Amanda Downum - The Drowning City

The pain on his face made her look away, pain and desperate hope. She couldn’t stand to hear him plead again. But she had no way to even chip such a stone, let alone shatter it…

She turned, clumsy, and stared at the orange light glowing from the mountain’s cauldron. Diamonds were forged in the earth’s fire. That would be enough to melt it.

She stumbled to her feet, knees buckling. Her arms were nothing but pain from fingertip to shoulder, and her face was already swelling from the blow. But she could still walk.

The stones shuddered beneath her feet. Beneath the keen of the wind she heard shouts and sounds of battle. The Dai Tranh must have broken the wards. They needed to be away from the mountain as fast as they could.

So she, like a fool, was climbing up it. It made her laugh, till her hand cramped around the stone and she whimpered instead.

The lake of fire was higher than it had been, great bubbles of flame bursting on its surface. The stench of sulfur and burnt rock choked her. She crouched on her knees at the lip of the crater, afraid to stand against the wind.

She spared a heartbeat to stare at the ruined collar. Still beautiful, rubies like drops of blood amid the mangled gold, the diamond rich and flawless. He was a demon and she meant to free him. She’d never be able to stop him again if he turned on her.

Only a heartbeat’s hesitation and she flung the stone away, into the cauldron. She didn’t see it land, but flames belched high and bright. And from the landing below came a fierce raptor’s cry.

She turned, scrambled down the stone till she reached the steps. And stopped as Asheris rose in front of her on four burning wings. His eagle’s head turned, watched her from one blazing eye. Even Assari friezes couldn’t capture the beauty of the jinn.

He alit on the step below her and the light died, leaving only the man. His clothes were torn and filthy, skin lusterless beneath blood and sweat, but his throat had healed.

“Lady, it is done.” He offered her a hand and she took it, but when their fingers touched he flinched away. He stared at her right hand, her beringed hand, and for an instant she wondered if he would send her into the volcano as well, to free the bound ghosts.

Instead he turned her hand over, frowning at the blood, at the fingers hooked with pain. Then he caught her left, baring the blackened, blistered mark his hand had burned into her wrist.

“I’m sorry. I wish I could heal you-”

She smiled crookedly. “But that’s not what either of us is made for, is it? Perhaps you could help me off this mountain instead.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

The ground shook again when they reached the landing and they stumbled.

“This is bad, isn’t it?” Isyllt asked.

Before he could answer, footsteps slapped against the path and Zhirin stumbled up the stairs. Witchlights flickered around her and she raised a hand in warding when she saw Asheris.

“It’s all right,” Isyllt said. “We’re not killing each other anymore. What happened?”

The girl gaped an instant longer, then shook her head. Blood ran from a cut on her cheek, spotting her shirt collar. “Imran is dead. He burned, and I don’t know how-”

Asheris smiled, cold and cruel. “Backlash. A pity I wasn’t there to watch.”

“But,” Zhirin went on, “Xinai got away. And I think they’ve broken too many wards.”

His bloody humor fell away. “Yes. The mountain is waking.” He tilted his head, listening. “It’s been waiting such a long time.”

“Can you stop it? Like you did at the warehouse?”

He shook his head. “This fire is greater than I could ever quench or contain. All we can do is get away.”

“But the Kurun Tam, the villages, the forest-”

“Are all going to burn. I’m sorry. Imran would have done better to send me after the Dai Tranh while there was still hope of stopping this.”

The mountain rumbled, a roar building beneath their feet.

“We’re not going to make it down, are we?” Isyllt said. She didn’t feel like running anyway. It was hard enough staying conscious.

“We wouldn’t, no.” Asheris slipped an arm around her waist. “But we’re not going down.” He held out his other hand to Zhirin. “Miss Laii?”

Zhirin stared. “What-”

“Come on,” Isyllt said as she began to understand. She grabbed his waist, abused fingers clutching a handful of silk. “Zhirin, please, let’s go.”

The girl took his hand, let him pull her close.

“Hold on,” he said. And uncased his wings.

Zhirin shrieked, short and sharp, as they rose. Isyllt slipped, her hand nearly useless, but his grip tightened.

“I won’t let you fall.”

His wings blazed against the night. Isyllt felt their warmth, but it didn’t burn her. The mountain fell away in a dizzying spiral, a burning eye in the black stretch of forest; Symir glittered in the distance. They moved into the low clouds and her skin tingled as the damp touched her burns. For a moment there was nothing but wind and mist, the taste of rain and the delta spreading out beneath them. Zhirin made a soft sound of wonder and delight.

Then the mountain exploded.

Xinai fled before the mage stopped screaming, leaving the Laii girl to stare as he burned and writhed. She avoided stairs and sorcerers altogether, scrambling across the crags instead. The rough pitted stones scoured the skin from her hands but were easy enough to climb. Light leaked over the lip of the cauldron, sullen even to her colorless night-eyes. She could imagine the red glow easily.

A touch of a charm lent her a burst of speed; she’d pay for it the next day, but now she needed the deer’s grace. Her mother’s presence surrounded her like a cloak of ice, chilling the sweat that ran down her back.

She thought she heard a shout below as she reached the edge of the crater, but couldn’t tell who it came from. With any luck the mages would all kill one another.

Crouching against the wind, she ran. The light was brighter now, and she kept her eyes averted. As she neared the northeastern side of the crater she heard Selei call her name.

The old woman waited a few yards down the slope, a pair of Dai Tranh warriors keeping watch. The wind was gentler there, though it still whistled sharply over the rocks.

“The mages are coming,” Xinai gasped, sinking to her knees in front of Selei. She let her night-eyes fade. “We need to hurry.”

Selei nodded and turned to her guards. “Leave us. And hurry down-I don’t know how quickly the mountain will wake.”

“What about you, Grandmother?”

“I know what I’m doing. Don’t worry about me.”

They nodded unhappily and started down, leaving behind a wooden box. Xinai could feel the magic humming inside it, hot and violent. The rubies, soon to be reunited with the mountain that charged them.

“You’ll have to leave soon too,” Selei said. “But I wanted to see you again, before this ends.”

“What-” Her mouth opened, closed again. A queasy chill settled in her gut. “No. You can’t-”

“It has to be done, and this is the price.” She shook her head. “I’m tired, Xinai. I’ve lost so many-my brothers and sisters, my childhood friends, even my children. I don’t want to end my days a dowager, a burden on the clan.”

“You’re no burden! You lead the Dai Tranh.”

“But not for much longer, I think. I may be a clever old witch, child, but even witches’ wits dull with age. I want to have a death that means something. That buys something.”

“Why not a life that means something?”

“I think I’ve had that.” She took Xinai’s hands in hers. “Don’t you?”

Xinai nodded. Her eyes prickled, pressure building behind her nose. “What about Riuh? You’re all he has left.”