Dream of a Vast Blue Cavern

Chapter 12: A Dangerous Decision: Stasia

 Stasia did not have to wait long for the Fire King's return. She was trying to stretch her toes out to ease a cramp in her calf when the door scraped open again. The King strode through, followed by Medoc. Stasia's blood curdled when she saw him. Had he told the Fire King of her limited ability to Flame? She was tempted to link with the General immediately, but her instincts cautioned her. If the King was still unaware of her ability and the fact that she had entered Medoc’s mind, doing so now might give her away. The Fire King might be able to read the cues that showed their minds were linked.

 “Get rid of her cage,” he ordered Medoc. “You, get out. We are not to be disturbed under any circumstances.” He waved away the guards who had followed them into the throne room and flung down the heavy portcullis behind them.

 The General concentrated, and the bars surrounding Stasia receded back into the floor and ceiling, ordinary stalas once more. Stasia scrambled to her feet at once. Or at least, she tried to. She could not be certain how much time had passed since she'd last stood, but it was long enough for her leg muscles to forget how to work. While she was trying a second time, the Fire King lost patience.

 “Bring her,” he said, and strode past the throne toward the back of the room. Stasia felt queasy. She was sweating with terror. Why had he brought Medoc here? The General must have betrayed her. Which meant that she would very likely die now.

 Medoc approached her and wove a rope of fire from the heat in the air. His expression was unreadable, but his hands were gentle as he bound her wrists with the painful blaze and pulled her to her feet. Her muscles cramped as blood reached tired tissue, and her soles burned as if she walked on coals.

 “Drag her if you must,” the Fire King’s voice came over the roar of lava, from the back of the cavern. Medoc put a hand on either of her shoulders.

 “March, prisoner.” There was no anger or hate in his voice, and he met her eyes with a stern look. Stasia remembered where she had heard that tone before—it was listening to Glace train recruits. It was not sympathetic, but it was encouraging. She placed one foot before the other, and found she could do that again, and again, and she could even move faster when the King shouted for them to hurry. They passed into a wave of heat, and Stasia realized where they were headed.

 From her cage, even facing the back of the throne chamber, she'd never seen the lava river, only its telltale glow. Now it spread out before her, deep in a gorge that separated the back wall of the cavern from the floor on which they stood. She wasn't sure if it was the heat or the sheer height that made her dizzy. The Fire King stood staring at its depths as if mesmerized by the glowing heat, but he turned to face her as they approached.

 “Chosen of the Fire Spirit,” he spat at her, bringing his face close to hers. “Protected! We shall see. Medoc, hold her by the edge. Be ready to throw her in on my command.”

 Stasia decided it was time to enter Medoc's mind, in spite of the risk. Last chance, Medoc. I can distract him while you strike. Or you can wait for his insanity to destroy us all.

 Medoc held her arms. She could feel his hesitation and uncertainty as if they were her own. She saw a plan in his mind disrupted by Dynat's command. He had planned to use her, to put her in a position to defeat Dynat and escape, then take control of the throne himself. He was wavering now, uncertain if his plan could be salvaged, or if he should bide his time and find another pawn.

 “You are linked,” Dynat said. “Why would you enter her mind, Medoc?”

 Desperate, Stasia pushed her tortured body into action. She kicked backward, connecting with Medoc’s shin and distracting him long enough to pull her arms free. She dove forward and threw her arms, still bound with fire at the wrists, over Dynat's head, pulling him close.