other side to Catarina, Jena nearer Nate’s head, and her sister by his hand. Bree reached out and touched his fingers. She whimpered and pulled back. “He’s burning up,” said Bree. “It’s like touching fire.” She glanced at Catarina who was calmly holding his other hand. 

“It’s necessary. You will both have to touch his skin, and it will burn. We need to control the flames, transfer their energy and then send the raw magic to you Bree. You will then be able to use it to heal anyone you like inside this room, maybe even the camp.” 

Bree’s eyes were like saucers as she looked at Catarina. “Are you sure about this?” 

“As sure as I can be. The old memories are sometimes a little faded, but…” She shrugged. “I’m fairly certain I have this one correct.” 

Jena looked at Bree, and traded a charged moment with her sister. They had to trust that Catarina knew what she was doing. What other choice did they have? 

Jena reached out and smoothed the sweat-soaked hair from Nate’s forehead. His skin was burning, and it really was like putting your hand into the flames. She knew from personal experience what that felt like. But if it would help Nate—and everyone else in the camp—she’d do whatever it took. She put her hand over Nate’s forehead, just as Bree grasped his hand. Heat hit her palm, like she was touching fire, and her hand trembled, but she held steady. 

“Let’s do this,” said Catarina. 

CHAPTER 38 - NATE 

Just when it seemed like the flames were going to consume him, their burning heat dimmed. It came in waves, and he knew the next wave would flow over him again, just like a wave in the sea. There was no stopping the flow of the flame magic.

The world spun around him, and it felt like he was flying without being able to control where he was going. The flames were pushing and pulsing, but their ferocious power was… less. Not much less, but enough to make it bearable for the moment. He tried to open his eyes but he was still stuck inside the prison of his mind.

The only thing that kept him sane was that he felt Jena’s presence close by. He didn’t understand what was going on, but Jena was looking after him. She wouldn’t let anything happen. Not if she could help it. He felt her hand on his forehead, and another familiar presence held his hand. Bree was there too. He remembered them working together to save Argus, could they do the same for him?

And then he felt another presence. Someone he didn’t recognize. It felt heavy, burdened and old. Much, much older than a single person could ever be. Magic inside magic. A person with more magic than was visible from the outside.

It reminded him a little of Jena, carrying her burden of the Book of Spells, as well as her own magic.

Except this magic was old. Ancient. Carried through the years, passed on from one person to the next. He didn’t understand how it was possible, but he saw it, as clear as the nose on his face. Maybe it was the flames inside him, giving him strength and vision he wouldn’t normally have, but he felt connected to this new magic.

It’s our Utugani memories, said a voice in his head. They’re passed down through the female lines. We hold them steady, and keep our knowledge for all the generations.

He recognized the voice. Catarina?

I’m here, with Jena and Bree. We are going to try to help you.

But how—?

Just hold the flames close to you, until the time is right.

How will I know the time is right?

You’ll know.

Just then a surge of flame mage overcame him, and he gasped, his whole body tensing. He pushed back against flames, even as they begged him to set them free. They cried and begged and screamed at him, and it was all he could do to hold himself steady. He felt the touch of Jena’s hand on his forehead and he cried out, using every last ounce of strength in his body to hold back the flames and give them time to do…whatever they were going to do.

And that’s when he felt it. Something pulling at the flames, urging them to one side, to follow a path that neither they nor Nate had noticed before. There was a flowing magic, swirling around in one corner of his mind, foreign to him, but somehow comforting.

Now? He asked.

Now, replied Catarina.

Praying that he was doing the right thing, Nate allowed the full force of the flames to follow the swirling tunnel of magic that led away from his core. The flames went, greedily, hungrily, storming toward their only escape from their current prison.

Nate gasped for breath, his whole body shuddering as the flames left his body. He could only pray that Catarina knew what she was doing. He tried to hold steady, to wait where he was for the flames to leave, but as they surged through the tunnel, he was compelled to follow.

Wait! Stop. It’s dragging me out too.

Hold tight. Don’t let that happen. If you leave your body, you may never get your consciousness back inside again.

Nate gasped again, trying to find purchase inside his body, something to help him hold onto the inside of his mind. But the rushing sound became louder, and the flames pulled at him, and it seemed like nothing was strong enough to keep him where he was. The flames wanted him to come with them, to enjoy the burn like they did.

The flames were sucked out of his body, down through the swirling tunnel of magic, and Nate followed, his mind unable to hold back. His mind slipped and slid down the tunnel, until he hit the ancient magic that was calling to the flames.

The flames were then funneled out from the ancient magic, and into the fresh clean healing magic of Bree. Nate followed the flames, unable to halt the flow of the magic, wishing he could find a way to stop himself, but unable to do anything other than follow the flames.

And then he felt it. A warm hand on his forehead. Fire magic that burned brighter than any other he’d ever seen. Jena burned alongside Bree, and she was reaching out for him. She held onto him, held him to her.

The flames sped onward, out into the soothing, healing magic of Bree, and he felt it as the flames turned into pure energy. Bree’s magic reached out to every single person inside the tent—including himself—and healed their wounds. He felt the magic as it joined up flesh that had been ripped apart, as it stopped blood flowing where it shouldn’t, and as it allowed breath to flow smoothly in the chests of several older patients. It felt miraculous.

Jena held him close for a few moments, and then she pushed him back into his body, his magic separating from the flames that had been burned out.

His magic—through Bree—had healed all these people.

His flames weren’t always destructive. It was possible to channel them into something good. Something worthwhile. He savored that thought for a while, until it was all he could think about.

And then everything went black.  

CHAPTER 39 - JENA 

The pillows in the Utugan’s large tent were colorful and soft. Jena smoothed her hand along one woven seam and tried to focus on why they were here for this gathering. It was hard to believe it had been less than a day since the wounded and dying filled this space. Although Jena could still see the chaotic scene clearly inside her head, there was no trace of blood or flesh or other remnants of the attack inside the tent. 

The Utugani had been highly efficient at cleaning up the mess. With cleaning up and clearing away in general, really. Everyone else was outside breaking down the rest of the campsite—the task they’d started just before the attack—and were still planning to leave later today. Jena could understand their desire to be as far away from this campsite as possible, as soon as possible. They were even planning to bury their dead at a campsite a few hours from here, so they didn’t have to delay. 

Next to Jena sat Bree and Nate, both determinedly trying to look awake and alert. Channeling the flames yesterday had been like attempting to control a roaring forest fire with only a glass of water, and it had left them all feeling sluggish. Nate held the fire ruby with Argus inside it, cupped in his hand, just in case he needed to access Argus to convince the others. 

The Utugani leader sat across from them, his eyes dark with worry. He looked at least ten years older than when they’d first met him, and Jena knew they’d caused most of his current problems. The attack had been traumatic for everyone, but somehow the Utugan was taking it especially hard. He was a protector, and the reality of being so vulnerable was painful. 

Next to the Utugan were Eldrin and Catarina, both looking equally solemn. Catarina’s arm was hooked through her grandson’s and the older woman looked as exhausted as Jena felt. 

“What can we do to help?” said the Utugan. Even his voice was weary. 

Jena paused, wondering how much she should tell him. “You know that Argus is trapped inside the fire ruby, and that we’re looking for a way to save him.” 

He winced, but gave one curt nod. “Of course. Yes. We will do anything we can to help you save him.” 

Jena glanced at Nate, who nodded at her to continue. “Argus suggested to Nate that there might be an Utugani power that could help. Something he wasn’t supposed to know about. Something… inter-generational…” Jena raised her eyebrows at the Utugani and Catarina, giving them a significant look. “Something connected to the magic Catarina used yesterday to funnel Nate’s powers.” 

The Utugan glanced at Catarina. She shrugged her bony shoulders. She’d known that by helping them yesterday, she’d given away their secret. “It was either help, or have everyone die,” she said, her tone determined. “I didn’t have a choice.” 

The Utugan gave a small nod in her direction. “No point in keeping a secret if the entire clan is dead.” But he turned back to Jena, Nate and Bree, and his expression turned to steel. “But it is also our most closely guarded secret. As we have all survived our ordeal, I must now bind you to an oath of silence. Many covet our ancient magic. We cannot allow anyone else to discover it.” 

“Of course,” said Jena, nodding. She understood keeping secrets. Nate and Bree nodded in agreement as well. As soon as they all agreed, Jena felt a tiny zing of power over her body. She blinked, glancing at Catarina. 

“Just a small oath-binding spell,” Catarina said, her expression unrepentant. “To make sure.” 

Jena frowned at Catarina, but couldn’t quite decide what to complain about. She’d planned on keeping the secret to her grave. A spell forcing her to keep the secret wasn’t going to change that. She glanced at her sister. 

Bree just shrugged. “We agreed to it,” she said.  

“You could have said you were going to do that first,” grumbled Jena. “Given us warning.” 

Catarina shrugged. “You agreed to keep the secret. What more is there to know?” She hesitated, glancing at her son. “What I want to know is how Argus knew about the powers. It’s kept hidden from the younger folk. Never discussed, never even hinted at.” 

Nate cleared his throat. He glanced at Eldrin. “Do you remember the time you and Argus skipped out to visit Margarita and Laurel?” he said. “You were young, sixteen. You crept out, met up with the girls.” 

Eldrin looked at him quizzically. “Yes.” 

“You never told anyone,” continued Nate.   

“It wasn't a secret,” said Eldrin, his expression turning carefully blank. 

Nate paused. “You saw something. The two of you, on your way back. Something you swore never to reveal to anyone on pain of death. Argus said that as he’s almost dead now, that vow is no longer valid.” Nate’s joke was like a rock thrown into a lake. It sank quickly. 

As Nate spoke, Jena watched Eldrin closely, trying to see how he would react. Did he remember as vividly as Argus did? Did he think it was as important? But aside from a flash of anger when Nate joked about Argus’s possible death, Eldrin’s expression gave nothing away; he simply stared at Nate with narrowed eyes. 

“I’d rather you didn’t speak of it,” Eldrin said eventually. 

“Argus said it’s relevant. It was a ceremony. A sharing of knowledge between one leader and the next. Your grandmother was there. As was your father.” 

“What?” The Utugan’s attention swerved from Nate to his son. “You were there? Why did you never tell us?” 

Under his father’s scrutiny, Eldrin lost some of his detachment. “We were out past curfew… knew we’d get in trouble,”—he was almost blushing and Jena had to hold in her grin—“and we didn’t want that. We saw a bright light, and went to investigate, never dreaming what it was.” 

Catarina’s eyebrows shot up, and she watched her grandson closely. “You saw it happen? Both of you? No wonder you're nervous about taking over from your father.” She let out a short laugh, shaking her head. “You boys must have been petrified.” 

Eldrin scowled. “I’m not nervous. It was terrifying, but we were young. We forgot about it.” He glanced at Nate and the fire ruby. “Mostly.”

“Argus says the knowledge that gets passed on is important,” said Nate. “He thinks it’s been passed on through centuries of Utugani leaders. It means you might know a way to break his curse. And maybe you’ll also know about the creation of the Flames and the mage who did it.” Nate leaned in, his dark gaze intent on Catarina. “Perhaps you’ll even know how to defeat Lothar.” There was an expectant silence. Jena, Bree and Nate looked at Catarina to confirm what Argus had said. 

She paused, glanced at the Utugan. “It might be possible.” She hesitated. The silence felt loud, and seemed to last forever. “But those memories, that knowledge, it’s hidden deep. It’s from a long, long time ago. It would take… time… to dig that deep.”  

“For Argus, I think it’s worth it,” said Eldrin, his voice breaking. 

His grandmother laid her head on his shoulder and patted his arm. “We all miss him, lad. It's difficult for all of us.” 

“He misses you too,” said Nate. 

Jena glanced over at Nate. She knew Argus had said nothing of the sort. But Eldrin and Catarina seemed to take comfort in his words, and that was important. 

The Utugan shook his head and took a deep breath, then pushed it out in a rough burst of air. “It certainly explains a few things,” he said softly. “Like your reluctance.” 

Eldrin practically growled. “Will you stop saying I’m reluctant? We had no idea where Argus was, and no way to tell if he was dead. I didn’t want to take his place before we knew for sure. And it turns out I was right, and he’s still alive.” Eldrin winced. “For now.” 

The Utugan looked at his son, considering. Then he turned to Nate. “You want us to find these memories? Then what?”  

“We break Argus’s curse before the twenty-one days are up. Once we’ve done that, we go to the Flame City and confront Lothar before the coronation.”   

“That’s a lot,” said Eldrin doubtfully. “Maybe too much.” 

“We have very little time,” agreed Nate, leaning forward, his intense gaze looking between Eldrin and his family. “But we have no choice. I refuse to give up on Argus, and I have to stop Lothar. For the sake of everyone in Ignisia.” 

“We will help you get to Flame City and confront Lothar,” said the Utugan. 

Jena let out a relieved breath, and Nate grinned with relief. 

The Utugani held up his hand. “But as for the other request… you want access to magic and memories that are supposed to be strictly kept within the Utugani family.” The Utugan paused and shook his head reluctantly. “What proof can you offer that this isn't some elaborate trick?” 

Eldrin cleared his throat and leaned forward, gesturing at Bree with one hand. “Use your instinct, Father. Bree saved your life on the first day you met her. Jena and Nate saved many more of our friends and family yesterday. I think we can trust them, and so does Gran. You're the only one with doubts.” 

The Utugani glanced between his mother and his son. Then he sighed. “You’re both too trusting.” 

Nate stood up and started pacing around the room. “We’re dealing with a power greater than anything we’ve faced before,” he said urgently. “Getting Argus out of this fire ruby and free from the curse will be difficult enough. But facing Lothar… That’s a task of monumental proportions. But it’s a task that’s important to all of us. He will destroy the very fabric of our world if we don’t stop him. He lives in the dark. We need anything that will help us with our task. And Argus is sure this will be of use.” 

The Utugan still looked skeptical. 

Jena took a deep breath. Perhaps knowing some of her secrets would help? “If it will convince you, I can explain a little more about my powers.” 

“Jena–” Nate took a step closer to Jena to protest. 

“You can’t do it,” said Bree. “It’s too dangerous.” 

Jena glanced at Nate and Bree. “Half his warriors saw me use mage magic yesterday. He probably already knows my secret. If he was going to do anything about it, he would have done it already.” 

Catarina gave a sharp laugh. “The more I know you, the more I like you, girl.” 

Jena smiled at Catarina. “I think the Utugan is far more intelligent than most men,” she said deliberately. 

“You will get nowhere with such blatant flattery,” said the Utugan, trying to frown over his obviously flattered expression. 

“I mean no offense.” Jena paused. She believed she could trust them with her secret. But if she was wrong, it could mean her life. “I will tell you something that could get me executed. You will have that power over me.” 

“We ask for no such power. We simply wish to ensure you’re telling the truth.” The Utugan said, and gestured to Nate. “Is this about the spell Catarina helped with yesterday?” 

His narrowed eyes suggested to Jena that he already knew the answer to his question. 

“Yes,” said Jena. “In part. Catarina was the one who funneled Nate’s powers into Bree. But I was the one who held Nate inside his body. I was the one who stopped the creature that almost killed him.” She took a breath. “I was trained as a mage by the Guardian Thornal. If the mage council found out…” 

There was silence around the room. Jena watched the three Utugani leaders and hoped she hadn’t misread them. They all stared at her with a variety of reactions. The Utugan looked sad, Catarina had an excited spark in her eyes, and Eldrin looked daunted. She swallowed hard. 

“Your path leads to death,” said the Utugan softly. “I suspected it, but to hear you say it out loud…” 

Catarina leaned forward. “There’s something in the histories about this. I remember it. We must search them, and find out more.” 

The Utugan looked back at his mother, and Jena could almost see the thoughts running across his face. He was still trying to decide if he trusted them. 

“Is there anything else we could say? Anything you could ask Argus to answer, to prove he's here, helping us?” asked Jena. 

There was a long pause before the Utugan answered in a dark voice. “No. I believe you. We will check the histories.” 

Catarina and Eldrin grinned, and even Jena was moved to smile. They’d passed the first step. 

Now they just needed to find a way to save Argus and kill Lothar. 

Simple as pie. 

Thanks so much for reading Royal Mage! Come back next week for more chapters...

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