| THE LORELEI SIGNAL |
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| Written by Ripley Patton / Artwork by Lee Kuruganti |
| Heart of the Salamander |
They bound her wrists behind her back. Pillars of smoke rose into the night sky, blocking out the stars. Their
Captain called for a canopy to protect him from the rain of ash. It was followed by a table, chairs, and
refreshments. There, seated in the sand beside the river, they watched his men burn her village to the
ground.
Maddy glared at him from across the table as he placed his cup carefully in its saucer and picked up hers. He
raised it to her mouth, but she pinched her lips tight, letting the hot liquid scald them. Captain Gerhard, as
she'd heard him called, shrugged and set the cup back.
His hand moved towards her and she flinched, but he only fondled the amulet he had hung around her neck
on a silver chain.
"This pretty bauble," he said, brushing his thumb over the clear gem set amidst holy symbols of intricate
filigree, "was designed and blessed by The High Priest himself. I am told it saps a witch's power, making her
helpless. Are you helpless, witch?" He pulled the chain taut as he asked, exerting a subtle but steady
pressure that Maddy's neck muscles fought to counteract.
"I'm no witch," she insisted. How could this be? Why had Keller made a mounted attack on a defenseless
border village? Their capital was days away, through uncut wilderness, and they weren't at war with her
people. Rumor had it they were thick in battle against Tremia to the north. What had brought them this far
out of their way? And now this talk of witches. It made no sense.
"I am no witch," she said again, the muscles of her neck beginning to ache.
"Either way you are helpless," he said, releasing the chain so her head snapped back slightly. He frowned,
and looked past her to the fires. Behind her they cackled and snapped. She closed her ears to it. She tried
not to stare at the flames reflected in his eyes, or lean toward the heat that baked one side of her body while
the other froze. She had dreamed this fire a thousand times, but with more screaming. No one burned within
these buildings. Most had died before, with the volley of arrows, with the slash of swords as the Kellermen
had killed the men of the village. They had been farmers and fishermen, and they had been slaughtered.
Maddy had seen her own uncle run through with a sword.
A groaning crash came from behind, and she turned to see her uncle's house collapse in flame. They are not
inside, she told herself. Sweat tickled down between her shoulder blades and across a landscape of scars.
Sounds came to her, memories of sounds, the cracking of dry wood, the blow of a beam, the sizzle of her own
flesh, the screaming of her mother.
"Are you drawn to the fire, witch?" asked the man across from her, his eyes narrowing.
"Pig!" she cried, straining at her bonds. "Fire killed my parents! I am no witch!" But if I were, I'd kill you. Her
mouth was so dry nothing came when she tried to spit in his face.
"Perhaps you are not," the Captain said, leaning back in his chair, "but I was sent to this village to find a
witch, a fire witch. If you are not her, I will have to search among the other women, one by one, though the
testing for witches can be long and painful."
"No!" Maddy cried. But he ignored her, for just then a man on horseback emerged from the fiery dark and
dismounted, standing at attention before his superior.
"Report," the Captain commanded.
"Sixteen women and twenty-three children for slaves. The village was well-provisioned for winter. The
wagons are being re-supplied as we speak. Four decent horse and two milk cows. No weapons to speak of.
No losses or serious injuries. We will be ready to leave by morning."
"Too many slaves," the Captain said with a wave of his hand. "This is a witch hunt, and I am Captain of the
King's Guard, not a slave-trader. Leave half the women and all the children. That is, if any of the women are
left after test by ordeal. This one swears she is no witch. It is a good thing we have the river so handy. Shall
we do it now?" he asked, turning to Maddy.
"No," she said, looking down at the table. If he wanted her cowed, she would be cowed. She would be
anything to save the other women, even a witch.
"No? Then you are my witch after all," he said cheerfully. Then he turned back to his man. "Select the eight
healthiest women and divvy them up. You know which men have earned dibs on the pretty ones. I want no
fighting among the men, or you'll administer the lashes. Dismissed."
"Sir," said the soldier, turning on his heel and leading his horse away.
They were alone in the blaze of firelight. The Captain stood and walked behind her. Maddy stared straight
ahead, fighting the urge to follow him with her head, her eyes. His hand caressed her long braid, then flipped
it over her shoulder to expose the nape of her neck. Her skin crawled as he touched the ripple of scars there,
and she jerked forward, away from his touch, making him laugh.
"They say that last year a house afire fell on you, and you did not burn."
"You can see that I did," she squeezed out between clenched teeth.
"But not where it matters. There are no scars on your face, on your arms or hands, on your...womanly
attributes. Is this true?"
"A beam fell on my back and my uncle pulled me out. It was luck, not magic." Silence. The heat of the fire on
her back faded, replaced by the subtle heat of his body. She heard the creak of his leather boots, the patter
of river pebbles shifting. What was he doing?
"Luck or magic, call it what you will. I've seen men burned and they did not heal this fast, this well. The fire
favors you, witch."
"I'm not a...". His hand snaked around her neck and clamped over her mouth, silencing her.
"Don't say it." His hot breath licked her ear. "No more denials. My King is losing a war and so he sent me on a
goose chase because he believes a witch could turn the tide in his favor. Even now word will be on its way to
our enemies that we have one. Do you understand?"
She nodded, feeling the grip of his hand on her mouth soften. It didn't matter to him that she wasn't a witch.
Rumor and fear were the drapings he'd come for; she was simply a mannequin to hang them on.
He reached down, caught the amulet, and slipped it inside her neckline.
"Take it off and you die," he said, as the cold thing fell between her breasts. When he stepped away, she felt
the fires at her back, once again, like a strange comfort.
* * *
Maddy woke to find Captain Gerhard sitting on the edge of his cot, bare-chested and staring at her. She sat
up, flustered, and turned her back to him, shaking out her bed roll. It smelled awful. So did she. They'd been
four days riding over rough terrain, and she without a change of clothes. Fortunately, last night they had
camped near a stream.
"I need a wash. And the bedclothes too," she said, without turning to look at him. "May I go to the river
before camp breaks?"
"Not alone," was all he said.
Maddy bundled her blanket in her arms and crossed to the tent door. She fumbled with the straps that tied it
closed against the wind. Gerhard crossed the dirt floor, his boots already on, and reached around her. His
chest flexed against her back as he untied the knots slowly. She forced herself not to move, thinking it might
give him pleasure to feel her squirm. Despite all his staring and flexing, the Captain had not used her, or let
anyone else. She knew the other captive women had not fared so well.
"Angus," the Captain called over her shoulder to the man standing watch outside the tent, "take the witch to
wash."
"Yes, sir," snapped the man.
They walked down to the stream in silence. Several women were there, doing the morning's work. Seelie and
Bless washed the men's clothes, while Rhianna Kaine scrubbed last night's stew pot with sand. Maddy's heart
leapt. She hadn't seen much of her fellow captives. Captain Gerhard had insisted she ride double on his
horse, and they roamed ahead with the forward scouts. The supply wagons and the women were slow,
hanging back with the rear guard.
As Maddy approached, the other women looked up. When they saw who it was, they stared quickly back
down at their work. Rhianna whispered something to Bless and they all looked at her again, their eyes cold
and hard. Maddy tripped on a log, stumbled and almost fell. Did they believe her a witch? Or did they just
blame her for the raid and the Captain's preferential treatment?
"Get back to work," Angus yelled at them, and settled his lanky form down on a boulder along the shore. The
women turned away.
Maddy hiked her skirt, tucked it in at the waist, and waded in up to her knees. She sank her blanket to the
bottom of the stream and placed several hefty rocks on it so she could tend to washing herself.
Bending over, she dunked her head into the frigid water and out again. The amulet fell out of her bodice, and
dangled from her neck, its curved edge slipping into the river. She swished her hair around and watched
several small minnows come nibble at her ankles. A flash of red at the bottom of the stream caught her eye
and she stopped, staring, as it darted up toward her.
It was a scarlet salamander, half a hand long. Before she could react, it splashed up and latched onto the
bottom edge of the amulet, hanging by toothless gums. Maddy didn't move. She knew full well that the slime
on a salamander's skin was poison. It could kill a grown man in a day if he got a good dose. It also made the
tiny water creatures fireproof. Maddy had grown up next to the Rowan. Salamanders were always crawling
into the woodpile. Her childhood had been spent scooping errant salamanders out of the embers with the ash
shovel and depositing them hissing and steaming back into the river.
The salamander she faced now lunged upward, its jaw unhinging like a snake's. Maddy grabbed the chain,
trying to shake the thing off. It tracked her movements with its black watery eyes, its red tail swirling in the
water. The salamander lunged again, advancing up the amulet toward the chain, swallowing as it went.
Maddy held back a squeal of alarm, dancing a little in the water. The salamander lunged a third time. As its
lips came together at the chain, it dissolved before her very eyes, melting into the amulet like wax. The jewel
swirled red and white, settling on a ruby hue after a few moments of vibrant indecision.
Maddy looked up and saw Rhianna staring at the amulet with her mouth agape.
"What are you two up to?" growled Angus, causing Rhianna to clamp her mouth shut and turn away.
"I'm washing," Maddy answered, swirling the amulet in the water before stuffing it back down her bodice.
Was the salamander gone? Could it get back out? That thought made her skin crawl, but what else could she
do?
She rolled up her sleeves to wash her hands and arms, thinking frantically. The amulet had been made to
siphon away a witch's magic. But she wasn't a witch with magic to siphon. Had it, perhaps, in the absence of
that, sucked up the elemental magic of the salamander?
Maddy bent and removed the rocks from her blanket, letting the current wash through it.
"I know your little secret, witch," Angus said.
Maddy began to wring out her blanket, then turned so she could see the man sitting nonchalantly in the sun
on his rock at the water's edge. He was smiling a very unfriendly smile.
"Which one?" she asked. This one was a bully. Best not to let him get a whiff of fear.
"You've magicked the Captain somehow, even with that necklace on. He treats you like royalty. Ain't no
grunts or screams from his tent at night. That ain't natural." Angus lobbed a fist-sized rock into the water and
Maddy had to step aside to avoid being struck.
She hauled the wool blanket to shore, and spread it over a boulder well out of his reach. What could she say?
That every night, as she listened to the sounds of soldiers forcing themselves upon her friends, she felt a
horrible guilt mixed with utter relief that it wasn't her. That those who had once cared for her now looked at
her with eyes full of suspicion and jealousy. That the Captain had come for her, but they paid the price, while
she did not.
Suddenly, Angus was beside her, grabbing her arm and squeezing it painfully. "You think you're safe, witch?
You sell your soul to the devil and instead of being burned like you deserve, no one even gets to have you.
Captain says, 'hands off' and you get your little parade straight to the King hisself." Maddy felt his hand,
slipping along her wet arm, grinding into her flesh. "I think I know a way to break that spell."
"Angus!" Gerhard barked. He stood behind his man, in full uniform, his eyes grey and hard. Angus dropped his
hand from her arm, but the mark of his fingers remained in reds and purples. Gerhard's jaw clenched. "Never
touch the witch again. Is that understood?"
"She was messing with her necklace, sir," Angus lied.
"You are dismissed. Go see to the wagons."
"Yes, sir," said Angus, walking away and wiping his hand on his pants, as if she'd dirtied it. Gerhard didn't
give him a second glance.
"The weather is turning. We'll have rain today," the Captain said to her as if she were a gentlewoman. "Four
days to reach civilization, if you can call Embass that, but it does have a real inn with ale and beds. We'll make
you presentable for the King there. Then you and I will continue to on with a small guard. The convoy is too
slow. We must not keep His Majesty waiting. He is not a patient man."
He motioned for her to accompany him back to the tent and called to the other women, "You there, bring up
this blanket when it is dry."
* * *
One of Gerhard's rear guard reined in next to him, splashing mud up and over Maddy's boots. They were full
of water already. It had been raining heavily since mid-morning and the Captain had wrapped her in a wool
cloak. It did a fair job keeping her body dry but the garment managed to funnel all the water it shed straight
into her boots no matter how she adjusted it. Gerhard held his horse, Turnbuckle, steady and signaled the
man to report.
"Sir, we're slow going with the wagons in all this mud. One's stuck again."
"Use the women to help push it out. Half a league and there's cover at Cliffside. Dammit, we won't make it to
Embass in a fortnight at this rate." Thunder clapped. The sky flashed.
"Sir, we've got a man down," the soldier yelled above the din, his horse careening away. He jerked its reins
and brought the terrified creature back toward them.
"Who?" Gerhard asked.
"Angus, sir. He fell off his horse a mile back. Sick as a dog."
"I'll have Conway look at him when we stop."
"Yes, sir."
The man rode away, through the slanting rain. Maddy was shivering but she knew she was lucky. Turnbuckle
radiated heat from beneath her and the Captain's body acted as a wind break. She tried not to think about
the women behind her, slogging through the mud and pushing a wagon. The weather had grown colder as
they headed north into Keller. Turnbuckle surged forward, prancing through the muddy rut they followed.
Angus was sick. Every cloud has a silver lining.
* * *
Long after mid-day they arrived at a huge rock jutting up from the forest, its top back-dropped by broiling
thunder clouds. Gerhard and his front guard dismounted and tied the horses amidst sheltering trees.
"Hand me the cloak," Gerhard said, shaking it out when she did. Then he held out his hand to help her down,
something he had never done before. She took it, glad of it, as her legs were none too steady. He was
always doing that, alternating between barbarian and courtier without warning. It was very unsettling.
"Follow me," he said. "There's a cave here to keep us dry. When the wagons arrive, we'll eat." Maddy
followed along the cliff's face, her boots squishing loudly. Within a short walk the cliff side opened up,
undercut by a large cave. It wasn't large enough for the horses or the wagon, but all the people would fit.
Gerhard's men were already lighting a fire. In the back of the cave was a huge stash of dry wood. Obviously,
it was a well known place of refuge for the weary traveler.
Maddy sat on a flat rock, tipping out her boots and wringing her socks. Gerhard was giving orders. As the fire
built up, the air in the cave warmed and firelight danced across striated stone. Maddy lay her wet outer
clothing by the fire and tried to get warm. Shouts startled her out of a doze. From the front of the cave,
soaked, bedraggled men and women began to shuffle in. Supplies were being carried in from the wagon.
Gerhard headed outside to direct the mayhem.
Seelie entered, followed by two men carrying Angus. They set him on a bedroll close to the fire, and Seelie
began to remove his wet clothing, but her hands shook with cold. Maddy got up, intent to help, but suddenly
Bless and Rhianna were before her, blocking her way to the fire. They turned their backs, making a formidable
wall.
Then Rhianna spoke softly, without turning. "Let Seelie do it. She has the healer's touch and you do not. You
should tend to the Captain."
Maddy felt as if she had been slapped. She stumbled away, out of the firelight, and rubbed hot tears from her
eyes. They didn't want her help. They thought her place was with the man who had killed their husbands and
sons. And Seelie wasn't known for the healer's touch. Rhianna was. They didn't want Angus to get better.
Well, neither did she. She had only thought to help Seelie.
Maddy wiped her eyes and went back near the fire. Seelie had joined Bless and Rhianna across the cave
where the captive women were preparing a meal. Gerhard and a red-haired soldier now bent over Angus,
discussing his condition in low tones. Maddy had seen the red head, Conway, tending to the health and
injuries of the horses. Was he the closest thing they had to a healer? Did their King consider his men no more
than livestock?
Gerhard looked up, catching her eye, and motioned for her to join them. When she came alongside Conway
he pulled the blanket back, exposing Angus' right hand which was black as coal. The darkness was creeping
up his arm. His eyes were closed and swollen. Pink foam seeped from between his lips, running down into his
ear.
"What do you make of this, witch?" asked Gerhard.
"I have no idea," said Maddy. "He was fine this morning." And then she remembered the salamander. She
remembered the way Angus had grabbed her arm with that very hand. She remembered her mother's
description of salamander poisoning, a black rot that spread through the blood, burning a man from the inside
out.
But Angus hadn't touched the salamander. He had only touched her. She glanced at the bruise on her arm,
then down at her own hands. They looked perfectly normal. When she looked up, Rhianna caught her eyes
from across the cave and gave a slight nod, then returned to cooking. Gerhard was already walking away
with Conway, having trusted the innocence in her answer. Maddy looked down at Angus. His eyes opened
and focused on her. He licked his blackened lips, and mouthed ‘witch’, then closed his eyes again.
* * *
Angus' life ended near dawn, but the rain did not. It continued to pour in sheets with the occasional loud
patter of hailstones, then back to rain. Maddy had not slept. All night she rehearsed in her mind this strange
turn of events. The salamander had gone into the amulet. Angus had touched her and been poisoned. The
women knew what she had done. They had told her to ‘tend’ to the Captain. The fool Captain! His amulet had
somehow given her the power to kill him and all his men with only a touch. But could she? Angus had grabbed
her, tried to hurt her. His violent nature had been his demise. The Captain was responsible for the attack on
the village, for the death of her uncle and all the men. He had ordered the burning and pillaging. After all that,
how could she feel indebted to him? But she did. He had not used her body. He had protected her.
She stood at the cave's wide mouth watching a curtain of water pour down in front of her. Occasionally, the
crack of rocks thrown together, or the grunt of men working, drifted to her from the woods. The sounds
ceased and, soon after, Gerhard and five men emerged from the trees. They were all drenched to the bone
but the Captain looked pale, like a ghost. Perhaps he was already poisoned. He had given her a hand down
from his horse, like a gentleman. Had he worn his riding gloves then? She couldn't remember.
"The body is covered. It is all we can do in this rain," he said, coming alongside her and pulling his gloves off.
She couldn't resist looking at his palms. They were blistered but not black. He caught her glance and held
them out.
"From hard work, my witch." He said the last so softly, like an endearment. Then his voice changed to stone.
"You were with him just before he fell ill. Let me see yours." She held out her hands, like a naughty child,
thinking he knew, thinking he might kill her right there. But it was only relief that flashed across his face.
"Good. No sign. Good," he said and moved his hand to touch hers. Maddy snatched her hands back. The
Captain's eyes caught hers, anger burning in them.
"They're like ice," she said, looking down at her hands. It was such a terrible lie, she almost laughed. Instead,
she asked, "Might I have a pair of gloves?"
"I'll see what I can do," he said, and walked back into the cave. Maddy stood for a long time, looking out
through the curtain of water. He didn't suspect because he knew she was no witch. The way he'd mocked the
power of the amulet when he'd first put it on her, she doubted he believed in magic at all. Now he was afraid
she'd been poisoned by Angus. His puppet witch, his tool, must not come to any harm. Or perhaps he cared
for her. Whatever the case, she must not let him find out the truth.
* * *
They were still in the cave that night, waiting out the storms, when the Captain fell ill. During the evening
meal he dropped his bowl and keeled over almost into the fire. His right hand had begun to swell. His palm
was now covered in blisters, but it was only brown, instead of black like Angus'. Conway rushed to him while
Maddy looked on, wringing her gloved hands. Gerhard had brought her the beautiful kid-leather gloves, made
for a lady, only a few hours before. He had seemed fine then.
Seelie bustled forward and Conway moved aside, happy to let a woman tend the sick. The men gathered
around the fire in a nervous mob, jostling Maddy toward the outskirts. She recognized the second-in-
command's voice giving orders, trying to calm fears and restore order. Near her, men murmured of plague or
magic and Maddy knew enough to make herself scarce, melting into the shadows along the cave wall. She
gave a start when Rhianna's voice came out of the darkness next to her.
"What are you about, girl?"
"I...he touched me. I didn’t mean to," Maddy said.
"Fie!" Rhianna practically spat. "This is our chance, you little fool. Take those gloves off and kill them all."
"No!" Maddy cried, shaking her head. Her parents had burned. Her own back knew the agony of fire. She
didn't want this power.
"Do you think they'll hesitate to burn you when they realize what you've done? Your Captain is as good as
dead. At your hand. He can no longer protect you."
"He didn't know it was me. I'll be safe," Maddy whispered, trying to make it true.
"Not for long," Rhianna scoffed, "They already suspect us. We have reason to hate them, to poison their food,
even though they make us eat first. They'll think we've done it somehow. They may kill us first, but they will
come for you in the end. Mark my words."
"You don't understand."
"I do, child. I am a healer. They are the tumor. Burn them out, or we die."
Maddy stood, her body frozen, her mind racing. The Captain might already be dead. He was her only
protection. Now all the women were in danger. If she didn't kill these men, and she survived, they would use
her to wage their war later. She had become a weapon of their making. She could let someone else wield her,
or she could take hold of herself. Rhianna was older, wiser. She must be right. Now was their only chance.
"How? How can I do it? If I just go about touching them, they will suspect."
"There is a barrel of ale in one of the wagons." Rhianna said. "Ale wards off some ills. We'll have Seelie
suggest it. Every one of these men wants an excuse for a stiff drink. They will all sleep deep tonight. And
while they sleep you must go to each bedroll and touch each man."
"In their sleep?" Maddy asked. It was a cold-blooded act, if ever there was one.
"Will you do it?" Rhianna demanded.
"Yes," Maddy whispered.
* * *
Maddy huddled in her bedroll as far from the fire as she could get. The ale was brought out, and the men did
drink, but they did not sleep. Instead, they sat around the fire, deep into the night, feeding each other's fears
as they passed the bottle.
The Captain was still alive and his symptoms no worse. He had touched her gently and, perhaps, had only
gotten a small dose. When the men began bellowing drunkenly, "Where's the witch?" Maddy prayed he would
wake and save her.
She heard them coming for her, stumbling in the dark over their own feet, and she began to crawl on hands
and knees toward the entrance to the cave. When she was almost there, someone rounded the corner of the
cave, coming from outside. Maddy froze, listening, fearing it was one of the men coming back from a piss. It
dawned on her that the rain had finally stopped.
"This is her doing," came a slurred voice from behind.
"She burnt Angus and the Captain."
"We'll burn her, the whore."
"Where's the witch?"
The voices echoed, coming closer. Maddy looked up to see Rhianna silhouetted in the entrance to the cave.
"Rhianna," Maddy whispered, relieved.
"She's here," Rhianna called out.
Maddy crouched, stunned, as the men came up behind her. One grabbed her by the hair and yanked her
head back. Another kicked her in the ribs. She tried to curl into a protective ball, but two grabbed her arms, as
more blows rained down.
"Wait," Rhianna cried, and the men stopped for a moment. Rhianna reached out, grabbing Maddy's dress,
careful not to touch skin to skin, and tore it down the front. The men laughed and cheered, tearing the rest of
her clothing off. Fists pounded her skin, pain blended with pain. She would have fallen, but one man held her
up by her hair for the rest. Eventually, her hair gave way, ripping from her scalp and she fell to the ground in
a puddle of her own blood. The voices blended into one chant, echoing in Maddy's ears, "Burn the witch. Burn
the witch. Burn the witch."
"Take the amulet," she heard Rhiaana say. One of the men reached out, closed his hand over the amulet, and
began screaming in Maddy's ear. She smelled burning flesh just before the darkness took her.
* * *
They bound her wrists behind her back. The post they had tied her to leaned, the ground still too wet to be
the firmest setting. At her feet they had stacked dry wood from the cave. Her blurred eyes cleared enough to
see the women of her village in the crowd. Toward the front Rhianna stood next to a man with a bandaged
hand. Was it the Captain? No. Just one of the lesser men. They had left her naked, even her gloves stripped
away, but she wasn’t cold. Something lay between her breasts, warming her. She looked down, with
surprise, at the amulet.
Rhianna darted forward with a torch. She held it near Maddy's face, looking into her eyes. "It was the only
way," she said, and lowered the flame to wood.
Men rushed forward, cheering and adding more fire. Maddy closed her eyes, waiting for the pain. Sounds
came to her, memories of sounds, the cracking of dry wood, the blow of a beam, the sizzle of her own flesh,
the screaming of her mother. She should have burned then, with them. But fire had spared her for its
purposes, for this burning. It had always been there, in the corner of her vision, the flames, the heat, the
crimson glow, beckoning. But why? Would it take her soon? She could feel the heat now, licking at her skin.
Her body felt like a throbbing coal, like the sun, like flame itself. But where was the pain?
She opened her eyes and stared into the light. Oranges and reds flowed around her like water. They lapped
her arms and caressed her face. It was so beautiful, she reached out to touch it and found her hands were
free, the ropes burned away. She cupped flame in her palm, squeezed it, watched it drip between her fingers.
Her feet were unbound, but she did not fall from the post. She hovered on waves of heat, like a spark, and
the amulet floated too, rising up on its chain in front of her chest. The chain of silver melted away and the
setting with it until all that was left was the red stone, gem of embers, heart of the salamander, pulsing with
power. It hung in front of her for a moment, then transformed into the salamander who swam among the
flames as easily as she did.
"Choose," it said, but she did not understand. What choices had she ever had? The salamander twitched his
tail, pointing beyond the flames, beyond the warm cocoon of fire to the crowd. She saw them now only as
black silhouettes, dark frozen shades, so paltry was their life, their light and movement, compared to the
racing dance of fire. At first, they all looked the same, motionless black blobs. But then she noticed it, a fire
beginning to ignite upon their fists. It was beautiful, delineating each finger bone and knuckle hair to a
crimson glow. It was her fire and it called to her, as it spread up their arms, over their shoulders, and toward
their throats, to light their faces. It was the men who had beaten her, all of them, beginning to burn from the
inside out, each one on his way to an agonizing, poison death.
"Live by the fire, or die by the fire," the salamander said, swimming right up to her face, his black eyes wet
with paradox. And finally she understood him, this creature of water and fire, a being who could both burn
and was proof against the flame. One could burn, or be burned, each with its own cost. She could choose to
die, let the fire take her as Rhianna had planned, for the sake of the rest. Or she could take up fire, and live.
That was her choice.
Maddy reached out and grasped the salamander. She pulled it, flaming, between her breasts where once it
had lain in stone against her will.
Fire exploded outward, burning everything in its path.
* * *
She woke in the morning, in a pile of ash, in a circle of ash, in a field of ash, surrounded by a scorched forest.
She was naked but her body was no longer bruised or bloody, and when she touched the back of her neck,
there were no scars.
She got up, ash puffing in little eddies around her feet as she walked. She came to a circle of bones,
skeletons lying under a blanket of ash, their outlines still clear. They were all dead, Rhianna, Seelie, Bless and
the Captain's men. Should she feel grief?
"No," the salamander heart in her whispered. "Fire burns. That is what it does, but it does not grieve."
Maddy turned away from the dead and walked toward the huge rock rising out of the ground. The grove of
trees where the horses had been tethered was gone, burned to stumps. There were piles of bones there as
well. She rounded a singed corner of rock and came to the cave entrance. She walked in and found the
bedrolls still lain out, men's packs and empty bottles of ale strewn everywhere, the wagon's supplies stacked
neatly, and the Captain unconscious beside a dead fire. She touched his swollen hand, drawing the
salamander's fire into herself where it belonged, controlling its flow easily now.
She would find some clothes. When the Captain woke, she would tell him what had happened, of the choice
she'd made to live, and kill. He would not be happy to have lost the men. And he wouldn't wholly believe her
power, until she showed him. After that, he would want even more to take her to his King. But that was
another choice, her choice. A choice in a long line of choices, burning their way into the future.
Captain called for a canopy to protect him from the rain of ash. It was followed by a table, chairs, and
refreshments. There, seated in the sand beside the river, they watched his men burn her village to the
ground.
Maddy glared at him from across the table as he placed his cup carefully in its saucer and picked up hers. He
raised it to her mouth, but she pinched her lips tight, letting the hot liquid scald them. Captain Gerhard, as
she'd heard him called, shrugged and set the cup back.
His hand moved towards her and she flinched, but he only fondled the amulet he had hung around her neck
on a silver chain.
"This pretty bauble," he said, brushing his thumb over the clear gem set amidst holy symbols of intricate
filigree, "was designed and blessed by The High Priest himself. I am told it saps a witch's power, making her
helpless. Are you helpless, witch?" He pulled the chain taut as he asked, exerting a subtle but steady
pressure that Maddy's neck muscles fought to counteract.
"I'm no witch," she insisted. How could this be? Why had Keller made a mounted attack on a defenseless
border village? Their capital was days away, through uncut wilderness, and they weren't at war with her
people. Rumor had it they were thick in battle against Tremia to the north. What had brought them this far
out of their way? And now this talk of witches. It made no sense.
"I am no witch," she said again, the muscles of her neck beginning to ache.
"Either way you are helpless," he said, releasing the chain so her head snapped back slightly. He frowned,
and looked past her to the fires. Behind her they cackled and snapped. She closed her ears to it. She tried
not to stare at the flames reflected in his eyes, or lean toward the heat that baked one side of her body while
the other froze. She had dreamed this fire a thousand times, but with more screaming. No one burned within
these buildings. Most had died before, with the volley of arrows, with the slash of swords as the Kellermen
had killed the men of the village. They had been farmers and fishermen, and they had been slaughtered.
Maddy had seen her own uncle run through with a sword.
A groaning crash came from behind, and she turned to see her uncle's house collapse in flame. They are not
inside, she told herself. Sweat tickled down between her shoulder blades and across a landscape of scars.
Sounds came to her, memories of sounds, the cracking of dry wood, the blow of a beam, the sizzle of her own
flesh, the screaming of her mother.
"Are you drawn to the fire, witch?" asked the man across from her, his eyes narrowing.
"Pig!" she cried, straining at her bonds. "Fire killed my parents! I am no witch!" But if I were, I'd kill you. Her
mouth was so dry nothing came when she tried to spit in his face.
"Perhaps you are not," the Captain said, leaning back in his chair, "but I was sent to this village to find a
witch, a fire witch. If you are not her, I will have to search among the other women, one by one, though the
testing for witches can be long and painful."
"No!" Maddy cried. But he ignored her, for just then a man on horseback emerged from the fiery dark and
dismounted, standing at attention before his superior.
"Report," the Captain commanded.
"Sixteen women and twenty-three children for slaves. The village was well-provisioned for winter. The
wagons are being re-supplied as we speak. Four decent horse and two milk cows. No weapons to speak of.
No losses or serious injuries. We will be ready to leave by morning."
"Too many slaves," the Captain said with a wave of his hand. "This is a witch hunt, and I am Captain of the
King's Guard, not a slave-trader. Leave half the women and all the children. That is, if any of the women are
left after test by ordeal. This one swears she is no witch. It is a good thing we have the river so handy. Shall
we do it now?" he asked, turning to Maddy.
"No," she said, looking down at the table. If he wanted her cowed, she would be cowed. She would be
anything to save the other women, even a witch.
"No? Then you are my witch after all," he said cheerfully. Then he turned back to his man. "Select the eight
healthiest women and divvy them up. You know which men have earned dibs on the pretty ones. I want no
fighting among the men, or you'll administer the lashes. Dismissed."
"Sir," said the soldier, turning on his heel and leading his horse away.
They were alone in the blaze of firelight. The Captain stood and walked behind her. Maddy stared straight
ahead, fighting the urge to follow him with her head, her eyes. His hand caressed her long braid, then flipped
it over her shoulder to expose the nape of her neck. Her skin crawled as he touched the ripple of scars there,
and she jerked forward, away from his touch, making him laugh.
"They say that last year a house afire fell on you, and you did not burn."
"You can see that I did," she squeezed out between clenched teeth.
"But not where it matters. There are no scars on your face, on your arms or hands, on your...womanly
attributes. Is this true?"
"A beam fell on my back and my uncle pulled me out. It was luck, not magic." Silence. The heat of the fire on
her back faded, replaced by the subtle heat of his body. She heard the creak of his leather boots, the patter
of river pebbles shifting. What was he doing?
"Luck or magic, call it what you will. I've seen men burned and they did not heal this fast, this well. The fire
favors you, witch."
"I'm not a...". His hand snaked around her neck and clamped over her mouth, silencing her.
"Don't say it." His hot breath licked her ear. "No more denials. My King is losing a war and so he sent me on a
goose chase because he believes a witch could turn the tide in his favor. Even now word will be on its way to
our enemies that we have one. Do you understand?"
She nodded, feeling the grip of his hand on her mouth soften. It didn't matter to him that she wasn't a witch.
Rumor and fear were the drapings he'd come for; she was simply a mannequin to hang them on.
He reached down, caught the amulet, and slipped it inside her neckline.
"Take it off and you die," he said, as the cold thing fell between her breasts. When he stepped away, she felt
the fires at her back, once again, like a strange comfort.
* * *
Maddy woke to find Captain Gerhard sitting on the edge of his cot, bare-chested and staring at her. She sat
up, flustered, and turned her back to him, shaking out her bed roll. It smelled awful. So did she. They'd been
four days riding over rough terrain, and she without a change of clothes. Fortunately, last night they had
camped near a stream.
"I need a wash. And the bedclothes too," she said, without turning to look at him. "May I go to the river
before camp breaks?"
"Not alone," was all he said.
Maddy bundled her blanket in her arms and crossed to the tent door. She fumbled with the straps that tied it
closed against the wind. Gerhard crossed the dirt floor, his boots already on, and reached around her. His
chest flexed against her back as he untied the knots slowly. She forced herself not to move, thinking it might
give him pleasure to feel her squirm. Despite all his staring and flexing, the Captain had not used her, or let
anyone else. She knew the other captive women had not fared so well.
"Angus," the Captain called over her shoulder to the man standing watch outside the tent, "take the witch to
wash."
"Yes, sir," snapped the man.
They walked down to the stream in silence. Several women were there, doing the morning's work. Seelie and
Bless washed the men's clothes, while Rhianna Kaine scrubbed last night's stew pot with sand. Maddy's heart
leapt. She hadn't seen much of her fellow captives. Captain Gerhard had insisted she ride double on his
horse, and they roamed ahead with the forward scouts. The supply wagons and the women were slow,
hanging back with the rear guard.
As Maddy approached, the other women looked up. When they saw who it was, they stared quickly back
down at their work. Rhianna whispered something to Bless and they all looked at her again, their eyes cold
and hard. Maddy tripped on a log, stumbled and almost fell. Did they believe her a witch? Or did they just
blame her for the raid and the Captain's preferential treatment?
"Get back to work," Angus yelled at them, and settled his lanky form down on a boulder along the shore. The
women turned away.
Maddy hiked her skirt, tucked it in at the waist, and waded in up to her knees. She sank her blanket to the
bottom of the stream and placed several hefty rocks on it so she could tend to washing herself.
Bending over, she dunked her head into the frigid water and out again. The amulet fell out of her bodice, and
dangled from her neck, its curved edge slipping into the river. She swished her hair around and watched
several small minnows come nibble at her ankles. A flash of red at the bottom of the stream caught her eye
and she stopped, staring, as it darted up toward her.
It was a scarlet salamander, half a hand long. Before she could react, it splashed up and latched onto the
bottom edge of the amulet, hanging by toothless gums. Maddy didn't move. She knew full well that the slime
on a salamander's skin was poison. It could kill a grown man in a day if he got a good dose. It also made the
tiny water creatures fireproof. Maddy had grown up next to the Rowan. Salamanders were always crawling
into the woodpile. Her childhood had been spent scooping errant salamanders out of the embers with the ash
shovel and depositing them hissing and steaming back into the river.
The salamander she faced now lunged upward, its jaw unhinging like a snake's. Maddy grabbed the chain,
trying to shake the thing off. It tracked her movements with its black watery eyes, its red tail swirling in the
water. The salamander lunged again, advancing up the amulet toward the chain, swallowing as it went.
Maddy held back a squeal of alarm, dancing a little in the water. The salamander lunged a third time. As its
lips came together at the chain, it dissolved before her very eyes, melting into the amulet like wax. The jewel
swirled red and white, settling on a ruby hue after a few moments of vibrant indecision.
Maddy looked up and saw Rhianna staring at the amulet with her mouth agape.
"What are you two up to?" growled Angus, causing Rhianna to clamp her mouth shut and turn away.
"I'm washing," Maddy answered, swirling the amulet in the water before stuffing it back down her bodice.
Was the salamander gone? Could it get back out? That thought made her skin crawl, but what else could she
do?
She rolled up her sleeves to wash her hands and arms, thinking frantically. The amulet had been made to
siphon away a witch's magic. But she wasn't a witch with magic to siphon. Had it, perhaps, in the absence of
that, sucked up the elemental magic of the salamander?
Maddy bent and removed the rocks from her blanket, letting the current wash through it.
"I know your little secret, witch," Angus said.
Maddy began to wring out her blanket, then turned so she could see the man sitting nonchalantly in the sun
on his rock at the water's edge. He was smiling a very unfriendly smile.
"Which one?" she asked. This one was a bully. Best not to let him get a whiff of fear.
"You've magicked the Captain somehow, even with that necklace on. He treats you like royalty. Ain't no
grunts or screams from his tent at night. That ain't natural." Angus lobbed a fist-sized rock into the water and
Maddy had to step aside to avoid being struck.
She hauled the wool blanket to shore, and spread it over a boulder well out of his reach. What could she say?
That every night, as she listened to the sounds of soldiers forcing themselves upon her friends, she felt a
horrible guilt mixed with utter relief that it wasn't her. That those who had once cared for her now looked at
her with eyes full of suspicion and jealousy. That the Captain had come for her, but they paid the price, while
she did not.
Suddenly, Angus was beside her, grabbing her arm and squeezing it painfully. "You think you're safe, witch?
You sell your soul to the devil and instead of being burned like you deserve, no one even gets to have you.
Captain says, 'hands off' and you get your little parade straight to the King hisself." Maddy felt his hand,
slipping along her wet arm, grinding into her flesh. "I think I know a way to break that spell."
"Angus!" Gerhard barked. He stood behind his man, in full uniform, his eyes grey and hard. Angus dropped his
hand from her arm, but the mark of his fingers remained in reds and purples. Gerhard's jaw clenched. "Never
touch the witch again. Is that understood?"
"She was messing with her necklace, sir," Angus lied.
"You are dismissed. Go see to the wagons."
"Yes, sir," said Angus, walking away and wiping his hand on his pants, as if she'd dirtied it. Gerhard didn't
give him a second glance.
"The weather is turning. We'll have rain today," the Captain said to her as if she were a gentlewoman. "Four
days to reach civilization, if you can call Embass that, but it does have a real inn with ale and beds. We'll make
you presentable for the King there. Then you and I will continue to on with a small guard. The convoy is too
slow. We must not keep His Majesty waiting. He is not a patient man."
He motioned for her to accompany him back to the tent and called to the other women, "You there, bring up
this blanket when it is dry."
* * *
One of Gerhard's rear guard reined in next to him, splashing mud up and over Maddy's boots. They were full
of water already. It had been raining heavily since mid-morning and the Captain had wrapped her in a wool
cloak. It did a fair job keeping her body dry but the garment managed to funnel all the water it shed straight
into her boots no matter how she adjusted it. Gerhard held his horse, Turnbuckle, steady and signaled the
man to report.
"Sir, we're slow going with the wagons in all this mud. One's stuck again."
"Use the women to help push it out. Half a league and there's cover at Cliffside. Dammit, we won't make it to
Embass in a fortnight at this rate." Thunder clapped. The sky flashed.
"Sir, we've got a man down," the soldier yelled above the din, his horse careening away. He jerked its reins
and brought the terrified creature back toward them.
"Who?" Gerhard asked.
"Angus, sir. He fell off his horse a mile back. Sick as a dog."
"I'll have Conway look at him when we stop."
"Yes, sir."
The man rode away, through the slanting rain. Maddy was shivering but she knew she was lucky. Turnbuckle
radiated heat from beneath her and the Captain's body acted as a wind break. She tried not to think about
the women behind her, slogging through the mud and pushing a wagon. The weather had grown colder as
they headed north into Keller. Turnbuckle surged forward, prancing through the muddy rut they followed.
Angus was sick. Every cloud has a silver lining.
* * *
Long after mid-day they arrived at a huge rock jutting up from the forest, its top back-dropped by broiling
thunder clouds. Gerhard and his front guard dismounted and tied the horses amidst sheltering trees.
"Hand me the cloak," Gerhard said, shaking it out when she did. Then he held out his hand to help her down,
something he had never done before. She took it, glad of it, as her legs were none too steady. He was
always doing that, alternating between barbarian and courtier without warning. It was very unsettling.
"Follow me," he said. "There's a cave here to keep us dry. When the wagons arrive, we'll eat." Maddy
followed along the cliff's face, her boots squishing loudly. Within a short walk the cliff side opened up,
undercut by a large cave. It wasn't large enough for the horses or the wagon, but all the people would fit.
Gerhard's men were already lighting a fire. In the back of the cave was a huge stash of dry wood. Obviously,
it was a well known place of refuge for the weary traveler.
Maddy sat on a flat rock, tipping out her boots and wringing her socks. Gerhard was giving orders. As the fire
built up, the air in the cave warmed and firelight danced across striated stone. Maddy lay her wet outer
clothing by the fire and tried to get warm. Shouts startled her out of a doze. From the front of the cave,
soaked, bedraggled men and women began to shuffle in. Supplies were being carried in from the wagon.
Gerhard headed outside to direct the mayhem.
Seelie entered, followed by two men carrying Angus. They set him on a bedroll close to the fire, and Seelie
began to remove his wet clothing, but her hands shook with cold. Maddy got up, intent to help, but suddenly
Bless and Rhianna were before her, blocking her way to the fire. They turned their backs, making a formidable
wall.
Then Rhianna spoke softly, without turning. "Let Seelie do it. She has the healer's touch and you do not. You
should tend to the Captain."
Maddy felt as if she had been slapped. She stumbled away, out of the firelight, and rubbed hot tears from her
eyes. They didn't want her help. They thought her place was with the man who had killed their husbands and
sons. And Seelie wasn't known for the healer's touch. Rhianna was. They didn't want Angus to get better.
Well, neither did she. She had only thought to help Seelie.
Maddy wiped her eyes and went back near the fire. Seelie had joined Bless and Rhianna across the cave
where the captive women were preparing a meal. Gerhard and a red-haired soldier now bent over Angus,
discussing his condition in low tones. Maddy had seen the red head, Conway, tending to the health and
injuries of the horses. Was he the closest thing they had to a healer? Did their King consider his men no more
than livestock?
Gerhard looked up, catching her eye, and motioned for her to join them. When she came alongside Conway
he pulled the blanket back, exposing Angus' right hand which was black as coal. The darkness was creeping
up his arm. His eyes were closed and swollen. Pink foam seeped from between his lips, running down into his
ear.
"What do you make of this, witch?" asked Gerhard.
"I have no idea," said Maddy. "He was fine this morning." And then she remembered the salamander. She
remembered the way Angus had grabbed her arm with that very hand. She remembered her mother's
description of salamander poisoning, a black rot that spread through the blood, burning a man from the inside
out.
But Angus hadn't touched the salamander. He had only touched her. She glanced at the bruise on her arm,
then down at her own hands. They looked perfectly normal. When she looked up, Rhianna caught her eyes
from across the cave and gave a slight nod, then returned to cooking. Gerhard was already walking away
with Conway, having trusted the innocence in her answer. Maddy looked down at Angus. His eyes opened
and focused on her. He licked his blackened lips, and mouthed ‘witch’, then closed his eyes again.
* * *
Angus' life ended near dawn, but the rain did not. It continued to pour in sheets with the occasional loud
patter of hailstones, then back to rain. Maddy had not slept. All night she rehearsed in her mind this strange
turn of events. The salamander had gone into the amulet. Angus had touched her and been poisoned. The
women knew what she had done. They had told her to ‘tend’ to the Captain. The fool Captain! His amulet had
somehow given her the power to kill him and all his men with only a touch. But could she? Angus had grabbed
her, tried to hurt her. His violent nature had been his demise. The Captain was responsible for the attack on
the village, for the death of her uncle and all the men. He had ordered the burning and pillaging. After all that,
how could she feel indebted to him? But she did. He had not used her body. He had protected her.
She stood at the cave's wide mouth watching a curtain of water pour down in front of her. Occasionally, the
crack of rocks thrown together, or the grunt of men working, drifted to her from the woods. The sounds
ceased and, soon after, Gerhard and five men emerged from the trees. They were all drenched to the bone
but the Captain looked pale, like a ghost. Perhaps he was already poisoned. He had given her a hand down
from his horse, like a gentleman. Had he worn his riding gloves then? She couldn't remember.
"The body is covered. It is all we can do in this rain," he said, coming alongside her and pulling his gloves off.
She couldn't resist looking at his palms. They were blistered but not black. He caught her glance and held
them out.
"From hard work, my witch." He said the last so softly, like an endearment. Then his voice changed to stone.
"You were with him just before he fell ill. Let me see yours." She held out her hands, like a naughty child,
thinking he knew, thinking he might kill her right there. But it was only relief that flashed across his face.
"Good. No sign. Good," he said and moved his hand to touch hers. Maddy snatched her hands back. The
Captain's eyes caught hers, anger burning in them.
"They're like ice," she said, looking down at her hands. It was such a terrible lie, she almost laughed. Instead,
she asked, "Might I have a pair of gloves?"
"I'll see what I can do," he said, and walked back into the cave. Maddy stood for a long time, looking out
through the curtain of water. He didn't suspect because he knew she was no witch. The way he'd mocked the
power of the amulet when he'd first put it on her, she doubted he believed in magic at all. Now he was afraid
she'd been poisoned by Angus. His puppet witch, his tool, must not come to any harm. Or perhaps he cared
for her. Whatever the case, she must not let him find out the truth.
* * *
They were still in the cave that night, waiting out the storms, when the Captain fell ill. During the evening
meal he dropped his bowl and keeled over almost into the fire. His right hand had begun to swell. His palm
was now covered in blisters, but it was only brown, instead of black like Angus'. Conway rushed to him while
Maddy looked on, wringing her gloved hands. Gerhard had brought her the beautiful kid-leather gloves, made
for a lady, only a few hours before. He had seemed fine then.
Seelie bustled forward and Conway moved aside, happy to let a woman tend the sick. The men gathered
around the fire in a nervous mob, jostling Maddy toward the outskirts. She recognized the second-in-
command's voice giving orders, trying to calm fears and restore order. Near her, men murmured of plague or
magic and Maddy knew enough to make herself scarce, melting into the shadows along the cave wall. She
gave a start when Rhianna's voice came out of the darkness next to her.
"What are you about, girl?"
"I...he touched me. I didn’t mean to," Maddy said.
"Fie!" Rhianna practically spat. "This is our chance, you little fool. Take those gloves off and kill them all."
"No!" Maddy cried, shaking her head. Her parents had burned. Her own back knew the agony of fire. She
didn't want this power.
"Do you think they'll hesitate to burn you when they realize what you've done? Your Captain is as good as
dead. At your hand. He can no longer protect you."
"He didn't know it was me. I'll be safe," Maddy whispered, trying to make it true.
"Not for long," Rhianna scoffed, "They already suspect us. We have reason to hate them, to poison their food,
even though they make us eat first. They'll think we've done it somehow. They may kill us first, but they will
come for you in the end. Mark my words."
"You don't understand."
"I do, child. I am a healer. They are the tumor. Burn them out, or we die."
Maddy stood, her body frozen, her mind racing. The Captain might already be dead. He was her only
protection. Now all the women were in danger. If she didn't kill these men, and she survived, they would use
her to wage their war later. She had become a weapon of their making. She could let someone else wield her,
or she could take hold of herself. Rhianna was older, wiser. She must be right. Now was their only chance.
"How? How can I do it? If I just go about touching them, they will suspect."
"There is a barrel of ale in one of the wagons." Rhianna said. "Ale wards off some ills. We'll have Seelie
suggest it. Every one of these men wants an excuse for a stiff drink. They will all sleep deep tonight. And
while they sleep you must go to each bedroll and touch each man."
"In their sleep?" Maddy asked. It was a cold-blooded act, if ever there was one.
"Will you do it?" Rhianna demanded.
"Yes," Maddy whispered.
* * *
Maddy huddled in her bedroll as far from the fire as she could get. The ale was brought out, and the men did
drink, but they did not sleep. Instead, they sat around the fire, deep into the night, feeding each other's fears
as they passed the bottle.
The Captain was still alive and his symptoms no worse. He had touched her gently and, perhaps, had only
gotten a small dose. When the men began bellowing drunkenly, "Where's the witch?" Maddy prayed he would
wake and save her.
She heard them coming for her, stumbling in the dark over their own feet, and she began to crawl on hands
and knees toward the entrance to the cave. When she was almost there, someone rounded the corner of the
cave, coming from outside. Maddy froze, listening, fearing it was one of the men coming back from a piss. It
dawned on her that the rain had finally stopped.
"This is her doing," came a slurred voice from behind.
"She burnt Angus and the Captain."
"We'll burn her, the whore."
"Where's the witch?"
The voices echoed, coming closer. Maddy looked up to see Rhianna silhouetted in the entrance to the cave.
"Rhianna," Maddy whispered, relieved.
"She's here," Rhianna called out.
Maddy crouched, stunned, as the men came up behind her. One grabbed her by the hair and yanked her
head back. Another kicked her in the ribs. She tried to curl into a protective ball, but two grabbed her arms, as
more blows rained down.
"Wait," Rhianna cried, and the men stopped for a moment. Rhianna reached out, grabbing Maddy's dress,
careful not to touch skin to skin, and tore it down the front. The men laughed and cheered, tearing the rest of
her clothing off. Fists pounded her skin, pain blended with pain. She would have fallen, but one man held her
up by her hair for the rest. Eventually, her hair gave way, ripping from her scalp and she fell to the ground in
a puddle of her own blood. The voices blended into one chant, echoing in Maddy's ears, "Burn the witch. Burn
the witch. Burn the witch."
"Take the amulet," she heard Rhiaana say. One of the men reached out, closed his hand over the amulet, and
began screaming in Maddy's ear. She smelled burning flesh just before the darkness took her.
* * *
They bound her wrists behind her back. The post they had tied her to leaned, the ground still too wet to be
the firmest setting. At her feet they had stacked dry wood from the cave. Her blurred eyes cleared enough to
see the women of her village in the crowd. Toward the front Rhianna stood next to a man with a bandaged
hand. Was it the Captain? No. Just one of the lesser men. They had left her naked, even her gloves stripped
away, but she wasn’t cold. Something lay between her breasts, warming her. She looked down, with
surprise, at the amulet.
Rhianna darted forward with a torch. She held it near Maddy's face, looking into her eyes. "It was the only
way," she said, and lowered the flame to wood.
Men rushed forward, cheering and adding more fire. Maddy closed her eyes, waiting for the pain. Sounds
came to her, memories of sounds, the cracking of dry wood, the blow of a beam, the sizzle of her own flesh,
the screaming of her mother. She should have burned then, with them. But fire had spared her for its
purposes, for this burning. It had always been there, in the corner of her vision, the flames, the heat, the
crimson glow, beckoning. But why? Would it take her soon? She could feel the heat now, licking at her skin.
Her body felt like a throbbing coal, like the sun, like flame itself. But where was the pain?
She opened her eyes and stared into the light. Oranges and reds flowed around her like water. They lapped
her arms and caressed her face. It was so beautiful, she reached out to touch it and found her hands were
free, the ropes burned away. She cupped flame in her palm, squeezed it, watched it drip between her fingers.
Her feet were unbound, but she did not fall from the post. She hovered on waves of heat, like a spark, and
the amulet floated too, rising up on its chain in front of her chest. The chain of silver melted away and the
setting with it until all that was left was the red stone, gem of embers, heart of the salamander, pulsing with
power. It hung in front of her for a moment, then transformed into the salamander who swam among the
flames as easily as she did.
"Choose," it said, but she did not understand. What choices had she ever had? The salamander twitched his
tail, pointing beyond the flames, beyond the warm cocoon of fire to the crowd. She saw them now only as
black silhouettes, dark frozen shades, so paltry was their life, their light and movement, compared to the
racing dance of fire. At first, they all looked the same, motionless black blobs. But then she noticed it, a fire
beginning to ignite upon their fists. It was beautiful, delineating each finger bone and knuckle hair to a
crimson glow. It was her fire and it called to her, as it spread up their arms, over their shoulders, and toward
their throats, to light their faces. It was the men who had beaten her, all of them, beginning to burn from the
inside out, each one on his way to an agonizing, poison death.
"Live by the fire, or die by the fire," the salamander said, swimming right up to her face, his black eyes wet
with paradox. And finally she understood him, this creature of water and fire, a being who could both burn
and was proof against the flame. One could burn, or be burned, each with its own cost. She could choose to
die, let the fire take her as Rhianna had planned, for the sake of the rest. Or she could take up fire, and live.
That was her choice.
Maddy reached out and grasped the salamander. She pulled it, flaming, between her breasts where once it
had lain in stone against her will.
Fire exploded outward, burning everything in its path.
* * *
She woke in the morning, in a pile of ash, in a circle of ash, in a field of ash, surrounded by a scorched forest.
She was naked but her body was no longer bruised or bloody, and when she touched the back of her neck,
there were no scars.
She got up, ash puffing in little eddies around her feet as she walked. She came to a circle of bones,
skeletons lying under a blanket of ash, their outlines still clear. They were all dead, Rhianna, Seelie, Bless and
the Captain's men. Should she feel grief?
"No," the salamander heart in her whispered. "Fire burns. That is what it does, but it does not grieve."
Maddy turned away from the dead and walked toward the huge rock rising out of the ground. The grove of
trees where the horses had been tethered was gone, burned to stumps. There were piles of bones there as
well. She rounded a singed corner of rock and came to the cave entrance. She walked in and found the
bedrolls still lain out, men's packs and empty bottles of ale strewn everywhere, the wagon's supplies stacked
neatly, and the Captain unconscious beside a dead fire. She touched his swollen hand, drawing the
salamander's fire into herself where it belonged, controlling its flow easily now.
She would find some clothes. When the Captain woke, she would tell him what had happened, of the choice
she'd made to live, and kill. He would not be happy to have lost the men. And he wouldn't wholly believe her
power, until she showed him. After that, he would want even more to take her to his King. But that was
another choice, her choice. A choice in a long line of choices, burning their way into the future.
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Ripley Patton is an American fiction writer happily living on the South Island
of New Zealand. She currently has one novelette, two short stories, and two
pieces of flash fiction, all in the running for a Sir Julius Vogel Award 2010,
and her novelette, Over the Rim, was recently mentioned in the same
sentence with the Hugo.
Ripley has a passion to see women and women's issues made manifest in the
speculative fiction genre.
For links to more of her work you can visit her website at
http://www.ripleypatton.com/ or her blog at http://rippatton.livejournal.com
of New Zealand. She currently has one novelette, two short stories, and two
pieces of flash fiction, all in the running for a Sir Julius Vogel Award 2010,
and her novelette, Over the Rim, was recently mentioned in the same
sentence with the Hugo.
Ripley has a passion to see women and women's issues made manifest in the
speculative fiction genre.
For links to more of her work you can visit her website at
http://www.ripleypatton.com/ or her blog at http://rippatton.livejournal.com