The Howling Delve - Jaleigh Johnson [40]
Meisha wrapped her arms around her knees, intending to keep watch. The wizard would come, she was certain of it.
As soon as she allowed herself to relax, exhaustion stole ovet her. She dozed in fits, tucked between a wall studded with jagged spikes and the pile of rubble.
The only pocket of life for miles, Meisha thought faintly, and a fragile one it was.
She roused to darkness and stinging pain in her fingers. At first, Meisha thought it was the cold, but then she felt fur under her hands. Revulsion shook her instantly awake. She chanted the words to bring back her light.
Two rats crawled on Shaera's chest. Meisha swatted them viciously into the wall, impaling one on a spike. Her hands shook as she adjusted Shaera's bloody shirt, covering the ugly bites.
"Forgive me," she said haltingly. She'd fotgotten Shaeta's a long-ago lesson, that light was the only thing that kept away the tats.
She brushed the hair back from Shaera's face, wondering how long they'd been asleep. The apprentice's eyes fluttered open and looked blearily up at her. She opened her lips a crack, but only air escaped, a thick wheeze that Meisha feared was Shaera ttying to breathe through blood.
"Varan is coming for us," Meisha said urgently, even as the light in the woman's eyes started to waver. "Do you hear me, Shaera? You have to hold on a little longer." Her voice quivered; tears burned her throat. "I can hear them in the tunnel. Listen, they're coming down the slope."
Shaera licked her lips and whispered something barely audible. Meisha didn't understand the language, but the rise and fall of the words was familiar-the rhythm of prayer. When the words trailed off, the light in Shaeta's eyes went dark.
Meisha sat perfectly still fot a long time. Shaera's cheek rested heavy and cold on her hand. Absently, she wiped the blood from the girl's face with her sleeve. She should have done it earlier but hadn't thought to. When her face was clean, Meisha laid the girl's head back and closed her vacant eyes.
"He didn't come."
Meisha heatd her voice, but the words seemed to come from far away. Dazed, she rose to her feet. Her movement awoke fresh scurrying in the shadows. The rats waited just outside the pale circle of het light, ready to dart in for a meal.
Meisha stared into the darkness. Fire awakened within het. Heedless of the danget, Meisha reached deep inside herself and found the untouched well of powet Varan had warned her about.
She gazed down at Shaera's corpse, half-buried in the rubble. Fire sprang up in quivering columns, forming a protective ring around the girl's body.
Illuminated by the fire ring, Shaera's face appeared peaceful. Meisha committed it to memory, then made a swift gesture with her hand.
The columns fell inward like spokes on a flaming wheel. Shaera's body ignited, the fire burning so hot and fast that it consumed her flesh in less time than it had taken to cast the spell.
When the fire died, Meisha tried to slow her breathing. She quickly gave up. She would not find calm again. Only one thing would satisfy her now.
Kneeling among the stones, Meisha scooped up a handful of ash and put it in one of her empty pouches. Whatever else remained of Shaera would have to stay in the tunnel. Meisha prayed her spirit would find the halls of whatever god or goddess she'd been praying to.
Taking up her rope, Meisha started the long climb back to Varan's sanctuary. She could feel the heat building within her. Darkly, she welcomed it.
He was waiting for her. Jonal must have warned him. Meisha made sure he felt the heat before he saw her.
She came around the corner at a leisutely walk. She projected no flame, but she could see Varan's eyes watering as he beheld her. Swiftly, he cast up a barrier against her spell.
"Gods, you are magnificent to behold," he whispered; "You are fire."
She didn't answer, only increased