The Fire Mages' Daughter by Pauline M. Ross Page A

tossed onto the flames of the brazier. At once the tent filled with aromatic smoke, the scent as delicate as moonroses.
    Beside me, Vhar-zhin closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She was fond of incense and burning oils, her sitting room always filled with essence of something or other. I was less fond, and I suspected our hosts were trying to induce a state of less alertness in us. Or something worse, perhaps.
    I turned to Ly-haam. “I have monopolised your attention for too long. Please forgive me. I shall step outside for a while. Highness Vhar-zhin will remain to answer your questions.”
    I rose and made for the entrance, but to my annoyance he jumped up and followed me out of the tent. I didn’t wait for him, but set off at once towards the lake. It was mostly hidden from view by the bulk of the many tents – clava , I supposed I should call them – but I caught glimpses of shimmering blue here and there. I was exhausted, but the sight exhilarated me, drawing me along as if on strings.
    Ly-haam bounced up and past me, turning to face me, still smiling. “May I show you around, Princess? Would you like to see the rest of the village?”
    “Perhaps later,” I said. What I would like was a few moments alone, but I could hardly say so. “I should like to see the lake. You are lucky to live beside such a vista.”
    “The lake.” He paused, head on one side, and it was almost as if he were listening to something. Then he nodded. “Yes. The lake. This way, Princess.”
    “My correct title is Highness.” I kept my tone pleasant, but firm enough to convey my wish that he get it right in future. But he merely smiled – everything made him smile. It was most disconcerting.
    When we reached it, the lake was, after all, just a modest body of water. A light breeze ruffled the surface, and a party of ducks bobbed up and down, making their way steadily to a patch of reeds. Only the single island, away in the distance, distinguished this lake from a thousand others.
    There was a small beach of shingle and sand, and I strode out to the very edge of the water. It was as if something drew me, but I had no idea what. The island, perhaps, far out on the water, like a ship sailing. I crouched down and buried my fingers in the sand, and there it was, that little buzz of energy from the earth that always lifted my spirits. It was not enough, but it was something.
    Ly-haam watched me, twisting his hands and hopping from foot to foot. His expression – I couldn’t read him at all. I was weary to my bones, but it was essential to make the effort. There was so little time to get to know these people, and work out what they wanted from us. I took a deep breath.
    “Is the fishing good?” I asked.
    “Fish? No, no. Not here. No fish at all. The water is bad.” He swayed back and forth, and for the first time he seemed unsettled. “Shall we go back?”
    It was too good an opportunity to waste. I didn’t want to anger him, but it would be useful to needle him a little, to see if I could learn something about him.
    “It is a pretty spot,” I said. “The island out there – why does it have trees on it when there are none on the shore?”
    It was an idle question, and I didn’t expect him to have an answer. He was flummoxed, however, and stood in silence, bobbing on his toes, hands clenching and unclenching. There was no smile now.
    “We must go back.”
    “But I—”
    I took a step forwards, drawn towards the lake, but he grabbed my hand, as if to pull me away.
    Astonishingly, something tingled between us, from my hand to his, or perhaps it was the other way round. Ly-haam dropped my hand as if it was on fire, his eyes round.
    I squeaked in alarm.
    At the sound, my bodyguard materialised, with the rasp of a sword half-drawn.
    “Sorry,” Ly-haam said, backing away from me. “I should not have… Sorry, so sorry.”
    “Highness?” the bodyguard said.
    “No, I am…” I was about to say that I was all right, but I wasn’t