Serpent of Fire

by D. K. Holmberg

  “I’ll see if she’s willing to come.”

  “I doubt you’ll have to ask more than once.”

  He let the comment drop as they emerged from the dungeons and stepped into the lower level of the palace. The halls were wide here and covered by tapestries. Lit shaper lanterns were staggered along the wall, casting their pure white light along the stone. Roine had once told him that the lower level of the palace had once served as the quarters for the warriors. It was where he had been housed when he first was raised to warrior level. Since learning that fact, Tan had wondered where Lacertin’s quarters had been. Roine had not offered, and Tan wondered if maybe Althem had expunged every sign of Lacertin from the palace.

  A wide stair at the end of the hall led up and out of the lower level. They started toward it, but Tan paused at an open door. The sharp voice inside was familiar.

  “Mother?” he asked from the doorway, looking into the room. The opening let into an antechamber, a long desk and a mirror the only things found on this side. A simple painting of trees and water, as if looking through a thick lens and made to appear as if both were swirling, hung along one of the walls. There was a shaper lantern inside here as well. Another door opened to the inner room. It was from there that he’d heard his mother’s voice.

  Zephra stepped into the doorway. Her gray eyes flickered from Tan to Amia. “Tannen. You’ve finally returned.”

  The tone was familiar and one that she’d taken with him often over the years. Since learning of his abilities, and of the fact that he could speak to all the elementals, he had finally managed not to stiffen at the sound of the edge to her voice. Well, mostly.

  “I’m Athan, Mother. Shouldn’t that grant me a little freedom to choose what I do?”

  Her eyes dropped to the dark ring he wore on his finger. In the time since Roine had named him Athan, he hadn’t grown any more comfortable wearing it, but at least he believed that he had a right to it. As Athan, he commanded the kingdoms’ shapers, though he would likely have similar authority as a warrior shaper, even if he never really trained in the university. More than the shapers, the position of Athan allowed him to speak with the king regent’s voice.

  “Yes. Athan. I’m afraid that Theondar found someone a little too much like him.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It’s supposed to mean nothing. You are much like Theondar, Tannen. Perhaps not quite so rash, but you feel that you must be responsible for everything. You have grown… capable,” she said that with a deliberate pause, as if the words were hard for her to admit, “but that is not the same as having the necessary wisdom to wield your abilities.”

  Tan bit back his amusement at the comment and how much it reminded him of how Sashari treated Asgar. Once, he might have grown annoyed or irritated, but it was easier knowing that it was his mother’s way of trying to keep him safe. She didn’t know any other way.

  “I’ll make certain to check with you next time before I go and do something rash,” he said.

  Amia covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her laughter.

  Tan gave her a sideways glance. If she said something to Zephra about his plan to meet with Incendin, he wouldn’t put it past his mother to devise a way to keep him contained in the kingdoms, even if that meant forcing him to serve in a way that he did not intend.

  “Theondar would see you now that you’ve returned,” Zephra said. “He’s had me working with the blasted barrier rather than scouting, as he knows I prefer. I’ve forced Vel to help, but he wants to return to Doma. So far, he’s remained, recognizing the need for the barrier, and how it might help, even in Doma.”

  How much longer until the barrier was complete? What would happen then? And if Vel brought knowledge of the barrier to Doma, would Elle help? Tan still didn’t know what effect the barrier had on the elementals, but creating isolation would not help them face Par-shon. “I intend to go to Roine. Is he…?”

  “Tannen.”

  Theondar—Roine, as he had been when Tan had first met him and still considered him—appeared behind Zephra. He wore a dark green jacket with heavy embroidery working along the sleeves. His once-peppered black hair had nearly grayed completely in the time since Tan had known him. His eyes looked weary and drawn, but there was a sharpness to them still. At least Tan knew who he’d heard his mother talking to.

  “Roine. I didn’t expect to find you here.”

  Theondar stepped past Zephra, touching her arm briefly as he did, and tilted his head at Tan. “You have news of the draasin?”

  “There is some news,” Tan said, glancing from his mother to Roine. Through the bond with Amia, he sensed amusement. Around Zephra, she was rarely amused. What did she know that he didn’t? “We found one of the hatchlings. Injured and nearly dead, but we managed to heal him.”

  Roine’s eyes narrowed. “We?”

  The way he asked told Tan that Roine already knew more than he let on. Tan needed to start using his spirit sensing much like Amia, but he hadn’t grown up a spirit senser as she had. It still took conscious thought to probe spirit. But he recognized the tone to Roine’s question.

  “You spoke to Cianna.”

  “I know nothing more than what my fire shaper has shared. She claims a master shaper saved an elemental using power that she can’t even explain.”

  Tan met his eyes. “I did what I needed to do, Roine. The draasin will be essential in the coming days.”

  “I don’t doubt that in the slightest,” Roine said. “I think you were right that we needed to bond them. I wish Cora hadn’t been chosen to bond the little one—” Roine raised his hand when Tan started to object. “I know there was no choice. But it would be better that the bonds be to shapers of the kingdoms. Whatever else you might think, Tan, my loyalty remains to the kingdoms. As should yours.”

  Tan took a soft breath and considered his response before saying anything. How could he explain to Roine where his loyalties were? Tan wanted the kingdoms to be safe, he wanted to protect those he cared about, but he recognized that he had been given his gifts with a different purpose. He could speak to the elementals. More than that, he could protect them. And the elementals didn’t care about borders or ancient grudges. They might be stronger in certain regions than others, but they respected the land itself, not man’s artificial borders. Tan didn’t understand why there were regional differences in the elementals—not yet—but that was part of what he needed to learn.

  “My loyalty is where it should be,” Tan answered.

  Roine nodded, as if convinced there was nothing else to worry about. “Good. Then I would hear about this master shaper. Who was he? I hear he has a healing ability not seen in the kingdoms in centuries.” Roine laughed quickly at his joke, cutting off at a sharp look from Zephra. “What did you have to do to save the draasin?”

  “Nothing more than call him back from the dead,” Tan said. It had been the most complicated shaping he had ever done. Without Amia’s help holding the spirit component, Tan didn’t think that he would have managed. As it was, he still wasn’t convinced that he’d done anything more special than choose a name for Asgar.

  “And the draasin?”

  “He is safe,” Tan answered.

  Roine peered around Tan and down the hall, as if expecting to find the draasin crawling down the halls of the palace. Roine had learned that Tan housed the draasin beneath the city—at least that secret had finally been shared—and had agreed that Tan had done what was best to keep the draasin from Par-shon. At least, now that Roine understood just what type of threat Par-shon presented. Before that, even Roine still had felt like Incendin was the real threat.

  “Good, what about—”

  Zephra cut him off. “You said there were two?”

  Tan turned to his mother. “We haven’t found the other. The draasin still search.”

  “Not Cianna, though,” Roine said. “She returned to the city and said her draasin needed to remain here to protect the little one.�
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  “She is here. The other remains missing. Roine, if Par-shon has the other draasin, then it’s urgent we find her. We don’t want to face a Utu Tonah strengthened by the draasin. If he bonds to the great fire elemental, he will become even stronger than we can manage.”

  Roine glanced at Zephra. Something passed between the two, some silent understanding, and then Roine turned back to Tan. “I trust that you’ll do whatever is needed to protect the kingdoms. That is your charge as Athan, Tan.”

  Tan hesitated. “Whatever I feel is needed?” That gave him more flexibility than he suspected Roine intended, but without reaching out to Incendin, there might not be a way to stop Par-shon. The Great Mother knew that without Incendin shapers helping the last time they had faced the Utu Tonah, they would have failed. Only with the arrival of Cora and the other Incendin shapers had they survived.

  Roine clapped him on the shoulder. “You don’t hide your plans nearly as well as you would like to think you do, Tan. I think that when I was your age, I was much the same. Too easy to read. Of course, Althem would always have known what I intended.” Roine glanced at Amia. “You think this is necessary?”

  “I trust that Tan knows what must be done,” she said. “I don’t have to like it.”

  Roine grunted. “In that we agree.” He stepped back toward Zephra and took a deep breath. “You will not do this alone, Tan. You are powerful and you have the backing of the elementals, but where I think you intend to go will be far more dangerous than anything you have ever done.”

  Tan doubted that was true. He had stood within the obsidian palace, he had stood before the Utu Tonah and known the power that he commanded, and he had gone to the testing room, where he would have died had he not demonstrated… whatever it was that he had demonstrated. Proof that he was bound to the elementals, perhaps. After that, visiting the Fire Fortress did not seem nearly as terrifying. The only difference was that he knew what he faced going in.

  “You’re not going to tell me I shouldn’t go?” he asked.

  Roine shook his head. “I don’t think it will work, but I understand that you feel it’s necessary. Even if you manage nothing more than obtaining a peace accord, I think that will be some success.”

  “We need more than that with Incendin, Roine. We need them as allies.”

  “Knowing what they are, and knowing what they have done, do you think that we can ever truly align ourselves with Incendin?” Zephra asked. “Do you think we can ever find peace when the lisincend are involved?”

  She didn’t hide the heat in her voice or bother to conceal her anger, but Tan couldn’t really expect her to. She had lost so much to Incendin and the lisincend.

  It always came back to the lisincend. The twisted creatures had tormented the kingdoms for decades. Roine knew better than most how dangerous the lisincend could be, but Tan recognized that there might be a need for the creatures. He might not like it, and he certainly didn’t approve of what they did, but twisting themselves with fire had granted them a different type of strength, one that had been enough to resist the dangers of Par-shon.

  “If we don’t, we’ll never know any lasting peace,” Tan answered.

  Roine stared at him for long moments. “Peace. Is that what you think we can accomplish?” he asked softly. “That is what you would see the kingdoms find?”

  Tan nodded. “Isn’t that what you want?”

  “Peace has always been the dream,” he said, mostly to himself. “Come. Let me show you something.”

  He pushed past Tan and out into the hall, heading toward the steps at the end of the hall, not waiting for Tan to follow.

  5

  Regent Plan

  The stairs up from the lower level of the palace let out into the main hall. Tan found Roine waiting for them at the top. Servants dressed in crisp white palace garb hurried through the halls, most stepping to the side as Roine passed, but all bowing to him. Roine tipped his head at each one, the motion slight, but at least he acknowledged their presence. To a few, Roine even said their names, smiling at them.

  When Tan had been in Nor and serving in the manor house, Lord Lind had rarely given anyone below his station much notice, unless to punish them. It was good to see that Roine wasn’t above the simple kindness of recognizing that there were people who worked for him, not simply servants.

  “What do you want to show me?” Tan asked.

  Amia stayed close by him. Even Zephra had come, making her way up the stairs on a subtle shaping of wind. It was so slight that few shapers would even notice, but Tan recognized the draw of wind and the way that his mother pulled the elementals to her. She did it almost without thinking, seemingly as simple as breathing. And to her, it likely was that simple. She had been shaping wind for longer than Tan had been alive. Much of that time had been aided by the wind elementals.

  “Not here,” Roine said.

  About halfway down the hall, Roine paused and pushed open a door, disappearing behind it. Tan followed, wondering where Roine would be leading them and what he might think they needed to see.

  As he followed Roine, a small group of children, the oldest barely more than six or seven, raced through the halls of the palace, led by one of the white-clad servants. Surprisingly, Master Ferran followed them. They disappeared into another room, their laughter spilling out behind him and echoing down the hall.

  Amia smiled at the children. Tan sensed a certain appreciation from her and wondered at its source.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “They seem happier than the last time that I saw them.”

  “When was that?” He’d been away from the palace for nearly a week, but had thought her focused on getting the Aeta settled within the city during that time. He had been too distracted with Asboel to focus on what she’d been doing in the time he was gone.

  “You remember what Roine asked of me? The Great Mother knows it feels like forever ago that he asked.”

  He looked toward the door with renewed interest. “You found Althem’s heir,” Tan realized.

  Amia touched the band at her neck, eyes going distant as she sensed. “I’m not sure if there is only one heir, or how to decide which is the heir. I think that bothers Roine, not knowing whether there can be an heir. I think it means he’ll have to continue to serve. You know how he’s said how little he enjoys that. I think he’d rather be out with you, dealing with Incendin and Par-shon.”

  Tan thought of how Roine must have reacted to finding so many children by Althem. What must he have thought? “And the children?”

  “Roine wanted them brought to the palace for lessons until the university reopens. After what happened, most of their mothers were willing to send them.”

  “Do they know?”

  Her face darkened. “I think he hid well what he did. Most were shaped by Althem—forced—into what he wanted. The few who were not were shaped to forget. It has been difficult work finding them. Still, the parents of each child have been happy to send them to the university.”

  “Roine doesn’t mind them here?”

  “Ferran said this will have to do until the university construction is complete.”

  He looked at Amia, amazed that she’d withheld this from him. He suspected that she didn’t want to bother him, that she thought to protect him while he worked with Asboel. “When have you had the time?”

  She smiled. “You’ve been busy with the draasin. Serving as First Mother has not taken nearly all of my time. Besides, it’s good for the People to see me serving the kingdoms. Roine has offered his welcome, but many are reluctant to accept. They fear there will be strings attached. Others fear what will happen when our gifts are exposed to the world.”

  “You’re showing them that the world already knows.”

  Amia shrugged. “At least part does. We’re not all like the archivists. They need to understand that we can choose how we’re viewed, just as we can choose how we use the gifts the Great Mother granted.”

  “The pe
ople of the kingdoms need to become accustomed to spirit shapers. Besides the Aeta, I’m a spirit shaper. There will be others.”

  “You say it like this is easy. Tan, it’s been centuries since the kingdoms knew any spirit shapers, and now there will be dozens.”

  “Dozens, and maybe still not enough to save us.” Especially now that Par-shon had learned of spirit. What would happen now that they had? What greater danger did it place the kingdoms in? “What of the children?”

  The troubled expression faded and her smile returned. “Roine seems pleased. Many are promising sensers. He thinks there will be shapers among them as well.”

  She didn’t say it, but Roine hoped to discover warriors among them. Althem had done terrible things with his spirit shaping, had manipulated and coerced and occasionally forced himself upon others, but there could be some good that would come out of it, just as there had been some good that had come from all the horror that Tan had experienced.

  Amia nudged him into the doorway. Tan stared over his shoulder, unable to shake the thought of the children. They deserved a chance to study and learn their shaping—if they were meant to shape—without the fear of war looming over them. They deserved the chance to reach for the elementals and understand that there was much that could be gained from working with the elemental powers. And Ferran would be a good teacher. Unlike some, he had embraced the change, recognizing that the old ways of the university needed to be different for them to succeed.

  Tan felt Roine’s eyes on him as they entered the room. When he met the regent’s eye, Roine glanced at Amia. “You saw them?” Roine asked.

  Amia nodded. “They’ve grown quickly. Even in the few weeks we’ve had them, we’ve managed to demonstrate significant sensing in nearly half.”

  Tan looked around the room. It was a grand space, wide open with a ceiling nearly twenty feet over his head. Portraits hung on the walls, but they were different than those representing the rulers who had come through the kingdoms. Here, these depicted maps and battle scenes, and visions of the countryside. A few shapers lanterns hung on posts at the center of the room and had been shaped to provide a soft white light.