Мэтт Форбек - The Queen of Death

Esprë giggled again. “It is only what it is, nothing else. It is pure fire. It lives to burn. What could be simpler than that? ”

Xalt watched the ring burn. “It sounds … tempting.”

“I know what you mean,” said Esprë. “There are many days I wish my life was a simple as that of the elemental that drives this ship, but it has problems too.”

“Like what?”

“The people who made this airship tore the elemental from its home and bound it to the Phoenix by magical means. Before that, it burned only for the sake of burning. Now it burns to go home.”

Xalt considered that for a moment. “Should we not release it?”

Esprë shuddered at the thought. “Don’t you remember what happened with the other ship?” The image of the Keeper’s Claw exploding into a ball of fire hungry enough to consume a dragon flashed through her mind.

“We could abandon the ship and set it free. You’ve said before how hard the elemental has tried to crash the Phoenix. We could help it succeed.”

“What would happen then?”

“The elemental would be freed.”

“Then what?”

Xalt stopped and absently tapped the finger on his maimed hand to his head. “I don’t know. What happened to the other elemental?”

“It died,” said Esprë. “As powerful as it was, it couldn’t find a way back home. It devoured the dragon then burned out forever.”

“Can fire die?”

“Just like putting out a candle. One moment it’s there, and the next it’s nothing but a memory.”

“Do you want to die?”

Esprë’s breath caught in her chest. “Sometimes,” she said. “Mostly not.”

“Why?”

“There’s nothing simpler than being dead.”

“I see.”

The two stood there in silence for a moment. Te’oma and Monja tended the roasting tribex, and the smell of the cooking meat made Esprë’s stomach rumble. It would be ready soon, and she felt famished.

Out at the bow, Esprë saw Kandler, Sallah, and Burch talking. They glanced back at her from time to time, but she could not make out their words over the roar of the burning ring of fire.

“Then why do you continue to live?” Xalt said.

A sudden urge to slap the warforged surged in Esprë’s heart, but she put it aside. He was so young, and just as she had said, innocent.

“It’s complicated,” she said. “I may wish that I had the simple life of an elemental, but I do not. I am who I am, and I have to learn to deal with that—no matter how horrible it may be.”

“Is it so horrible to be you?” The warforged put a hand on the girl’s shoulder.

She refused to look at him, keeping her eyes pointed straight ahead. She saw Kandler and the others leave the bow and start toward the roast. She hoped that Sallah or Monja would come up and relieve her soon, as much so she could get away from Xalt’s questions as so she could fill her belly.

“It’s not easy,” she said, “not as easy as I would like, but it’s my life, and I’m not going to throw it away.”

“I understand.” Xalt’s tone said that perhaps he didn’t. Esprë turned and offered the warforged a weak smile. “It’s not just stubbornness that keeps me going,” she said, “although that’s part of it. I’ve thought more than once about tossing myself over the ship’s railing. In fact, when we crashed outside of Fort Bones, it was no accident. I flew the Phoenix straight into the ground. I wanted us to die.” “Perhaps it would have solved your problems.”

Esprë snorted softly at that. “No. It would just have ended them.”

Xalt’s head bobbed. “I see.”

This time Esprë believed he did.

The warforged gestured toward the roasting tribex. “I think your life is about to become more complicated.”

Kandler and Sallah broke off from the others, leaving Burch with Monja and Te’oma to start carving the succulent tribex.

“Yours too, I’m afraid,” Esprë said to Xalt.

“We need to talk with you,” Kandler said as he and Sallah climbed onto the bridge.

When they’d been standing out on the bow and even next to the others roasting the tribex, they’d seemed much smaller. From atop the bridge, Esprë had stood far taller than any of them. As they stood next to her, though, she couldn’t help but think how small she still was compared to them.

Of course, Esprina had been shorter than either Kandler or Sallah, and she’d been an adult too. Humans grew taller than elves. It was nothing to be ashamed of, but it still made her feel like a child.

“What is it?” she asked, keeping her voice even.

“Sallah here has made it clear to me that I haven’t been taking you much into account when making decisions for you. According to her and Burch—and probably everyone else on this ship who’s yet to weigh in with me—I need to start treating you more like an adult.”

Sprites danced in Esprë’s stomach. She’d longed for Kandler to give her more respect for years, but she’d given up on it happening years ago. She’d figured she’d outlast him one way or the others, as was often the case with elves when they dealt with humans.

One time, when Esprina and Kandler had a spat, Esprina eventually gave in to Kandler’s demands. When Esprë had asked her why, her mother had said, “When it comes to bickering over such petty matters, life is far too short—especially for him.”

With everything that had been happening, though, Esprë had once again started to entertain ideas of Kandler treating her as an equal. While she wasn’t sure he was ready for it quite yet, the fact that he’d even been talking to someone else about it sent a thrill through her.

Then she turned suspicious. Why would Kandler want to start doing something like this right now? She’d hoped to be able to push her case once they’d survived whatever lay ahead of them. For now, though, she’d been happy to let Kandler make the decisions.

“Oh no,” she said as she realized what he was after. “No. You can’t do that to me.”

“Yes, he can,” said Sallah. “He needs to. This is larger than him.”

“It’s larger than any of us,” said Esprë. “Too large.” Kandler put an arm on Esprë’s shoulder. She could tell he wanted to pick her up and hold her, but he’d kept himself from doing so. That would be what an adult would do for a child. If they were to be equals, they’d have to start treating each other as such.

“It has to be your choice, Esprë,” Kandler said. “This is your life we’re talking about. You should have a say in how you want to live it. You know what the stakes are.”

Esprë grimaced. “Do I want to live on the run for as long as I can, always looking over my shoulder, never sure when someone is going to kidnap me again or just slay me where I stand? Or would it be better to sail an airship straight into the collective maw of the most dangerous collection of creatures in the world?”

“That is an excellent summary,” said Xalt.

Esprë giggled at the warforged s deadpan praise at such a tense moment. She cut herself off an instant later, but not before she caught Kandler smirking at her just a bit too. Sallah, on the other hand, just looked annoyed.

“I wish to impress upon you how serious this is,” Sallah said, leaning toward the young elf.

“You don’t think I understand that?” Esprë wondered if the knight had meant to be insulting.

“I don’t think Kandler has been as clear with you about it as he could. If you decide to sail to Argonnessen, you will surely be killed.”

Behind Sallah, Kandler shook his head and pursed his lips, “No.”

Esprë suppressed the giggle tickling at her mouth. Sallah wasn’t so successful.