The Fire Seer Read Free Page A

do fine. You always worried too much.” His eyes dropped to the fire agate on her belt. “So you’re a fire seer now.”
    “I know you thought I’d never amount to anything.”
    “I never thought that,” said Mandir.
    “Let’s put it another way,” said Taya. “You tried very hard to make sure I wouldn’t amount to anything.”
    Mandir said nothing.
    “You can get out of my house now,” said Taya.
    Mandir didn’t move. “I’m not the boy I was five years ago.”
    “I’m not the girl I was then either.”
    “Just because you’re a fire seer doesn’t mean you can order me around.”
    “I’m not ordering you around. I’m telling you to leave me alone when we’re not working on the mission,” said Taya. “And I can see you’re exactly the boy you were five years ago.”
    “Trust me, there are a few differences.”
    Taya looked him over. Indeed there were a few differences, not that she cared. She liked men who respected her, who didn’t see farmer-caste girls as worthless pieces of trash to be laughed at, fucked if they were pretty, and then tossed away. “I know what you are, Mandir. We’re not having dinner together, or speaking to each other at all other than what’s required for this mission. And after the mission, we’re parting ways forever. I’m letting the Coalition know I won’t be partnered with you again.”
    Mandir leaned back in his chair. “That’s how it’s going to be?”
    “That’s how it’s going to be.”
    “Well, I’m taking dinner in the courtyard. It’s an oven in here.” He rose, walked to her front door and barred it, then headed for the courtyard door. “I’m barring the doors of the empty houses. Keep your courtyard door unbarred at all times. That’s an order from your quradum . There’s a jackal on the loose, and I need to be able to reach you. Understand?”
    “If you’ll stay out,” said Taya grudgingly.
    He held up his hand in a touching-fingers gesture. “Good night, banana girl.”

Chapter 3: Mohenjo Temple, Nine Years Ago
     
    Taya was fourteen and terrified. Of the twenty or so initiates who sat with her, whispering among themselves on the floor of rushes, not one of them appeared to be of her caste. Seven of them were ruling caste; they bore the requisite facial tattoos. They had found one another and were comparing bloodlines. The rest seemed all to be artisan caste. Taya had made the mistake of blurting out her full name to the first girl who had asked. That girl had turned away in contempt, and now no one would speak to her.
    The door opened, and the room fell silent. A woman wearing the green and silver of an ilittum swept into the room and faced the crowd. “In ages past, not long after the Great Atrocity,” she began, “the Valley of the Lioness was home to many quail, yet the quail lived apart, each bird jealous of its own patch of ground.”
    Taya blinked in surprise. She had been expecting a lecture, or instruction of some kind, not a story.
    “A hunter came to the valley and began trapping the birds,” the ilittum continued. “One by one, he caught them with his net. The birds that survived knew that if they did not change their ways, they too would end up in the hunter’s net. So they held a meeting. They decided that from then on, they would stay together, all in one flock, to foil the hunter.
    “The hunter came upon them as they were feeding thus, all together, and he thought, ‘Aha! I shall catch them in my net all at once, and feast tonight.’ So he threw his net over the flock. But the quail cried to one another, ‘Now! Together!’ They flew up and lifted the net with them. They lifted it right out of the hunter’s hands. They carried the net over the Lioness and dropped it in the water, where it was lost forever. And that is why, to this day, we never find quail alone.”
    The ilittum spread her arms. “Welcome, children, to the Coalition. There was a time when our people were like the foolish quail. We lived