Taming Fire by Aaron Pogue Page A

conspire, too, my good Edwin? Have all my wizards betrayed me?"
    Edwin's eyes grew wide in shock. "Not in the least, my liege! You are correct in all things." He released Claighan's arm and walked quickly around the couch to stand by the king. "You are right, my lord, I was overindulgent with him. I forgave him much because he was a former student, but you have shown me my error." He turned to us, an apologetic look in his eyes, then looked back to the king. "I will make an example of them, Your Majesty. None will dare stand against you again!"
    Before the king could respond, before I even knew what was happening, the old man whirled to face us and threw his arms out, shouting some terrible word of power that made the whole room shudder. Bright light flashed in blue and red and blue again, blinding me, and in the same instant a fierce heat flashed through the room. It wrapped around me in bands hair-thin and strong as steel, and before I could find breath to scream the bands began to tighten, digging into my skin. Then I felt a wash of sudden cold all around me, the crushing bands were gone. I sensed darkness outside my tight-shut eyelids.
    For a moment I thought I was dead, destroyed by the wizard's magic, but then I felt a touch light on my arm and Claighan's voice drifted softly to my ears. "We haven't much time, Daven. We must move quickly. Come." When I opened my eyes I was staring at a wall of crude wooden slats. Suddenly the smells and sounds of a stable flooded me, and I realized somehow the wizard had cast us out of the castle. I peeked out the front door and saw we were still in the palace courtyard.
    Claighan turned away from speaking with a groomsman and said in a whisper, "We must move quickly, but everything is prepared. Hopefully we can escape without the king's notice. As soon as the carriage is brought around get in quickly. We have a long ride ahead."
    He started to turn away but I caught his sleeve. "Claighan, will Edwin suffer for this?"
    He looked down at me, the hint of tears in his steely gaze. "Not if we are careful, Daven. Not if we are swift. Come, the carriage is here." We hurried across the courtyard and into the carriage, and as night deepened the king's own horses took us surely and swiftly from the palace where the king raged against us. That is how I met the king, and how I left his audience.

4. Fugitives
    The seats were cushioned and covered in satin, with plush matching pillows strewn in the floorboard. But the luxury of the carriage was lost on me. I knelt on my knees by the door, curtain cracked just enough to peek out and watched the courtyard flash past. I strained to see behind us, to listen for any sound of alarm in the streets as we approached the city gates. The road rattled by beneath us, sharp clop of horses' hooves punctuating the grinding rhythm of wooden wheels against cobblestones.
    We passed out of the city without incident, and a mile south of town my nervous strength finally drained from me. I collapsed back onto my heels. Above me the curtains swayed with the constant roll of the carriage and did little to stop the chill draft that flowed in from the night. Every bump in the road jostled me, throwing my shoulder hard against the wooden box of the seat, but I didn't bother moving.
    Claighan sat with arms crossed in the corner opposite me, staring at nothing. His eyes were sad, his body bent in dejection. The confrontation with the king had hurt him. And again, as he had on the road from Sachaerrich, he mumbled to himself as he laid plans. I tried at first to talk with him, but he ignored me. I spent a while watching the night flow past outside, but the darkness and the cold wind robbed the sights of their interest.
    Two long, squat chests rested in the luggage area atop the cabin, apparently arranged beforehand and carrying Claighan's possessions. I had my sturdy leather bag inside with us, stuffed full and taking up most of the floorspace. Every now and then I looked at