The Firebrand Legacy Read Free Page A

were wide, and
her shoulders rose and sank so quickly that she could pass out.
    “We’re not the only ones in hiding now,” Mom
gasped.
    “What?”
    “The streets are empty. Everyone’s locked
inside. There’s no one out. Did either of you notice when the music
stopped outside?”
    Come to think of it, the celebrations had
waned over the last several days, and the rain had skirted the
celebrants off the streets. But Carine hadn’t heard a peep from the
festivities since yesterday. Her heart raced.
    “No one’s outside. Even these
vegetables...they were laying on the table unattended, free for the
taking. I just took something and hurried back.”
    “Why? Why are they locked in?” Carine
said.
    “Maybe they finally came to their senses,”
Didda suggested.
    But in the pit of her stomach she knew it was
something worse. There was only one kind of person that would be
powerful enough to empty the streets of its people, especially
during the Ten Dragons Festival.
    Only the Heartless Ones had enough power to
frighten Esten. If their dark magic wasn’t terrible enough, the way
they acquired their power made them loathsome. They started out as
normal folk—humans, fauns, centaurs, gnolls. To gain their power,
they sought out the snow dragon Luzhiv, cut out their own hearts,
and fed them to him. In exchange, the snow dragon preserved their
heartless lives and let them borrow his power.
    Carine trembled. As much as she hated the
dragon Kavariel, the beast did bring their kingdom one thing they
needed: the enchanted flame. Only Kavariel’s flame could splice the
link between the Heartless Ones and Luzhiv. When runners delivered
tongues of the flame to the ten towers that surrounded
Navafort—including its capital city Esten—those blinking lights
meant protection from the Heartless Ones.
    These nine days were the longest Navafort had
ever gone without the flame. Now, Kavariel’s flame wasn’t here to
stop them. For the first time, the Heartless Ones could enter
Navafort without a threat.
    “That doesn’t make sense,” Didda said. “The
Heartless Ones know that as soon as Kavariel relights the flames
they’ll die.”
    Mom wiped her face. “I thought the same
thing, but then I realized that maybe everyone knows something that
we don’t. And then…I saw blood. Down the street at the northwest
square. A lot of it. And as I ran back, someone followed me. I
tried to run a long way, so he couldn’t track me, but…I don’t know
if I lost him.” Her voice broke, and Didda wrapped his arm around
Mom’s shoulder.
    “Someone followed you here?” Carine said,
voice rising in horror. “Here? Can’t we do something?”
    “That’s what I’m telling you,” Mom said.
“Hide.”
    Her family owned little; there wasn’t enough
furniture to conceal them.
    “There’s no place to hide,” Carine said.
“We’ll block the door, in case he tries to come in.”
    Mom nodded, wiping her eyes.
    Carine bent over the tree stump that Didda
sat on when he carved. Her fingers dug into the bark. It scraped
the floor as she dragged it to the door. “Help me with the
benches.”
    Didda followed her to the table by the
hearth. They each grabbed an end of the first bench and carried it
to the door. Carine’s arms shook as she carried it. It thudded as
they dropped it to block the doorway.
    “Quietly!” Mom hissed. She bent her ear to
the crack of the door frame. “There was something else too.”
    Carine wiped sweat from her forehead and
searched the room for anything else remotely heavy. She didn’t want
to hear this. She didn’t want to hear any other detail that
threatened the only thing she had ever wanted. Carine had already
lost her sister. It wasn’t too much to ask that her family and
little shoe shop stay safe. It may be dark and lonely, but at least
home was always safe.
    Mom’s voice was little more than a whisper.
“There was a sign carved into some of the front doors. It was never
there before…a heart. But