Fireblood (Whispers from Mirrowen #1)

It was getting late. Any number of inns or taverns could provide a night’s rest. But for some reason, she had felt particularly safe asleep on a pallet in the temple. It was her uncle’s suggestion.

Her legs began moving again toward the doors, and she exhaled softly, chiding herself. She reached the gate and pulled the taut cord fastened to the bell. It clanged ominously. There were no lights from the temple. The Bhikhu typically did not linger after their meals but retired to their cells to meditate and think righteous thoughts, no doubt. She hugged herself, waiting patiently. The sound of slapping sandals came from the other side of the large door.

The crossbar lifted and the door opened inward, revealing Master Shivu. He saw her standing alone in the doorway and his smile suddenly wavered, replaced by a frown.

“You are alone,” he said softly, barely masking the throb of concern in his voice.

Hettie nodded. “I came to see how Paedrin was doing. If he was healing…?” She let the words die on her tongue. It was obvious by the expression on Master Shivu’s face that Paedrin was not at the temple.

“Come inside,” Master Shivu said, holding the door open. “You must tell me what you know. I have not seen Paedrin since he left with you and your brother.”

A cold lump of fear solidified inside Hettie’s stomach.





“Will we ever comprehend the Plague? I think not. Some things are not meant to be understood. They must only be endured.”


– Possidius Adeodat, Archivist of Kenatos





The tea was uncomfortably hot, making Hettie wince. A single fat candle caused a sparse glow in Master Shivu’s chamber. The temple had the semblance of a crypt. A plate was offered to her with some cold rice, a few dates, and some dried fruit and cheese. She accepted the humble fare and ate it gratefully, though without appetite.

“When I first saw you, I feared he was dead,” Shivu said, his brow furrowing. “You say he was alive?”

Hettie nodded. “We were ambushed by a Kishion several days south of here.”

Master Shivu wrinkled his nose. “What cause would a Kishion have of interfering with your return journey?”

“My uncle found us. I believe it was tracking him some way. Paedrin was already injured from our journey into the mountains, but he tried to defend us and was thrown down; his arm was broken cruelly. He and the Kishion disappeared through some form of magic, but the Kishion said the word ‘Kenatos’ before he left, so I assumed he was brought back to the city, that I would find him here.”

Shivu shook his head. “I must speak to the Arch-Rike.”

A pulse of alarm ran through Hettie at the words. “Tell me what happened to my uncle after we left. I have only just heard word that there was some destruction at the tower. Do you know what happened?”

Master Shivu folded his fingers above his mouth. “Your uncle was declared a traitor to Kenatos, child. There are accusations that he was plotting with our enemies to overthrow the city.”

Hettie exhaled deeply. What else would a Bhikhu master believe? She hesitated a moment before replying. The truth was a careful balancing act. “I have no knowledge of such a thing. The treasure he sent us to find was gone. There was evidence all around the entrance that others had been there long before we arrived. I think he was sending us far away to protect us from harm.” She sighed deeply. “If the Arch-Rike wants my uncle, he may want me as well. I should be going.”

Shivu gave her a wan smile. “I will not send you to the Rikes, child. You are under my protection. Even the Arch-Rike himself has no authority within these walls. He relies on the Bhikhu to keep the peace. May I assume you are here in peace?”

Hettie nodded. “I only came because I thought Paedrin was here.” She bit her lip. “It would relieve me greatly to know that he was safe.”

“I am sure that if he was wounded, as you say, the Arch-Rike is tending to his injuries as we speak. I will send word in the morning and see what I can learn. You look tired. Why don’t you rest for the night?”

“Thank you,” Hettie said, trying to hide her smile. These Bhikhu were so easy to manipulate that it almost wasn’t fair. But still, there was a part of her, deep down, that nagged her. Why wouldn’t the Arch-Rike have sent word that Paedrin was back in the city? She was certain she was imagining the trouble. Borrowing worry where there was none. He would show up, smug and confident and boasting of his duel with the Kishion. That was just his way. She was sure of it.