Free Dreams of Fire and Gods 2: Fire by James Erich

dark now,” Koreh observed.
    “I can.” Geilin picked up the flint and iron from the table and lit the large beeswax candle with it. The warm yellow-gold glow of the candle flame illuminated Geilin’s kindly face, and for the first time in twenty-four hours, Koreh felt some of the tension in his gut ease a bit. Geilin would help. He would find a way out.
    “Now,” Geilin said, “suppose you tell me why you’ve been sitting here in the dark.”
“I’ve been waiting to talk to you.”
    Geilin moved to the fireplace, where a cast-iron kettle hung over cold coals. He touched the sides of the kettle gingerly and then frowned. “Ah, for the days when I could heat water for tea with a simple incantation…. What did you want to talk about? It must be serious, if you’re here chatting with me rather than visiting with Sael.”
    “Sael’s in danger.”
“Oh dear. Again?”
“I’m serious,” Koreh said, irritated by the old man’s flippant attitude.
    “I’m sure you are. I merely observe that Sael has never stopped being in danger since we escaped from güKhemed.” Geilin gave up on the kettle and came back to the table, drawing up the other chair so he could sit across from Koreh. “Now tell me what this is about.”
    Koreh relayed the Taaweh’s plan for the rescue of the Iinu Shavi, or what little he’d been able to pry from his companion the night before. “He wouldn’t tell me which one of us will die—only that one of us will,” Koreh finished.
    Geilin nodded thoughtfully, and seemed to be weighing his words carefully when he finally asked, “And somehow you want me to stop Sael from taking part in this mission?”
“Of course!”
    “And how do you propose I do that? Once he finds out, he’ll assume that you are the one in danger and he’ll insist that we prevent you from going. Or he’ll insist on accompanying you.”
“You have to persuade him not to go!” Koreh insisted.
    Geilin sighed wearily. “Koreh… I’ve relinquished any political power I may have wielded—”
    “Sael doesn’t care about politics,” Koreh interrupted. He wasn’t actually sure what Geilin was referring to, and he wasn’t entirely certain it was true that Sael didn’t care about politics. But he knew Sael loved and respected Geilin more than he did his own father. “He’ll listen to you. He’ll do what you say.”
    “Would you ?” Geilin countered. “If I told you that Sael was going on a dangerous mission, but you should stay behind, would you listen to me?”
    Koreh knew he would not. But then, as much as he respected Geilin, the old man was still a relative stranger to him. “I’m not Sael,” he said.
    Geilin harrumphed and shook his head. “You don’t give him enough credit, you know. You still think of him as a spoiled, self-absorbed aristocrat. But if he thought you were in danger, I don’t think Vek Worlen himself could prevent Sael from running after you.” “Then we can’t let him find out.”
    “What’s to stop the Taaweh from appearing in his chambers, just as you’ve done, and telling him directly?”
Koreh knew neither he nor Geilin would be able to prevent that.
    “I’ve noticed,” Geilin said, standing up and walking to the fireplace again, “that you haven’t suggested the possibility of neither of you going. What do you think the Taaweh would do if you refused?”
    Koreh was startled by the question. For all his anxiety over the possibility of Sael being killed or injured, it had never occurred to him to say no. “I don’t know,” he replied. “They never talk about possibilities. Everything to them is predetermined. I don’t think I could turn them down.”
“Why not?”
    “Because it has to be done. Somehow the Iinu Shavi must be released, or the war will go on forever. She—and possibly the Iinu Shaa— they’re the only hope of defeating the Stronni.”
    Geilin chuckled and shook his head sadly. “So they started a war, knowing that they would be unable to