Fire was life, but no more so than any of the other elements. Without wind, there would be no breath. Without water, there would be no blood. Without earth, there would be no sustenance. And spirit—spirit fused everything together, weaving throughout everything that could be done. Spirit might be the most essential of the elements, the most pure, but also the most elusive.
Tan drew Seanan’s shaping away, pulling it toward saa. The elemental accepted it readily. Once, Tan might have tried drawing the shaping into himself, but he’d learned what happened when he did that, the way that fire would consume, would change the shaper, twisting the connection he had to the fire bond. There was no control when fire burned like that.
Seanan turned to him sharply. “What did you do?”
Tan sniffed. “I ask you what you can sense of fire and you show me a shaping. You might be a skilled shaper, Seanan, but do you know fire?”
Seanan waved his hand again. This time, the air sizzled with a whip-thin streamer of fire. Saa was drawn to it, compelled toward the fire. Seanan held the shaping, forming shapes in the air. His hand glowed with the strength of his actions.
Once, Tan might have been impressed by such a display of control. There was no doubting Seanan’s skill. Perhaps he would have been able to teach Tan about fire when he first learned, rather than asking Cianna. That might have avoided some of Amia’s irritation. But now, Tan understood fire in a way that was different from Seanan, an understanding that came not only from working with the draasin, but also from studying the other elementals, struggling to know how to reach them, to learn how they were all connected. More than anything, that was what Tan had learned.
Fire remained easiest for him. He understood it, could see the way Seanan pulled on his shaping, the simple and almost casual way that he dragged the shaping from within him. But it had consequences. Not only was saa drawn to it, but it connected to the rest of fire, joining with it. Had Tan reached through the fire bond, he suspected that he could see it.
With a flash of shaping, Tan extinguished Seanan’s, sending it again to saa. The elemental accepted the fire easily and danced within the hearth, enjoying the gift. The swirling shapes from saa seemed to form shapes, and they combined with something like murmuring in the back of Tan’s mind. Had he focused, he thought he might finally be able to understand saa.
Another time. For now, he had to focus on Seanan.
The fire shaper stared at him, his eyes flashing with irritation that bordered on anger. Tan shaped him with spirit, layering the gentlest touch that he could upon the shaper’s mind. He didn’t want to alienate Seanan, only help him to see how much more there was to know about fire than what he understood. It had taken bonding to the draasin, to nearly losing Asgar, for Tan to begin to understand. He might not have the same knowledge that Asboel managed, but he remained open to learning.
“Seanan,” Tan said, letting the words coming out as soothingly as possible. “You came to me. I can see that you’re skilled. You have much talent with shaping, but fire is about more than simply shaping. There is power to be had, yes, but it requires understanding and submission and control. You have the control, but can you strive for understanding?”
Tan didn’t push for the submission part. Few understood how you had to trust that fire would not burn through you when shaped. Tan still wasn’t sure that he fully understood, only that he no longer feared Asboel’s flames or those of another shaper. They would not harm him, because fire would not harm him.
The fire shaper pursed his lips and turned back toward the hearth. He breathed silently for a while, his shaping simmering beneath the surface, so similar to what Cianna did. At least with her, Tan recognized that her shaping was done because she enjoyed the touch of fire; she wanted to mingle with it. Seanan had an angry sense about him. He would not have done well with a bond to the draasin.
“It has been a long time since someone addressed me with such indifference,” Seanan said.
“You think that is indifference?”
Seanan looked over to him. “You simply extinguished my strongest shaping.”
Tan fixed him with a hard expression. “Then you don’t understand what I did.”
“Explain it, then.”
“I asked you to sense fire, and you shaped. I tell you that I did not extinguish fire, and you ask how. Had you sensed rather than shaped, you might understand.”
Tan pulled on saa, asking the fire elemental to assist with his shaping. As saa so often did, it came willingly, leaping toward Tan with a connection to the shaping and drawn to fire. Tan held the shaping, cupping the flame above his hand.
“What do you sense?” he asked.
Seanan studied Tan’s shaping, frowning as he did. “You have exquisite control. How is it that you hold fire like that?”
“This is not my control. This is saa.”
Seanan waved a hand dismissively. “Saa is little more than a weak elemental.”
Tan released saa back to the hearth. It was unfortunate that even a fire shaper felt that way about saa. Tan had met other shapers convinced that saa was useless, but fire shapers should be different. “Without saa, I would not still be here,” he said. “What you think is a weak elemental is quite powerful in Par-shon. Saa rivals any fire elemental there.”
“Even the draasin?”
Tan laughed softly. “There are few elementals like the draasin. But there are few draasin remaining. And they have all bonded.”
Seanan looked over again. “All? Even the younglings?”
Tan wondered how much to share with Seanan. He didn’t want to say anything that might tempt him to chase the draasin, to try and reach the lower level of the archives. Seanan would be better served simply listening for saa, to see if there was any way that he could understand that elemental, rather than reaching for one as powerful as the draasin.
“The younglings have been claimed as well,” Tan lied.
Seanan gripped the armrest of the chair and stood. “If you will not teach, then—”
Tan stood and faced him. “If you want to have any hope of bonding to an elemental, especially a fire elemental, you will need to learn to listen. Fire is harsh and dangerous, more so than any of the other elementals.” Tan flicked his eyes to the hearth, softening his tone. “If you would learn, then you will listen. Study saa first. Learn the intricate way it dances within fire. When you understand that, then return to me and we can see what else you might learn.”
Seanan frowned, his brow furrowed as he considered Tan for a long moment, then he nodded, starting toward the door. “I will try this. I don’t know if there is anything that I can learn from an elemental like saa, but…”
Tan tipped his head and Seanan disappeared behind the door.
It was a start. Even if Seanan refused to listen to the lessons that saa could teach, having him focusing on attempting the connection to the elementals seemed the best way to reach him. After all, wasn’t that how Ferran had reached golud? He listened first, letting his desire to learn drive him. Tan couldn’t force him to do that, any more than he could force the elemental to bond. It had to happen naturally. If only he could find some way to bring the bond to others.
Whatever else he did, he needed to help bridge shapers and elementals again. Without sharing a connection, both suffered. But it came down to the same issue he had in trying to teach Seanan: there simply did not seem to be the necessary time for all that he needed to do.
Tan returned to sit in front of the fire, staring at the flames as if searching for understanding. Tonight he would rest. Tomorrow, he would find Cora, and from there, Incendin.
7
An Elemental Summons
For the first time that Tan remembered, golud called to him.
He awoke to the rumbling request, drawn from a restless slumber where he dreamt of men like Seanan, but with faces that he didn’t recognize, each working shapings that seemed designed to attack—to harness—the elementals. Even in his dream, there was a certa
in anxiety to what he sensed, a troubling awareness that shapers did not truly understand what they did to the elementals.
Then the shaking rumbled through him, demanding his attention. For one terrifying moment, Tan thought the rumbling came from another attack on the city, that perhaps Par-shon, or even Incendin, had returned, determined to finish the city’s destruction. But the rumbling was not the same as he’d felt when the city fell. This was deep, rolling through his bones, an unrelenting demand.
Golud.
Tan sat up and jumped from the bed on a shaping of wind. Lying next to him, Amia rolled and opened her eyes sleepily. Tan stood in place, not wanting to move, focusing on trying to understand what golud sent. The earth elemental was difficult for him to reach, but there was no question that was what he sensed.
“What is it?” Amia asked.
Tan looked around the wagon he shared with Amia when he stayed with the Aeta. He’d come to her late, after finally moving past Seanan’s request, long after most of the Aeta had drifted away from the Great Fire at the heart of the circle of wagons once again camped on the outskirts of Ethea. In the week since Par-shon attacked, they remained just outside the walls of the city. Close enough to Ethea for its protection, but far enough that they were separate. From what Tan understood, the Aeta felt the separation important, regardless of his urging them to remain in the city.
When Tan had come to the fire, Amia hadn’t questioned him. Likely she had some understanding of what he’d experienced, sensed through their bond, and the concerned expression on her face had been enough to give him some measure of relief.
The wagon assigned to Amia was simple. The walls were brightly painted like most of the Aeta wagons, her wagon in shades of yellow and orange. Amia had added a wall of a vibrant blue at some point during the last week. Hooks on the wall held personal items, like her dress. A tall shelf rested against the wall near the door. A wide band of silver that gleamed in the moonlight filtering through the open windows remained untouched. Tan wondered if Amia would ever claim the marker of office, or if she would always prefer the gold band gifted to her by Roine.
There were other items in the wagon, things that he once would have found intriguing and valuable. Trinkets from places like Chenir, or silks from Xsa, even pots made with Nor steel, their quality unrivaled elsewhere in the kingdoms. Now Tan simply looked past them. The only valuable within the wagon that he cared about was Amia.
“Golud,” he said.
She sat on the edge of the bed and tipped her head, as if straining to listen. Tan often wondered if she could use the connection they shared to reach the elementals, or if she simply went unaware. She shook her head slightly, as if knowing his thoughts.
“I can’t reach them the same as you, if that’s what you’d like to know,” she said.
Tan smiled tightly as he turned toward the door. The steady rumbling hadn’t eased since starting, still demanding his attention. Could anyone else feel it, or was it meant only for him?
“Go,” Amia said. “See what it is.”
“You could come,” he suggested. Everything felt better having her along with him.
She shook her head. “Tomorrow we will be bringing Lyssa here.”
Tan frowned before remembering that she was the child Roine had discovered, the girl with the ability with spirit. The transition might be difficult for her and Amia intended to make it as smooth and welcoming as possible. Now that she served as First Mother, she had responsibilities, but more importantly, she also had purpose. A change had come over her since she had taken on the title, one that Tan recognized was healthy, but he hated how it kept them apart.
He touched her hand and kissed her cheek. “Rest then. I’ll return when I can.”
Her strained smile told him that she doubted it would be tonight.
Tan grabbed his warrior sword off one of the hooks along the wall and strapped it to his waist before stepping out of the wagon and into the clearing. The wagons were set in a wide circle, now numbering over one hundred representing over a dozen families. A few families had joined after the Par-shon attack, and Amia thought a few more might still be making their way toward Ethea.
The smoldering remains of the fire pulled on him, drawing his attention. Tan ignored it and stepped onto a shaping of wind, lifting him into the air. Honl augmented the shaping, carrying him into the sky. Once there, Tan added the warrior shaping, mixing spirit into it.
There was one place he knew to reach golud to better understand why they had summoned. Never before had golud reached out to him.
As he pulled the shaping toward him, lightning carried him soundlessly toward Ethea, where he emerged in the center of the university. It had changed a lot since falling. Each day brought new changes, the walls rising quickly now, aided by golud working with the shapers—particularly with Ferran—and now the university created a wide horseshoe shape around the yard, with the undamaged shaper circle at the heart of it.
The warm air created by Honl swirled around him, though there were snatches of cooler air coming from ara, who carried the scent of the city, that of the broken remains of the university, the dust still mixing into the air, the lingering remnants of fire that had raged throughout the city, that of metal being forged, of the horses passing along the streets, the sweat of those working and living here, and a few sweeter smells like the flowers growing in squares or bread and pastries from bakeries. Ara carried with it the vibrant and alive scents of life from the city.
Tan expected to be alone, but Ferran was there, dark eyes studying the ground, his face screwed up in concentration.
“Master Ferran,” Tan said, stepping off the circle and toward Ferran, who tipped his head.
He was a thin man, but moved with a rigid strength. He wore a long jacket and loose pants, more casual and open than the hooded cloak Tan had seen him wearing when they first met. He had a serious face and deep, thoughtful eyes. “Athan. I hoped you would come.”
Tan hesitated. “This is not golud?”
“This is golud. I did not know why they summoned at first, but they say that Maelen requested they keep watch.” He met Tan’s eyes. “That is you?”
He hadn’t released that the draasin shared his name with the other elementals. “That’s what the draasin call me, yes.”
Ferran nodded. “Fitting. A warrior’s title.”
“Not so much a title. More like a reference to an annoying creature.”
Ferran surprised him by laughing. “I imagine that to the draasin, many creatures are annoying. Only those with their respect receive attention. Fewer still receive names.”
“That’s one way of looking at it,” Tan said.
“You asked golud to keep watch?”
“I’ve asked all the elementals to keep watch,” he said. But hadn’t it only been over the draasin? He would know if Asgar or Sashari were in danger, wouldn’t he?
Tan focused on fire, feeling the warmth of the stones, the draw of flames in hearths throughout the city, and then reached toward the fire bond. It became easier each time he did it. There, distantly beneath the city, he sensed Asgar and Sashari, both resting silently. Knowing that they were safe, he chose not to disturb them. Distantly, Asboel still hunted.
“What has golud found?” Tan asked.
Ferran nodded to the north. “You don’t hear them?”
“I hear golud, but I still struggle understanding.” He couldn’t explain it any better than that. “I recognized the summons, but not what they want.”
Ferran tipped his head as if understanding. “Come, then. We will learn together.”
Ferran lifted into the air, using a shaping of earth like Tan had seen in Par-shon. He only now understood it. It wasn’t even a difficult shaping, only one that took great strength. Tan followed, but used wind and fire to draw him airward. They traveled over the city, out beyond the northern borders, before settling down onto the wide, rolling hills.
This was the edge of Vatten where it rolled into Te
r, the plains covered by tall grasses. Tan reached out with an earth sensing and recognized water and trees and small animals moving silently through the night. A low howl of a wolf called and Tan paused to listen, reminded of the mountain wolves that prowled through Galen. The nearly full moon filtered through thick clouds overhead, leaving a shimmery silver light spilling over the fields.
Tan listened for golud as they stopped. Ferran was bound to the earth elemental, so Tan suspected that he would understand first. As he listened, he felt the steady rumbling, an irritated sense. Angry.
His heart hammered. “Par-shon,” he whispered.
“You are certain?”
Tan swept his arms around him. “That is why golud is upset. There is earth shaping here, but it is bound to an elemental. Forced onto an elemental.”
“They would not try to harvest elementals here,” Ferran said.
“It’s possible they would. The elementals are strong in the kingdoms. Cora once told me how Par-shon had techniques for pulling on the elementals, forcing them to bond.” Could Par-shon have risked sending shapers this deep into the kingdoms?
If they had come for the hatchlings—and he knew that they had—then there was no reason to think that they would not.
“We must find them,” Tan said.
“Theondar should know,” Ferran said.
Ferran was right, but Tan had left his summoning rune coin back in Ethea. Without that, he had no real way of reaching Roine.
“Do you have your summoning coin?”
Ferran shook his head. “We’re in the kingdoms! We should be safe.”
“We were in the kingdoms when Par-shon last attacked.”
There was another way to reach Roine, but it wouldn’t be as direct and he would have to rely upon convincing ara to do what he needed. What other choice did he have?
Tan focused, letting the cool breeze play around him. Ara. Send word to Aric and Zephra. Tan has need.
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