The Spirit Binds

by D. K. Holmberg

  As he walked, he focused on the shaping that had drawn him here. It was Ferrah’s shaping, and as far as he could tell, there was no danger in it.

  It didn’t mean there wasn’t a danger in the city. With what he’d experienced in Ephra, he didn’t know if they’d had a similar attack here. Maybe Par was remote enough that they hadn’t managed to reach it yet.

  Tolan found himself among a crowd of other people. The streets were busy and people wandered along them, heading into shops, making their way toward some of the wider streets, and there was only so far and so fast he could go before butting up against someone else.

  He had detected the sense of Ferrah, but now he was out here, he no longer knew if that was accurate or merely imagined. At this point, it could have been imagined.

  He continued to squeeze through the crowd, looking around, searching for anything to tell him where she might’ve gone.

  He came up with nothing.

  He paused at an intersection. Buildings rose up on either side, much taller and closer together than they were in Amitan. Most of them were made of a dark stone, and it seemed as if moisture seeped up along with the stone, leaving it damp.

  It was almost unpleasant, and yet, there was a familiarity to it.

  Tolan wondered why it would be. When he’d traveled with his parents, he didn’t recall coming to Par, though it seemed almost as if there should be some memory of being here.

  He turned a corner, and he detected a shaping again.

  It was behind him.

  How was he supposed to get back there? The crowd continued to push him forward. As he walked, he could feel the pressure of the crowd sending him along the road, as if it intended to guide him, and yet where was it going to take him?

  Holding onto the sense of the shaping, that power he suspected came from Ferrah, Tolan let the crowd push him until he reached another intersection. When it did, he turned off, heading along an alley. At the end of the alley, he turned back around, following not only the crowd, but also the sense of the power and shaping he detected.

  He paused again, looking around. Once more, it seemed as if Ferrah had moved, as if the shaping had drawn her deeper into the city.

  He paused near what had to be a tavern. Loud music and shouts radiated from inside the building, and he thought she might be in there, but there came no further sense of her shaping.

  When Tolan was about to turn again, he detected the shaping once more.

  It dragged him forward along the street, and he paused at the next intersection. Once more, it seemed as if the shaping had shifted, turning, somehow now behind him.

  That couldn’t be right. Why would it be behind him?

  Heading forward, he turned before finally looking up.

  When he did, his gaze drifted toward a much taller building. It had to be five stories tall, and surprisingly, it seemed as if many of the upper levels connected with neighboring buildings.

  Could it be what he was picking up on?

  Tolan followed the outline of the building, his gaze drifting along it, trailing to see if there was anything he might be able to make out. So far, he wasn’t able to see anything, but he intended to follow it.

  At one point, he thought he saw a rune on the building, and he began to shape before withdrawing. If he added power to the rune, someone who was attuned to it might know what he was doing. He didn’t want to reveal his presence quite yet.

  Turning another corner, another shaping struck, and this one made him stop in place. People behind him crashed into his back, sending him staggering forward until he shaped slightly, using earth to maintain his position so he didn’t get tossed over.

  The Grand Inquisitor.

  Tolan was certain that was what he detected, and he wasn’t surprised she’d have made it here so quickly. She would’ve followed the Shapers Path, and as far as he knew, it wouldn’t have taken her more than a day, certainly giving her the opportunity to reach the city before him.

  Another shaping followed hers, and then another. All of them were rapid, but there was something about the first one—the shaping he’d detected when he first picked up on her—that left him worried something had happened to her.

  It wasn’t his responsibility to protect the Grand Inquisitor, was it?

  And yet, if she was going through anything like what he’d already gone through, what choice did he have?

  From what he could tell, Ferrah was safe. She was up in some building, and though she was shaping regularly, she was unharmed.

  The same couldn’t be said about the Grand Inquisitor. She was shaping regularly, and there was power in each of her shapings, enough power it left him worried perhaps something had happened to her. Tolan trailed after it, wanting to make sure he didn’t get lost along the way, wanting to ensure he could still detect where Ferrah had gone.

  The other shaping continued to build. Tolan trailed after it. It was nearby and came one after another, all bursts of power, and all strangely familiar.

  It was the spirit used within those shapings that struck him as most familiar.

  Tolan began to ready his shaping. He grabbed his necklace, holding on to the ring. As he clutched it, he readied himself for the possibility he’d have to use spirit shapings.

  Turning a corner, he found an open plaza on the street. Carts lined either side of the street, and another row of them worked through the middle. The crowd continued through those carts, pressing together much more closely than Tolan thought he would be comfortable with. And yet, what choice did he have but to follow the crowd? That was where he detected the sense of the Grand Inquisitor, and that was where her shaping came from.

  It was spirit, the same kind of spirit shaping that had swiped at the attackers in Ephra. If she were under attack again, if this was something similar, he needed to help.

  There might not be a way to do so without revealing his presence.

  Another smattering of shapings occurred: earth, then fire, then water. Each one a blast of power and following each one was a moment of what appeared to be silence, an emptiness coming from the shaping after it faded. He worried what that might mean but continued to follow the sense of the shaping. It was moving along the street, somehow winding through the carts.

  What he needed to do was get above it, but could he do so and hide himself?

  There was a way to use earth to mask himself, but it might be better if he used wind. With the right kind of shaping, Tolan could take to the air. If he could twist it, inverting the shaping so it focused on him, it might hide him. In doing so, he would be forced to use another shaping to propel himself. It would reveal the shaping—whichever one he used, but he might be able to stay hidden as he traveled.

  Regardless of what he did, Tolan had to get out of the crowd. The people were smashing against him. Most of them were dressed in drab clothing, no sense of color or style, as was found in other places like Amitan. It was almost as if the people of Par preferred simpler colors. Every so often, he would come across someone wearing brighter colors seeming almost out of place.

  Tolan first focused on wind. As he did, he pressed up against one of the nearby storefronts. He wasn’t going to reveal himself too quickly. When he first disappeared, it would draw attention in a different way.

  The wind shaping built, steadily, but he was careful to pull it up from the ground rather than swirling it around him. As he did, he twisted it, focused downward. It whistled around him, but as far as he could tell, there was no further wind anywhere else out on the street. He was able to contain it, and he prevented anyone else from recognizing his wind shaping existed.

  Did it work?

  What he wanted was for the wind shaping to mask him and conceal his presence altogether, but Tolan wasn’t sure if he’d been successful. As he stood there, focusing on the wind, someone bounced off his shaping, shaking themselves before continuing along the street.

  Perhaps it had worked.

  Tolan held onto the shaping, keeping it invert
ed. In doing so, it masked that he was holding onto a shaping at all. There were ways someone would be able to detect it, but they would have to focus on him. They would have to somehow know he was here and search for him.

  As he prepared a fire shaping—he’d have more control over that than over many of the other elements—a dark-robed figure moved into view. Through the wind shaping, there was something of a haze. The figure strode forward, power radiating from them, and he detected the energy of their shaping.

  A soldier.

  The man was large, muscular, and rested one hand on his sword.

  If there was a soldier here, it meant he was heading in the right direction, but he would somehow have to get ahead of them.

  Tolan breathed out and then hurriedly pushed off with a shaping of fire.

  Maintaining the shaping of fire while pushing off on the wind was not quite as easy as he’d hoped. Despite being able to shape effectively, there was something about inverting his wind shaping that made it more difficult.

  Lifting into the air, he hovered, staying overhead as he surveyed the street level. He moved along it, shaping quickly, following the sense he had of the Grand Inquisitor. He continued to feel the steady shapings, the ongoing reverberations echoing against him. If he could reach her before something else happened, he thought…

  Something slammed into him.

  Tolan twisted, focused on whether there was anyone aware of him, but he couldn’t tell. His shaping held him in the air, and as far as he knew, the wind masked him. Someone must have recognized he was here.

  Tolan raced along the street, staying below the roofline. Another shaping slammed into him, but with the wind wrapped around him, it prevented him from getting injured the way he would have been if unprotected. It was a barrier of sorts, though wasn’t intended to be that.

  If he could hold onto it, he might be able to make it out of here.

  As another blow struck, he wondered if they were aware he was here, or whether the attacker was simply aware there was a shaping moving above the street level. It was possible his wind shaping had simply been detected, and not that they were trying to strike him.

  There came another surge of shaping, but this was down below. It was a series of spirit shapings, one after another, blast upon blast. As he turned a corner, he saw her.

  The Grand Inquisitor was down on the street, several shapers all around her.

  She was striking at them with spirit shapings, but they were bouncing off.

  Could he help?

  Another blow struck him, this one sending him slamming into the nearby building.

  Tolan twisted, holding onto his wind shaping. He added a hint of fire to it, twisting that inward as well. If nothing else, he wanted to have a protection around himself, a barrier and buffer so he didn’t end up crashing to the ground below.

  He shaped his way closer to the Grand Inquisitor. From here, he could practically feel the shaping she attempted. They were defensive. Each of them was attempting to swipe at the person below them, but none of them were effective.

  Was there any other way to do something to help?

  They were defending themselves against the Grand Inquisitor, but they didn’t know about Tolan.

  Drawing upon spirit, he turned toward the person nearest the Grand Inquisitor.

  It was an older man, with thin-framed glasses on his face. He was wearing a gray jacket. Tolan sent spirit across his mind, sweeping through. It bounced off a barrier.

  He pushed, squeezing his ring, drawing more power through the bondar, and found the shaping. Sliding up underneath it, he unraveled it, twisting it free and releasing his hold on it.

  The man stopped attacking the Grand Inquisitor. He turned to the others, and Tolan was preparing for the possibility he might need to drop to the ground to help the Grand Inquisitor when another shaping struck him.

  Tolan ignored it, shaping his way closer.

  This time, he focused on another of the attackers. There was a spirit shaping on their mind, much like there had been on the last, and he drew through the bondar, summoning power. As he did, it allowed him to free the mind of the attacker. It was much like the last one, and he was able to clear it.

  Two were free.

  The Grand Inquisitor seemed to realize something was changing, and though she didn’t look up, there was a probe of spirit. Tolan reached toward her, connecting with a hint of spirit, much like Master Minden had done when he’d been at the Academy.

  “I can help,” he said, communicating to her with spirit.

  “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “And you shouldn’t need my help.”

  Tolan focused on the next attacker and pushed harder, faster, sweeping free of the mental barrier, moving onto the next one and then the next one and then the next one. There were only a few remaining, and as he turned to help her again, a shaping struck.

  It slammed into him and he was thrown into a building.

  He spun around, focusing his energy on each of the elements, prepared for the possibility he might have to use the warrior shaping to transport him away, but stopped.

  The shaper across from him made his breath catch.

  “Ferrah?”

  16

  Ferrah looked at him with a blank expression, almost as if she wasn’t there. Her shaping built, a combination of wind and water, and it swirled together, an attack aimed for him. Tolan doubted he’d be able to withstand many more of those blows. Ferrah was a strong shaper and the emptiness within her eyes suggested she wasn’t going to hold back.

  “Ferrah. It’s me. Tolan.”

  The shaping unleashed, and Tolan did the only thing he could think of. He dropped to the ground.

  It missed, the shaping streaking over his head, and he shot back into the air, hurriedly shaping a combination of elements, drawing them together and adding spirit.

  As he did, he grabbed for Ferrah, wrapping his arms around her.

  As she struggled, Tolan held onto her, determined to keep her with him. As the lightning bolt connected, the shaping lifted him, carrying him away from Par, and carried her with him back to the Academy.

  He stood on the rooftop, stepping back from her. She still had a dazed expression on her face, and he swept toward her with spirit.

  As he did, he hesitated.

  When he’d used spirit on others, they’d been people he hadn’t known. If something had gone wrong—and considering the likelihood, given everything he’d done—he wouldn’t have felt quite as much remorse.

  This was Ferrah.

  If he did something that damaged her…

  “Ferrah,” he whispered.

  A shaping began to build from her. If he didn’t do anything, she’d continue to attack. He had ways of subduing her, and now he was back at the Academy, he thought he could use the runes themselves in order to confine her, but what he needed to do was keep her from continuing her aggression.

  Her shaping continued to build. Tolan couldn’t wait any longer.

  He pushed out, surrounding her with spirit, and began to push gently, slowly, down into her mind.

  As he did, he held onto the bondar, using the ring to connect him to the power of spirit, mostly so he had greater control. He wanted to ensure he had some way of protecting her safety and didn’t want to do anything to lead to her injury.

  Her shaping struck the spirit wall he’d created. As it did, he held firm.

  There came a flash of light, bright and white, and it was incredibly potent. He held onto it, ignoring everything else around him, focused only on Ferrah and what he could do to help her. It was possible he wouldn’t be able to do this without harming her, but he was determined to find some way. There had to be something he could do to clear her mind without damaging her.

  As he pushed inward, squeezing with the spirit shaping, he felt the resistance of the shaping placed upon her.

  It was far more subtle than the ones he’d detected at the Academy in Ephra. As he noticed that, he rea
lized something. Those shapings had been intentionally obvious. The only reason he was able to detect this shaping was because he knew Ferrah. Anyone else, and he might not have known.

  Tolan continued to push, working slowly, steadily, squeezing through her mind, drawing the shaping across her, everything in his being allowing him to do so. The power flowed out from him, and he worried he was doing too much, that he was somehow harming her. Despite everything he did, she remained silent.

  In some ways, that bothered him even more.

  Shouldn’t she cry out? Should there be some sort of reaction from her?

  Continuing to squeeze, drawing the shaping across her, he felt it press in on the spirit shaping.

  He hesitated. That forced the spirit shaping deeper into her mind.

  That wasn’t what he needed to do at all. He somehow had to unravel it. In doing so, then he might be able to free her. If he could do this to Ferrah, then maybe there was hope for others. Maybe Tanner had actually been spirit shaped, and there would be some way of saving him as well. Tolan hated the idea his friend had attacked him. If there was something to be done, some way of saving him, he’d do it.

  And it wasn’t only Tanner who needed help. It was anyone else who’d been shaped similarly. There weren’t enough spirit shapers remaining, and those who did were potentially compromised. It was possible even the Grand Inquisitor was compromised, though she had been fighting the others.

  Tolan shifted the nature of his shaping, sweeping it beneath what he detected, drawing it through her mind. As he did, he pulled. It came slowly, almost as if it were tearing free from her mind, and in doing so, he worried the shaping would be harmful to her.

  The longer he waited, the more likely there were going to be ongoing attacks from her. For her sake, she needed him to continue to try.

  Trying to sweep the shaping free of her mind didn’t seem to be working, and forcing it down didn’t seem to be working, but was there something else he could do?