Page 26 of The Iron Hex

16

Rhona

Rhona was shaken awake in her uncomfortable cot by a cold metal hand. Her eyes blearily cracked open; the light of the sun was not permeating the dark room—it was still night. Adrenaline rushed through her in an instant. What was going on?

“Sir Rhona,” the soldier who woke her said. “There’s been a fire at several of the noble manors, it’s all hands on deck.”

Rhona jumped up, still groggy from sleep but she shook it off. This was serious. “Where am I heading?” she said as she strode to where her armor sat in the tiny room’s corner.

“The Heathecote residence,” he said quickly before turning abruptly and heading out. “Sir Rhona... we don’t know who did this, or why—be cautious.”

Rhona dressed in her leathers at the speed of light. Full plate was always ideal when on official business, but with a fire, time and speed were of the essence. She needed to make sure she got everyone out of the home if they hadn’t already evacuated. She weighed her options. The Heathecote manor was a two-minute ride on horseback from the barracks, or a five-minute sprint. Itwould take ten minutes to get to the stables and saddle a horse. She ran.

The air was thick with fog and smoke, obscuring much of what she’d normally be able to see in the dark of the night. She heard soldiers barking orders to fire wardens. Rhona remembered a time when fires were less threatening because any witch with water elemental abilities could summon the water to put it out. Now they had crafted a new method of carrying water that took much longer, leaving fires to rage dangerously. It was an unfortunate side effect of making sure the dangerous nature of witches didn’t put the people of Astra at risk, but even Rhona had to admit that water summoning had been useful.

Who had done this? Strange things had been happening throughout Astra for the past year. Complete crops dying, once-fresh water turning to poison, but fires? That seemed like a step past sabotaging farmers’ fields. It seemed deliberate, almost deadly, like someone was very unhappy with the Iron Empire’s most powerful people.

Rhona thought back to the room where they’d planned the uprising as she ran. Fire had always been an option on the table, but Lord General Kerrigan had insisted on it only being used as a last resort. If therewerenew rebels, they were more vicious than her crew had ever been. She definitely needed to talk to the lord general about it.

Rhona ran into the courtyard of the Heathecote manor and saw that, thankfully, only one wing of the home had been consumed by fire. There were half a dozen people already outside the manor in their sleepwear.

“A guard!” one woman bundled in a singed silk robe shouted, and they all turned their heads toward Rhona.

“Sir Rhona,” Rhona said, saluting her hand to the embossed leather sigil on her chest. “Is there anyone else in the building?”

“My eldest daughter,” Lord Heathecote said as he echoedRhona’s salute. “She is a very deep sleeper, but we did expect her to have come out by now. We’re worried. I was about to run back in to get her.”

“No need,” Rhona said. “That’s what I’m here for. Exit the courtyard and keep a clear distance from the home. Fire wardens will be here with water as soon as they can.”

She ran into the home without another word. Most noble manors had a similar layout, so Rhona knew her safest bet was to check the wing with the family’s chambers first, and then she’d expand her search if need be. Hopefully Lady Heathecote was simply in such a deep sleep that she didn’t hear the commotion; otherwise there could be something very, very wrong.

Rhona barreled up the stairs two at a time and into the wing that housed the family’s private chambers, which thankfully was very far from the fire. There were eight rooms, and six open doors. Rhona kicked open the closest door to find an empty room. No bed, no furniture, just an empty space. She moved to the next and kicked open that door.

The room was beautifully adorned, with dark purple walls and a canopy bed. The logs in the fireplace were still burning, and a deep mahogany writing desk sat by the window. Lady Heathecote had clearly brought tropical plants from the south into her space, luscious and green exotic plants filling every spare inch of the room. What took Rhona’s breath away, however, was how Lady Heathecote was sat, dressed in her pajamas, in a wingback chair... staring right at her.

“It took you longer to get here than I expected.”

Witch.Rhona knew she’d been right.

“And how would you know it was me coming for you?” Rhona asked.

“You already know,” Lady Heathecote said, her dark lips smirking.

“Andyouknow witchcraft of your kind is forbidden, right?” Rhona snarled.

“You caught on quicker than I thought,” Lady Maeve retorted, rolling her eyes. “Of course I know. How do you think I’ve hidden it for so long?”

So, she had strategically exposed herself to Rhona, meaning she... knew that Rhona wasn’t going to do anything? Rhona’s head started spinning, trying to understand how a seer’s magic worked.

“I could arrest you here and now for committing an illegal act,” Rhona retorted, saying the first thing she could think of. Shewouldis what she should have said. But... Lady Heathecote was so beautiful and kind, and would condemning someone who used her abilities to make sure Rhona saved someone really be the right thing to do? Lady Maeve had only used her abilities to warn Rhona that Lord Wilmer was going to fall to his death. Was that truly evil?

But she’s a witch—her abilities are dangerous anddark, the loudest part of her mind spoke.Yes, and that doesn’t make her evil, a quieter part responded.

“You won’t,” Lady Heathecote said. “At least, you won’t tonight.”

“So youarea seer?” Rhona pushed, wanting her to confess out loud. “Does your whole family know?”

“No one knows,” Lady Heathecote said, her dark skin shining in the warm golden light of the fire. That seemed impossible, and almost like Lady Heathecote was lying to Rhona to protect someone else. But that was the least of Rhona’s worries right now.