Servant of Fire (The Cloud Warrior Saga Book 7)

by D. K. Holmberg

  Chenir was at war.

  Tan had expected, at worst, to find Chenir readying for a fight, but this was much more than simply preparing. And if Par-shon had already invaded, the time they had was limited.

  He readied a shaping but saw nothing that he could shape. Men and women moved with organized purpose as they hurried between tents, some carrying the injured. A few moved more slowly, with limps or missing limbs, and wore a dazed expression that Tan had seen before. Shapings took place all around him, including one that he recognized.

  Tan walked rather than shaping himself through the camp. He didn’t want to risk getting attacked by one of the Chenir shapers, though they sounded too preoccupied to worry about a single shaper moving through the camp.

  He found his mother sitting on the edge of the expanse of tents. She perched on a shaping of wind, staring out at the Chenir camp. A bruise swelled one of her eyes, but she was otherwise unharmed. Ara and her bonded elemental, Aric, swirled around her loose hair, sending strands of black and gray hair flipping into her face.

  “Theondar was not to send you here,” she said as he approached.

  Tan snorted. “Nice to see you too, Mother.”

  She relaxed her shaping and landed next to him, crossing her arms over her chest as she did. “The summons was for Theondar, not for you, Tannen.”

  “And Theondar made a point of sending his Athan.”

  She took in a quick breath. Tan recognized her frustration, even if her face didn’t change. In spite of what had happened between them over the last year, he still knew her well and remembered the agitated way that she could be when she didn’t get what she wanted.

  “Why did you summon him, Mother? What’s happening here?”

  Tan took in the tents and the people hurrying through the campsite. He listened to the shapings, recognizing a similarity to what Incendin used within the Fire Fortress. This wasn’t an attempt to defeat Par-shon. This was only an attempt to hold them back.

  “They’re already here,” he said.

  “Why do you think that I’d summon Theondar?” Zephra snapped.

  Tan bit back the sharp retort that came to mind about the closeness he’d seen between Zephra and Roine. That wasn’t of his concern. Then he sighed. “Are you going to tell me what you’ve seen here, or do I have to go and search for answers on my own?”

  Her brow furrowed, and for a moment, he thought she might admonish him much as she once did, but now there was a different tension between them. Tan was Athan to Theondar, the king regent. In that, he outranked her.

  “Fine. I will show you, and then you will tell Theondar what you saw. After that, you will tell him that he needs to come himself when I summon.”

  Tan suppressed a laugh and waited for his mother to catch the wind, lifting into the air.

  Her shaping swept her away from the camp, taking her north. Tan followed, using wind and a hint of fire to remain aloft. In the past, he’d summoned Honl to assist him, letting the wind elemental carry him. Since Honl’s change, the elemental hadn’t been as available, but Tan didn’t summon him for reasons that were different than just that. Honl was different, and he wasn’t certain that the elemental always wanted to be summoned. In some ways, Tan suspected that was a good change. It made Honl more independent and confident. In other ways, he missed the ability to call on the wind and draw strength from the elemental to preserve his shaping strength.

  Only, that wasn’t even necessary anymore. Tan’s shaping pulled on the elementals, even when he didn’t intend to do so. His ability was so mingled together with the elementals that he often didn’t think about whether he was shaping through himself or if he was using elemental power. In that way, he was more like the Utu Tonah than he cared to admit.

  They reached a series of small, jagged peaks covered with dark green pine trees that rose toward the clouds. His mother stopped, letting the wind hold her in place. The bitter bite of char and ash mingled with the pine scent. The air stagnated, not gusting as it had closer to the Chenir camp.

  “Do you sense anything here?” she asked.

  Tan stretched out with earth sensing, mixing spirit with it. The combination allowed him to detect even more than he would otherwise. Wolves prowled in far-off trees but moved away, drifting to the west and south. A few birds lingered, but they too preferred to stay away. There were none of the other creatures he’d expect in a mountainous place like this. The land was empty, almost barren. As if abandoned.

  “No,” he said. “There is life, but it moves away from here.”

  “What else has moved away from here?” she asked.

  Tan frowned, wishing she would simply get to her point, but that was not his mother’s way. Arguing would do no good, especially if she thought that whatever she’d seen was important enough to summon Roine. It would be a risk to call him out of the kingdoms, a risk that the king regent shouldn’t take lightly.

  Tan listened. He used the skills that his father had taught him long ago, focusing on the way the earth called to him, letting his senses roll away. He was stronger now than he’d been then, his ability with shaping giving him more earth sensing than he’d ever managed when learning with his father. It was during times like these that he missed him the most. He’d never had the chance to see what Tan had become, to learn of the shaper his son had become.

  Earth sensing didn’t reveal anything more, but maybe that wasn’t what his mother intended to show him. Tan shifted his attention, listening now through his elemental senses, straining for water and earth, knowing that the stagnant wind would prevent the elementals from coming through here and that the fire bond hadn’t revealed any sign of fire here.

  There was nothing.

  Even in the most barren land—places like the center of Incendin or the high rocks of Galen—there had been some evidence of the elementals, even if it was nothing more than a gust of wind or the heavy sense of the earth elemental. There was nothing here.

  This was what his mother had wanted to show him.

  “Is this Par-shon?” he asked.

  “Some,” she said. “Chenir as well. They call the elementals away, thinking that withdrawing them keeps them safe. They do not see the effect of their actions.”

  Tan found it interesting that his mother would use the term withdrawing. When Enya had attempted her attack on Incendin, she had attempted to withdraw fire. Tan hadn’t known what that meant at the time, but Asboel had opposed her, preventing her from completing it. That had weakened him, leaving him vulnerable to the Par-shon attack.

  Then there was what he’d seen in Doma when Par-shon had trapped the elementals. The landscape had quickly changed, as if without the elementals, the land had died. Did Par-shon know that would happen?

  How could they not?

  “Why does Chenir pull the elementals away?” he asked.

  His mother turned toward him. “They fear for the elementals’ safety. They think it better to release the elementals than to risk their capture by Par-shon.”

  Tan shaped himself forward, moving away from his mother to search the rock around them. The slope gradually made its way higher, and he watched for movement, for anything that would be a sign of others moving along the rock, but he found nothing.

  Tan closed his eyes, focusing on what he could of the elementals. Now that he knew they were gone, he strained to determine if he could find any of them. Tan was given the gift of reaching the elementals and speaking to them, but what he needed now was a way of locating them. The fire bond would help him reach elementals of fire, but that wasn’t what Tan wanted. He knew that fire had withdrawn. He needed to know about the others and understand where they might have gone.

  Would spirit help him reach the other elementals?

  Spirit pooled deep within him. When he focused, he could reach for the connection, pull on it, and use it to give him even more strength with his shapings. He’d never attempted to use spirit to help him search for elementals other than how he’d used it in the
fire bond.

  Tan reached for spirit, while at the same time questing out with a sensing for water, much like he did when he reached for the fire bond. If there was a bond within fire, wouldn’t there be something similar with the other elementals? Shouldn’t he be able to reach them as well as he reached fire?

  Only, he didn’t have the same connection to the other elementals that he had with fire.

  Could he reach for wind? His bond with Honl was strong, in some ways as strong as the one with Asboel.

  Tan shifted his focus, releasing water and grabbing onto his connection to the wind elemental. The sense of Honl drifted in the back of his mind. Tan called to him, trying to make it clear what he wanted from the elemental.

  Is there a connection to wind as there is with fire? Tan asked.

  The awareness of Honl drifted closer. Wind is everywhere. Without wind, there is no breath, no life.

  Is wind connected?

  You breathe out and another breathes in. That is wind.

  The air shimmered faintly with a hint of dark smoke. Honl was here, but he chose not to reveal himself. Tan wondered if Zephra would even recognize him, or if she’d be frightened by the change.

  Can I use that to reach for the other elementals?

  Why would you search for wind?

  I would know if Par-shon has trapped them. I would know if Chenir has pulled them away, Tan answered.

  How does that change what you must do? Honl asked.

  Tan didn’t know if it changed anything about what he needed to do. Can you come with me?

  Honl coalesced for a moment into a darker cloud. Tan looked past Honl and saw Zephra frowning, her forehead wrinkling as she stared at where Honl had been.

  “Return to the camp or the kingdoms. I will see what I can learn and then return.”

  “I don’t think you understand what this means,” Zephra said.

  “What does it mean, Mother?”

  She shaped toward him on a cloud buffered by Aric, her bonded elemental. Zephra moved with tight control as she came toward him. She stopped where Honl had been and studied the air for a moment, sniffing softly in a way that reminded Tan of the lisincend.

  “You can shape well, Tannen, but you are not a strong shaper on your own.” He arched a brow at the comment and she shrugged. “You have grown stronger with your shaping, but you have always been able to rely on the elementals to assist. If you go out there—”

  “I’m bonded to the elementals, Mother.”

  “And you intend to draw from their strength? Do you really want to risk that without knowing what you’ll find?”

  He knew that she was right, but he needed to know what Par-shon and Chenir had done, and learn if there was any way to restore the land. “I’ll be fine,” he said.

  Her eyes flickered to where Honl had been. “Then I will go with you.”

  “Mother—”

  “No, Tannen. You often forget the limitations you have, mostly because your limits keep changing. I will not risk you endangering yourself without good reason. I will go with you for this.”

  Tan considered arguing, but it wouldn’t do him any good, not when Zephra got it in her head that she needed to do something.

  Distantly, he thought he heard Asboel laughing within his mind. Tan pushed it away.

  “Fine, you may come, Zephra, but you will remember that I am the Athan to the king regent.”

  Her mouth tightened. Tan couldn’t tell if it was irritation or amusement that tugged on her face.

  13

  Zephra Falls

  Tan traveled on a shaping of wind, using fire with it as he flew above the desolate lands of Chenir. He had been within Chenir only one other time, and that had been when kaas had attacked the elementals here, forcing Tan to come. Had he not, how many elementals would have been lost to the twisted one?

  And now, the land had changed, partly because Chenir thought to withdraw their elementals. Once green lands had gone brown, leaving everything with a desolate and dreary appearance. Tan sensed nothing moving below, no life and nothing from the elementals that should have called Chenir home.

  Honl drifted in a trail of smoke alongside him. Tan made a point of not pulling on his strength, using a shaping of his own rather than anything that was borrowed from the wind elemental. Zephra trailed him.

  Is there anything here that you can see? Tan asked Honl.

  This land has changed, Tan. There is much lost here.

  Was it Par-shon, or is this all the effect of Chenir?

  I don’t know.

  Honl drifted away, more like a smudge of darkness. As he did, Zephra approached and touched Tan’s arm. “What happened with your elemental?” she asked.

  Tan’s breath caught for a moment. “Nothing happened.”

  “Tannen, I can see him. That alone tells me that something changed. More than that, Aric tells me that your elemental is more than only wind now.”

  More than wind. That was an interesting way of describing what had happened with Honl. “You know that the elemental kaas destroyed other elementals,” Tan said. Zephra nodded. “When we were chasing him, trying to keep him from injuring any other elementals, my bonded wind elemental was trapped, pulled toward kaas. As I tried to save him, I had to use spirit and wind. Since then . . . ”

  Tan didn’t know how to finish. How could he explain that since he’d saved Honl, the elemental had seemed less in touch with ashi than he’d been before? How could he explain that now Honl seemed to have insight that he’d lacked before? Or that he could speak, where before he’d only communicated through the bond.

  “The bond changes both bonded,” Zephra said. “That much is inevitable.”

  “I don’t think it’s ever changed the draasin.”

  “Hasn’t it? Don’t you think that your draasin acts differently now than he had before you’d bonded?”

  “He sees the need to help save the elementals,” Tan said.

  “That’s all that you’ve done? You might have cleared Doma and tried to free the bonded elementals, but you’ve done other things that should not matter to the draasin. Without the bond, why else would he assist you when you rescued the Aeta?”

  Has the bond changed you? Tan asked Asboel.

  The response came distantly but clearly. There is always change, Maelen.

  And what of you? What of the change within you?

  I have learned to appreciate the bond. Once I would not have said the same.

  Tan took solace in that.

  “And you, Tannen. You have changed more than I ever would have imagined. It’s more than your ability to shape. It’s what your connection to the elementals has done to you.”

  Tan frowned, thinking about the implications of what she said. “You were not bonded for most of my life,” he realized.

  She shook her head. “I’ve told you how I lost my bond. I wasn’t even certain that the wind would answer when I summoned again. It had been so long. Losing that bond the first time . . . It was painful, Tannen. I did not think I would ever want another bond, even if it were possible. Alyia suited me. But Aric . . . ” She sighed, and her voice took on a distant note. Her eyes unfocused, as if she were seeing something that only she could see. Likely Aric, though Tan wondered if she was remembering what it had been like for them when they’d lived in Nor. It had been a peaceful time for them all, a peace that had been broken when Tan’s father had been summoned to serve along the border and push back an Incendin attack. “Aric suits the person I am now.”

  Anger at Incendin had filled him for a long time, but he understood now that his anger had been misplaced. Incendin hadn’t been the problem. They might have been the reason that his father had died, but they had attacked because they sought to have enough strength to oppose Par-shon. Had Incendin only been willing to ask for help, much might have been different—or maybe it would have changed nothing. There was so much distrust, built over the centuries of Incendin’s anger at the splitting of Rens, that could either
side have been willing to see that they needed to work together?

  Could they find that common ground now?

  It is these questions that show how much you have changed, Maelen. They are the same questions that have proven how much I have changed. There was a time I would have destroyed all of what is Incendin for what they have done to the draasin, but I see what you do and can understand the need for restraint.

  “When you bonded to Aric, it changed you again,” Tan commented.

  Zephra’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I am your mother, Tannen. The bond has not changed that, nor could it.”

  Tan wondered what it had changed. Since her return, his mother had seemed different. He’d never really understood before, but he had never really considered the fact that she had bonded at the same time as the attack that leveled Nor.

  More than that, Tan had formed bonds about the same time. First to Amia, and then to Asboel. “You are my mother,” Tan said. “And I would see you happy. Whatever—and whoever—it takes.”

  Tension that he hadn’t known was in her face eased, letting some of the hard lines around her eyes soften. “That is all I’ve ever wanted for you as well.”

  “When we finally push Par-shon away, maybe we’ll both be able to find happiness.”

  She twirled on the wind holding her, strands of hair coming loose and blowing in her face. “I don’t think we can wait to find happiness, Tannen. We face too much already; any chance we have to be happy, we should—”

  A blast of lightning struck, sending Zephra tumbling before she could finish.

  Tan readied a shaping, drawing it around him, creating a buffer of wind and healing water, readying for whatever had attacked. There was no evidence of another attack.

  Honl!

  The wind elemental slid toward him on a cloud of dark smoke, materializing into the shape of a man floating alongside Tan. “I saw nothing.”

  Tan glanced at Zephra, who was sprawled across the ground. Earth sensing told him that she lived, but he didn’t know how much time she might have. If he waited to reach her, the shaping that had struck might have been enough to kill her.