I backed up and the wolf snapped at a few villagers who came too close, growling a warning at the others. I only vaguely became aware of the fire burning brightly beside me, and the merry fire spirits that danced through the flames. As if sensing my fear, the fire spirits turned on the crowd, going closer to the people and reaching out to them with their blazing hands.
“Stop!” I called. “Don’t!”
The spirits ignored me and one ignited the sleeve of a man’s jacket. He yelped in pain and threw the clothes to the ground, stamping it with one booted foot. The action only angered the fire spirits more, and they surged forward to set the entire city on ablaze. The people shrank back, yelling to their neighbours to beware of the witch who threatened to burn their homes. I cried out to the fire spirits again, but they ignored my words. The fire danced off down an alley, and I hurried to follow when I felt a firm hand on my uninjured arm. I spun around angrily.
“Let me go! I have to – “
Clothis raised an eyebrow at me questioningly. “You have to what? Did you start the fire? Are you a witch?”
“No!” I protested. “I didn’t start the fire, but I know what did. I have to stop them!”
“You have to return to the palace with the prince,” Clothis said firmly. “The people are crying for your blood.”
I looked at the two glowing seeds in my hands, and back to the fire spirits who were happily burning Damaeon’s beloved city to the ground. I wrenched my arm free of Clothis’ grasp and the wolf quickly put himself between us.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I think I’m the only one who can stop them.”
Without waiting, I ran after the fire spirits. The heat was intense, and I kept the green glowing seeds safely enfolded in my palm. I watched the humanoid shapes of the fire spirits leap from rooftop to rooftop, laughing to themselves. I could hear them, understand their language. I increased my speed until I was standing directly in front of them and transferred the seeds to my injured hand. I held up my marked palm to face them.
“Stop!” I commanded in a voice that did not sound like my own.
Surprised, the fire spirits stopped. They stared at me in shock as I took deep breaths to calm my pounding heart. The mark on my hand flared with a green light, the same glow that had come from the two seeds now clenched in my other hand. The fire recoiled with an audible hiss.
“You’ve caused enough damage,” I told the spirits. “Be gone!”
Like chastised children, the flames disappeared. The spirits remained for longer, staring at me with large white eyes, completely amazed that I had stopped their fun. I kept my eye firmly on them until they vanished in a puff of smoke, the wolf growling at them on my behalf. Exhausted, I took a deep breath and felt my heart settle again, until numerous hands grabbed me and lifted me into the air.
“Drown the witch!” the people below me called. “She commands the spirits!”
“Hey!” I objected.
The wolf snapped at a few people on my behalf, but could do nothing against so many people with swords and spears. They carried me towards the palace, seeking justice from their prince. I was tossed to the stones before the palace steps, and pain shot through my injured arm as I landed. I swore softly to myself against the throbbing and raised my head to see Prince Damaeon standing before me, with Clothis at his side.
“Trial!” the people were shouting. “Judgment! The witch tried to destroy the city!”
I stayed on my knees, looking at the kindly prince pleadingly. His eyes had gone hard as he stared at me and I felt my hopes drop. He nodded to Clothis, who picked me up roughly and held me on my feet. The prince turned to address the crowd.
“Who charges this woman with witchcraft?” he demanded.
The entire crowd roared that they all did. I winced.
Damaeon looked at me. “How do you plead?”
“Innocent!” I stammered.
“She set the fire by magic! We all saw her!” someone yelled.
Damaeon looked at me with one raised eyebrow. “Well?”
“I did not use magic to set the fire.”
“But you did set the fire?”
“No!”
“Then how was the fire set?”
The entire city fell silent as it waited for my answer. Clothis squeezed my arm and I turned to her. Her face was impassive, but I thought I saw the smallest smile on her lips. Was she enjoying this? Damaeon was unreadable, his normally cheerful brown eyes were cold as he waited for my response. My mouth went dry. Should I tell the truth about the fire spirits?
“I am a stranger to these lands,” I announced suddenly. “May I ask why magic is forbidden in this city?”
The crowd gasped collectively and began to murmur amongst itself. Damaeon’s eyes widened momentarily in surprise at my proclamation, but he nodded. He raised his hands for silence, and the people of Oponoe obeyed.
“Stranger,” Damaeon began. “Humans have always been known to be unable to use magic. It is in the blood of the spirits, the elves and the faeries. A human cannot use the gifts given to these races by the Queen. It is unheard of. The few humans who do use magic can do so because they have sold their souls to the Queen in exchange for a few gifts. They are cursed and feared, neither human nor faerie, and are called witches.”
The prince looked at me, and his voice once again took on a hard edge. “So I ask you again. Are you, or are you not, a witch?”
“I am not,” I said.
“Then how was the fire set, when you carried no torch?”
I bit my lip. If the Dyrel despised witches so much, what would they think of someone who could see and talk to spirits? How was I to be the Promised Child to Damaeon, bring peace to the people of Oponoe, when they wanted me dead?