Free Helpless (Blue Fire Saga) by Scott Prussing

really complain about it.
    Balin gave Leesa a quick hug and then stepped aside so they could all come inside.
    The interior of the cabin was exactly as Leesa remembered it. The entire place was one room, six paces wide and ten paces long, furnished with simple, handmade wooden furniture. A rectangular dining table with a split log bench on either side filled most of one end of the cabin, and a buckskin sleeping mat stuffed with straw lay upon the plank floor at the other end. In the middle of the room lay a brown bearskin rug so old the fur had worn away down to the skin in several places. Naturally, there was no television, radio or refrigerator anywhere to be seen.
    A small fire popped and crackled in a stone fireplace built into the far wall, adding its flickering light to the illumination cast by four tallow candles high on the walls. Volkaanes did not need fireplaces for warmth, of course, but they often used fires for cooking and light. If necessary, their inner heat could even be used for cooking, but it was usually simpler and more efficient to put something over the fire. A black metal pot hung over the fire right now, the source of the delicious smell that had caused Leesa’s stomach to rumble.
    Once they were all inside, she introduced Balin to Dominic.
    “It’s an honor to meet a waziri,” Balin said as they shook hands. “I had thought your people gone from this world.”
    “Not quite,” Dominic said, “but nearly so, I’m afraid.”
    “Young Rave has explained your relationship with Leesa to me. I hope you don’t mind.”
    Leesa grinned. She loved how Balin always called Rave “young Rave,” even though Rave was more than a century and a half old.
    Dominic shook his head. “I have heard how close you are with Rave. I’m sure I can trust you to keep our secret.”
    “Have no worries about that,” Balin said. “And if there is anything I can do to aid your efforts, just let me know.”
    “Thank you.”
    “So, who wants some stew?” Balin asked. “Or some mead?”
    “Mead?” Dominic said, his tone displaying his desire. “I’ve not tasted mead in ages.”
    “Then you will love Balin’s,” Rave said. “He makes the best mead around.”
    “Leesa?” Balin asked. “Would you like some as well?”
    Leesa was tempted. Balin’s mead really was very good. It was also very strong, however.
    “I’d better not,” she said. “I’m driving. But I’ll definitely have some of your yummy stew.”
    “Coming right up. Have a seat, everyone.”
    Leesa, Rave and Dominic sat down at the table, Rave and Leesa next to each other on the far side and Dominic across from them on the other. Meanwhile, Balin busied himself filling three big pewter mugs from a hand blown glass jar filled with golden liquid. He poured a fourth mug of water for Leesa.
    Leesa noticed Rave staring at her with a puzzled expression on his face.
    “What is it?” she asked.
    “Something is different,” Rave said. “Something about you is prickling my volkaane senses, but I cannot identify it.” He grinned. “Prickling my senses more than usual, that is.”
    Leesa wondered what he was talking about, but then it hit her. Rave must be sensing her ring. She forgot that no one else could see it. She pulled it from her finger.
    Rave’s eyes widened in surprise as the ring suddenly appeared in her hand, and then he smiled.
    “You are full of surprises, Leesa.”
    Leesa returned his smile. “Dominic gave it to me. It’s magical.”
    “I never would have guessed that,” Rave teased.
    Balin’s return interrupted the conversation before Leesa could think of a suitable comeback.
    “Drinks first,” he said as placed a mug in front of each of his guests. “Then stew.” He glanced down at the ring in Leesa’s hand. “That’s a beautiful ring. I didn’t notice it earlier.”
    “It’s magic. Watch.” Leesa slipped it back onto to her finger. To her eyes, nothing changed, but the look on Balin’s face told her he could