Megan O'Keefe - Inherit the Flame

The really annoying thing about being tortured was that Detan hadvolunteered for the experience. He hung from the ceiling of a nastylittle room in the yellowhouse, ropes digging into the tender flesh ofhis wrists. Slowly, he spun, toes brushing the grit of the floor, bodytwisting as he struggled to grip the rope and haul himself up to relievethe pain. No use. Hed been there too long, and each time he managed tolift himself the muscles of his arms and shoulders trembled until hefell again. The ropes bit all the deeper for the extra weight jerkedupon them.

Aella laughed. He tried to glare at her, but with the sack pulled overhis head he probably just scowled at a blank wall.

Sadist, he said.

Need I remind you this was your idea? Though Im beginning to think itwas a poor one. Were to test your control, Honding. If you keep lippingoff, remaining calm, then greater measures will need to be taken.

The butt of Misols spear scraped pointedly against the hard stone. Heswallowed.

I cant help it if you cant get a rise out of me, Aella. I supposeyour flavor of fear just isnt my type.

His body screamed at him to shut his mouth, to button up to stop thepain from coming. But hed asked for this. Needed it, if he were beinghonest with himself. Needed to know where the fine limits of his controlrested, and just how hard they could be nudged.

Aella tsked. Her bare feet pattered against the floor as she paced.Shed taken her slippers off to keep the blood from staining. A fullshift of the moon, and we havent been able to push the limits of yourtemper. A pity, for you, that Pelkaia taught you her calming techniques.If youd come to me ignorant, then we could have kept our measures mild.I wonder, she hmmed to herself, if I shouldnt have kept Tibal afterall.

He went rigid.

Oh, he was useless to me, really, she continued. Her tunic shifted,the slight rustle of fabric telling him she was circling. Like a sharkthatd scented blood. He tried to keep his head down, his body loose,while she paced. No sense in his thin little body. No sense in hishead, either, to have followed you around as long as he did. I wonderhow much it hurt him, to hear you tell him off? I wonder: just where didit cut? Is he still bleeding inside? Or is he done with you already?Found another capering idiot to keep alive with his spare time?

Perhaps I should have kept him, just to put him out of his misery.There is still time, I suppose. Misol, how long do you think it wouldtake to reach Hond Steading?

Monsoons are in, Misol replied. On the Larkspur, maybe two weeks.

Oh, but I doubt he took the Larkspur. Her fingers brushed Detansjawline through the bag. He flinched away. No, he took the flier,didnt he? Im sure he had that contraption stashed somewhere, hes sucha sentimental sack of bones. A month, easily, to get to Hond Steading inthe monsoons on that thing. I bet hes not even there yet. I could senda message along, quick as an arrow. Have him scooped up, brought back tomake you sing for his pain. Would you like that, Honding? To see yourlittle friend again? To see him bleed?

Dont you fucking dare. Anger sang through him, thrummed just beneathhis skin, choked him with the urge to lash out, to grab at the thinsheet of selium hovering just above the yellowhouse.

She clapped. Ah, there it is! Arent you a soft soul? Your own painwont do it, but those of others whips you right up. Pity we dont haveanyone you value close to hand.

I think youre just precious, Aella. Why dont you string yourself uphere? Im sure my heart will burst from sadness.

You see? Its that attitude that keeps us from testing you as you are.Misol, prepare a message for Thratias network. Send word that Tibalspresence is requested here at the Remnant, with all haste.

Detans stomach sank, cold sweat dripped between his wrenched shoulderblades. He had to get angry. Had to work up a righteous fury. Itshouldnt be hard. He knew Aella was serious, knew shed do just exactlywhat she said shed do to break him. Images of Tibs hanging in hisplace, dripping sweat and blood and bile onto the hard floor, filledhim. He shivered, nausea threatening to rise, unable to shake his shamewhen what he desperately wanted was a good outburst.

Misol said, Pardon, Miss Ward, but Ive an idea thats a bit closer tohand.

Oh? Dont tell me hes developed a soft spot for you.

Hardly. But there are two women here at the Remnant Ive been keepingan eye on. Friends of Ripkas. Without their help, she would have beentorn apart in the riot on that last day. I bet Honding would feel justterrible if they were to suffer for his insufficiencies.

Im willing to try it. Go collect these women.

Misol slipped from the room, letting the door bang shut behind her.

Those women. Detan licked his cracked lips. They have nothing to dowith this. My control has grown much in the last few weeks, I hardlythink its necessary to bring them into things.

No, they dont. Aella sighed. And while your control is admirable, ithas not been tested under true duress. She gave his ropes a jangle, andhe winced from the hundred tiny lances of pain that raked through hisarms. We must be certain, or would you rather risk blowing the head offsome poor innocent because you believe yourself under control?

Its unnecessarily cruel. His voice drifted into a soft growl.

That is the point. She stroked his cheek with the back of her hand.And isnt it just heaps of fun?

Hond Steading lay like a pearl without the shelter of its shell upon thehorizon. The great city, the first city, the heart of all the Scorchedcontinent, was a cracked open thing. Broken and spread across the widevalley between its renowned firemounts, it sprawled and breathed andpumped, citizens filling out its flush lanes, the figures indistinctfrom a distance but merging together to make a whole as alive andvibrant from above as it must be from up close.

It should have been beautiful. But all Ripka saw, as she squinted overthe forerail of the Larkspur, was an indefensible mess. A loose-knitcluster of urban living threaded between the most valuable resource ofthe Scorched its firemounts ripe and ready for Thratia to pluck.

Looks bad, Nouli said.

He stood beside her, rubbing his hands together as the city sprawl cameinto view.

She gave him a sidelong glance. You think?

He puffed out his cheeks and chuckled. Forgive me, but I have to startsomewhere. This city youve brought me to defend, did you know it wasso He waved a hand over the disparate pieces below.

This is the first time Ive seen it. Detan assured me youd be able tofigure something out.

I appreciate the mans faith, but some things

Prepare to dock! Coss bellowed from the nav podium.

Activity burst across the deck. Pelkaias crew scrambled to their tasks,the ship turning on a knifes edge to slew toward its destination.Desert air gusted against Ripkas cheeks, sweeping her hair from herface and neck. She breathed deep of the rock-and-dust scent, caught ahint of the weedy greens that flourished below. After so long on theRemnant, setting down in a proper Scorched city again felt like cominghome.

Thats better, Nouli said.

Ripka had to agree. As the Larkspur swung about, the ship pointed themat the citys core, the dense urban center that swarmed around theHonding family palace. It backed up against the largest of the citysfiremounts. The palace itself stepped up the side of the mountain, butthe city stayed resolutely in the belly of the valley. A wall swaddledthe dense-packed heart of the city.

Compared to the wall that had encircled Aransa, it was a meager thing.It must have been some vestige of the citys earlier life, when it waslittle more than a frontier outpost. Now the gates stood wide open,disgorging citizens in both directions. While Ripka doubted those gateshad been shut in decades, the mere sight of them eased her worries. Atleast they had some sort of defensive measure to work with.