Chainfire: Chainfire Trilogy Part 1

With that renewed fear, her feet ran all the faster, padding with a steady beat over the dusty ground. As she got closer, Jillian saw men packing their travel goods on the mules. Women collected cooking utensils, filled water containers, and carried clothes and tents out from their summer homes and storage buildings. It looked to Jillian that they had been aware of the approaching strangers for some time as they were already well advanced in their preparations to depart.

"Ma!" Jillian called out when she saw her mother packing her pot atop a mule already piled high with their belongings. "Ma!"

Her mother flashed a quick smile and held out a sheltering arm. Even though she was getting past the age for such things, Jillian nuzzled under that arm like a chick burrowing under a mother hen's wing.

"Jillian, get your things." Her mother shooed her with a hand. "Hurry."

Jillian knew better than to question at a time like this. She wiped away her tears and ran to the small, square, ancient building they used as their home when they summered on the plains near the headland. The men sometimes had to replace the roofs when the worst of the weather tore them off, but, other than that, the rest of the stout, squat buildings were the very same buildings constructed by their ancestors who had once built and lived in the deserted city of Caska, up on the headland.

Grandfather, looking drawn and pale as she imagined a ghost might look, waited in the shadows just inside the door. He was not hurrying. Terror swelled in Jillian's chest. She realized that he couldn't come with them. He was old and frail. Like some of the other older people, he wouldn't be swift enough to keep up with the rest of them if they were to escape. She could see in his eyes that he had no intention of trying.

She sank into her grandfather's tender embrace and started wailing even as he comforted her.

"There, there, child," he said, his hand stroking her short-cropped hair. "No time for this."

Grandfather grasped her arms and eased her away as she tried her best to bring her sobbing under control. She knew that she was old enough that she shouldn't be crying in such a way, but she just couldn't help it. He squatted down, his leathery face wrinkling as he smiled at her and brushed away a tear.

Jillian swiped away the rest of her tears, trying to be strong and act her age. "Grandfather, Lokey showed me the strangers who are coming."

He was nodding. "I know. I sent him."

"Oh" was all she could think to say. Her world was turning upside down and it was hard to think, but somewhere in the back of her mind she realized that he had never before done such a thing. She'd never known he could, but, knowing her grandfather, it didn't really surprise her.

"Jillian, listen to me. These men who are coming are the ones I always told you would come. Those who can are going away for a while to hide."

"For how long?"

"For as long as necessary. These men who ride this way are only a small number of those who will eventually come."

Her eyes grew wide. "You mean there are more? But there are so many. They raise more dust than I have ever seen before. There can be more strangers than these?"

His smile was brief and bitter. "These are only a survey party, I expect-the first advance scouts of many more to come. This vast and desolate land is unknown to them. I expect they are looking for routes through it, testing to see if there will be any opposition. I'm afraid that according to the tellings, the men they scout for are more in number than even I can grasp. I believe that these other men, with their uncountable numbers, are yet some time in coming, but even this advance party will be dangerous, ruthless men. Those of our people who are able must flee and hide for now.

"Jillian, you cannot go with them."

Her jaw dropped. "What —?"

"Listen to me. The times I have told you about are upon us."

"But, Ma and Pa won't allow.»

"They will allow what I tell them they must, just as our people must," he said in a stern voice. "This is about far greater matters, matters that have never before involved our people-at least not since our ancestors filled the city. Now these things concern us as well."

Jillian nodded solemnly. "Yes, Grandfather." She was terror stricken, but at the same time she felt an awakening sense of duty to her grandfather's call. If he intended to trust her with such things, then she could not fail him.

"What is it am I to do, then?"

"You are to be the priestess of the bones, the carrier of dreams."

Jillian's mouth again fell open. "Me?"

"Yes, you."

"But I'm still too young. I've not been trained in such things."

"There is no more time, child." He leaned toward her in admonition. "You are the one to do this, Jillian. I have already taught you much of the tellings. You may think you are unprepared, or that you are not old enough, and all that may have some truth to it, but you know more than you may realize. What's more, there is no other. It is upon you to do this."