The Flame in the Mist (33 page)

“Blank, then intensify, to get the Mist to suspect me, then counter—think of something I love, to confuse it—and blank again.”

“That’s it. But don’t worry, we’ll start easy, an’ I’ll cue you at first. Right:
Blank!
”

Jemma evoked the whiteness more easily than even moments earlier.

“Good.” Marsh’s voice cut into Jemma’s concentration. “Now, intensify. Think of Feo.”

Jemma chuckled as she remembered Feo as a chubby little boy, breaking the wings off his toy Mordsprite. He’d thought it looked happier without them.

“Jem, I said
intensify
! You got to rile the Mist, or you won’t get any practice. Think of somethin’ that gets your dander up about Feo. Somethin’ small, mind, to start with.”

The spiders, that last Ceremony … Disgust at Feo fired up under Jemma’s skin. How could he have been so cruel? Mist twined around her neck and tightened like fingers.

“Now, counter!”

Jemma tried to fill her mind with whiteness, but she kept seeing Feo chewing the poor creatures, squashing them on the floor. Her thoughts reeled, panic rising—

“Jem, don’t jump ahead!” Marsh yelled. “It’s no use tryin’ to blank when you’re caught up in them feelin’s! You got to counter first—think of somethin’ you love!”

The spiders … The heat …
What had happened next? Noodle and Pie … they’d come to her rescue! Gratitude
flooded her. The Mist inched away. But suddenly other images invaded her mind, far worse than the spiders: skeletons, ghosts, their screams filling her head—

The Mist was upon her again.

“Jem,
counter
! Hold your Stone!”

“I’m
trying
!” The Mist was strangling her, choking her thoughts. Her arms felt limp.

“Surprise it—think of the first time you saw your ma!”

Ma—ma—ma—ma—
The word caught up with the screams in Jemma’s head, becoming harsh and shrill, like a taunt.
Ma—ma—maaaaaAAA!

“Jemma!” Marsh’s voice was barely audible through the screeching, which was like metal on metal, splitting Jemma’s brain in two. She began to shake. Standing still was unbearable—she had to escape the sound ripping through her, or she would shatter.…

She turned and ran. Past gorse, over heather. Tripping on divots, getting up again. As her feet pounded the ground, the shaking stopped. But the screeching went on … and on … and now she became vaguely aware of being chased, a large shape speeding from behind—

Something thumped into her back, crashing her to the ground. Marsh’s pony sped by. Arms were around her, turning her over. Marsh lay beside her, holding her down.

“Focus!”
Marsh mouthed frantically, but Jemma still couldn’t hear her.
“Mother—”

Jemma thought of her mother’s eyes. Blue points of light, reeling her in, anchoring her. Just like they had in the crystal, in the storm, and then, the first time Jemma had seen Sapphire herself, by the inn’s door. Her heart soared. Her
terror eased. The Mist loosened its grip. The shriek in her head faded, Marsh’s voice buffeting through its echoes.

“Now, think of the river, the sun!” Marsh sat her up, still holding her firmly. “Breathe it in, Jem, deep into you! That’s it, that’s it.… Now,
blank!
”

Jemma’s thoughts drained, and whiteness flooded her head. The Mist enveloped her, caressing her in its chill embrace. She gulped down air as the two of them sat holding each other for several minutes more. Then Jemma heaved a huge sigh.

“Ugh!” she said, pulling away. “That was awful!”

“You’re tellin’ me! Oh Jem, I thought I’d lost you for a moment.… I’m so sorry! It was too much, too soon. We’ll ease up a bit, slow down your trainin’—”

Jemma shook her head. “No. I’m all right. We can’t slow down. Not after what Digby and Talon told us about what’s going on. The Agromonds have to be stopped.”

“Jem … you jus’ said their name, here in the Mist, without so much as flinchin’!” Marsh smiled through her tears. “My, you’re a brave one, you are. Teach us all a lesson, I reckon. You’ll be summonin’ Luminals next, just you see. Come on.” She stood, and pulled Jemma to her feet. “Let’s be gettin’ back to Oakstead. I don’t know about you, but I could use a good bowl of soup. Then I think you should take the afternoon off.”

“Maybe,” said Jemma, knowing she wouldn’t.

“I don’t understand, though,” she said, once they were riding back, “why the Mist closes in whether it thinks I’m friend or foe?”

“You feel the difference, though, don’t you? One way it’s
attackin’ you, ’cause it sees you as the enemy; the other, when you blank and see your mind all white, that’s what it sees too. Like you’re part of it.”

A part of it. That was the last thing Jemma wanted to feel, especially after what had just happened. How would she ever master it enough to move against the Agromonds when the time came? Would she ever be ready? Her parents seemed to think so. They were pleased with her progress. Her healings, Light-focusing, and control of the crystals were coming on in leaps and bounds. And she was integrating the Stone’s Power beautifully, her father said; soon, it would be so much a part of her that she would hardly need to think of the Stone at all. She’d also been developing something on her own that had begun with Pepper: communicating with animals other than the rats. Bats, birds, and bees now came to her call. Even larger creatures—dogs, goats, and horses—responded to her intentions. (Noodle and Pie, though, were still the only ones who could communicate with
her
in words.)

But however much she learned, it never felt enough. She still couldn’t read others’ thoughts as her mother could. And her distance viewing was abysmal. Once, when attempting to track Marsh, Jemma had thought she was in the kitchen, whereas in fact she’d been out in the orchard, leaning against a pear tree. As for summoning a Luminal—which nobody, not even her mother, had been able to do for years—there seemed no chance of that. Not the faintest wisp of a Light Being came, no matter how hard she tried. Still, something spurred her on, and wouldn’t let her rest. Some compulsion that argued against her parents’ worries that she was overdoing it and their concern for her safety, and kept reminding
her of her childhood chant:
I am the Fire Warrioress, the fiercest in the land.… Evil, evil, go away, cast out by my hand.…

She gripped the reins and gritted her teeth. Could she really succeed against the Agromonds, when so many had failed? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she would keep training until she felt strong enough to go back to Agromond Castle and do what she must. That day, she liked to think, was far in the future. But something kept telling her that it was blowing toward her more quickly than she was ready for, like a black storm gathering on a not-so-distant horizon.

The wind whisked Jemma over heather, moorland, forest
. Five times twenty-four have passed,
it moaned
. Hasten, or they will not last!
Agromond Castle loomed above pine tops; three small, luminous orbs pulsed from within
. Five times twenty-four … they will not last.…
Three mournful clangs; the three orbs, their light fading … “Help us …” Children’s voices, keening from the dungeons. “Help!” Then one voice rose above the rest: “Jemma, help!”

Three orbs. Three children. The voice, again—“Help us, Jemma, help!”

“Flora!” Jemma woke in a panic, jumped out of bed, pulled on her clothes, and hurtled downstairs. Sapphire and Marsh were standing in the courtyard, drinking tea by the fire pit. They turned as Jemma ran outside.

“Mother, Marsh! I dreamed … the triplets—Digby’s sister and brothers, calling for help … from the castle … taken by the Agromonds!”

“Ah.” Sapphire’s eyes paled. “I see this was no mere dream.”

Marsh turned ashen. “So it’s happened, has it?”

“Mother, Marsh—you both sound like you were
expecting
it!”

Sapphire stood and put her arm around Jemma. “My child,” she said, “we have foreseen this for a while. It is a dreadful blow indeed. But it was always just a matter of time before the Agromonds reverted to their old ways. Of course, we had no way of knowing their next victims would be Digby’s brothers and sister, nor that they would act so soon. The abductions used to be no more than twice yearly, and you’ve been gone barely five weeks.”

“You mean … they’ve done this because they no longer have me?” Jemma pulled away from her mother. “Then it’s my fault! If I hadn’t escaped, they wouldn’t need others!”

“Jemma, that is not what I meant!” Sapphire said. “Stop blaming yourself. Had you stayed—even if you’d gone to their side—do you think they would have given up their quest for more Power? People like them never have enough! They want total dominion, over everything and everyone. So
you
are not to blame, my child. It is they.”

Jemma pulled away from her mother. “But why didn’t you
tell
me? If I’d only known!”

“If you’d known,” Lumo’s voice interrupted from the doorway, “you’d have wanted to go and try to prevent the unpreventable.”

“It wasn’t unpreventable! We could have warned their parents.”

“Jemma,” Lumo said, sitting by the fire pit, “the Agromonds’ force and cunning would have outwitted any amount of vigilance, just as it outwitted ours all those years ago. Nobody has ever been able to predict when they would strike.”

“Flora.” Jemma slumped onto the bench beside him. “I can’t bear it! What can I
do
?”

Her parents and Marsh were motionless, their eyes darting to one another. “You know, don’t you?” Jemma sighed. “I have to go and rescue them. I can’t let them die.”

Sapphire sat beside Lumo. “Yes. You must go. And sooner than I would like, for I cannot help being afraid.” She bit her lips, her hands trembling.

Lumo put his arm around her. “I know. We thought there would be at least several weeks more.” He looked at Jemma. “But you,” he said, “it is as though all your senses were tuned to this event coming to pass now, driving you on. Never wavering. You have a core of fire, my child, that burns strong.”

Jemma thought back over her almost five weeks of training. Her father was right. Some part of her had always known that she would return to Agromond Castle sooner rather than later. That was why she had kept pushing herself, at times even rousing from her dreams to work alone at night, or missing meals in order to squeeze in every moment of practice she could.

“Mother, don’t worry,” she said, her nerves twanging. “I’ll be fine.”

“But … the book …” Sapphire muttered. Every day since Jemma had told them that
The Forgotten Song
really existed, Sapphire had left no stone unturned in her search for it.

“It’ll come to me when I need,” Jemma whispered, “just as Majem said.”
I hope
, she thought. Her mother would be up all night, she was sure, having one last frantic rummage through any obscure corner of Oakstead she could think of. Finding the lost volume would surely give them all some comfort.

“Jemma,” said Lumo, taking her hand, “I am proud of you, and how quickly you’ve learned. We all are. However, you are still impetuous, and tend to jump to conclusions too readily. This concerns us, for the Mist will be fiercer once you’re moving against those it defends. It will take advantage of the slightest flaw, and … well, we hope you are ready.”

Jemma gulped, wishing she’d taken her father’s thought-alignment classes a little more seriously. “I hope so too,” she said. The thought of facing the Agromonds felt like a vise tightening around her. But Flora, Tiny, and Simon didn’t deserve to die, let alone in the way the Agromonds planned. She drew in a deep breath. “I
am
ready. I have to be.”

Lumo nodded, sighing. “We shall accompany you as far as we can, as will Ida.”

Noodle and Pie peeked from Jemma’s pockets and crawled onto her lap.

“And you two, of course.” Lumo ruffled their fur. “Now, according to Majem, the Agromonds always prepared the children for a week. But we don’t know when the triplets were taken. So I think it wise that we leave no later than tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow …” Jemma’s nerves shimmered. “But what do you mean, ‘prepared’?”

“Feedin’ ’em up, an’ givin’ ’em potions an’ the like,” said Marsh. “To prime ’em.”

Jemma felt sick. What must the triplets be going through? And Digby, and his parents?

Lumo turned to Marsh. “Ida, for the rest of the morning, some last lessons, if you will, going over everything you
can think of. And this afternoon, Jemma, we must do more work to lessen your self-deprecation, and perhaps try another Luminal summoning—” He was interrupted by the sound of hooves clattering from the town square, and a familiar voice yelling.

“Jemma! Where’s Jemma? I must find her!”

“Digby!” Jemma sprang to her feet and ran toward the archway as Digby thundered into the courtyard and leapt from his pony.

“Jem! You got to come. The triplets—they—gone, five days ago!”

“Yes, Dig, we know—but five days?” Jemma remembered the words from her dream:
Five times twenty-four have passed.…
“Why didn’t you come sooner?”