Lesson of the Fire Read Online Free PDF Page B

vict’ry over Dinah an’ Domin.”
    Sven started at the
line. Can he know that I believe this too?
The storyteller paints myth as truth, and truth as myth. What does
he really know?
    “Marrish objected. This wasn’t how wizards
chose their students. Fraemauna’s son would have to prove himself
worthy of his father’s gifts, first. The goddess saw the wisdom
i’this, but she didn’t wish to leave Sven an’ th’other towns to
Dinah’s damnens. Actin’ as her han’s, Nightfire led Pitt Gematsud
an’ all the other Mar through the Dead Swamps an’ to a new place
near his Academy. Many didn’t survive the journey, but those who
did foun’ed a town at the edge of ravit territory, which they
called Rustiford.
    “Grateful to Nightfire for deliverin’ them
from the damnens, the villagers asked how they could repay him.
‘Every year on Weardfest, you must give me a slave,’ he told them.
‘The slave must be eighteen years old an’ must volunteer to serve
me for eight years.’”
    Sven’s hands gripped the stone in front of
him, his knuckles shading to white. His chest rose as he took a
deep, calming breath, and when he exhaled slowly, he thought his
breath moved the storyteller’s cloak, so far away. The memory rose
in his mind like a bubble of marsh gas.
    The green of Rustiford had seemed so large to
Sven when he had set himself on the path to Mardux, years ago. The
mood that night was a mix of somberness, relief and fright. The
elder told the story during Weardfest, and this time, it was Finn’s
turn to play the role of Brand. Sven would get his chance,
though.
    I remember ...
     
     
     

Chapter 5
    “ Each color of the cloaks worn by wizards
corresponds with those of the eight kinds of myst, which is the
source of Mar magic. Green is for Energy, which is used to create
or negate heat, light and sound. It can also increase the duration
of other spells. Most Mar find Energy the easiest magic to use, and
producing a tongue of flame at the tip of the finger is almost
always the first application taught to an apprentice.”
    — Nightfire Tradition,
    Nightfire’s Magical Primer
    “The villagers heard Nightfire’s terrifyin’
words an’ flinched,” declaimed the elder on the green of Rustiford.
“The price the wizard asked was too much! Many townsfolk grumbled,
an’ it may’ve come to blood an’ fire, but Bran’ Halfin shouted over
them all.”
    “Hold, neighbors!” Finn Ochregut called
tremulously, walking forward from his seat in the crowd and
reciting his part of the story. “We couldn’t have made it here
without Nightfire, an’ we would’ve died if we’d stayed. We know the
Law an’ what it demands for a life preserved. We must do as he
asks.”
    “But who’ll go with him?” the villagers
demanded as one.
    “I’ll go first,” Finn announced in an
uncertain voice.
    A younger Sven watched Finn from a log near
the fire. Cloaked in black, he sat with three others, all one year
younger than Finn. Across from them, two villagers sat. They were
Finn’s age — safe from slavery to Nightfire and torn by guilt at
Finn going instead of them.
    “Nightfire heard the boy’s words an’ smiled,”
Sveld, the elder, continued. “He allowed Bran’ a few hours to bid
his family an’ frien’s farewell before takin’ him from us.
    “Ev’ry year, Nightfire has come to collect,
and ev’ry year, a brave young man or woman has stepped forward to
pay Rustiford’s debt. Bran’ Halfin was the first. He was my
gran’son, the son of my daughter, Tora Halfin, who fell during the
passage to Rustiford.”
    All the names were repeated, as they were
every year. Rustiford had sacrificed seven young men and women to
Nightfire, and now an eighth would go. None had ever returned.
    The names were branded on Sven’s soul, and
his eyes were rooted to Finn.
    Had I thought, eight years ago, that I could
be the one chosen? Maybe I did know.
    Eda’s eyes were still liquid brown in his
mind, and Katla’s fiery