A Plague of Giants (Seven Kennings #1) - Kevin Hearne Page 0,57

path you believe Thurik is blazing for us now. I found your earlier words interesting.”

“Which words, Hearthfire?”

“The ones regarding a wise use of our resources and the people of the First Kenning becoming first in civilization. You spoke aloud my wish for the Hathrim: not only to be first in our size or first in appetite but first in craft and culture. We have been wood-starved and resource-poor for so long that we could never hope—until now—to build a society equal with our stature. I have long held that the power of fire should allow us to shape and forge our own destinies as it shapes glass and metal, but fire needs fuel, and here we finally have enough of it to make a difference.”

She frowned, and her head tilted slightly. “Build a society? You speak as if you intend to stay here.”

“And why shouldn’t we? What better place for a new Hathrim city than here?”

She spoke with a tone of patient disbelief, as if I were some child. “This place belongs to Ghurana Nent. We cannot stay.”

“We most certainly can,” I growled. “There is only a piece of paper signed by our ancestors that defines where we can build and thrive. And it says we can only build in treeless wastes, where we most certainly will never thrive. Time to set that nonsense aflame.”

“That nonsense will have serious consequences if you flout it,” La Mastik said. “I cannot condone it.”

“I’m not asking for your approval. Or anyone else’s.”

“Clearly. But you’re putting all our lives in danger acting alone like this.”

“We won’t be alone for long. You’re from Tharsif, and so you must know that Winthir Kanek is a Hearthfire of my mind. That’s why he sent his daughter to marry my son.”

La Mastik’s brows drew together, and a corner of her mouth turned up. “Are you sure about that, Hearthfire? It’s true he may be in favor of expanding his territory, but I rather think sending his daughter to you announced his intention to expand into Harthrad next.”

My hand twitched toward my axe, and Sefir grabbed it and interlocked my fingers with hers, a seemingly loving gesture. Which it was. She saves me so often. “He’s welcome to expand into Harthrad now. It’s a lava flow covered with a thick frosting of ash. I think he’ll prefer to profit from the trade we can offer. The first shipment of lumber should do much to convince him. And if you wish to depart with that shipment, La Mastik, you’re welcome to do so.”

Her eyes narrowed. “A kind invitation, Hearthfire. But I’ll remain to minister to Olet Kanek and the good people of Harthrad who have no other spiritual guidance. I notice you have not tended Thurik’s Flame since I came to Harthrad.”

“The crush of responsibility prevents me. But never fear, I’ll make sure someone attends in my stead and pays rapt attention to your every word.”

“I have no doubt.”

“Speak all you want about rebuilding strong and well, La Mastik. But I hope we’ll hear no more from you about returning to Hathrir.”

That finally fueled some anger in her, and she pointed a scolding finger at me. “Thurik’s Flame is not subject to the governance of a Hearthfire. You cannot prevent me from speaking my mind.”

“You are quite correct. And you cannot prevent me from splitting your unprotected head with my axe.”

Her hand dropped, and she sneered at me. “Ah. So it’s a naked threat, then.”

“I dislike threats. They carry the implication that one might not follow through on them. Do spout what other fire you wish, La Mastik, but speak another word to my people about leaving here or one word against me and I promise you will be dead moments later, consequences be damned.”

Her eyes shifted to Sefir, searching for assistance, perhaps, or some sign that I was insincere. She would find no help there. When her eyes returned to me, she said, “I appreciate your candor, Hearthfire.”

“And I yours. We both want the best possible lives for these people. Let’s focus our efforts on making that happen.” I pointed a finger at the ground. “Here.”

When her thin lips pressed together she almost appeared to have no mouth at all, just an unbroken mask of skin beneath her nose. I waited for a retort, some blast of defiance, but she only nodded once.

“I’ll bid you good evening, then,” she said, and Halsten escorted her away. Sefir told him to wait a few minutes before bringing anyone else forward. Once