Servant of Fire (The Cloud Warrior Saga Book 7)

by D. K. Holmberg

  Tan couldn’t let something happen without trying to stop it. More than anything, that was the reason the Great Mother had called him to serve.

  “All we need to do is keep him out,” Tan started. “Return the elementals to Chenir, and they can shape as Doma does. If the kingdoms do the same—”

  “And then what?” Amia asked. When Tan didn’t answer, she pressed, “He grows stronger. I sense it somehow. As he does, everything changes. This cannot only be about keeping him from the kingdoms.”

  “And Chenir. And Doma. And Incendin.”

  “Sooner or later, he will have to be stopped.”

  Tan looked around, wishing he knew of some way that would work, but the only thing he could come up with led to him facing the Utu Tonah alone, and he wasn’t certain that he could. “I don’t think I can.”

  He took Amia’s hand and started out of the university, making his way down streets that had been repaired since the lisincend and the draasin attack. The streets were noisy and filled with carts and people. He saw clothing of all kinds and was reminded of his first night in the city, when he’d seen people from Xsa Isles and Chenir. He remembered thinking how impossible it was that so many people were in the city, that so many from outside the kingdoms had come here. It had been months since he had noticed people of different nationalities here. Within the kingdoms, everyone came together to trade, but especially here in Ethea. Perhaps Roine was right that Chenir should be allowed in and that the barrier could hold out Par-shon. Maybe all they needed was a little longer to find some way to stop the Utu Tonah.

  He entered the archives. As he made his way to the lower level, he took the time to light shaper lanterns, giving the walls a dark glow and casting back the shadows. The first time he’d been down here, he’d been chased by an Incendin shaper. Now, Incendin shapers were his allies, and he would even call one a friend.

  At the bottom of the stairs, he entered the room where he’d stored the artifact. He pushed open the case. It was long and slender and made of the same deep gray metal that he’d seen in the pool of the Mother, almost as if the shapers from long ago had managed to coax the Mother into maintaining the shape. Runes were etched along its surface. Now that he’d learned to read them, he recognized how the runes marked each of the elementals. Tan wondered if they were the elementals that had been involved in the creation of the artifact.

  There was fire. Not the draasin, though they had protected the artifact, drawing from their fire to create the pillar that had prevented others from reaching it. The runes were not for inferin, saa, or saldam. Tan recognized that it indicated fire, but not which elemental had gone into its making.

  It was the same for earth. He could make out the rune and knew that it signified earth, but it was not the rune for golud, or nodn, or even for the hounds, though he would have been surprised had those ancient shapers used the hounds. Water and wind were much the same.

  Only spirit was the same rune that he’d seen, though there was no elemental for spirit. The only elemental that Tan had ever come close to seeing was the pool of spirit. “I don’t know what I was thinking,” he said, tracing a finger over the runes.

  Amia looked over his shoulder. Her shoulders were tense, as if she was afraid to touch the artifact, but she was willing to study it. She’d held it before, but that was before any of them knew how powerful a creation it was.

  Tan thought of the book he’d taken from the hut. Part of the hope he’d felt had stemmed from the possibility that he might find the secret to repairing the artifact, but now he wasn’t as certain that would even matter.

  “It might not be any more useful than my sword,” he said, tapping it. He was thankful that he hadn’t lost it when battling the warrior in Chenir. He’d had it unsheathed when he’d fallen and hadn’t bothered to ask his mother if she had grabbed it or if he’d simply been unwilling to let go of it. “It’s the elementals,” he said. “It’s always been about the elementals. When I used it with Althem, I was bound to fire but borrowed from the nymid, golud, and ashi.” He’d thought it was ara at the time, but he had learned that it was really Honl when he had first summoned. “Without fire and without spirit, I don’t know that I can control it.”

  “You never controlled it.”

  Tan looked up and saw Roine standing in the doorway to the archives. His brow was creased and he looked at Tan with worry in his eyes.

  “I don’t think you did anything other than stop Althem.”

  “I healed the draasin,” Tan said. He should have done the same again, only Asboel hadn’t wanted him to attempt anything more than he had. The draasin understood that there were things that he couldn’t change. Maybe he welcomed the return to the Mother.

  “Was that you, or was that the elementals?” Roine asked.

  Tan shook his head. The elementals hadn’t been able to heal Asboel this time, but maybe it was different. That had been an attack by Althem. Asboel’s injury now was from an elemental. “I thought it was me.”

  “I’ve been thinking about this as well.” He reached for the artifact and took it from Tan, running a finger along the long crack that had formed in it when Tan tried to understand how it was made. His eyes narrowed slightly and he shook his head. “The artifact is powerful. We know that. But we also now know that the shapers of that time weren’t the benevolent shapers that we thought them to be. They were willing to harness elementals, and they were willing to experiment on them as well.”

  Roine closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. “I’d always thought that they were what I aspired to become. The stories of the ancient shapers were always impressive, the feats that they accomplished always more amazing than anything that we could accomplish, but they did it through ignorance that I would not have us repeat.”

  “Not all of them,” Tan said, thinking of the hut in the middle of the swamp. It had given him hope that not all the ancient shapers had been the same. “I don’t know how to stop them, but we can keep them out until we do.”

  Roine nodded. “Neither do I, but weren’t you the one who tried to teach me that we can’t repeat the mistakes of the past?” He smiled. “There is wisdom in that lesson, Tan, more than I was willing to see and understand at the time. I think that I understand it now.”

  “But you continue to want the barrier in place. Isn’t that a mistake of the past?” Tan asked.

  “I think the mistake there was in not understanding it. The barrier was a creation of Lacertin’s. Most of us forgot that, myself included. Without him, I don’t know that we are able to control what it filters through, but we can create safety around our borders. All of our borders, at least until we understand a way to stop Par-shon. If we’re careful, we can lower sections if needed to allow access to Doma.”

  “What about Incendin?”

  “Do you think that Incendin wants to reach us? Do you think that they will help?”

  “Cora has helped several times already. When can we accept the fact that Incendin is different than what we knew?”

  “Cora is not all of Incendin. Cora is not the lisincend.”

  “And the lisincend are not the lisincend that you knew,” Tan said.

  Roine clapped Tan on the shoulder. “This is my decision, Tannen. I need your support. I might even need your help to make sure it happens.”

  Tan glanced at Amia but couldn’t answer.

  25

  Request to Old Enemies

  Tan sat in the lower level of the archives, holding the broken artifact and trying to understand why it had been created, when the summons came. Amia had left him to return to the wagons outside the city. The Aeta needed their First Mother, though Tan sensed her reluctance in leaving him. He flipped through the book that he’d found in the hut in the middle of the swamp, trying to make sense of the Ishthin and understand what had motivated the shaper who had written it, hoping to ease the aching inside him. So far, he hadn’t been able to make sense of it.

  The rune coin pulsed in his pocket and
he pulled it out, glancing long enough to realize that it was wind that summoned. Zephra. Tan thought it odd that his mother would summon him, especially after the way things had been left between them, but then, she never summoned him.

  He made his way to the traveling circle in the university. Daylight was fading, leaving the sun sending shafts of light filtering around the city buildings, creating something of an orange glow around everything that reminded him of looking through Asboel’s sight. There were no young shapers out, though a few candles flickered in windows.

  Tan pulled a shaping toward him and exploded away from the city on a warrior shaping.

  He followed the summoning coin, letting it guide him, and emerged on the edge of Nara.

  Zephra waited for him there. She floated on a shaping, Aric holding her in place as she looked out past the border of Nara and into Incendin. Tan felt the building energy of the barrier, though he didn’t see the shapers creating it. It had grown more powerful since the last time he’d sensed it. Soon, it would be as strong as it had been before it had fallen to Incendin.

  “You summoned me, Mother?” Tan asked.

  She waved a hand toward Incendin. “What do you see?”

  Rather than arguing, Tan humored her and stared into Incendin. He stretched toward Incendin with spirit and earth, but found that the barrier blocked him. Tan frowned. If the barrier prevented him from even sensing beyond the border, would it prevent him from reaching Cora? Would it prevent him from knowing if the elementals on the other side of the barrier needed help?

  He used a shaping of water that he’d seen Elle use and created a shaping that allowed him to look into Incendin. With the shaping, he saw the reason his mother had summoned him to Nara, and the reason that she hadn’t called any others.

  There were lisincend on the other side of the border.

  Tan counted nearly a dozen, and one was larger than the rest. At first he thought that it was Fur, but he realized that it wouldn’t be. Fur would be focused on remaining in the Fire Fortress, and would be focused on trying to maintain the shaping that prevented Par-shon from reaching their shores. But the lisincend that he saw resembled Fur.

  “Issan,” Tan said.

  “You know them?”

  “I healed all the lisincend, Mother.”

  “They do not seem pleased.”

  Tan noticed that there was a sense of agitation from them. Issan had been the most vocal about his irritation with Tan for bringing him back into the fire bond, but there had been others like him. What if Issan had found a way to return to the twisting of fire? What if he intended to oppose Fur?

  “If I cross the barrier, what will happen?” he asked.

  “Nothing will happen to you. You are of the kingdoms.”

  Tan didn’t think that it worked quite like that. “Will it prevent me from returning?”

  “Tannen, as I’ve said, you are of the kingdoms. The barrier is not meant to prevent shapers of the kingdoms from crossing her border.”

  “What if it decides that I’m not of the kingdoms?” Tan asked.

  “The barrier isn’t sentient,” Zephra answered. “And you wear the ring of the Athan. I think that you’ll be fine.”

  If he wasn’t? If he was trapped and unable to return? He doubted his mother would lower the barrier to allow him to pass. But he needed to know why Issan had come.

  Tan shaped himself across the barrier.

  On the other side, the heat of Incendin changed. It was warmer than he remembered, warmer even than it had been in Nara, though they should be similar. Tan floated on a shaping of wind mixed with fire and reached the lisincend. He remained in the air, staying above Issan until he knew what the lisincend intended.

  The lisincend noticed Tan immediately. Fire shot toward him, but when it struck Tan, it did nothing more than shift him in the air. Tan lowered himself to stand next to Issan, but remained far enough away that the creature couldn’t reach him.

  “The warrior returns to attack again?” Issan said.

  “Not to attack. I wanted to know what brought you here.”

  “This is all part of the Sunlands. Have you got Fur so far under your thumb that we cannot be here, either?”

  Tan frowned. “I don’t have Fur under my thumb at all. Had he been, he would have helped when I faced Par-shon.”

  The lisincend hissed at the mention of Par-shon.

  “Where did you face Par-shon?” Issan demanded.

  “Chenir. They have settled in Chenir, much like they attempted in Doma.”

  Issan turned and looked toward the north. His nostrils flared, and Tan felt a surge of fire from him, as if he reached through the fire bond. Tan wasn’t sure that the lisincend knew how to reach through the fire bond, but when Issan turned back to Tan, his thin lips were pulled into a sneer. “You leave Chenir to face them alone yet come to the Sunlands to taunt Issan? You are not as mighty as Fur believes, Warrior.”

  “I would have remained,” Tan began, “but there were too many.”

  Issan laughed. Steam hissed from him as he did. “Too many for a warrior like yourself, but not too many for Issan.”

  “Chenir is dangerous. There are nearly a thousand from Par-shon within their borders.”

  Issan’s demeanor changed. The steam eased and he leaned toward Tan. “Does Fur know this?”

  “Fur didn’t answer my summons. Only Corasha Saladan answered.”

  At the mention of her name, several of the lisincend made deep, hissing noises. Tan wondered what Cora had done to anger the lisincend. Whatever it was, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

  “The kingdoms place a barrier around themselves again. You think to prevent Par-shon from reaching you. What of the Sunlands?” Issan asked.

  “I have asked Theondar to consider the need for the barrier—”

  “Theondar,” Issan said with a snarl, “thinks nothing of the Sunlands.”

  “Why have you come here, Issan?” Tan asked.

  The lisincend glanced behind him at the others. “Fur thinks that he can control us now that fire now longer sings within our veins. We are those who would still serve as fire requires.”

  “And you have come here to learn what fire wants of you?”

  “We have come to learn.”

  “You would rather face Par-shon?” Tan asked.

  Issan sneered at him again. “You choose not to face Par-shon but you ask if the lisincend will?”

  “As I said, I can’t do it alone. But with help,” he began, “there might be more that we can do.” Roine wanted to keep the borders safe, but doing so meant that places like Doma and Incendin were in danger. What if Tan went around what Roine wanted? What if he took it upon himself to complete what needed to be done?

  Tan could get the elementals to help, but he would need shapers able to counter the sheer numbers that Par-shon possessed. There were dozens of lisincend, each powerful fire shapers. Doma had shapers, and more than he had expected. If Chenir would use their shapers, they had a unique strength, different than any other shaper in the way that they were able to connect to the elementals. All that left were the kingdoms’ shapers.

  Tan glanced over to Nara, toward his waiting mother. After what she’d been through, he doubted that she would help. Others might. Tan could call to Cianna through Sashari and the fire bond. He might be able to reach other shapers bonded to the elementals, but would there be enough to make a difference?

  Maybe.

  Knowing what Par-shon did to Chenir, how they poisoned the land, he knew what he had to do. It was what Asboel would have wanted him to do.

  “If you would face Par-shon, convince Fur to help. Let us stop waiting for Par-shon to attack, and let us finally take the fight to them.”

  Issan flared with heat for a moment. “Why should I work with a kingdoms shaper? It is your fault that I no longer burn.”

  “You control it now. Is that not better?”

  “No.”

  “Then do it for the Sunlands. Do it be
cause if you do not, Par-shon will move through Doma next, leaving only the Sunlands remaining. Do it to show Fur that you deserve his respect.” Tan added the last without knowing what effect it would have on him, and the response from Issan told him that he’d read it correctly.

  “You have even stolen the hounds,” Issan said.

  “Not stolen. Did you even know they were elementals? Did you even know how powerful they could be?”

  The other lisincend behind Issan began murmuring.

  “Come. I will convince Chenir to fight. Doma already resists. You must convince Fur to answer if I summon.”

  Issan glared toward the kingdoms, and heat radiated from him. “You say this only to destroy the lisincend.”

  Tan created a shaping of each element that slammed into the ground next to Issan. “Had I wanted to destroy you, I never would have attempted the healing. Be thankful that you have a chance to serve, Issan. That is all that fire asks of you.” Tan turned his attention to the other lisincend and spoke loud enough for them all to hear. “Par-shon is the enemy. Not the kingdoms, not Doma, and not Fur. We can work together and have a chance, or we can shut each other out, and we can all fall separately. They come in numbers and steal the elementals from our lands. If we do nothing, we all will fall. Perhaps not today, but it will happen. If we work together, we might do more than survive.”

  With that, Tan shaped himself back toward Nara where Zephra waited, leaving the lisincend to watch him depart.

  The barrier tingled over his skin, and it felt something like sliding through thick mud as he passed through. His mother had thought that he shouldn’t have trouble passing over the barrier, but Tan wondered how much longer that would be the case, especially if he made it clear that he would work against Roine’s wishes. What would that make him? Something other than of the kingdoms, but what?

  Zephra waited with her hands on her hips, one foot tapping impatiently. “Why have they gathered?”

  “Not to attack, if that’s the reason that you brought me here,” he said.

  “Are you so certain that they don’t mean to attack?” she asked.