Page 115 of Phoenix's Fire

Drozel tossed up his tan arms, then flicked a tail that really did look much too familiar. The pattern wasn't exactly the same as the one hanging in the dining hall, but they said regrown tails weren't quite identical.

"You have turned down men with more weapon skills than she has," Drozel told Zasen. "You talk people out of the militia with more strength. Every time someone tries to join us, you give them ten reasons why it would be a bad idea. Well, I've got more than that for her. Ayla is not ready, and she should stay here!"

"But -" I tried.

He cut me off. "I owe you my life, so I'm not going to throw away yours."

"I'm the only one who understands them!" I insisted.

"She's right," Zasen said. Then he looked at me. "So is he. You're not strong enough yet, Ayla."

"Which is why we need someone to make bullets," I told him.

Drozel gave Zasen a long look. "You didn't tell her, did you." It wasn't a question.

"I'm looking at other options," Zasen said.

Which made Drozel grumble in the back of his throat. "Ayla, we can't make them. Our machinists took apart the bullets and there's a powder inside. It burns. They know how it works, and we have a general idea of what's in it, but no one can find the proper mixture."

"What?" I asked, looking at Zasen to be sure that was true. "But it's gunpowder."

"And we don't have guns anymore," he reminded me.

"But you have ancient books!" I insisted.

"Some. Many were destroyed. We know there was once nuclear power, but that has been lost. We know how to make wire, but not how to keep electricity from setting fires or how to make enough of it to be useful for anything. There are a lot of things we knowof, but the details were lost and now they are dangerous."

"And we don't need them," Drozel told me. "A bow kills a man just as dead as a bullet, Ayla."

"But bullets shoot faster," I told him. "They go further. They punch through things to hit the target."

"Which are all good reasons not to make them again," Drozel said gently. "Sometimes, Ayla, easier is not the same as better."

"And you have a lesson with Kanik," Zasen told me, pointing at the massive building beside us. "Go. I'll unstring your bow."

"Thank you," I breathed before jogging towards the library.

Yesterday had been my first time in here, but when I stepped inside today, it wasn't any less impressive. The building was many stories tall - maybe four - with an opening in the middle that let me see rows upon rows of books.

I kept going until I was in the middle of it, then paused to look up and take a deep breath. Books had a smell that was hard to describe. It reminded me a bit of that time it had rained, and I liked it. The smell of the paper, the leather bindings, and everything else made me feel peaceful in a way I couldn't describe.

"Ayla?"

The sound of my name made my head snap down and then around. Walking toward me was Saveah. There was a smile on her face that made me think she knew what I'd been doing.

"Mom used to do that too," she said. "She'd come in here and look all the way up."

"Really?"

Saveah nodded. "Yep. And we came here once a week to pick out new stories. Every night, she'd read a chapter to me so I'd fall asleep. I'd try to stay awake to get more, but it never seemed to work."

"Her voice was too soothing," I agreed. "And she didn't read stories to me, but she made them up. They were always about a world where the sun shined and people were kind. I thought it sounded like Heaven."

"Because it was for the two of you."

Together, we headed into the study room Kanik had claimed for us. There, he was already hard at work with Lessa, Brielle, and Meri. Pointing at one woman, he made her say a word, then he'd point at the next, and she'd have to use the other language for it.

"Good!" Kanik said in English. "That's exactly right, Meri."