“I went to find out if there was in any danger in the way you’d been shaping, and he took it the wrong way.”
Tolan shook his head. “And because of what he described, you decided to research more about it?”
“I was curious.”
“If he finds out what you’re doing, he’s going to think you intend to try this.”
Ferrah glanced down at the book, grabbing it and pulling it toward her. “That’s just the thing. Everything I can tell suggests those who did this were not necessarily trying to shape themselves so they could have more power.”
“Why would they have done it to themselves?”
“I don’t really know. It’s difficult to read. The language is dead, and while a couple of the librarians might still be able to read it, I’m stuck trying to decipher it.”
“You can decipher a dead language?”
“Not really,” Ferrah said, smiling at him. “I was mostly looking at the pictures.”
Tolan blinked before laughing and realized he was too loud. He clapped his hand over his mouth and shook his head. “What can you tell from this?”
“Mostly, they seem to be doing it in service to fire.” She flipped a few pages and there was a picture of a man kneeling in front of the sun, hands stretched up to the sky. It was drawn in such a way as to show flames around the man, and it seemed as if he was calling upon them. “If you look at how they worshipped fire, it seemed as if they welcomed that power, but I don’t know if they were welcoming it because they wanted power or if there was something more to it. The ancient shapers were different than us.”
“Some think they were more ignorant than us.”
“Maybe in some ways, but in others, they might have known power differently. They lived in a time when the elementals were still free. I think there are things we could learn from the elementals, if only we were willing to do so.”
Tolan frowned. That was the first time he had heard her make a comment like that.
“I’d be careful making comments like that,” he said.
“Why? There’s no harm in commenting on how the elementals grant a very different type of understanding of power. And it’s not like it’s untrue.”
Tolan reached for the book, and Ferrah let him take it. He flipped through the pages, and though he couldn’t read anything written there, the images were enough for him to grasp what she was saying. It was almost as if whoever had written this had known there would come a time when the language would be gone and the images would need to carry part of the story. On each page, there were depictions of shapers—and they had to be shapers with the way the flames were drawn around them, swirling as if to gain more and more power. On some pages, the flames surrounded the man—or woman. On others, the flames were off in the distance, as if something they were searching for. On almost all pages, there seemed to be a reverence for fire.
“I think they were worshiping fire.”
Ferrah nodded. “That was my thought, too, but it’s such a strange thing to believe. Do you think there are stories of others who worship water or earth or wind the same way they worshipped fire?”
“I don’t know. Is that why you have the stack of books?” Reaching for the books she had at the corner of the table, he sorted through them, but none of them seemed to be the same as this book. He closed the book on fire, looking at the cover. It was plain. It seemed to be made of a thick, almost black leather, and a symbol had been stamped into the surface, though he couldn’t decipher whether it was one of the runes for fire or not.
“These are a little different. I thought I’d look into various ways of protecting oneself.”
“How did you justify that with the librarian?”
“With Master Jensen, it’s pretty easy. He knows I have an interest in this sort of thing.”
Tolan glanced up at the master librarian sitting at the dais. He had barely looked up when Tolan entered and kept his gaze focused on his work. As far as Tolan knew, most of the master librarians had things they researched, and he always saw them working while they were here. He had yet to figure out what they worked on, or what they did with their research.
“Did you uncover anything?”
“Not yet. I’ve found there are others who’ve done shapings like the one you described, wrapping one around themselves to protect from spirit.”
“See?”
“None of them has reportedly been successful.”
“It worked, Ferrah.”
“I believe it worked, but the question is why? And if it worked, we must wonder if it causes any danger to you. We don’t know. Which is part of the reason we need to be careful.”
“I practiced with it while in the Inquisition, and knew it wasn’t going to cause any harm to me.”
“You knew? Come on, Tolan. You probably wished you had your furios with you in order to make it even stronger.”
“Well…”
She shook her head. “I’m glad you haven’t made a big deal about them.”
“Jonas thinks I should return to the spirit tower to reclaim them.”
“That’s if they’re even still there,” she said, turning her attention back to the book.
“Why wouldn’t they still be there?” He’d dropped them during the chaos, when Aela had chased him from the spirit tower, which suggested they would still be there—but then again, it had been over a week, long enough that they might not be. If the Grand Master—or the Grand Inquisitor—went to the spirit tower to try to understand what had happened with Aela, they might’ve uncovered the bondars and taken them for themselves.
He was as concerned about the furios as he was about the golan that he had found in Ephra and believed his parents had made. That was one that he thought he could use to help him understand the making of bondars.
“If she knew what they were, the chances are good she’d have grabbed them, wouldn’t she? When she attacked you, wasn’t she more powerful than you remembered?”
“She was,” he said, thinking back to that day. “And if she used my bondars against me…”
“They’re not your bondars.”
“They are more mine than they were hers.”
“Tolan…”
He shook his head and knew he wasn’t going to convince Ferrah of that. It didn’t really matter anyway.
“I don’t really want to go back to the tower to see.”
“You don’t have to go alone.”
“You’d be willing to go with me?”
She glanced up, smiling briefly. “Didn’t you tell me Jonas thought you should go after them?”
Tolan leaned back on the hard wooden chair, staring at the table for a moment. “Jonas said something else that made sense.”
“If you keep talking like that, you’re going to make me reevaluate my opinion of him.”
He chuckled. “He thinks I should go to the Grand Master and figure out what’s going on with the Inquisitors.”
Ferrah looked up, cupping her hands on top of the book. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“Why?”
“Because it will pull you into it more deeply.”
“I’m already pulled into it as deeply as I can be. I mean, they came after me and attacked me—and this was after they held me for an Inquisition!”
He realized his voice was starting to get too loud, and he looked up to see Master Jensen looking at him. He shook his head slightly and Tolan mouthed “Sorry” to him. There was something else he could do so he didn’t upset the master librarians, and he reached for wind, wrapping it around him and Ferrah as he had at the park.
“What did you do?” Ferrah asked.
“I shaped a barrier around us.”
“In the library?”
“That is where we are.”
“You shouldn’t be able to shape here at all.”
“I know they say we shouldn’t be able to shape here, but it’s less impossible than they would have us believe.”
Ferrah l
eaned toward him, her jaw clenched for a moment. “I’ve tried, Tolan. Ever since we first came to the Academy, I’ve tried to shape here, and I’ve never been able to do so. What’s the trick?”
“No trick. I just shaped.”
“Just like that?”
He nodded.
“Do you have a withering?”
“Do you still have the withering?”
She flushed. “No. I returned it so I didn’t upset Master Rorn. She said I could borrow it but seeing as how I can shape well enough without it, I didn’t want to have it outside of the Academy.”
“And you accused me of having a crutch.”
“That crutch helped me save you.”
“And I thank you.”
“You really don’t have a withering?”
“I’ve already told you I don’t have any bondars. I’m shaping on my own.” That wasn’t entirely true. He still had the bondar he’d found in his parents’ home, but the ring that allowed him to more easily reach spirit wasn’t all that useful for things like this. It might be a spirit bondar, but it still required a fair amount of strength on his part.
“You still shouldn’t be able to shape in the library. It’s sealed off, separating us from the bonds.”
“What if I don’t shape by accessing the element bonds?”
Ferrah looked at him, amusement shining in her eyes. “Tolan—everyone shapes by using the element bonds. That’s how it’s done.”
He hadn’t had this conversation with her before and hadn’t talked with her about the unique way he felt he shaped. And now he was here with her, he thought he owed it to her to tell her he didn’t think his shaping was the same as others’. “Everyone else might, but when it comes to shaping, I’ve begun to wonder if perhaps my shaping technique is different.”
“How would yours be different?”
“From what I can tell from books Master Jensen’s lent me, the old shapers used to connect to the elements directly.” And one of those books had been written by her ancestor, so he wondered if she suspected.
“And you think you have a way of shaping that’s more like the old shapers?”
“I don’t know. I—”
Ferrah cut him off with a laugh. “Of course, you do.”
“Why do I get the sense you’re making fun of me?”
“I’m not making fun of you. I’m just trying to get a sense of what you think you can do.”
“I can shape differently than you.”
She glanced at him. “I guess that’s true.”
“You guess? I’m holding onto a shaping of wind right now. I’m shaping in the library—a place you seem to believe it’s impossible to do so.”
“Fine. You’ve made your point.”
“Good. And I’d like you to tell me that I’m right.”
“You want me to tell you what?”
He smiled at her, leaning forward. “I’d like you tell me that I’m right.”
“You had better be careful.”
“Why? Maybe you should be careful. Otherwise I might shape—”
Ferrah reached toward him and Tolan sat back, letting the shaping dissipate. When he did, he glanced up at Master Jensen and had the sense that the master librarian was keeping an eye on him, even though he seemed to be looking down at his book. Maybe he was aware that Tolan was shaping.
He was prepared to say something more when he caught sight of a librarian on the upper level. Glancing up, he saw Master Minden, but she never came down.
Tolan turned his attention back to Master Jensen. “I’m going to talk with him for a moment.”
“Don’t say anything that’s going to upset him.”
“When have you ever known me to say something that might upset the librarians?”
“Maybe not the librarians, but you don’t seem to have any filters.”
“I don’t know if I should be offended by that or not.”
“Not. Very much not.”
Tolan got to his feet, made his way toward the master librarian, and approached the dais slowly, carefully. The master librarian was watching him. He was old like so many and had thinning hair. His librarian robe, a marker of station as much as any, was worn and tattered. As Tolan neared, he closed the book he was working on and slid it back.
“Shaper Ethar, to what do I owe this pleasure? Is there anything I can help you find?”
“Not a book this time, Master Jensen.”
“If not a book, then what do you think I can help you find? I am a master librarian, after all.”
“I was looking for Master Minden.”
“Is there a reason?”
“The two of us were working on a project, and—”
Master Jensen cut him off by raising his hand. “I’m sorry. If the two of you were working on a project, I cannot interfere.”
“I just wanted to know where she went. I haven’t seen her in a few days.”
Then again, he hadn’t tried to see her for a few days. He wasn’t about to tell Master Jensen that, though.
“I will share your concern with her. She can come and find you when she is ready to resume work on the project.”
“Master Jensen—”
The master frowned at him. “If there’s anything else?”
Tolan stared at him for a moment before shaking his head.
Master Jensen opened his book, looking down at it. “Good.”
With that, Tolan debated how hard to push, but knew pressing one of the master librarians would only cause trouble. They had been helpful to him over the time he’d been here and he didn’t want to upset them, particularly not Master Jensen, who could be fickle. He wanted access to the library and didn’t want to ruin that.
“If you could pass on the word,” he said.
Master Jensen nodded and said nothing else.
Tolan stopped at Ferrah’s table and leaned down. “I think I’m going to return to the rooms.”
“I’ll read a bit more before I return,” Ferrah said.
“Find me when you return?”
“You won’t find me?”
“I’ve always wanted to find you.”
She met his gaze, holding it for a moment, and then smiled. “I’ll find you.”
With that, Tolan headed out of the library, meandering toward the back, nodding to Wallace as he left. He paused at the main door and decided he wanted to try to find the Grand Master one more time. Even if he wasn’t there, Tolan was determined to attempt to reach him.
As he started, a flurry of movement at the opposite end of the hallway caught his attention. Tolan turned and could swear he saw Master Minden making her way along the hallway.
Hesitating, he debated where he should go first. Did he go to the Grand Master or did he try to reach Master Minden?
He had already attempted the Grand Master and seeing as how he wasn’t there even a little bit ago, he didn’t think that it mattered if he were to go and try to find him. But following Master Minden, finding out what had happened with her, had more value.
Tolan hurried down the hall and hoped he wouldn’t upset her by trailing after her.
10
He raced through the hallway after Master Minden. The halls in this section of the Academy were quiet, the walls mostly bare other than the occasional painting, and there were a few lanterns giving off enough light by which to see. There wasn’t much more than that.
He was surprised by just how fast she was able to make her way through the hallway. As he went, he found she was taking turn after turn, almost as if she was trying to evade him.
Tolan told himself if she decided to head down, as if to go beneath the tower, he would turn away. He wasn’t about to end up following her to the bowels of the earth and didn’t want to risk getting captured again. Instead, she continued to turn.
As he went, he started to question whether this was Master Minden at all? It was possible he was following nothing more than a shadow.
He paused, pulling on a shaping, using t
he earth to detect whether anyone had come through here. An earth sensing was enough to alert him to the fact that he hadn’t been making this up. There was someone here, and though the sensing was unable to tell him who, there was enough of a recent feel to it that he knew he wasn’t wrong.
Stairs headed up. This was a section of the Academy that he rarely entered. The students stuck to a few major parts of the building. There were the five major towers, each one representing the elements, and each with a teaching section, but also the instructors stayed there. There were some students who would stay in the tower and study with each of the instructors if they found they favored one element bond over another. Most were graduates of the Academy, and would study within the tower while trying to decide what to do next.
The main part of the Academy was only a few stories high, and it consisted of the Grand Master’s quarters along with the library, but he hadn’t seen much else within it. It sat in the middle of the towers, surrounded by the five different element towers, and deep beneath it was the Convergence. As he followed Master Minden—or whoever it was he was following—he couldn’t help but wonder if there was something more up here that he was missing.
Tolan continued up the stairs. He paused at one point, holding onto a slick wooden railing, focusing on earth and adding a hint of wind. If he could use the wind to help him determine whether there was someone up there, then perhaps he wouldn’t be surprised by someone coming through here. That was his fear. He didn’t want to be caught off-guard.
At the next landing, he paused. Looking around, he found it looked nothing like the lower landing. Whereas on the main level, everything was all decorative, an expanse of marble and smooth stone depicting the Academy’s prestige and age, this had narrower walls. There were paintings lining the hallway, and they looked incredibly old. Some looked to be fading, so old the paint was disappearing from the canvas, and despite knowing he should turn back, Tolan found himself standing in front of one of the paintings, staring at it.
There was something strange about it. It was more than the fact that it was fading as much as it was, but the man looking back at him had dark eyes, a square jaw, and long brown hair. There was a sense of power and purpose that the artist had managed to capture. Behind him, in the distance of the background, flames swept across the page. The paint had faded, leaving nothing but a residual, and he could tell someone had shaped the canvas in order to preserve it as long as possible.
The Wind Rages (Elemental Academy Book 4) Page 10