cloud9: enjoy the next chapter :-)

Yazmari: glad you're still enjoying the story :-)

Duck8: glad you're enjoying the story, i'd better put a disclaimer on this story, lol

Skywolf: yep, suspense is an excellent torture method

Jessi: glad you like the healer. i figured Baird had retired from being court healer by now, so went out on a limb on what the new guy might be like.

Bambolieblue: Kyra appears today, lol

Disclaimer: the characters mostly aren't mine, except for Serrina, Lasha andKyra. all the rest are owned by the lovely Tamora Pierce. Long live Tamora!

Kyra of Conte: Chapter 7

A faint, jaunty song was hummed fromSerrina's lips as she gathered her grip again on Amara's reins, giving the mare more rein as the steep road rose before them, topped by a sunset as vibrant as a meadow of roses and daffodils.

"A beggar joined the soldiers," someone sang softly as Serrina hummed, "and he tried to shoot a bow, he flung it down and cursed the Crown, then went back on the road..."

Serrina shut up humming, cross.

"You know the tune, but not the words," Alanna said frankly, bringing her handsome gelding up alongside Serrina's sweet mare. "Did your father decide he didn't want his children knowing bawdy, rude songs?"

"Lasha threatened to disown me if I tried learning the words," Serrina replied: she even forced a smile.

"I'm sorry about your twin," Alanna said genuinely.

Serrina nodded. "So am I."

With that, she forced her head up, concentrated on Conte's silence. A silent land with few inhabitants. People had drifted away from here, unnerved by something.

What could have unnerved them? Serrina wondered: she listened and could hear nothing but a 'hush, hush' whispering through scarecrow trees dressed in ragged husks of autumn leaves. She raised her eyes, saw the rosy autumn sunset hazed by an odd mist. She sniffed then sneezed as a sour, smoky smell wafted to her nose. Amara danced as Serrina jerked back on the reins, startled.

"What!" Alanna yelled, annoyed.

Serrina kicked Amara's sides, urged the mare onwards, up the road.

Nearer, themist became greyer: real smoke. Fire!

She urged Amara on faster.

Wide-eyed, snorting widely, Amara gingerly obeyed.

She could hear the crackling of a building...

The road dipped abruptly...she was virtually blind...she couldn't even slow down!

"Yah!" Serrina threw herself low in the saddle, frantically shucked Amara's reins as a low fence rose into view.

Startled, Amarasoared overthe fence. Serrina gasped, frantically adjusting her grip on the reins, as Amaracontinued galloping on scrambling hooves.

Flames are an indescribable sound: a roar devoid of notes, a blanket of noise. The sunset was put to shame by the twisting, rising flames. The flames topped the tower where Kyra dwelled.

A lone, ragged banner hung, mauled by flames and battered by the wind.

"Kyra!" Serrina was shouting as Amara galloped harder across hard, stony soil.

"Kyra!" Serrina yelled, as Amara drew to a halt: Serrina swung herself to the ground and took off towards the house.

A white handkerchief drifted amongst a cloud of ash, thrown from a window. Serrina watched it, memorised which window it was, then plunged deeper into the black smoke, kicked a door open: it crashed down and she was in: she tore a strip of material from her new shirt.

"Kyra!" Serrina yowled, storming up the stairs, clamping the rag to her nose.

A door clattered, loud even amongst the roar of the flames.

Serrina ran faster up the stone stairs: hangings and carpets were nothing but flame.

A roar of fire.

"Kyra!"

Fire fled down the stairs, away from a small, blackened figure.

"Hello, Kyra," Serrina said, went up, grabbed Kyra's hand.

Kyra obediently followed Serrina downstairs, through the burning wreckage.

"Hello, Serrina," Kyra said as they emerged out into the dramatically colder air. They both gulped that cold air hungrily: Serrina flung down the rag she'd been breathing through, raised her head and swallowed another lungful of the icy air, shutting her eyes blissfully.

"Clever," Alanna guided her angry gelding on foot. "How clever of you, Serrina, to go into a building that could collapse. Are you forgetting the lovely experience of me digging maggots out of your belly?"

"Sir Lady Alanna," Serrina ignored how mad Alanna was. "May I introduce you to Lady Kyra Samara of Conte."

Kyra lifted her green eyes to Alanna's: "Good morning, I'm sorry my home can't entertain you." She flicked apologetic eyes to the burning wreck of her home.

"How did it happen?" Alanna demanded, outraged.

"I suppose it was Mother," Kyra said absently. "She did seem very bad this month."

Serrina gave Alanna a furtive look, silently begging Alanna not to ask anything about Kyra's mother: there just wasn't any point.

"We'd better pitch camp somewhere," someone said finally, as the rest of their party came into view: panting soldiers, forced to lead their horses through gates and down more roads.

Kyra guided them to a neighbouring meadow: she didn't say anything about her home, she didn't ask why Alanna and the soldiers had come. She just sat cross-legged at the rim of the small forest of scarecrow trees, and watched her home burn.