The walls were shaking. Garon woke with a deafening boom fading in his ears. Even once the boom was gone, his ears still rang like a tuning fork. Outside the window was a light bright as day; it was entirely the wrong color for sunlight, a bright and fiery orange. Garon stumbled from his bed, snagging his trousers that were draped over the footboard as he went. He tugged them on, hopping, as he looked out, squinting at the light.
It took a moment to realize what was on fire; it was so completely blown apart that it was unrecognizable. By its placement he knew it to be the small granary alongside the mill. And a dreadful understanding started to take the place of the confused panic in his chest. The wheat dust must have exploded, a known risk for millers. That’s why his father was very careful not to allow the deadly dust to gather, but apparently he was not careful enough.
His father and mother met him on the way down the stairs. Mala was already outside at the water pump, wetting towels.
“We have to keep the flames from spreading,” she said.
The towel was cold. Woken so suddenly from his warm bed, the chill set Garon’s teeth shivering. But once he approached the flames, he missed the cold. It was like stepping into a foundry. His whole body broke into a sweat at once, his cheeks and back were dripping. He beat his towel again and again against the flames that tried to come towards the house. Mala worked beside him. On the other side of the fire, their parents did the same service for the mill, keeping the fire back.
The heart of the burning granary was far too hot to allow them to come nearer. They had no chance of putting it out. The best they could do was keep it from spreading. Soon they were joined by neighbors, who had heard the explosion and seen the flames. Fire was everyone’s concern. Ignore your neighbor’s fire and it becomes your own. Surrounded on all sides by men and women, the fire had no chance to spread, but it took a long time to die out enough that they could turn their backs on it. By the time the blaze had reduced to smoldering coals the sun was rising over the mountains. Everyone was sooty and tired, but with the exception of a smooth burn on the arm of the butcher’s oldest daughter, no one was hurt. It could have been so much worse, so despite their exhaustion, and the fact that a good portion of the village’s grain had just gone up in smoke, they were laughing and joking as they lined up at the water pump to clean up.
Some of the women had gone inside as the fire had begun to die down, and they came out to greet the men with platters heavy with breakfast. Mala came out last, holding a keg of beer on her shoulder. Garon’s mouth was dry and dusty and he joined the group of men descending on the keg like flies on honey. The line took a while, but eventually he was sitting by the house beside his father, his flagon full of beer and his plate full of salted meats and very heavily buttered bread.
His father was staring at the embers of the granary, slowly shaking his head. “I don’t understand why it went up like that,” he said.
“You’ve always warned me it could happen,” Garon said. He gestured at the glowing embers. “Now, I believe you.”
“It’s dust that does it,” his father said. He turned to Garon, leaning in close. “The mill is more of a risk than the granary. The flour gets kicked up and there is dust everywhere. There shouldn’t be any dust in the granary right now. It hasn’t been disturbed in weeks. And even if there was dust in there, I ask you boy, what set it afire? It wasn’t the gods; there is no lightning tonight.”
Garon looked back at the smoldering wreck of their granary. One of their neighbors, apparently not trusting the fire to stay out, stood nearby, watching the embers.
“I don’t know, Da,” he said. “Maybe the question is who set it on fire?”
His father nodded, looking down at his uneaten food. “Aye, boy,” he said. “That’s what I’m thinking. That’s the question.”
~
The bread slipped from the peel onto the table, almost onto the plate Halden had laid out.
“Well,” Halden said, looking over her shoulder. “You’re getting better.” He raised an eyebrow at Kiri and gestured back to the ovens.
Gingerly, Kiri transferred the oven-hot bread to its plate and went to get the next loaf. She had mastered this part of the job, at least, shoving the peel under the fresh loaf with a quick sure movement, it was just the next bit she was so bad at. She just couldn’t believe she was here working at all, and not outside in the street with everyone else. Well, not everyone else. Halden was making soup and Karey was cooking porridge and bacon. The explosion had awakened them, of course; it woke the whole town. Everyone had poured into the streets to see what was going on. Most of the men ran toward the flames to see if they could help. Halden called Kiri and Karey over after only a few minutes of gawking.
“Fighting fires is hungry work,” he said. “They’ll be coming here. Let’s get ready.”
She slid the loaf onto its plate, doing it right this time, and sighed. Here she was, baking bread instead of standing on the roof watching the blaze. lt wasn’t entertainment, exactly, but whenever there was a fire everyone who wasn’t helping put it out watched it burn. That smoke had looked like it was coming from the direction of Westfall Village, where Kiri knew every person and every house. She wondered what could have caused an explosion like that, and if anyone had been hurt.
“We’ll hear all about it in the common room,” Karey said.
“What?” Kiri asked.
“You look like your mind is outside,” Karey explained, pointing at the peel Kiri was holding hovering in midair. “We’ll hear all about the fire, and every fire this valley has ever had. Now take that bread out of the oven before it burns.”
They worked for a long time. When she’d baked every bit of bread that had been set to rise, Halden had her make quick breads and pies.
“There won’t be enough otherwise,” he said. “All the village will be here, and half the town, too.”
He was right. They started to pour in after sunrise. Many were smudged from fighting the fire, but most were not. The dirtiest men held forth over clusters of the others, relating the details of the fire. When she heard what had burned Kiri set down her tray of rolls and demanded answers.
“The granary!” she said. “Was anyone hurt? Did the fire spread?”
“No, miss Kiri,” the tale-teller was startled at her interruption. “No hurts at all, and the fire behaved well enough with us all there to tame it. Now fetch us some ale, would you?”
Kiri swallowed the rest of her questions and stomped off to the kitchen. For the rest of the morning she tried to eavesdrop on the conversations around the dining room. Karey was right that there were as many tales of old fires as the one today. But she could tell one thing. No one knew how the fire had started. It was attributed to the well known dangers of milling, although the fact that no milling had been actually going on at the time did lend some doubts to that theory.
Kiri was wiping crumbs off the edge of the table, pricking her ears to hear one of the men who had fought the fire describe how big it had been, when a boy at the table pulled on her sleeve. She recognized him as one of the cooper’s apprentices. He had grown so much it took a moment to see the young boy she’d known in this lanky youth.
“Miss Kiri?” he said. “A man gave me a letter for you.” He dug in his pocket and came up with a wrinkled bit of paper.
“Thank you,” Kiri said, wishing she could remember his name to thank him properly. The boy nodded politely and went back to his food.
She was stopped with requests for more food three times on her way back to the kitchen, so it was some time before she found a spare moment to read the letter. The whole time, she felt like it was burning in her pocket. She told herself it probably wasn’t from the one she feared, but at the same time knew it almost certainly was. Who else sent her letters?
She ducked into a corner of the kitchen and unrolled the smudged and wrinkled paper. It was the same handwriting.
I find a warning in advance is the best way to avoid unnecessary delays.
It only took a spark, but you know all about that, don’t you?
The boy is mine. He will tell you when and where to meet me. There will be no more warnings.
Kiri walked straight to the oven and threw the paper in the fire.
“What was that?” Karey asked.
Kiri spoke through gritted teeth. “Another love letter.”
~
The room stank of fish. Not the good kind, the ah that would be lovely for dinner kind, but the rotting, disgusting, stench-of-death kind. Ugly Led was used to it, especially in badly kept-up warehouses like this one. The floor was deep in dirt. The walls were half-rotted wood. It was surprising that the Untouchable had not chosen a classier base of operations in town. Surely the high cost would’ve been worth making a good impression on new business contacts like himself.
The boy, the same one who had given the Untouchable’s man a message at the dock, brought him to Neal, who was sitting on top of a wood crate, eating an apple. He must have been very used to the smell to be eating here; most people would be put off their appetite.
“I noticed you appraising the place,” Neal said. “We’re going for squalid.”
Led, unsure how to react, just nodded and frowned.
Neal laughed and slapped his leg. “The thief lord is looking for us. We have to be careful for now, until we’re ready to defy him.”
Stolen story; please report.
“Up until I now I’ve admired the Untouchable’s boldness,” Ugly Led said.
Neal snapped his fingers and pointed one at Led. “Right!” he said. “Bold, not stupid. So here you are. That means you’ve made the arrangements.”
“Thirty per load,” Led said. “Paid in advance.”
Neal whistled. “That’s mighty steep.”
“If you don’t like the price, you’re welcome to negotiate with Gordon yourself,” Led said. “But I warn you, this is the best you’ll get.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Neal said. “Good man! We’ll be sure to come to you first when we need the docks.” He hopped down off the crate and yelled. “Boy!”
The boy reappeared quickly enough that he must have been eavesdropping. Led wondered if Neal cared. Ugly Led did not care for eavesdroppers himself, which is why he waited until they were well out of Neal’s earshot before asking the boy a few questions he’d had in mind.
“So, boy,” he said. “You’re lucky to get in early with a man like the Untouchable. When other men come to his side he’ll remember you were one of the first to give him their loyalty.”
“I’ve never met him,” the boy said. “But he sounds amazing, doesn’t he?”
Ugly Led was beginning to wonder if there was such a person as the Untouchable. That Neal seemed slippery enough to be playing a game of tall tales. But he had another question. “What of the Firebrand, then?” he said. “She sounds near as amazing as the Untouchable, and likely to be his enemy. Yours, too, if you stand by him.”
“Oh, I stand by him,” the boy said. “But I’m not worried about the Firebrand. The Untouchable figured out who she really is and she’s no one to be scared of. I’ve known her my whole life.”
“Your whole life?” Led asked. “She must be a local girl, then. Who is she?”
The boy looked at him, suspicion at last beginning to creep into his eyes. “I’m not supposed to say,” he answered. “But don’t you worry, mister. The Untouchable knows who she is, and he’s got a plan to take her down.”
“And you know all about this plan?” Led asked. “You must be a very important man.”
“Yeah,” the boy said, the suspicion leaving his eyes as arrogance took its place. “I guess I am.”
~
They were holding hands. When he had come to take his seat beside her, Garon had picked up Kiri’s hand with ease, and that was it. Somehow, without ever meaning to, Kiri had made her decision. Part of her still fretted, but mostly she was glad. Glad and warm and couldn’t stop smiling. Garon, catching her smiling, grinned back. Mala watched both of them...and their hands on top of the table...with a smug look on her face.
Mala stirred her tea and set the spoon down on the table with a clink. “So,” she said. “You never asked me how my dinner with Lord Useph went.”
“Yes, I did...” Kiri said slowly. She had been so distracted after Garon had almost found out her secret that she barely paid attention to Mala on their walk back that evening. But even if she hadn’t asked, surely Mala had talked about it. “You said it was...good.”
“I did say that,” Mala said. “But not because you asked. Oh, I don’t blame you.” She gestured at the two of them. “You’re preoccupied. About time, too.”
Trying not to be sidetracked to that topic, Kiri pulled her eyes away from Garon to regard Mala attentively. “Well, tell me more,” she said. “How was your dinner?”
Mala’s eyes twinkled. “Good.”
Garon nudged Kiri. “Do you want to come see the wreck of the granary? It’s impressive.”
Mala’s eyes narrowed.
“Um,” Kiri said. “I want to hear more about Mala’s dinner.”
Garon rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair, managing to still hang on to Kiri’s hand. Mala ignored him and turned a dazzling smile on Kiri.
“It’s so kind of you to take an interest, Kiri,” she said. “It was more than good. Lord Useph is an impressive man. Much more impressive than a smoldering granary.” She paused to narrow her eyes at Garon, then went on in the bright manner she’d had before. “He was so gentlemanly, of course, and kind to me. Many men have commented on my beauty of course, but none half so well as Lord Useph. Gallant, I would call him. He is like a prince in a story.”
“Or a villain,” Garon muttered.
“The best kind, if that,” Mala said. “The rich, dignified villain. I could take that. He has invited me to go with him to visit the High Falls. Lady Westfall and others from the court will be going as well, so it won’t be scandalous or anything like that.” Her tone turned wistful at the end, as though she would have preferred the scandal.
“That’s very exciting,” Kiri said. “You’ve always wanted to be courted by a lord.”
“Well, most girls of our lowly birth could not hope for such a thing. But with my looks...” Mala shrugged. “It was a near thing, though. I was beginning to think I might have to settle.”
“You aren’t wearing his colors yet,” Garon grumbled. “You’re getting ahead of yourself.”
“It will be a long trip to the High Falls,” Mala said musingly. She stared at the air over Garon’s head, dreamy-eyed. “Beautiful country, too, perfect for romance.”
“Hmph,” Garon said. “Maybe we should go there, Kiri.”
Kiri was embarrassed to find herself blushing hot and red.
Mala’s eyes lost their dreamy look, seeing something in the present right in front of her. They shifted over Kiri’s shoulder. “Hello, then, Feugh. Do you need something?”
That was the name! Kiri’s hand squeezed tightly around Garon’s. That was the name she’d been trying to remember. The cooper’s apprentice turned Untouchable’s boy. Feugh.
“Hello, Feugh,” she twisted to look at him. He was standing a few feet behind her, staring mostly at Mala, his eyes only flicking to Kiri for a moment when she spoke. Kiri was used to such behavior from boys around Mala. He deserved credit for looking away at all. Kiri had seen young men walk right into walls (and on one occasion into a pond) because they were too busy staring at Mala to look where they were going.
“Do you have a message from your master?” Kiri asked.
“He says to go to the place where you met,” Feugh said, his eyes still on Mala. “He-uh-he said you’d know it. At sundown tomorrow.”
Mala smiled at him.
“Thank you, then, Feugh,” Kiri said. “Is there anything else?”
Feugh shook his head, eyes locked on Mala the whole time. He stumbled backward a few steps, then finally managed to tear his gaze away from Mala and hurried away.
Mala laughed. “Good-bye, Feugh,” she called, waving lazily.
Garon was looking at Kiri, brow furrowed. “What are you meeting the cooper for?”
Kiri almost stupidly told him she didn’t know what he was talking about, but of course that wouldn’t work when he’d heard the whole conversation. She groped for the first lie that came to mind. “Oh, uh, just for Halden. He needs a pickle barrel.”
“What was all that about ‘the place where you met’ then?” Garon asked, clearly not buying it.
Why had Feugh been so stupid as to talk in front of her friends? Could it be that he thought they already knew she was the Firebrand? Didn’t he realize her identity was supposed to be secret? Admittedly, her enemies didn’t have the stake in keeping her identity secret that Kiri did. She might as well be grateful the Untouchable hadn’t called her out by name. Kiri realized when Garon let go of her hand and crossed it with his other hand over his chest that she was taking too long to answer.
“He just means where I bought a barrel before,” Kiri said. “His warehouse.”
“Not his shop?” Garon said.
“No, that’s why he needed to tell me,” Kiri said. “I would’ve gone to his shop otherwise.”
“And what about ‘at sundown’,” Garon said. “Why so portentous?”
“Is it?” Kiri said, meeting Garon’s eyes though her guilt made her want to avoid them. “I thought it must be when he’s available.”
He looked away first, glowering at his drink. Clearly, he was unsatisfied, but at least he’d stopped asking questions. Kiri turned back to her own drink with some relief. Mala sipped her tea silently. She didn’t seem to have noticed the tension between her brother and Kiri. Her eyes had gotten that dreamy look again. No doubt she was envisioning all the most romantic overlooks in the valley.
“Gilliam came by to gawk at the granary,” Garon said at length.
“He came to offer his sympathy and his help,” Mala said, coming out of her reverie.
“And gawk,” Kiri added, grinning.
“He was gawking,” Garon said. “But that’s not my point. I told him you saw someone on the manor roof, Kiri, and he said he thought he had seen someone, too. He said several people have complained of noises on the roof at night. The guards haven’t seen anyone so they say it must be noisy cats.”
Mala scoffed. “Whoever heard of a noisy cat? They are just trying to cover up their incompetence. Lord Westfall should get new help to patrol his walls.”
“True enough.” Kiri knew she would be that new help herself.
~
The moon was shining down from the worst possible angle. Kiri had climbed to the high roof beside the kitchen so she could watch for the night prowler’s most likely ascent. The kitchen had been where she had climbed, because its roof was lower than any other in the manor. To get up anywhere else would mean scaling straight, smooth stone walls. He had to be coming up by the kitchen. So she had come as early as she could, right after she finished working at the inn, and scurried up to watch. But the moon was making the job difficult. It was shining behind her, forcing her to lay down so she would not be silhouetted against its light, and its angle was such that nearly all of the kitchen lay in shadow. Kiri gripped the edge of the roof and squinted, shifting her body at the same time to try to get more comfortable. The Firebrand’s tight-fitting clothes offered no cushioning, letting her feel the hard rocky surface all too well.
Slowly the moon made its way across the sky. Kiri’s eyes began to ache from peering into darkness. The movement of the moon brought its light onto the outer corner of the roof, nearest the wall, and there Kiri saw movement.
It was no cat. First one, then another, black-clad figure climbed onto the roof. They didn’t move nearly as smoothly as Kiri, but both seemed sure-footed as they made their way across the roof. They were coming nearer to Kiri, and she stayed still as she could, hoping they would not look up. She had chosen a spot in the middle of the roof, while they stayed near one side, so she did not worry that they would run into her. She needed only to stay still enough to escape notice. When they came to the end of the kitchen roof, Kiri had to scoot forward until her head was over empty space so as not to lose sight of them. One of them stayed, but the other pulled himself up and over onto the wall beside it. It seemed he was a better climber than Kiri had expected.
Kiri chewed her lip, debating. She wanted to see where he was going, but she would never find out if either one of them spotted her. Staying low, she shimmied over to the other side of the roof, where she could look over and watch the man who had gone around the corner.
He was barely in her field of view. She didn’t dare to stick her head out any further. He was hugging the wall and edging slowly along it. She couldn’t see his feet, but by the way he was moving, Kiri guessed he was on a window ledge. She could see each ledge behind him, and counted that he was on the third from the edge of the kitchen roof. It seemed like a risky thing, walking along window ledges. Anyone might look out their window at any moment and spot him.
While she watched he took a tiny leap, leaving the ledge behind him and moving to the next. He stopped moving forward and seemed to be working at the window. There was a faint creaking noise and he disappeared. He was inside the manor.
She had come here only to observe, but she could not help but think that it was possible that someone in that room was in danger from the prowler. It was true no one had been hurt so far, however. It might not be a good idea to go in there after him. Lord Westfall and Useph both seemed to be less than fond of the Firebrand. But she couldn’t just let this burglar go about his business either.
There were loose rocks on the roof surface all around her. Kiri found a good one, heavy, but still light enough for throwing. She flung it hard at the nearest guard, who was patrolling the garden, oblivious to what was going on above him. She could tell when it hit him, because he jumped and spun, waving his sword at the empty air. And then, as his face turned toward the manor, he froze.
“Intruder!” he shouted. “On the roof!”
The guards poured out like ants when their nest has been stirred. Satisfied the other intruder was sure to be caught or run off by the ruckus, the Firebrand slipped easily away, a shadow in the night.