A Memory of Fire: SoulNecklace Stories

By R. L. Stedman

About my wrist is a tattoo of roses, strung like beads on a bracelet of thorns. I have a past, if only I could remember — but I cannot remember.

Held captive in a strange city, Dana dreams of fire and flight. There is something she must find, but she does not know what it is, or why it is important. If only her dreams would let her rest.

Half a world away, Will studies a new, exciting discipline. But while enchantress N'tombe is impressed by his newfound skills, inside he feels only desperation. A terrible moment is approaching. Soon, Dana must face her final ordeal. 

Is his new power enough to save her? And is he prepared for what might happen next?

In this thrilling conclusion to the award-winning SoulNecklace Stories, Will and Dana must make a heart-breaking choice. A choice that will change their world forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Waverley Productions
• Release date: Oct 1, 2017
• ISBN: 9780473399580

Book preview

A Memory of Fire

A Memory of Fire

R. L. Stedman

Waverley Productions

Contents

I. Dreaming

1. A Dream Within A Dream

2. Learning To See

3. The Silver Fountain

4. The Glass Globe

5. Calm Before The Storm

6. Seeing Blind

7. After The Earthquake

8. Truly A Captive

9. A Dragon In The Dark

10. Types of Bravery

11. A Wound In The Earth

12. The City On The Plain

13. Girls Do Not Fight

14. Inside The City

15. A Fountain Of Silver

16. The Cave

17. A Wooden Scaffold

18. Waking

19. A Place Of Sacrifice

20. The Scaffold And The Knife

21. Blood On The Grass

Interlude

22. Lessons

II. Return

23. Sal

24. The Return

25. Taking Tea

26. What Lies Beneath

III. The Beginning

27. Thoughts And Actions

28. Dreams And Visions

29. Homeward

30. A Shining Light

31. A Choice

32. The Story

33. Ever After

A White Bird Flies

About the Author

Also by R. L. Stedman

Welcome to Faery

A Long, Long Life

1. Orphaned

Acknowledgments

Part One

Dreaming

Flying Bird

Chapter One

A Dream Within A Dream

About my wrist is a tattoo of flowers; six roses, strung like beads on a bracelet of thorns. I have a past, if only I could remember. But I cannot remember.

Twice a day a serving girl delivers food and water. Her dark hair swings across her face like a curtain. She reminds me of a shadow.

Who am I? Why am I here?

I open the door to my chamber. Two guards in chain mail stand on either side of the entranceway. For a moment they look surprised, then their spears bar my way. Behind the soldiers I see wide wooden stairs, leading down into darkness. From the shadows comes a dry rustling, like leaves scudding in the wind. In the shade of the stairwell something moves. There are more guards than just these men.

Thoughts fragment. The world turns. The serving girl appears and departs again. Days become nights and nights become days. I lie staring at a white ceiling from which hangs a red lamp. I have no name, no voice.

Below lies a city and a courtyard with a silver fountain. Far in the distance are snow-capped peaks, with names I do not know. In dreams I feel the tug and pull of planets, the cold dust between the stars. There is music here; I sing fragments of song to tie the memory to my heart. If I can capture the truth of my dreams, I might remember who I am. And then I will be whole.

Time continues onwards until, without any warning, I have another dream. And it changes everything. This was my dream.

And then I woke. I was a dream within a dream.

Chapter Two

Learning To See

Will never enjoyed sea travel. At best it was boring; at worst it was downright dangerous. He preferred solid ground. Traveling on foot might be tiring and hard on the shoes, but it carried one advantage: you couldn’t be drowned.

Ready? TeSin asked.

Will settled the blindfold across his eyes. Not really.

The strangest part of this journey was that TeSin, a warrior Will had left for dead, was teaching him a new fighting technique! Who would have thought an enemy might become a teacher?

TeSin laughed. I will be kind.

Will doubted this, but he raised his staff anyway. Clack! TeSin knocked it aside. Hey! Will rubbed his stinging palms.

You must try, TeSin said.

I am trying.

"You think you try."

Lifting his blindfold, Will peered in irritation at the older man. What more can I do?

TeSin raised his staff. Try again.

Will huffed out, replaced his blindfold and raised his staff. TeSin swiped at it, but Will heard the movement, and ducked. TeSin circled around him, feet moving softly on the deck. Will raised his staff and tried to follow the sound.

You listen hard, TeSin observed.

Will said nothing.

Some enemy, they make no noise. TeSin stepped closer. Will felt his presence: his heat, his breath. What then you do?

Will swung his staff toward the man’s voice, but hit only empty air.

Ha! TeSin said, and the sailors in the rigging laughed too.

Calm, Will whispered to himself. You can do this. Jed would have laughed at him. "You! Fight a Noyan blindfolded? Not a chance."

Jed was right. TeSin, being a Noyan, was a battle-hardened general, skilled in ruthless combat. But Will had once been an elite warrior of the same army so really, he shouldn’t listen to an imaginary Jed. Besides, the man was thousands of miles away, with his arm around some pirate-woman. What gave him the right to mock Will?

TeSin stalked along the deck. Above in the rigging sailors made bets with each other: which fighter would take the first hit, when would Will be knocked out, how long each bout would last. None of the bets favored Will.

Focus.

The sailors fell silent. TeSin’s feet moved just as the ship lifted on the swell, and for a moment Will knew exactly what TeSin would do; he would lift his sword arm, raise the other as a guard, then lunge forward, drive the point home. Will swung his staff down, blocking the lunge, and twisted. A sailor howled in annoyance (ha! Someone lost their bet), and the Noyan’s warm breath touched Will’s face. Will swept his left leg forward and bashed his head toward TeSin. Their foreheads connected, hard.

Ugh! TeSin grunted.

Will heard the man stagger sideways. The Noyan was a bad sailor. Perhaps he had a chance after– Uh! he grunted, as TeSin’s staff caught him in the belly. Will staggered backwards and fell hard on the wooden deck.

From above, the sailors cheered. Come on, lad! My money’s on the foreign one! Get up, boy!

Awkwardly, Will got to his feet and, catching his breath, stood listening. The soft plut-plut of the waves; the snap of the wind in the canvas above; the shouting of the sailors; the soft glide of the Noyan’s bare feet on the deck.

And here comes the lunge. Will ducked, felt the sideswipe skim across his back and his kick. He jumped backwards and felt the Noyan’s foot just miss his face. Quite suddenly, the dance of the fight caught him. Oh, he loved those moments; when everything focused on the now. Will didn’t need to see. In the very centre of his being, Will knew TeSin’s next move. He feinted; left, right, and barreled forward. His shoulder caught the Noyan hard in the belly (fighting like children!) and the man toppled backwards.

Go lad! shouted one sailor, but the rest booed. Doubtless they had lost money.

Will grinned and tore off the blindfold. TeSin lay on the deck coughing, but he smiled, and lifted an arm to Will. You do well.

Will took the offered hand and pulled the Noyan onto his feet. Thank you. He waved the blindfold at the sailors. So. Who bet on me? Two swarthy men raised their hands, grinning. Thank you, boys. When we’re next in port, I’ll be buying you drinks.

Good move, whispered Jed, from the back of Will’s mind, where he seemed set to stay. Ain’t nothing like drink to keep a sailor’s favor.

The sailors cheered. Will grinned at them, and at the blue sky beyond and the white clouds and the limitless horizon. For a moment he felt truly happy.

You saw me, TeSin said, but you not use your eyes.

Will nodded.

Good. Good. Is start.

Will wiped sweat from his eyes, then he and TeSin settled in the shade and shared a draft from the water barrel. For a time they said nothing, each catching his breath. Will sipped the brackish water and tried to work out what had happened. Fighting without vision was twice as exhausting, because of the effort of concentration.

It was strange, Will said finally. I knew what you were going to do.

TeSin wiped his mustache and set the mug on the deck. How?

Will shifted uncomfortably. How to describe the moment? I don’t really know. At first I heard you. I knew you would lunge, because that’s what you do.

TeSin looked startled. You know how I fight?

Of course. Will could tell from the set of his shoulders that the man was troubled. It’s not a bad thing.

TeSin looked unsure.

Anyway, then things just … fell into place. That’s what it’s like for me, when I fight.

You feel world.

I what?

World. You feel … TeSin waved a hand in a sweeping gesture. Hard to find right word. I sorry.

Will struggled for the sense of what TeSin was saying. You mean, I can see without eyes?

Yes. No. TeSin squinted upwards at N’tombe, who stood regarding them. Wise one. You explain?

Will shuffled over to give the enchantress room to sit beside him. I thought you were asleep.

She took the cup from his hand, drank the water and made a face at the taste. I was. She nodded at the sailors. They woke me.

Sorry. Will grinned.

I gather it went well?

TeSin nodded. He feel world.

Really?

Will shrugged, uncomfortable with her dark-eyed stare. He knew the Enchantress probably wouldn’t turn him into a frog. She might, however, make him think he was a frog, which could be even more embarrassing.

Will? What happened?

Looking at his feet, Will explained their bout; how at first he’d concentrated on sound, but how, after a time, all the sound had seemed to fall away, leaving only the dance. That’s what he meant to say, but what came out was a less eloquent. Um, I listened a lot. You know. But then, I kind of forgot to listen.

And TeSin struck you?

Will shook his head. He struck me when I was trying to hear him. But after that, no. I hit him.

N’tombe rested her back against the seat, and looked out at the horizon. You hit him while you were blindfolded?

Will and TeSin both nodded.

She pursued her lips, blew out. Well. Good. She waved a hand impatiently at them both. What are you doing here, then?

Will and TeSin exchanged glances.

Um, resting? Will said.

Why? It was one exchange, hardly a battle. Get up Will. And you, Noyan.

Will sighed, got to his feet, and lifted the blindfold over his eyes. He heard N’tombe sip the water. I will watch, she said.

Encouraged by his small win, Will aimed a blow at TeSin’s head. The man sidestepped, put out a foot and tripped Will neatly. Will fell hard onto his side.

The sailors roared.

Groggily, Will got to his feet. He wiped blood from his lips. For a moment he felt disorientated. The sounds were too loud. With the constant heaving of the ship and the wind cracking the sails he had no idea where TeSin might be. He had no idea where the deck rail was, either.

Hand outstretched, he felt his way forward. TeSin seized his wrist, rotated it, twisting his arm, his shoulder — AARGH! Will fell onto his jaw.

TeSin pushed his arm up harder. Give up? Yes?

Will wanted to shake his head and refuse, but his shoulder felt like it was about to break.

Enough! said N’tombe crisply.

Loosening the blindfold, Will saw she was smiling. More practice is needed, I think.

He groaned.

---

The next day Will was covered in bruises and moving as stiffly as an old man.

Fight today? TeSin asked at breakfast. His tone was mock-serious. Will groaned.

N’tombe looked up from her porridge bowl. Her dark eyes gleamed as if laughing, but her expression was serious. Giving up, Will?

Will grabbed a bowl. The cook slopped porridge into it and winked. Good entertainment for the lads, Maister. We be all enjoying it.

Will groaned again.

---

The day was overcast and a cold wind had whipped the swell into whitecaps. Perhaps that worked in Will’s favor for, despite his bruises, the sparring seemed easier than yesterday. He circled TeSin warily, listening for the pant of breath and the faint slide of feet on decking. After taking a few blows he settled into a rhythm: listen, move, strike. He felt more relaxed now, and the sprinkling of sea spray was refreshing.

His focus narrowed, until all his world was here, on this deck, in this moment. The heave of the deck, the splashing waves were background distractions. The soft scuff of the man’s feet, the slope of the deck, TeSin’s grunt of exertion all blurred together, confirming a sense stronger than sight. He didn’t have to hear the Noyan move; he knew it. Without thinking, Will reached forward and struck.

Owff! TeSin groaned.

Well done! the sailors cheered.

Don’t you ever do any work? Will shouted blindly.

Not when there’s entertainment to be had, one of them yelled.

Not betting against you today, boy.

Nay, rumbled other coarse voices. Tis too equal a match.

Will whipped the blindfold off, stared at the sailors. They stood in a group, bare arms folded across thick chests. They didn’t look to be mocking him. Meanwhile, TeSin crouched in an empty corner of the deck, a hand to his face and blood seeping through his fingers.

Did I do that? Will felt amazed.

Nay, called a sailor, ’twas a mermaid.

The others laughed.

Will handed TeSin a rag and the Noyan wiped the blood from his face. You improve.

I could have killed you.

TeSin’s lips quirked. You try.

Will felt a sudden urgency. He needed to understand this strange mastery he’d felt. Can we fight again? He would need every weapon to survive the Kamaye. When last they’d encountered the evil creatures, N’tombe had near to entombed Will in a cave to keep him from harm’s way. He shuddered at the memory. Never again. He had almost broken his fingers trying to scratch himself free. To be alone and helpless in the dark, all the time knowing the one you love is fighting for her life – Come on, TeSin.

With a sigh, TeSin got to his feet.

Don’t look at me like that, Will said. You’ve been in worse battles.

TeSin gazed out at the ever-moving sea and swallowed. This is different.

Chapter Three

The Silver Fountain

In dreams, I replayed my triumph and my final, bitter defeat. I will go with you, I said again and again to the darkness, and again and again the darkness gathered me into its foul embrace.

The dream memory was set always in the red-walled cave. A fire glimmered in a sand-hollow and TeSin, the Noyan, lay wounded. In the firelight N’tombe looked exhausted and Will was sullen. I won’t be set aside, he said angrily.

And then the Kamaye came; a creeping black tide that threatened to smother all I loved if I did not obey. So I did what Will had begged me not to do; I set him aside. Scant comfort that I had been governed by necessity; that if I’d stayed the darkness would have killed him. But I had taken Will’s choice away. I should not have done that. I had been born without options; sentenced since birth to eventual imprisonment in the Guardian’s tower. I should have understood how important choice is. But in a moment of pride I took away all of Will’s alternatives and left him. And for what? Now I was imprisoned in a different tower.

The roses about my wrist worried me. A tattoo shouldn’t turn about my wrist like a bracelet, but this one seemed to be doing exactly that. And some days the flowers seemed to grow, while at other times they changed color. I spent hours staring at them, daring them to change. But of course they never did it when I was actually watching; they were sneaky. They waited for me to remove my gaze, and then the changes happened.

My silent servant slid the door open. As always, she carried a plate of food.

I’m sorry if I’m being rude, I announced. It’s not personal, really. It’s just, and I frowned, "they are annoying me. My voice sounded overloud in the face of her silence. What was with this girl? It was like I was speaking to a simpleton, or someone hard of hearing. I waved my hand under her nose and she recoiled as though I’d shown her a snake. See? Do they look any different to you?"

She looked at me, at my wrist, at me again. I pointed to the tattooed roses around my right wrist, and flapped my fingers under her face so she had to look. See? Them.

Tentatively, the girl touched the circlet of roses. Her fingers felt warm and she had bitten her nails. In that respect, at least, I was better than her. I had long ceased nail-biting. I frowned. When was it that I had last bitten my nails? She frowned too, like a reflection in the mirror, which was annoying.

Go away, I said to her. You’re bothering me.

She dropped her gaze again.

Oh no! I wailed. The rose under the base of my thumb seemed to have turned pink. Look! They’ve changed. It’s your fault! You distracted me.

She stepped back, wide-eyed. Clearly, she had no idea what I was talking about.

Go away! I yelled, and picked up the plate, full of food, and threw it at her. And take your horrible food with you!

She ducked neatly. Evidently, she’d had things thrown at her before. The food – a stew, smelling of lamb and garlic and cinnamon – splattered in an ugly mess on the floor. The girl slid back the door and ran from the room. I heard her feet trip-trapping down the stairs.

You forgot your plate, I shouted.

Ah, it was good to shout again. Another rose about my wrist was colored now. Surely, it hadn’t been yellow before? Strangely, it reminded me of someone smiling. And you can stop that, I said savagely.

I cleaned up the spilt food as best I could, disposing of it in the waste bucket and sluicing down the floor with the water the girl had left me. I would have to go hungry tonight. Doubtless I’d been hungry before; I would survive.

I spent the rest of the evening pacing about my room, stopping before the window to stare out at the night. Winter’s grip was loosening, although the mountains about the citadel were still snow covered. In the silver-gray moonlight, I couldn’t see the colors of the roses about my wrist, which suited me, because I absolutely did not want to see them changing color. Tricky things! Why couldn’t they just behave themselves? Huff-huff went the vapor from my breath and I watched it slide into the sky, speed away. I wished I could follow it.

I didn’t really know where the citadel was – no one had taken the time to show me a map – but I was sure I was a long way north. For one, the days were short, and for another, it was intensely cold.

From my window I could see avalanches form and fall on the distant mountain slopes. Some days the dry air was so cold that it took my breath away. At night the streets emptied quickly, and during the short daylight hours folk moved quickly, huddled into furs. Snow rarely settled, because the wind was so strong that flakes blew away, swirling into white, but on the edge of the fountain and the eaves of the buildings icicles formed. The fountain! It was important, but why? But my thoughts were cloudy and unfocused; the memory slid away. My stomach rumbled. I was hungry, that was the problem.

I need to sleep, I said aloud, and turning from the mountains, lay down on the hard pallet. The air smelt of wood smoke and spoiled food. Hanging from the ceiling above was a red lamp with black tassels.