The Spirit Binds

by D. K. Holmberg

  When he stepped out, he was both surprised and not surprised Master Minden was there.

  “Did you know I was coming?”

  “I could tell you were searching for me.”

  “I’ve searched for you before, but I haven’t been able to find you.”

  “You had a different urgency this time.”

  “What have you been doing?”

  “Trying to understand the device you discovered. Unfortunately…”

  “You can’t find anything.” She shook her head. “I might have. I think it’s about the Convergence.”

  “What was that?”

  He paused in front of one of the portraits. This had a dark cave, but that was the only thing he was able to really see. There seemed to be something else he should be able to determine, but as he looked at it, he wasn’t able to pick up on anything else. For some reason, it reminded him of the Convergence.

  That couldn’t be coincidental.

  “Ferrah has been convinced there’s a Convergence in Par. What if the reason that was attacked—and the other places—was because they each have a Convergence?”

  “That may be, Shaper Ethar, but you have to trust the Grand Master will investigate everything that needs to be investigated.”

  Tolan couldn’t help but shake his head. “He thinks this is the Draasin Lord.”

  “And you don’t?”

  He looked over, locking eyes with her. “I don’t think the Draasin Lord is exactly what we have believed.”

  She looked past him, cocking her head to the side. A shaping built from her, sweeping down.

  “I have to go. I can go to Par. I can see if I can find Ferrah, and —”

  “There is no going,” Master Minden said. She stopped in front of one of the portraits, nodding to it. “How do you think you could reach Par? It’s quite a way away, and even traveling along the Shapers Path will take many days.”

  Tolan studied the portrait. It depicted a tower rising up above a landscape. Behind the tower circled what could be construed as a bird, but he knew better. A draasin.

  Was that what it looked like in Par?

  He’d never been there, and though Ferrah had wanted to show him, they hadn’t had the opportunity. Now was going to be his opportunity. He would do it for her. To see if there was any way to help her. To rescue her. And if he couldn’t, then he would have to wait and see what the soldiers might be able to do. Somehow, they would have to save her.

  “I need to go and see if there’s anything I can do to help.”

  “Shaper Ethar, you are a third-level student. You are given more freedom because of that, but…”

  Why was she saying this? She understood how important Ferrah was to him, and she knew everything he’d been involved in. More than that, she understood his connection to the elementals—and perhaps even to the Convergence.

  He frowned, realizing the shaping building from her was a hint of spirit mixed with wind.

  He mimicked the shaping. As he did, he became aware of something else. Words were drifting toward him, her voice. It reminded him somewhat of how he communicated with the elementals when he was able to do so, the way he could hear their voices deep inside his mind.

  “It’s dangerous for you to be here now,” she was saying.

  “Master Minden?”

  “Listen,” she said. “With the attacks, the Council sent not only the soldiers, but Inquisitors who were felt to be loyal were sent.”

  “What if they aren’t loyal?”

  “They have all been tested and have passed.”

  “What if they have somehow slipped through?”

  The more he thought about it, the more uncertain he was. He didn’t like the idea the Grand Inquisitor was somehow involved, but at the same time, she’d been the one who had sent him back to Amitan, hadn’t she? It was because of her he’d been attacked. Without her, what would he have experienced?

  Then she was also in Par.

  That might only be a coincidence, but what if it was not?

  And given everything the Academy had been through, the role of the Inquisitors, he wondered if the Grand Master would even investigate.

  “Let me go and see if I can’t figure out what happened.”

  She turned to him, looking at him with her rheumy eyes. “It’s more than you figuring out what happened. You need to do what you can to protect the Academy.”

  Images suddenly surged into his mind, and as they did, he thought he understood. Within those images, scenes of revolt flashed into his mind. He didn’t recognize the cities, at least not with any obvious sense, but they seemed to be all within Terndahl.

  Soldiers were there in each of them, putting down the revolt.

  “Shapers have begun to revolt. This is more than just the Draasin Lord.”

  “Let me find my friend. See if it is about the Convergence.”

  She watched him a moment, and he wondered what she might say.

  With a deep breath, she nodded. “The shaping you used to reach us in the first place. It comes from the ancient warriors. I didn’t expect you would know it, but perhaps it came to you in a time of need. When you were failing, I wondered if you discovered it when it was necessary. Either way, it brought you here. Now it must bring you away.”

  They reached a stair along the back of the hall. It led up, away from the rest of the Academy. Tolan studied it, tracing his way along the staircase, feeling it without the need to walk up. It would bring him back outside, up to the top of the tower, and from there he could reach the Shapers Path.

  But if she was right, then it wasn’t the Shapers Path he needed to reach. It was another way.

  At the top of the stair, Master Minden opened the door, revealing bright daylight. He took a deep breath, breathing in the awareness of the city. Taking the Shapers Path wouldn’t work anyway. Soldiers would be aware of his travel, but if this other shaping worked for him, then there would be a way to travel without anyone else knowing.

  “Where do I go now? How will I find her?”

  “I wish I could tell you where you needed to go to find her, but you must find that on your own. You have a unique perspective. Your understanding and willingness to work with the elementals has proven that. Far too many people see the elementals as a threat, and they fear them, though they should not. They blame the Draasin Lord and fail to realize there is real power in connecting to the elementals. They fail to see attempting to secure the element bonds has damaged the world in other ways.”

  “I’m not sure I know this shaping.”

  “There is a particular pattern to it. If you can find it within yourself and grasp the connections between the shaping, you should be able to use it. When you do, you will no longer need the Shapers Path.” She looked over at him, and for a moment her eyes seemed to clear again. “You remember how you attached the elements together?”

  Tolan thought back to that time. It had been little more than a blur, but he thought he did remember. He’d mixed all of the elements, and then he added spirit. “It’s the connection. Spirit.”

  “Exactly. It grants you something greater.”

  “And if it doesn’t work?”

  “Then you have lost nothing. You can try the Shapers Path, but you have to get past the soldiers. If it works, and if you gain control over it, you will begin your way down a road the world has not seen in a long time.”

  “What is that?”

  “Long ago, we had a particular term for such shapers, though I feel as if it were something of a misnomer. The language has changed and evolved, and much like I’ve said, because of that, there is much that’s different.”

  “You still haven’t told me the name.”

  “I suppose I haven’t. Many would refer to them as warriors.”

  “What sort of warriors? I’m not much of a fighter.”

  “You don’t have to be much of a fighter in order to be this kind of warrior. The ancient warriors, the kind preceding all of us, used a combination of
the elemental energies to help them fight. They used swords, the same way as the soldiers today now use them, though there was something special to those blades. With them, they were able to draw even more strength from the elements and from the elementals.”

  “Like bondars?”

  “Something like that,” she said. “It’s because of those blades they became more—much more. They knew shapings we did not. They had control over the elements we do not. And you demonstrated a shaping not seen for a long time.”

  “But you recognized that shaping.”

  “I did, but I doubt anyone else would have.”

  She paused, and Tolan looked over at her. “How is it you know these things?”

  “Is that really the question you want to be asking?”

  “I think it’s the question I need to be asking. How is it you know so many things others don’t?”

  “The service to the archives has taught me many things. Because in my time here, the time I have spent studying, I have come to gain knowledge few others have.”

  Tolan watched her, wishing for a different answer, but he had a sense that even if there was one, she wouldn’t share it with him. “What do I do now?”

  “Now you must find a way to recreate that shaping. You must decide if you can be something more—something greater. If you head to Par, and if you confront what is out there, you may be putting yourself down the path toward becoming an ancient warrior.”

  He’d thought he was heading down the pathway toward becoming a librarian so he could learn from Master Minden, but that wasn’t the case. And then he thought the Grand Inquisitor thought he might be able to train with the Inquisitors, but what if he was going to be something else entirely?

  When Master Minden stepped back, Tolan focused on the shaping. He remembered it, though it came to him faintly. It was a distant sort of memory, vague. Faded. Mixed with his fatigue from that time and the pain, and everything else he’d experienced.

  The power of that shaping filled him, the knowledge of it right there. All Tolan needed to do was disseminate the elements and mix them in a specific pattern. Fire summoned the lightning. Earth was the connection, binding it from place to place. Wind stirred up the power needed, and water in a storm cloud he needed to travel upon. On top of all of that, he needed a mixture of spirit, binding it together.

  What had he done the last time?

  That came to him easier than anything else. He had fixed the library in mind, and in doing so, he’d transported himself on the lightning. It had swallowed him, engulfing him, and carried him.

  Where was he going to go in Par?

  The only place he thought he could go. It was a place he’d seen in the hall of portraits.

  He focused on it, holding that image in mind, and let the shaping wash over him.

  It happened faster than the last time, and he was much more aware of the nature of it and how the lightning streaked down, exploding from the sky. When it did, he tensed, fearful of what would happen when the bolt struck him, but much like the last time, the lightning seemed to wrap around him, swallowing him, lifting him into the sky.

  With a flash, followed by a clap of thunder, he was gone.

  15

  When the lightning cleared, Tolan looked around. He stood on top of an enormous tower. Gray sky swirled around him, darkness mixed within, and thunder rumbled, though he wasn’t sure whether that thunder came from what he’d just shaped or from the threat of a new storm. Energy crackled through him, almost as if the shaping refreshed him rather than required his strength. It was a strange sort of shaping requiring each of the elements—including spirit—and yet it had not taken considerable effort on his part.

  His vision returned slowly. There had to be some way to create that shaping so it wouldn’t destroy his vision, so the brightness wouldn’t overwhelm him.

  Wind whipped toward him. It had a hint of salt in the air, a strange odor, that of moisture and mustiness, but it was mixed with that of fish far below.

  Par.

  Somewhere here, he’d find Ferrah.

  Not just Ferrah, but he’d find whatever had occurred here. He needed to find her first, though. He also needed to see if the Grand Inquisitor was somehow involved. Tolan hoped she was not, but a part of him worried if she were, what would he do? Would there be anything that could be done?

  The city of Par was interesting. It was an old city that had been built upon. There was evidence of age everywhere, even more so than in places like Ephra, where the city itself was considerably old. Unlike Ephra, Par had been maintained, shapings having secured the city in ways they had never taken the time to do in Ephra. The tower here was an example of that. It was incredibly old. Tolan could feel that age, could tell how time had passed, how that filled everything. Despite that, the stone remained solid, bound together by earth shapings and perhaps something more.

  He pushed down with a shaping of earth, stretching deep beneath him, using the connection to the stone. As he did, he searched for anything that would trigger understanding. There came a familiar sort of sense reminding him of the Academy. Within the stone was a rune.

  Tolan smiled to himself. Did the people of Par know they had a rune in their tower? It would be hard for them not to, but even knowing they did, would they have been able to use it?

  Could he?

  Tolan pushed, letting his power flow out, heading into that rune. He could use it if he could find some way to tap into that power. And if he could use it, he had to think there was something more within it that he could do. He wanted to search for shapers, and with the power of a rune like this, Tolan thought he might be able to do so. He could add water, mixing with it, and perhaps a hint of spirit.

  The shaping flowed away from him. Standing atop the tower as he was, he detected considerable strength within it. It surged down the tower, roiling along the surface of it, striking the rune, where it gained more strength. Tolan didn’t have enough access to water and spirit to complement it, leaving earth as the predominant element in this shaping.

  That was a mistake. There needed to be another way to drag that power forward.

  Tolan focused on the energy beneath him, thinking about whether he could somehow reach for the power within the earth rune and withdraw some of it, but that wasn’t the answer at all. What he needed was to draw upon water and spirit in equal portions.

  There was the rune at the Academy, but it was too far away. He hurriedly dragged his foot across the stone, forming a rune for water, and then followed it with a rune for spirit. He pushed through those, wondering whether or not he would be able to use them in the same way. They added a certain bit of strength, and for a moment, Tolan thought he might have made a mistake and the power would bounce back at him, but then he flowed through it, surging. In doing so, he was able to send that shaping outward.

  It washed over the city.

  Dozens upon dozens of reverberations struck him.

  There were hundreds. Possibly a thousand. All of them represented shapers, which meant he needed to be careful. If there were shapers here who wanted to harm him, then he’d need to be cautious, but at the same time, would there be any way to detect the two shapers he wanted to find?

  He might not know how to find the shaping academy in Par, but he’d been around Ferrah enough that he should be able to detect her shaping and recognize her unique signature. And the Grand Inquisitor.

  Tolan stood at the edge of the tower, looking down at the city. Most of the buildings were incredibly old, though there were many newer, most of those on the fringes, working around the older portion of the city. The older buildings all were made of stone, power radiating from them, either shaped power or somehow trapped within it. As he focused on it, he couldn’t help but think something within those buildings had secured them in a certain way. It was almost as if they had runes on them, trapping power, but that didn’t seem quite right.

  He should have taken the time to study Par. He’d known a little bit about it,
but not nearly enough to get a better understanding of what the people of Par found important. Ferrah didn’t talk about it, other than telling him about some of the strange languages found here. There had to be a place of Convergence here, which was the reason she’d gone to the Academy to study, thinking she could get discover it and use that knowledge to understand the secrets of the past.

  In the distance, the slight translucent appearance of Shapers Paths caught his attention. There were several of them, each of them crossing over top of the city, practically glistening in the air. Moisture clung to them, and Tolan was tempted to shape himself up to one of them, but there were others making their way along them, and he didn’t want to draw the wrong kind of attention to himself. Until he knew whether the shapers had already arrived or whether there was any danger from the Academy here, he would stay hidden.

  What he wanted was to find Ferrah.

  If only he had some way of communicating with her. He had spirit. Having been with Master Minden, he wondered if there was a way to connect to spirit with her the same way Master Minden had done with him. It might not be possible. Master Minden had connected to him because they both had shared a connection to spirit, and as far as he knew, Ferrah didn’t.

  Could he identify her shaping in another way?

  He focused on the elements of the city. He listened to the way water surged, crashing along some distant shore, the wind swirling around him, noticing the patterns to it, the feeling of the earth, ancient buildings mixed with a steadfast and powerful rock, and finally the heat, however mild it might be, of this place. Par was a place of ancient power.

  Tolan breathed it all in, using that to help him connect to the energy of the city. He’d spent so much time above Amitan doing the same thing, it came to him easily. In doing so, it opened him to recognizing the powers around him, the shaping energy he could detect. As it did, he focused on it.

  A shaping built that he recognized.

  It was not far away, and Tolan used a burst of fire and wind, throwing himself from the tower, shaping along the street and dropping down to the ground. When he did, he found himself in an alley, hidden away from others. He made his way slowly, carefully, hesitating so he didn’t reveal himself too quickly.