All except spirit. The Utu Tonah had not understood spirit.
“The runes are gone as you required, Utu Tonah,” Tolman answered.
Tan watched him, searching for some sign that he might be hiding something from him, but saw nothing. With spirit, he layered a light touch on Tolman, searching for additional evidence of what might be concealed. There was a time when Tan would have felt a twinge of guilt at using spirit in this way, but that time disappeared when Par-shon attacked.
“That is good. And what of the other request I made?”
“Utu Tonah?”
Pulling through his connection to Amia, Tan could access a greater connection to spirit than he could otherwise. Using this connection, and drawing through his warrior sword, he sent a shaping of spirit that washed over all of Par-shon. As he did, he listened for the response.
He detected nothing.
“Your shapers,” he said. “I would know your shapers.”
“But Utu Tonah, you have instructed that we have no shapers.”
Tan took a deep breath, pushing back the surge of irritation that he felt. That hadn’t been his instruction, but he would give Tolman the benefit of the doubt, knowing that the man must have been under some fair amount of strain trying to monitor Par-shon in Tan’s absence.
“When I left the last time, I asked you to come up with a list of the shapers who were able to use the power of the elements without the forced bonds. I know that there are shapers within Par-shon who do not require forced bonds for their ability,” Tan said. “There might even be shapers capable of bonding to the elemental the right way.” He didn’t want to think about whether his way even was the right way. Forced bonds certainly weren’t the way the elementals were meant to bond. Most would never choose a bond, but for those that did, there was great power in that connection. “I would have you bring the list to me. Those who have potential but still have not learned will go to the university to learn. The others will be given an opportunity to be useful and prove themselves.”
He had debated what to do with those who demonstrated real potential. There would be shapers, and some with potential. With as few shapers as existed in the world these days, Tan thought it best to find some way to pull them all together. They would need training, and the university could offer that education. Having them learn there, from shapers with an increasing ability to connect to the elementals and speak to them, to know the benefits of the bond the same way that Tan did, would be another opportunity to bring their people together.
“Utu Tonah,” Tolman said. His face had gone white, and Tan wondered what he’d said that bothered him. “It will be as you ask. If you don’t mind a question.”
“You never have to fear asking questions, Tolman,” Tan said.
“Might you share how you intend for them to reach the university?”
Tan smiled and nodded to Asgar. The draasin had agreed, mostly because he thought it amusing and figured that he would have the opportunity to scare some of the Par-shon shapers. But Tan had wanted to use the draasin for a different reason. Using the draasin, sharing the fact that the elementals were not something to be feared, would hopefully keep the future shapers of Par-shon from wanting to attack the draasin when they leaned to control their abilities.
Tolman’s agitation faded as he gained control of himself, and he nodded. “When we present them to you, how long will you remain here?”
Tan hadn’t considered how long he and Amia would stay in Par-shon. He had intended to come and find the shapers, and then use the time while in the country to learn what he could about the hybrid elementals that had been created, elementals that he had managed to heal while wrapped in the power of the combined shaping from each nation, but he had not intended to remain much longer than that. But when he left, what would he do? Returning to the kingdoms meant that he would be subject to Roine’s moods. He had spent time in Incendin, learning more about the people there, as well as working with Cora in the Fire Fortress. Even Doma and Chenir had offered him lessons.
When he returned, he and Amia would marry. But not before.
It was Amia who reminded him that he had been away from Par-shon for long enough. He owed it to the people to make an appearance; either that or to assign someone to rule—truly rule—in his stead. He was not willing to abandon Par-shon to someone who might not have the same goal that he did.
“I will remain as long as I’m needed,” Tan said. “Now. I would like to know where I will sleep.”
2
The Utu Tonah Meets the Council
The Utu Tonah occupied an entire separate estate nearly the size of the palace in the kingdoms. Servants bustled into action prior to their arrival, likely having been warned that they would soon be coming. Tan had been tempted to take something smaller, but Amia reminded him that they needed to maintain appearances while they were in Par-shon.
An ornate hearth took up a large portion of the main room, and before doing anything else, Tan shaped flames onto the logs. Saa was powerful in Par-shon and leaped into the fire, swirling with much more strength than in any place else Tan had been. He stared at the flames, reaching through the fire bond to connect to saa, and enjoyed the brief presence in his mind. He found himself doing that more and more these days, a reminder of when Asboel had been alive.
“You could find another to bond,” Amia said.
She wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her chin on his back. She no longer carried with her the scent of the Aeta; she had been within the kingdoms too long. Instead, the clean soap and lilac perfume reflected the kingdoms, where she had chosen to make her home.
He touched her hands as he held onto her. “I don’t know that I need to bond to another.” Now that he could reach the fire bond, his connection to fire—and not just to fire, but to Fire—was different and stronger than it ever had been. Asboel had given that gift to him.
“Don’t you think that you’d be stronger with the elements if you did? What of Asgar? Or the other draasin?” Amia asked.
It was a familiar conversation, and one they had too many times before. “I can’t bond to another draasin,” he said softly. “I don’t know if I could even bond to another fire elemental. Doing so feels…” He couldn’t put an easy label on how it felt, only that he didn’t think that he could do that. At least not yet. It felt too much like a betrayal of a friend he still hadn’t properly mourned.
“You wish to honor his memory,” Amia said. Tan nodded. That was all that he wanted. “Then do it through your actions and the way you honor the elementals. Think of all that you’ve already accomplished and know that he would be proud.”
The Daughter is wise, Maelen.
The sudden intrusion of Asgar made him jump. In some ways, it reminded him of Asboel. The draasin had listened to everything that Tan did in the weeks before his death, and had offered comments and wisdom. Having Asgar there was both familiar… and jarring.
You shouldn’t be listening, Tan said to the draasin.
You are connected to the fire bond. I assumed you wanted me to listen.
Tan smiled at the comment. Asgar hurt, too. Losing Asboel had been hard on them all, but Asgar had expected to know his father longer and have the opportunity to learn from him. Without Asboel, the younger draasin would have Sashari and Enya, but neither would be able to teach him as Asboel could. In that way, Tan suspected, he needed to remain connected to Asgar. Without him, the elemental would never learn some of the lessons that Asboel would have taught.
You have grown strong, Asgar. That is all he ever wanted.
As have you, Maelen. Remember that he chose the bond. He chose you, Maelen.
Tan smiled at the thought. What had once been terrifying, the idea of having the draasin alive and aware in his mind, had become a comfort. He longed for it at times and missed the connection more than he could ever truly admit.
“You treated Par-shon well,” Amia said. “But they will expect you to lead. They will need you to lead.�
� She released him and faced him, brushing a hand along his cheek. “You are compassionate, which Par-shon needs, but you have a connection to the elementals that they have lost. That is what they really need from you. Somehow, you have to bring that connection back to their people.”
“That’s why we’re here,” Tan said. “But what of the Aeta? Without you there—”
“You know that we are connected, even now. I am not the only one blessed by the Great Mother,” she said. “And you know I did not want the title to begin with.”
Tan smiled. “Much as you know that I don’t want this title.”
She pulled him close and kissed him. “The title suits you, though. And this way, I can say that my beloved is not only the greatest warrior shaper, and bonded to the elementals, but he is also the Utu Tonah of Par-shon. I think Mother would have been proud. She would have welcomed you to the People.”
Tan laughed, letting the comfort of the connection between them linger and wishing they didn’t have to do this before they could marry, but in that, Amia was right. “Do you think she knew what would happen?”
“I think she recognized that you had much potential, Tannen. It does not take a great spirit senser to know that, though.”
The door to the room opened, and a servant entered. She had long, dark hair and heavy earrings in the shape of the runes Tan had forbidden. She bowed deeply when she saw who was in the hall, and looked away. “Utu Tonah,” she said, “there is something for you in the great hall.”
Tan sighed and took Amia’s hands. “It begins,” he said.
The servant led them down the hall and into a wide, high-ceilinged room. Artwork adorned the walls: faces of people that seemed surprisingly familiar, and scenes of battles and attacks that appeared to be little more than a way to demonstrate prowess over the elementals. Those would have to go.
A line of men and women, all of similar age to Roine and his mother, stood waiting for him. They whispered silently to themselves until he entered, and then all conversation ceased. As one, they looked at him.
Tan frowned, waiting for someone to step forward and explain why they had come. None did.
I think they wait for you, Amia sent to him. The shaped connection between them allowed for the ability to speak without words, much like he did with the elementals. And in some ways, Amia served as his connection to spirit.
Careful, Maelen, the Daughter will grow angry if you don’t appreciate her for more than her connection to the Mother.
Tan pushed away the sense of Asgar within his mind, attempting to suppress the amusement he felt. Unlike his father, Asgar had a playfulness about him that was… refreshing in a way. If you’ve been watching, then you know that I appreciate her for much more than her connection to the Mother.
He sensed Amia’s blush and she covered her face with her hand.
What do they expect me to do? Tan sent the question to Amia, wanting to bypass Asgar, but given the way the draasin had inserted himself into Tan’s mind, or maybe it was the connection through the fire bond, he wasn’t sure that he could truly exclude Asgar.
They expect you to lead, she told him.
Tan looked at the faces of the people in front of him. One of the men, an older man with thinning hair and ears a size too large for his head, watched Tan with disapproving lips pressed together. Much like many of the others, he wore a long robe embroidered with runes in white all along the hemline. The time Tan had spent with the First Mother, and in the archives in Ethea, had taught him the meaning of most of the runes, but not all.
A woman next to that man had a black necklace with a different pattern of runes set into stones. A smaller piece of jewelry held her dark hair back and away from her face. She watched Tan with uncertainty.
As his gaze stopped on each of the people arrayed in front of him, he shook his head slowly. With a sudden certainty, he realized that he might have had the runes in the tower destroyed, but there with countless others remaining. Not only runes placed on tiles that were designed to weaken and separate shapers from their abilities, but in other places, like the earrings the servant wore, or the embroidery of the man standing across from him. How many others had similar clothing?
Tan could eliminate the clothing and forbid earrings or other jewelry, but he couldn’t exclude everything, could he?
This was the culture of Par-shon, one where the elementals were subjugated rather than celebrated. Somehow, he would have to change that culture, though Tan wasn’t certain that he could.
“Who leads here?” Tan asked, stepping forward. He placed one hand on the hilt of his sword for effect but had no intentions of unsheathing it.
A woman—younger than the rest—stepped forward, her hands clasped in front of her stomach. Both wrists bore wide bands of leather, and he didn’t miss the brandings pressed into them.
He tipped his head to the side, quickly sensing the patterns on the jewelry and the clothing. Were these somehow for bonded elementals as well?
“You lead here, Utu Tonah,” the woman said. She might be younger than the rest, but she had a voice like steel, and she spoke without fear as she stared at him.
Tan forced a smile as he tried to determine whether the jewelry contained bonded elementals. The bonded that he’d encountered from Par-shon had always used brands placed on their bodies. That had been the way that the Utu Tonah had bonded. But what if there was another way to share a bond?
“Why are you here?” he asked.
The woman regarded him with a measured gaze for long moments. “We are here to serve as needed.”
Serve. What would their service entail? Would it be like Tolman, a man Tan had seen fit to allow to rule in his stead, or would there be something else?
He knew so little about Par-shon. Maybe this had been a mistake coming here. Maybe he should have left it under the rule of another.
It is right that you are here, Amia reminded him.
He took a deep breath and straightened his back, taking the time to pace around the people so that he had time to think about what he needed to do and what he might say. He had to exude confidence but not arrogance. He needed to demonstrate his ability, but not reveal too much of his ignorance. But he had defeated the previous Utu Tonah. That was the reason that he was here.
Maybe he should have asked Roine for his advice, perhaps even brought the old warrior. He might know a better way to handle this. But had he brought Roine, the emphasis of his visit would have changed. Tan hadn’t decided whether Par-shon should remain independent. It was part of the reason he hadn’t shared with Roine that he was now Utu Tonah.
“What are your roles in Par-shon?” he asked.
No one spoke.
Tan stopped in front of the first man he had seen, the one with the sour expression on his face. He looked as if he didn’t want to be here. Not that Tan could blame him; he didn’t want to be here either.
“Who are you and what do you do?” Tan asked.
The man’s hard mask cracked slightly. “I am Leon Szety, Master of Coin, my Utu Tonah.”
Tan took in the man’s dress and his tight posture. “What does that mean in Par-shon?”
The man started to sputter. “What does it mean?” he repeated, then seemed to catch himself. Incredulity faded, and he bowed slightly. “My Utu Tonah, I am responsible for collecting your taxes and ensuring the wealth of Par-shon.”
Tan studied him a moment before moving on. The next person he stopped in front of was an older woman. She wore a simple dress, but the ornate belt looped around her waist had many of the same runes that the others wore. Tan recognized most of them and noted a pattern. His mind began piecing it together, but he couldn’t quite make out what it represented. There was something to it, almost a phrase.
“Who are you and what do you do?” he asked her.
She didn’t look up or bother meeting his eyes. “I am Marin Leftas, my Utu Tonah.” She spoke so softly that her voice didn’t carry very far. “I am the Mistress of Souls.”
“The Mistress of Souls?” Tan frowned. “What does that mean?”
She still didn’t look up at him. “It means that I am responsible for the well-being of your people.”
Tan studied her again, thinking that he understood. She was a priestess of some sort. Cora had suggested once that the people of Incendin were devout, but he hadn’t spent enough time there to really understand. Within the kingdoms, the university was almost a religion.
“I would like to understand more. We will speak again later,” Tan said to her.
She looked up at last and met his eyes. There was a strength there, and with a quick sensing of spirit, he detected compassion. She nodded.
Tan moved on, deciding to speak to the younger woman who had stepped forward when he first spoke. “Who are you and what do you do?”
She stared at him confidently. “I am Elanne Asan. I am the Mistress of Bonds.”
Tan frowned, taking in the bands of leather at her wrists and the loops of silver hanging from her ears—noting the runes upon them as well before noticing what had been worked along the hem of her dress. These were subtly embroidered, almost as if intending to be hidden.
“Bonds. You mean of the elementals.”
Elanne stared at him defiantly.
Anger surged up in Tan, and it took a moment for him to realize that he was feeling some of Asgar’s irritation. The draasin still sat atop the tower, but he focused on what Tan experienced, listening to the conversations. He had the sense that were he attacked, Asgar would find a way to reach him even within the Utu Tonah’s palace.
“As you know, I have forbidden the bonds.”
“Utu Tonah,” she began, “you are not of Par-shon. You do not understand the importance—”
Tan lowered his voice as he addressed her. “I do not have to be of Par-shon to know that the bonds that you forced on the elementals are unnatural.”
Born of Fire (The Cloud Warrior Saga Book 8) Page 2