Maker of Fire

Aylem, in the Valley of the Vanishing River

I finished incinerating the remains of Ledjetl, my daughter's dead mount, when Asgotl said, "I smell a wood fire."

"That's a good sign," I jumped into the saddle.

"Yes, given that the sun is already down behind the mountains. Let's find that fire."

"Walk, don't fly, Asgotl. They can't have gone far. Can you see any tracks?"

"Maybe," the griffin squinted at depressions filling in with blowing snow and followed them.

"I can feel them nearby," I peered around at the darkening forest, trying to see where the smoke was coming from.

"I can see smoke from that clearing," Asgotl sped up, only to get whacked across the eyes with a branch. I had to work hard not to laugh.

"Shh," I urged quiet so I could listen. Dismounting, I quietly crossed churned-up snow full of tracks toward a huge fir tree. Smoke wafted out from a narrow notch in the snow at the base of the tree before streaming away in the breeze. Looking between the branches with Asgotl peering over my shoulder, I saw my children and one of the smallest Coyn I had ever laid eyes on. The Coyn girl and my son were on their knees, applying pressure to the bandages on my daughter's back, which were red with seeping blood.

I knew from my previous life that this is one of the ways to stop bleeding on my former world, which had very little real magic. This Coyn knew what she was doing; however, her efforts were unnecessary now that I was here. I would heal my own daughter; but if we had not been able to get across the plain, this girl would have been my daughter's only help until morning. Without her aid, my daughter, lost for two days and injured by a wild beast, could have died from blood loss.

The Coyn girl was tiny, really: no bigger than a small Cosm child. There was enough girlish immaturity to her face that she looked to be maybe 14 or 15. Her mousy-brown hair was only down to her neck and the ends were jagged from being cut badly; however, it was clean, which I had not expected.

I did not miss the ragged scarring on the back of her left hand. Removal of the embedded control charm gem was something known only in legends. No Coyn had succeeded in removing one in recorded history. The pain was supposed to be intolerable and only the strongest will could overcome the enchantment of inhibition. It was the inhibition magic of the control gem that prevented most Coyn from even contemplating the act.

I wanted to meet her. She must be quite unusual. I moved into the shelter she had created under the fir tree as quietly and as calmly as I could. It was small enough that I couldn't stand up in it. Kneeling next to the Coyn, I touched her gently on the shoulder, radiating the charm of peace from my crystal through my fingers. "If you two can move your hands, I can see how bad it is."

Adjusting my eyes to body clairvoyance, I could see a bright red unhappy wound trace through the bandages from three lacerations down Opo'aba's back. I could also see the red of my son's poorly-healed wound on his palm and the dull blue of his fatigue. I could also see fatigue, a constant knot of pain in the left hand, and a hard knot of fear on the Coyn. There were several other small pains she carried but I had to ignore her for now and concentrate on my daughter, who took me a few moments to heal.

I put my coat on Opo'aba, turned her face up, and left her to sleep since she had lost a lot of blood. Magic wasn't able to replace blood so it would take her several days to recover. Knowing my daughter, she would complain about it once she woke up, just for the love of complaining. She had recently elevated complaints to an art form. I looked forward to when she grew out of this phase of growing up.

"Let's let her sleep for now," I smiled at my son. "Let me see that half-healed wound on your hand? Was that from the bear?"

"No," his eyes flashed. "It was from her," he pointed an accusing finger at the Coyn. I felt her stiffen next to me and regretted my son's ill-timed words. Didn't he see she was like a squirrel frozen in fear, likely to either bite in defense or flee? I wanted to keep her around long enough to look at her left hand. Did she really remove an embedded control charm? What kind of inner strength did she possess to achieve that feat?

"Explain this to me," I told my son. I looked at the Coyn and said in a gentler tone of voice, "please speak up if he needs correction. Heldfirk is only ten and still has many rough edges that need smoothing."

"She can't, mother. She can't talk. She's mute."

"Seriously?" I felt my own eyes pop open. I also felt the Coyn tremble slightly. She was terrified. It was apparent that the charm of peace didn't work on her, which was rare but not unheard of. I was thinking fast to find a way to calm her fears.

"Explain yourself, Heldfirk." I sat back and changed my stance from kneeling to sitting crosslegged. I was trying to look relaxed and unthreatening, keeping my motions restrained and slow. At the same time, I cast a charm of warmth under the tree and also in the clearing for Asgotl. He would complain to me if I made him sleep in the snow. I also cast a barrier dome big enough to cover all of us. The dome would also keep my little Coyn confined inside until I removed it in the morning. It was to keep night predators out and the little Coyn in. I was sure she would try to flee at some point this evening.

My son began his excuses though I could guess the general shape of what happened. "She would not do as she was told so I took my crystal to discipline her and she knocked it out of my hand with her knife," Heldfirk told me in an uncertain voice, rightly guessing that I didn't approve. "She ought to have obeyed me even if her own master wasn't around. No one out here could possibly outrank me." I felt the Coyn tense and go completely still at what my son said.

"And just what was it that you wanted her to do?" I crossed my arms and nailed him with my eyes.

"She wanted me to remove the branches she cut to clear the space we're in right now and I told her I wouldn't since she was the Coyn. She should have done it all." He looked down at his hands, "I still think she should have. Coyn work and we protect them, right? That's how it's supposed to work."

"Oh my darling stupid son," I smiled my saddest, most disappointed smile at him, "just what are those tutors of yours teaching you?"

"What?"

"For those to whom much has been given, much also is expected. You have rank and power and magic. You are also taller, bigger, and stronger than this stranger who found you by accident. You only had a short time until sundown, and you wanted this small and weaker stranger to do all the work to help you?"

"How did you know that?" Heldfirk was too young and too guileless to try to deceive me.

"You don't even know if she's a subject of our kingdom." I could see the Coyn looking up at me with creased eyebrows out of the corner of my eye.

"This is the wilderness, Heldfirk," I explained. "This is not our kingdom. There are very few people who live out here and they do not owe us allegiance or obeisance. Did it never occur to you that this woman here may not have a master? I do not see the charm on her hand that Coyn wear in our kingdom so she is likely her own master. No one owns her. She was helping you out of simple compassion and you abused her gesture."

"But she's a Coyn!"

"So what? She is a free, thinking, and feeling being who owes you nothing, even if she has no magic. You owe her, not the other way around. You owe her both your gratitude for helping you when she didn't need to and your apology for abusing her goodwill when you threatened her."

"She threatened me back, and she hurt me, and she tried to leave! And Opo'aba wasn't moving and I couldn't wake her up!" Heldfirk was on the edge of tears.

"Why did she try to leave?"

"Because I wouldn't help move the branches," he muttered.

"She tried to leave? Why didn't she?"

"Because I wouldn't let her."

"How?"

"I grabbed her," he said softly, staring at his feet.

"I can't hear you."

"I grabbed her," he said a little louder. "I ran after her and stopped her."

"What happened next?'

"She shoved my arm with her knife and then pointed it at me when I let go. So I took my crystal out and..."

"And she defended herself the only way she had to stop a charm of discipline she didn't deserve," I said for him. "How very noble of you, Heldfirk. What a paragon of chivalry, to attack a smaller person with no magic who was guilty of only defending herself."

"She's got magic," he pointed at the Coyn accusingly. "She made fire without a crystal, with just a piece of wood."

"Oh?" I turned and looked down at the Coyn sitting next to me. She shrank into herself at my inquiring look. "I do not sense a speck of magic in this person so I would like to see what this is that you think is fire magic, Heldfirk." I crouched over, putting my elbows on my knees, and tried to make myself as small as possible. With my eyes at her level, I asked: "Could you please show me this fire-making my son saw?"

---

Emily, under the fir tree

The magic monster woman asked me to make fire. What I really wanted to do was escape as soon as possible. She and her sleeping daughter were between me and the exit path out from under the fir tree. I thought that I could maybe crawl out through the uncut branches on the opposite side of the tree trunk but my possessions were scattered about. I might have to leave some things behind and hope they were here when I returned to collect them.

The deep purple eyes of the monster lady didn't let up looking at me as she quietly waited for my response. I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding and relaxed my shoulders. There was no getting around it without destroying the unspoken truce within the fir tree shelter. Short of trying to run away before those long arms or her magic could stop me, I realized I had no option to refuse. It was a painful decision since hundreds of hours had gone into creating my handful of homemade matches. It took two years just to make the phosphorus and it was a very smelly, disagreeable process.

I opened my pouch back up and pulled out the pebble in its waxed leather wrapping and the waxed waterproof box with the remaining three matches. I carried some with me when I left my home, part of my standard emergency supplies since the wilderness is not kind to the unprepared.

I took out a match and made sure the monster lady was indeed watching and not distracted by her children. I struck it on the pebble and waited for her surprise; however, the surprise was all mine.

"That's a real match," she remarked thoughtfully. "I never would have thought to see a real match here." She lowered her voice so her son could not make out what she said next: "I remember Coventry in Warwickshire. I wish you could speak so you could tell me where you were from."

Just then, a giant bird head with weird tufted ears pushed through the branches of the entry path. "I'm afraid I have made a terrible mistake," the monster bird head apologized. "I thought this bag of meat out here was something that my mistress brought for my dinner. I thought it was one of her bags in the dark. I realize now it's bear meat so it's not one of ours. How can we make this up to you?" The monster looked right at me.

The hours of stress, the cognitive dissonance, and the sudden flood of fear-driven adrenalin were too much for me and I fainted.

"Oh dear," Asgotl tilted his head in consternation. "Did I say something wrong?"

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