Daughter of the Flames

by Marriott, Zoe

• ISBN13: 9780763637491
• ISBN10: 0763637491
• Format: Hardcover
• Copyright: 2009-02-10
• Publisher: Candlewick

Summary

Scarred and orphaned by enemy fire, 15-year-old Zira learns her true identityand fulfills her destiny, in this romantic fantasy adventure for young teens.368 pp.

Author Biography

Zoë Marriott made her debut with THE SWAN KINGDON. In DAUGHTER OF THE FLAMES, her second novel, she has created an equally strong heroine who fi ghts like a warrior and loves with all her heart. Zoë Marriott lives in England.

Excerpts

CHAPTER ONE
I never knew my mother's name.
I knew she was a hero. The first story Surya ever told me was of my mother and her death. How, gravely injured herself, she dragged me from the fire that consumed our home and carried me all the way from Aroha to the House of God in the mountains. How she refused any treatment for herself and died of her injuries, peacefully, only when she knew that I would live.
But she never told anyone her name. Only mine.
Zira.
The story was all I had of my family. Surya said that after the Sedorne came, slaughtering and burning their way across Ruan, so many families were scattered, so many homes destroyed, so many people murdered and abandoned to rot by the roadside, there was no way to trace my identity. I was alone in the world from that day - the day my mother died to save me.
I was lucky. Incredibly lucky. I always knew that. I could have been one of the poor orphan children dying of starvation or disease on the streets of Aroha. I could have been dead myself. Or I could have been living as a slave - in all but name - under some bloated Sedorne lord.
My childhood was not perfect - whose is? But I had a precious gift, one denied to so many children in our troubled country: a home. I cherished it and thanked God for it - until the day it was taken from me.
Sunlight sparked from the curved blade as it slashed downward. I shut my eyes hastily and twisted away, the soft hiss by my cheek telling me that the sword had almost found its target.
Half-blinded by sun shadows, I spun past my opponent and brought the flat of my sword down hard where instinct told me his hand would be. I was rewarded with a snarl and a juddering clash of metal as the blade skittered off his padded gauntlet; then I was turning again, the movement sweeping my short hair across my face.
Keep moving . . . keep moving. . . . I saw the dim shadow of his bulk to my right and feinted left, then snapped toward him, bringing the sword up in the half-crescent move. Metal screeched as our weapons slid together. I threw all my weight into my sword arm with a grunt of effort and wrenched upward. I felt the sudden release as the sword popped from his hand and I leaped back, eyes clearing just in time to see his blade flick up in a jagged arch against the sky, then plunge back into shadow as it landed in the dirt of the practice ring, raising a small puff of dust.
He gaped at his empty hand, then burst out laughing.
"Excellent, Zira!"
I lowered my sword and bowed, tugging my rumpled robe back into place. "Thank you, Deo."
"It was well done. Though I hope you realize that move was a dangerous one. It could just as easily have ended in your losing your own sword."
I shrugged, trying to keep my voice even as I replied. "But if it had been a real fight and you had blinded me, I would have been desperate enough to take the chance."
Deo loved it when I lost my temper. He grinned approvingly. The tattoo that curved over the ridge of his left eye and cheek - a stylized leaping wolf for his warrior status, surrounded by stars that symbolized his commitment to God - gleamed blue against his dark skin.
"It was a dirty trick, yes," he admitted. "Yet you coped, as always. We'll make a fighting namoa of you yet." He turned away to address the small huddle of young people gathered at the edge of the practice circle. "Did you all see that? Yes? Would anyone like to try it themselves?"
Most shook their heads vehemently. My irritation disappeared, and I had to cover my mouth to hide my smile. I didn't blame them.
He continued. "Well, perhaps something simpler then. Don't worry - I won't let her gut you."
As if that's what's worrying them, I thought.
Deo beckoned the children forward, and reluctantly they filed into the circle, arranging themselves in a ragged line before him. He clasped his hands behind his back and

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Excerpted from Daughter of the Flames by Zoë Marriott
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