Chandra’s magic was much stronger than whatever pathetic power this lumpish assassin could claim. She only needed another moment… And sure enough, the goblin screamed in pain as he was consumed by the fire, his thrashing discernible even through the shifting wall that closed on him like a molten iron maiden.
When the glowing remnants of the dying goblin vanished and all that remained was her own fire, Chandra let go of her spell. The flames calmed, no longer moving and shifting to imprison her enemy. With nothing fueling it, the fire she had called forth began to die. Within a few moments, it would disappear altogether.
Chandra was breathing heavily, but she was no longer angry. Only her throbbing leg served as a reminder of the rage that had beaten so furiously in her heart moments ago. She wiped perspiration from her face, smoothed away the lingering flames from her long red hair, and leaned over, resting her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath.
Her head turned quickly when she heard footsteps approaching her, but she relaxed when she saw Luti, wearing a long, copper-colored robe. The mother mage’s white hair was loosely braided and hanging over one shoulder. Her dark eyes were alert as she gazed at Chandra’s dying fire on the eastern terrace.
“A goblin attack, they’re saying,” Luti said.
Chandra nodded. “Two of them.”
“Yes, I heard. Unfortunately, no one can find the other one. It must have got away.”
“Oh.” Chandra steadied her breathing and stood upright again. “I don’t think it’ll come back. It didn’t seem to be the persistent type.”
Luti noticed her bleeding leg. “You’re hurt.”
“Goblin claw.”
Luti grimaced. “We’ll have to clean it and keep an eye on it. Fortunately, it doesn’t look serious. But it’ll sting for a few days.”
“Chandra!” Brannon called, running toward her. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she assured him as he reached her side.
“Was that really a goblin, like they’re saying?” he asked eagerly.
“Yes.”
“I wish I had gotten a good look. I’ve never seen one!”
“They’re disgusting,” she said. “I can’t believe that female goblins actually… well… whatever they do.”
Luti asked her, “Did you know your attackers?”
“Know them?” Chandra blinked. “They were goblins.”
“You never saw them before?”
“You’ve seen one, you’ve seen ’em all, I guess.”
“I wish you’d take this seriously, Chandra,” Luti said. “But if you don’t think they were personal enemies of yours, and considering we haven’t had a goblin attack here in many years… I think we can guess who sent them.”
“Who sent…” Chandra realized what she meant. “You mean the oufes? They can sure carry a grudge for little guys.”
“Yes,” Luti said. “Even though it was, of course, only a small portion of the forest.”
“No, no,” Samir said, sitting in Mother Luti’s private workshop in the monastery five days later. “Not all the woodlanders. There’s some ill feeling about the fire among other factions, of course, but it’s only the oufes who are calling for your execution, Chandra.”
Samir, who looked more harassed than usual, had made the trip up the mountain that day to update Mother Luti and Chandra on the situation in the Great Western Wood.
“Only the oufes,” Chandra repeated, shifting her position to stretch her sore leg. The claw wound was healing well, but it still ached a little.
Luti said, “I suppose we can regard that as good news.”
“Actually, it’s one particular tribe of oufes.” Samir added wearily, “A big tribe.”
“Presumably the tribe in whose territory the fire occurred?” Luti said.
“Yes. I’ve tried reasoning with them. To explain that Chandra was fighting a ghost warden who had invaded our lands to spy on us.” Samir sighed. “But you know what oufes are like.”
Luti said, “Not amenable to reason.”
“Not really.” He shrugged and added, “To them, the forest is sacred. What happened in the woods that day has offended them deeply. Imagine what the Keralians would do if some came in and set your monastery on fire… Okay, bad example, but you get what I mean.
“They insist that nothing less than Chandra’s death will atone for the destruction of the forest. They’re calling for her assassination.”
“We supposed so,” Luti said, “since as of now there have been three energetic attempts on Chandra’s life.”
Samir said, “And since those attempts failed, this morning the tribe increased the size of the reward they’re offering for her death.”
“What sort of reward do oufes offer?” Chandra said with a frown. “Most of the killers I’ve met aren’t so keen on pussy willow trees.”
“Well, I wouldn’t know what they are offering,” Samir said. “But you’ve seen the caliber of assassin they are attracting.”
“Thank goodness for small mercies,” Luti said dryly. “Even so, we must resolve this matter.”
Chandra said, “Maybe if I talked to them-”
“No,” said Luti and Samir in unison.
Chandra blinked.
Samir said more gently, “Oufes don’t leave the forest, so they certainly won’t come here. And if you entered the forest, my friend, there’s nothing I can say or do that would protect you from the tribe’s wrath. Not in their current frame of mind, anyway.”
“I can handle a little oufe wrath,” Chandra said dismissively.
“And burn down more of the forest?” Luti said. “No.”
“Mother Luti is right, Chandra,” said Samir. “While the tribe remains this angry, I feel sure that a confrontation would only worsen the situation. We don’t want that. Especially not at a time when cooperation between the monastery and the woodlanders is vital.”
“So what’s the solution?” Chandra said in frustration. “I just keep fighting off the assassins that come after me every day or two?”
“No, of course not,” Samir said. “We must find a way to resolve this matter peaceably. You mentioned there were other attacks?”
“Yes,” Luti said, “and you know about the goblins. But there was also a very large man with an axe outside the walls of the monastery. Luckily, he was more accustomed to chopping wood than people or he might have hurt Brannon.”
“Brannon was attacked?” Samir repeated, clearly horrified.
“Perhaps not intentionally, but he was with Chandra when the idiot tried to take her down. Then, most recently, an archer sent a few arrows from that rock outcropping near the west wall. Fortunately,” Luti said, “the archer had poor aim and lacked stealth, so he didn’t survive even until midday. But what next? How many attempts on her life must Chandra endure? And how long before someone else gets injured in one of these attacks? Or even killed?”
“That’s an excellent point,” Samir said with a nod. “I will appeal to the tribe on the basis of justice. If they persist in their quest for vengeance, they could be responsible for the death of an innocent person. Even a child!”
“Will that argument sway them?” Luti asked.
“Not immediately,” Samir admitted. “Empathy is not an oufe characteristic.”
Luti shook her head in exasperation. “Oufes. Even the smallest spark left unattended can make a fire.”
“Have patience for now,” Samir urged, “and give me time. I believe I can persuade them to call off these attacks. Oufes also tend to have short memories.”
Luti sighed, then nodded. “All right, Samir. I have faith in your leadership and your powers of persuasion. We will try to be patient. Meanwhile…” She frowned down at her folded hands.