Servant of Fire (The Cloud Warrior Saga Book 7)

by D. K. Holmberg

  “Safe?” Tan asked. “You think that holding the barrier up will keep us safe? What of Doma? The rest of Chenir? What of Incendin?”

  “The kingdoms can’t be concerned with them. We need to keep our borders safe. We can’t do that if we’re trying to help all those other nations.”

  Tan glanced over at the flames, noting the way that saa swirled within them. How could his mother still think that they only had to worry about themselves? How could she still not think that they needed to look beyond their borders? If Par-shon remained on the continent, everyone would suffer. Not only the nations that fell, but the kingdoms would be in danger, and there would be no way to avoid the eventual attack.

  “Where are the others?” Tan asked.

  Zephra stood and planted her hands on her hips. “I’m not the only one who feels this way, Tannen.”

  He shook his head. “Where are the others?”

  “Roine is in the palace. He’s meeting with the Supreme Leader.”

  “And Cora?”

  “What about her?”

  “She answered my summons for help when I went to save you.”

  “I didn’t see Cora.”

  “Then Elle returned to Doma?”

  Zephra nodded. “She returned. Vel summoned her to assist with a shaping.”

  Tan snorted. The shaping that Vel would have needed Elle’s help with was the same type of shaping that Tan wanted his mother to attempt. In his frustration, Tan went to the door, not looking over at her.

  “Where are you going, Tannen?” she asked.

  “To see what I can do to stop Par-shon.”

  As the door closed, her voice followed him. “You can’t stop Par-shon. Our best hope is to keep them out of our lands.”

  * * *

  Amia caught Tan as he exited the house. Worry lined her face, and her eyes had dark rings around them. Her golden hair was spiraled atop her head, twisted with a thick braid. The gold band on her neck caught the sunlight. One of her fingers ran around the edge of the band.

  “You intend to return,” she said.

  Tan inhaled deeply. “I intend to help Chenir. We have to push Par-shon back, and the only way is to stop them from withdrawing the elementals.”

  “But you’re not certain.”

  Tan hugged her, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “When I faced the warrior, I had to use every ounce of strength that I could summon, and even then I almost wasn’t strong enough to stop him.”

  “You did stop him.”

  “I had help. The elementals came to my aid, but they might not be strong enough against someone like the Utu Tonah.” He hesitated and faced Amia. “I can’t stop him, Amia. He’s too powerful of a shaper. But we can push Par-shon out. Incendin and Doma have done it. Chenir can. The kingdoms can.”

  Tan reached for the sense of Kota and found her roaming the mountains along the border with Chenir. The other hounds were there as well, connected to him distantly. Honl drifted faintly in the back of his mind, and the nymid were like a steady, rhythmic sense deep within him.

  One sense was missing.

  Not that Tan couldn’t sense Asboel. There had been many times when the draasin simply was too far away for him to reach, but this was different. All sense of the draasin was gone, as if he simply wasn’t there.

  “No . . . ”

  Asboel!

  There was no response.

  Tan tried again. Asboel!

  Again, he heard no response.

  He ran toward the lower level of the archives, moving more on a shaping of wind and bounding steps of earth. When he reached the archives, he raced down the steps in the darkness, not pausing to light any of the shapers lanterns. At the bottom of the stairs, he shaped open the door to the tunnels and continued running, sprinting through the tunnels, finally reaching the door to the draasin den.

  Tan shaped it open and ran inside.

  Asboel was there, but he no longer breathed.

  Asgar and the other hatchling sat on either side of him. Asgar glanced up as Tan entered and breathed a streamer of flame at Tan, but he did so without much strength behind it. The flame fell away from Tan harmlessly. The other hatchling backed away.

  Sashari poked her head through the hole in the den, her glowing eyes catching Tan. Maelen, she said, reaching Tan through the fire bond. He has returned to the Mother.

  It is my fault, Tan said. He remembered needing additional strength and the willing way that Asboel had given of himself, lending Tan all the strength that he had remaining.

  He did not blame you. You brought him peace, Maelen.

  Tan ignored Asgar and stepped up to Asboel, moving around until he could see the draasin’s face. His eyes were closed, no longer to look upon the world, no longer able to hunt. Tan rested his hand on Asboel’s cool nose. Tears streamed down his eyes and he blinked them away.

  He had lost so many that he’d cared about over the years, but in some ways, losing Asboel was the hardest.

  I would like to have hunted with him again, Tan said.

  You did, Maelen. This came from Asgar. The draasin stood, and his head brushed the ceiling. He’d grown larger in the few days since Tan had last been here, now equal to Enya. He hunted through your connection.

  It brought him comfort, Sashari said.

  Tan sensed Amia at the doorway. She hesitated before coming in and slipping her arm around him. She mourned with him, feeling the loss nearly as acutely as he did.

  What will you do with him? Tan asked.

  Sashari snorted. He will remain in the den. We will find a new place.

  I will seal it, then, Tan said.

  It is fitting that it should be here, Sashari said.

  Fitting how?

  This is where the Great One hatched, she said. This is where he will rest.

  With that, Sashari snorted and the two hatchlings followed her, leaving Tan alone with his friend. He stood with his hand resting on Asboel’s nose for a long time, remembering when he had first met the draasin, the terror he’d felt, and how different that was compared to now. If only he would have had the chance to soar with him one more time, to hunt with him one more time. If only they would have had more time.

  “He would not want vengeance,” Tan said.

  Amia embraced him. “I don’t think that he ever wanted vengeance.”

  Tan wiped away the tears on his face. “No. He wanted only to serve the Mother. In everything, he was a faithful servant of fire.” Tan lifted his hand from Asboel and took a deep breath. “His work—our work—isn’t done. No matter what my mother thinks, Par-shon must be stopped.” For Asboel, he would find a way to do it.

  Amia was silent. He shared the uncertainty she sent across their bond. How was he to stop Par-shon now that he’d lost one of his bonds? How would he be able to withstand the Utu Tonah without fire?

  24

  Decisions

  The shaping took Tan and Amia to the palace courtyard. Tan shaped through his ring, summoning Roine as he landed and waited. Tan was surprised to learn that it was early. The sun was barely to midday, and cooler than he’d known in some time. The air gusted with the strength of ara. Honl rarely mixed in these days, so changed since Tan had healed him. Perhaps Tan had already lost that bond as well. When would he lose the bond to the nymid? To the hounds?

  Ara, Tan called to the wind, you must convince Zephra to shape the wind away from these lands. He sent an image of the shaping he’d seen in Incendin as well as in Doma. In order to keep the kingdoms safe, ara would need to complete a similar shaping, but Tan suspected it needed to be guided by a shaper, someone like Zephra, or Alan.

  Roine appeared as Tan finished sending his request to ara. He appeared from a smaller door in the palace and was dressed in simple pants and a dark green shirt. His sword hung from his belt.

  “Tannen. Your mother didn’t think that you’d be up for days.”

  Tan debated telling Roine about what had happened to Asboel, but what would it change? He had n
ever shared the connection to the draasin, had never understood the true importance of the bond. “My mother doesn’t understand the connection to the elementals,” he said.

  Amia tugged on his hand, but the hurt from losing Asboel burned within him.

  “Zephra is bonded to one of the elementals, Tan. I think that she understands them as well as any.”

  “She should understand them, but I wonder if she listens.”

  Roine smiled, and it diffused some of the frustration that Tan was feeling. “Your mother has never been particularly good about listening, Tannen. I doubt that you will change her now.”

  “She thinks that the barrier should be replaced as soon as Chenir withdraws.”

  Roine glanced toward the palace and then sighed. “That is my suggestion. I think she is only offering what I have suggested that we do.”

  “But you know what will happen if Chenir withdraws,” Tan began. “You know how much will be lost if we allow that to happen.”

  “That was before I saw what Par-shon brought to these shores. Tan, I don’t begin to know how they have managed to trap and bond so many shapers, but they have numbers that we can’t even begin to dream about. Even when the university was at its strongest, we didn’t have that many. And each of their shapers is bonded to at least one of the elementals. Do you have any idea how powerful that makes them?” Roine touched the hilt of his sword. “When you left, we were barely able to hold them back. Cora and Elle helped, as did the hounds, but we were overpowered. We had to withdraw. Without the separation that Chenir created by their shaping, we wouldn’t have made it. The Supreme Leader—”

  “What of the Supreme Leader?”

  Roine shook his head. “He did not make it back to his people. Another was chosen. At my urging, they continue their separation. That was their price for taking refuge in the kingdoms. It gives them—and us—the time we need to prepare.”

  “That separation is how they withdraw the elementals,” Tan said.

  “Isn’t that what you want?” Roine asked. “Don’t you want to keep the elementals safe? If they’re withdrawn from Chenir, we can get them beyond the borders, and then they will be safe. The barrier can keep Par-shon’s shapers on the other side.”

  “For how long, Roine?” Tan asked softly. “How long until they attack us from the sea? How long until they’ve conquered Doma and Incendin, too?”

  “This will buy us time,” Roine said.

  “No, it gives them a chance to become stronger.” That was the greatest risk. With every elemental that was lost, with every forced bond, Par-shon became stronger. They had nearly a thousand shapers now; what would happen when they had two thousand? Ten?

  It wouldn’t stop. Tan understood that now. He didn’t know what lands were out beyond the sea, but he could imagine Par-shon continuing to push their influence, capturing more and more elementals until there was no one able to oppose them. Those peoples would suffer, but so too would the elementals.

  Tan would find a way to keep them from these lands—all of these lands.

  “Is the Supreme Leader still here?” Tan asked.

  Roine glanced to the palace and shook his head. “He has returned to his people. We seek a treaty. The kingdoms will grant safety, but not lands, and they will be beholden to our laws. It’s much like what we’ve done with the Aeta,” he said to Amia. “Why do you ask?”

  “They can push Par-shon out, much like Doma and Incendin push Par-shon out.”

  Roine crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. “I wish I could believe that was all that we needed, Tannen, but we need to keep our people safe. The barrier will buy us time.”

  “Until when?” Tan asked, but he waved away Roine’s attempt to answer. “What happens when Par-shon defeats our barrier? Incendin managed to overcome it, and they had nothing like the horrible strength that Par-shon has.”

  “Tannen—”

  He shook his head and turned away, leaving Roine standing alone. He hurried down the street, making his way toward the archives. There might be something he could still do. He’d refused for so long, but if not now, when would he attempt to use the artifact?

  “Where are you going?” Amia asked.

  “It won’t work if we don’t all push Par-shon away, and if the kingdoms won’t help, there’s only one way that I can think of to stop Par-shon,” Tan said.

  She shook her head. “You’re the one who told me that we couldn’t use it, Tan. That it was damaged. You said it can’t be repaired.”

  “Maybe I was wrong,” Tan said. “If I can find a way to restore the artifact—”

  Amia pulled on his arm. “Tan, think of what you’re saying. Even if you repair it, do you think that you can control the artifact any better than Althem did? Do you think that you’re going to use that power wisely? You’re upset and you mourn the loss of Asboel, but this isn’t the way to honor his memory.”

  Tan lifted them both on a shaping of wind, carrying them toward the university. As they landed in the circle, Tan realized that much of the construction on the building seemed to be complete. Stone walls rose several stories high. Windows set into the stone peeked out into the courtyard. No longer did Tan sense the effect of shaping all around him working on the building; what he sensed now was something different. This was shaping, but different, and with less control than any of the master shapers would manage, more like Tan’s faltering shaping had been when he first came to the university.

  Voices called out, and he realized that the university had reopened. Ferran’s construction was finally complete after months of work. Now the students who had been housed in the palace, those who Roine had found, mostly the heirs of Althem, ran through the halls of the new university. Some played in the yard and watched him as he landed, eyes going wide as a shaper appeared. He heard them speaking in hushed tones about the Athan, and overheard whispers of some of the things that Tan had accomplished.

  He paused, wishing that he would have the time to teach in the university, or at least that he would have had the opportunity to have known it as it was. When he’d come here, there had been no time for him to experience it; he’d needed to find a way to help Elle and then stop the archivists from attacking the city and destroying Amia. What must it be like to be so innocent but understanding that you would one day have the ability to shape?

  “You never had that, did you?” Amia asked him.

  Tan shook his head. “I knew I was a senser, but my ability to shape came to me later than most. I don’t even know if my father ever knew that I’d be able to shape.”

  Many of them were the result of the king’s spirit shaping that he’d used to take advantage of those who trusted him. None of these children would have parents who would be able to teach them the lessons that Tan had learned. They would need to rely on the masters, shapers like Ferran.

  As Tan thought of him, the earth shaper appeared through one of the doors. He was simply dressed, in a dark brown shirt and pants, with a solid smile on his face. His eyes had changed to a flinty gray, different than they had been when Tan had first met him, but so, too, had his demeanor. Then, Ferran was more interested in learning where the students came from and less in teaching. It was that way with all of the instructors, from what Tan had seen. Now, Ferran looked at each of the children in the yard with a warm and welcoming expression. He shaped a steady shaping through the earth, sending a rumbling request to the children as he summoned them back inside. When Ferran saw Tan, he waved.

  The children squealed and ran toward Ferran. He guided them through the door and into the university, waving one more time to Tan before disappearing behind a door.

  “He is good with them,” Amia noted.

  “Golud has changed him.”

  “The elementals change everyone, you’ve said.”

  Tan sighed. Asboel had certainly changed him. The draasin had made him confident and taught him to respect the pull of fire, but he’d also taught him the value of the hunt and the need to kee
p the elementals safe. Honl had taught Tan that he needed to continue searching for answers, and that the bond was all about understanding. He suspected the nymid’s greatest lesson was simply the ability to recognize other elementals. Through the connection to water, he recognized that there were other powers greater than him. It had been that way since Tan had first met the nymid. And now the hounds. What would Kota teach him?

  “The bond changes everyone,” Tan said.

  “And our bond?” Amia asked.

  “You don’t think it has changed you?” he asked.

  Amia smiled and stood on her toes to kiss him on the cheek. “The bond has changed me. I sometimes wonder what I would have been like had we not met, but then I remember that I would probably not have survived without meeting you. I think the Great Mother blessed me in many ways when we began our journey together. Think of how much we’ve learned since we first sought the artifact.”

  “You don’t think I should try to fix it.”

  “I think that you should do what you think is right. I trust your judgment, Tan.” She touched the ring on his finger and twisted it. “Roine trusts your judgment as well.”

  “We can’t defeat Par-shon,” Tan said. “And I can’t defeat the Utu Tonah.”

  “Are you certain? He might have bonded the elementals, but you can use their strength. You are able to borrow from them. You are capable of so much more than the bond.”

  “Without Asboel, I’m not sure that I can.”

  She smiled at him and touched his face where she’d kissed him. “You are more than any single elemental. I think that even Asboel recognized that.”

  He sighed, listening through spirit and earth, enjoying the sounds of the children running through the university and the sense of the people in the city. There was life here, and power within that. If Par-shon attacked, how much of that would change? How would these people change?