If this is your first time here, check out chapter 1, chapter 2, and chapter 3 before reading on.

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Chapter 4 – Lady of Smoke

Gray plumes of smoke curled in the grate as Himmel rested in a wooden rocking chair before the hearth. The floorboards creaked along with his chair as he swayed forward and back. The sun set low in the dirty panes of glass, casting a deep orange glow in the one-room house. 

Himmel watched in fascination as the smoke wove its way up the chimney, taking a long pull on his pipe. A finger stroked the silver chain of the medallion he’d taken to wearing, the metal warm beneath his touch. The log popped and sparks flew out at him, but he didn’t move. 

 In the background, Betany made a carrot and potato pie, something he was actually eager to eat. The smells of the pie’s ingredients cooking made his mouth water. If it was as delicious as it smelled, Himmel was going to kiss his horse full on the mouth. Nothing Betany made ever tasted better than it smelled. It was worse.

He took another long drag on his pipe and leaned forward, studying the writhing embers as the fire ate through the log. As the wood cracked and popped, strands of smoke wove together to form images. A horse and cart. A man with his two sons. Another man with a smarmy walk swagged across the log. Then a bigger horse and cart appeared, swallowing up the smaller one.

Himmel’s hand tightened around the medallion and he tore his gaze away. He didn’t want to revisit what happened in town today. He didn’t want to remember that the only person who was kind to him was now gone.

The bitter leaf in his pipe made his throat burn. He sucked in another breath before opening his mouth and letting the tangy smoke filter through his teeth to mingle with that in the hearth.

No matter how hard he pulled on the pipe, no matter how much the leaf burned his insides, his mounting anger refused to slow. He wanted the embers before him to catch onto the wooden shingles of the Meyer’s home. To turn it into the biggest bonfire the town had ever seen. He savored the thought as he took his next pull on the pipe. 

“Do you have to smoke that thing in here?” Betany groused from her place at the table. She was attempting to make potato bread from a few of the tubers she’d boiled for dinner.

“I’ll do what I want, woman.” He took another drag on the pipe, trying to calm his nerves.

“You will do what you want and so will I,” Betany said before stomping around the table, grabbing the pipe, opening the nearest window, and throwing it out. She slammed the window shut before returning to her bread dough. “It reeks of burned moss and your teeth are getting greener by the day.”

“I’ve seen you pull on it before too, lass. So don’t give me a hard time.” He pushed up from his chair and stomped over to the window. He opened it to search for his pipe in the weeds below. Who knew how far it flew?

“Yes. However, if I do it, I take it outside. I don’t enjoy smelling burned swamp inside the house.” Betany glared up at him, then returned to her task. 

Himmel straightened. He’d have to wait until tomorrow to find it. It would be impossible in the dark. With a huff, he returned to his rocking chair and flopped down into his seat. The backs of his teeth ground together with nothing to slow his agitation.

Jude Meyer’s face seemed to form in the smoke; his leering expression seemed to say, “Hello, Schrat. Enjoying your last meal?”

The medallion grew hot on Himmel’s skin. What he wouldn’t give for a way to get back at the councilor. To humiliate and intimidate him the way he did to everyone else. 

A log popped in the grate, and a forceful shower of sparks exploded, landing on the floor. Himmel stood ready to stomp out the glowing embers when smoke swirled in an unnatural upward spiral. He stared at it. This trail of smoke seemed to have a mind of its own. It swiveled back and forth, entering the space next to his rocking chair.

Before his eyes, the thread grew and swelled until the faint outline of a woman materialized before him. He jumped back with a cry, stumbling into his rocking chair and crashed to the floor as the woman came into focus.

Betany’s head popped up and screamed at the sight of the smoke woman. She ducked, cowering behind the table. “It’s a demon!”

The smoke woman smiled, testing each limb with obvious delight. Black hair shot through with burning red, flared like the coals in the fireplace. A heart-shaped face that housed dark eyes and violent red lips stared in Betany’s direction. A cruel smile lit her lips. “Far from a demon, my dear.” 

Then those dark windows behind her lashes turned to Himmel, still dumbstruck on the floor. “Because of this man here, I’ve been able to bend the bars of my prison.”

Her lilting voice wafted through his mind like the incense sold in town. Himmel stared at her like a deer caught before a hunter. “Wh–who are you?”

The woman’s glowing ember-like hair rippled as she narrowed her eyes, staring at the emerald medallion around his neck with a hungry expression. Though her feet made no sound on the old wood floor, she approached like the rapid flames of a forest fire. “I think the question I need answered first is, who are you?”

Himmel scrambled to his feet at her approach, not wanting to stare up at her any longer. “I’m Himmel. Himmel Worsden, Miss. And this is my wife, Betany.”

Betany didn’t blink as she backed farther away from the smokey figure.

“And how, Master Worsden, did you come to possess the Earthspark medallion, when I last saw it pinioning away through the sky? What is the year?”

He straightened. “It’s 1287, madame.”

“1287?” she cut in. Her brows pinched together. “Impossible. It was 6734 when Tellen sent me to the depths.”

The woman paced before the hearth, tapping her red lips with a finger. “I suppose that time-meddler of a dragon could be involved, but if so, why am I still like this?”

A growing suspicion of who this woman might be entered Himmel’s mind. But that wasn’t possible. The Guardians were myths. Weren’t they? If that were the case, however, then how did this medallion get stuck in that tree?

“The time keepers started their count over after the Guardians disappeared,” Betany said from behind a chair. “It’s been over twelve hundred years since the change occurred.”

The woman peered around the room through narrowed eyes, unconvinced.

Himmel cleared his throat. “I found this medallion at the center of a great redwood here in the forest.”

“You found this inside of a tree?” The smoke woman raised an eyebrow.

“I’m a woodcutter, madame.”

The woman laughed, a sound that made Himmel cringe in fright. “How quaint. My brother’s medallion, found by a woodcutter.”

She sauntered toward Himmel again, but he’d backed up to the same window his pipe had sailed through and couldn’t get any farther. 

Smoke curled around the woman’s edges. Her eyes shone bright, but the rest of her remained murky. “Though your craft ties you to the earth, I sense Fire in you, Himmel Worsden. You burn with a flame for vengeance. I can help you.”

“You still haven’t said who you are,” Betany pointed out, a frying pan now in her quivering hand.

The woman didn’t take her eyes off Himmel. “I am Fiora Moratis, Guardian of the Firespark. And I can help you both gain retribution from all those people who’ve mistreated you. But first, you must help me.”

Himmel glanced at Betany. She gave him a shrug. He swallowed hard before speaking. “What sort of help would a Guardian need?” He still wasn’t convinced she was who she claimed.

Fiora appraised them. “With the surname of Worsden, I can assume you carry no Comstock blood in you. Am I correct?”

Himmel barked a mirthless laugh despite his nerves. “Those highborns don’t mingle with us uplanders. There’s not one ounce of royal blood in either of our lines.”

“And yet, you could call forth the power of the medallion. Interesting,” she mused. “Have you ever heard of Hein wolves or Grimmoles?”

“The demon wolves I’ve heard of, but I’m unfamiliar with Grimmoles.”

Fiora smoothed invisible wrinkles from her dress, taking a step back. “At the moment, I am merely a projection of myself, using the magic of the smoke and the medallion to reach you. However, deep within these mountains, underneath an abandoned prison, my body resides. I need you to free me.”

Himmel risked another glance at Betany even as he pressed his palms into the smooth wood logs of the wall. This woman sounded like a smooth-talking swindler trying to cut his purse. “How would freeing you allow us to get revenge on the councilors of Feltus? That seems to be asking a lot without any gain for us.”

Fiora eyed him with renewed, albeit grudging, respect. “You would be my second in command as we tore down what remains of the free people of Tellidus. Then we would set our sights on the Northern Tribes.”

“What do you have against the tribes, eh? They dump a load of ice on this prison of yours?” Himmel chuckled to himself.

Fiora’s expression grew stony before she turned away to peer at what was on their table. A long pale finger traced the grains in the wood. “They trapped my mate, Darius. He’s still alive, but only just. I intend to free him before the ice steals him from me permanently.”

“If I’m going to help you, then you must help me first.” Himmel crossed his arms. He’d done enough trading to know when he wasn’t getting a fair deal.

Fiora glowed brighter, her hair shifting color from black to red in rapid succession, the way a cat’s fur ripples when it’s agitated. “And what demand would you make of a Guardian, human?” She spat the word out like a curse. 

“I want you to make the Meyers bow to me. If you are who you say, then you should be able to help me strike fear into their greasy, snake-oiled hearts.”

Fiora’s lower lip fell into a pout. “If only you had found my medallion, that would be easily done. You could have burned them and every other person in your wallow of a town to cinders. Alas, with my brother’s medallion, you’ll need more time and practice to wield it. Even then, it may not be enough to produce the force necessary to tumble this town.”

She paced in front of the hearth again, leaving a trail of soot in her wake. Then she paused, a gleam in her black eyes. “You may not have enough power to send this town to its knees, but the Grimmole I spoke of earlier has another method. You say you found the medallion inside a tree? Are we in the woods now?”

“Yes. We live deep in the woods away from town.” Betany stood up from behind the table, frying pan still in hand.

A smile touched the corner of Fiora’s lips. Then she closed her eyes, splaying her fingers. Himmel shared another glance with Betany. His wife looked ready to send the frying pan through the smokey apparition.

Then Fiora’s smile widened, revealing sharp teeth. “This couldn’t be more perfect. One of my Grimmoles lies nearby.”

“What exactly is a Grimmole?” Betany asked, eyebrows raised.

“How about we go outside and find out?”