by Jasmine Walt
“Why’d he call you that name?”
She frowned.
“I overheard you after I left. He called you Zephra. That’s the name the Aeta Mother said, too.”
“That is a conversation for another time, Tannen.”
“Why? You want me to serve the king by leading him to the passes, why shouldn’t I know?”
She held his gaze and something changed in her eyes. “Zephra was my name once. That was how he knew me.”
Something dawned on Tan then, a thought so surprising that he wasn’t certain it could be real, but what other explanation fit? “You’re the wind shaper he sought.” He always knew she could sense the wind, but there wasn’t much use to that skill. Not like his father’s earth sensing. But shaping? That was different.
How could she be a shaper? How could he not have known?
She looked as if she wouldn’t answer. Then she sighed and nodded. “When I was known as Zephra, I served the king as a shaper. That was a long time ago.”
“But he said you were powerful. One of the most powerful shapers he’s ever known. How could that change?” Other questions raced through his head but he didn’t ask them, questions like how she could be a shaper and not tell him, or what it was like to shape the wind, or what could she do? Could she call up a tornado? Could she push away a storm? Some wind shapers were even said to practically fly on the wind; could she do that?
She only shook her head. “Everything changed during the war.”
“You were in the war?”
She nodded. “Your father too. We only settled after. Nor was your father’s home, and with the winds of Galen it always felt comforting to me.”
How could he not have known that she was a shaper? First learning that she knew the dead princess and now this? It was like he was learning a whole new side to his mother, a side she wanted to keep from him. “Why haven’t you told me before?”
“Because it didn’t matter. That’s not who I am now. Now I’m just Ephra.”
“You’re a shaper! Why would you want to hide that?”
A sad smile twisted her lips. “For the longest time, all I wanted was to be a shaper. I struggled even catching the wind. And when called by the king, I served willingly in the war. But it changed. I couldn’t do that anymore. Nor was my reward.”
Tan couldn’t think of anything that would make him not want to be a shaper. His sensing was too weak to ever become anything more. He’d never know the power shapers possessed. But his mother…she was a shaper and chose to abandon it. “What could change that would make you want to give up shaping?”
She squeezed his hand. “We had you.”
He didn’t say anything for a long moment. “Is that why you want me to go to the university? Do you think I could be a shaper?” In spite of how he felt about leaving Nor, the idea still gave him a slight thrill. Could he eventually learn to hone his weak earth sensing, turn it into something stronger? Could he become a shaper?
“I always knew I could shape. The wind called me when I was barely seven. It took years before I learned to control it. Some learn later in life. Rarely at your age.”
It was a long way of telling him no. Tan wondered why he felt a hint of disappointment.
“There is more to the university than simply learning how to become a shaper. The Great Mother gifted you as a senser. Your father did what he could to teach you to use that gift, but there are others who could teach you much more about earth sensing.” She sighed again. “But it’s more than that. Had he not died, we still would have wanted you to go to Ethea. You’ve lived your entire life in Nor. There is more to this world than what you’ve seen. After gaining that perspective, if you decide to return, then you won’t ever wonder what else you might have missed.”
It was the same argument they’d had countless times since his father died. Only now he knew she was a shaper. That changed things for him somehow. “Do you miss shaping the wind?”
“Sometimes,” she admitted. “It’s been so long that I can’t even call it consistently. That’s how it is with wind shaping.”
“If I go,” he started, not really thinking he would ever see Ethea, “would you come with me?”
She patted his hand and sighed. “That’s a journey you must take on your own. If I were to go with you, I’d only hold you back. You can’t worry about your mother when you’re studying at the university.”
Tan sensed there was more. “You don’t want to go back.”
She smiled. “It’s been so long since I’ve been in Ethea that I’m not sure I do. I’m a different person now. Not the shaper I was when I last was there. Everything would be different for me.”
Tan nodded. “And Roine? Who was he when you were there?”
Some of the softness to her face faded. “It doesn’t matter who he was then. It matters who he is now. And he’s Athan to the king. He speaks with his voice.”
“That’s not how you knew him.”
She shook her head. “No. He went by a different name then. But as Athan, you need to lead him where he needs to go as quickly as possible. After that, you can decide what you’ll do. Stay or go on to Ethea. If you stay, you’ll have to begin thinking about what you will do next. You can’t stay living in the servants’ quarters. Lind has allowed it for this long, but I doubt he will permit it forever. Serve your king now, but prepare for a decision.”
Tan nodded slowly. “I will help Roine.”
He sensed she wanted him to say more, but he wasn’t willing to. Not to commit to going to Ethea as she wanted. That meant serving the king. But the idea of staying in Nor felt less appealing than before. What would he do if he stayed?
She stood and pulled him into a tight hug. “Travel safe, Tan. If Roine is right and Incendin seeks the same item as him, there could be more danger than you know.”
“I’ll bring my bow.”
She smiled and nodded. “That’ll be good. But always listen. Trust the lessons your father taught you. If something seems amiss…run. Don’t try to fight off the hounds on your own.”
There was a weight to her words. “You’ve faced the hounds before.”
She flicked her eyes toward the mountains and nodded. “They are dangerous. Like so much else in Incendin, they are deadly. Bred to hunt and kill. Don’t try to face even one.” She took his hands. “And if their masters appear, do all you can to escape.”
“Their masters?”
She shook her head and smiled. “A warning is all. As far as I know, the barrier still stands. Roine would have said if it were otherwise.”
Another low howl echoed high up in the mountains. It ended abruptly.
Tan listened for it to return, sensing the forest, but the distance was too great for him to hear anything other than silence.
After what had happened yesterday, it was the silence that worried him.
11
Shattered Wagons
Morning came quickly.
After the conversation with his mother, Tan rested little that night. He tossed and turned, dreams of his mother shaping interrupting his sleep. At one point he awoke in a cold sweat, wondering why she hadn’t been summoned for the king instead of his father. Another question for later, he realized.
A soft knock on his door woke him from sleep. He stumbled out of bed and pulled it open. Roine looked back at him, his deep blue eyes crisp and alert. His silver hair was slicked back atop his head. The short sword hung at his side. A tightly packed bag was slung over one shoulder. He studied Tan for a moment before realization dawned on his face.
“She told you.”
Tan didn’t ask how he knew as he nodded.
“That was a long time ago. We were different people then.”
The words sounded so much like what his mother had said. “I still don’t understand.”
Roine sniffed and reached a hand out as if to pat him on the shoulder before thinking better of it and dropping his hand. It fell onto the hilt of his sword. He sighed. “Pray th
at you don’t. But that’s why I need your help. I need to ensure Incendin doesn’t get strong enough to attack again.”
“What you’re looking for could make them strong enough to attack?”
“What I’m looking for could make them strong enough to drop the barrier.”
The barrier. He knew so little about it other than how shapers built it during the war. The construction somehow pushed Incendin back and out of the kingdoms. It was what prevented the worst of Incendin from attacking the kingdoms. “I don’t know anything about that.”
Roine nodded. “Pray that you don’t. Just know your mother—”
“It seems I know very little about my mother.” Tan didn’t mean to spit the last, and it came out angrier than intended.
Roine blinked. “I’m sorry, Tan.”
“Me too.” He turned away and grabbed his bundle and bow. “Are we walking or riding?” he asked without looking at Roine.
“Can we reach the pass by horse?”
He shrugged, still not looking up. “Equally fast either way. By horse we’d have to stick to the road. Slope is too steep otherwise. By foot we can climb straight up.”
“If it’s no faster by foot, then we’ll go by horse. Lord Lind promised any help we needed…”
Tan pushed past Roine and made his way to the stables. At this time of the morning, it was quiet. Horses whinnied softly. The cool air held the scent of hay and dung. He debated which horses to take before settling on a pair of solid brown mares. Then he moved onto a silver dappled stallion, smiling as he did. Lins preferred this horse.
As he saddled the third horse, Roine coughed. “Only two of us going, Tan. No supplies to carry.”
“I invited my friend Cobin.”
Roine frowned. “I never said anything about another person coming with us. We need to move quickly. A third might slow us down.”
He shook his head. “Not Cobin. He used to hunt with my father. He knows these lands better than anyone. If you’re so worried about an extra person, maybe you should just take him.”
“You don’t want to go?”
Tan thought about what he wanted. Leaving Nor for a while, even as briefly as the week it would take to lead Roine into the upper passes, might be time well spent. And he needed that time away from his mother, time to consider what he’d do with his future.
Cobin saved him from answering. He wore thick leathers and a massive axe slung over one shoulder. He carried his bow in hand. When he saw Roine, he frowned.
“Tan said you needed to reach the passes quickly.”
Roine eyed Cobin for a moment and then nodded.
“Seeing as he’s only been there once, he asked me to help. Consider it a bargain. Besides, he told me Incendin hounds made it into the woods. Might be better to have an extra body if they catch our scent.”
A look passed between Roine and Cobin that Tan didn’t understand. Roine finally nodded. Tan kept the dappled stallion for himself and led them from the stables at a steady walk. Cobin glanced at the horse Tan chose before chuckling softly.
As they left Nor and entered the shadows of the forest, he cast a glance back. The road took them above the town and from here, the angle of the path made small houses and low wall look small. Smoke from a few fires drifted into the sky, but otherwise the town was quiet. Before he turned away, he saw Bal watching him from atop the wall. She wore plain gray pants and a loose-fitting shirt—probably Cobin’s—and waved at him. Tan wouldn’t put it past her to follow them.
The road Roine led them on would eventually lead them to Velminth. Usually two days from Nor by horse, if they rode quickly enough. He wondered if they would reach the Aeta again. He doubted Roine would stop. Velminth was farther south than he intended to go.
They made good time riding mostly in silence, stopping around midday to share jerky and bread Cobin had brought. As they ate, a heavy roll of thunder echoed in the distance.
Roine looked skyward, straining to see into the distance. His head cocked as if listening to something only he could hear. Another peal of thunder rumbled, sounding far away but closer than the last. The wind picked up, whipping dust from the road into their faces.
Roine looked at them. “Storms usually come in this quickly?”
Cobin took another bite of bread. “They can. Weather moves over the mountains and seems to just appear.” He shrugged as thunder crashed again. The sky darkened quickly. “Looks to be a bad one. Haven’t had weather like this in a while. Probably should find shelter.”
Roine looked around, his eyes taking in the trees and steady slope of the mountains. “Where do you suggest?”
Cobin looked at Tan. “There’s a couple of places along the road where we could find some protection. Still going to get wet.”
Roine looked up at the sky again and nodded.
Cobin led them along the road quickly. The wind gusted, pushing against them. Thunder rolled regularly overhead and black clouds moved quickly in the sky. As Tan watched, light exploded in the distance, followed by a loud crack.
“These lightning storms can be dangerous,” Tan shouted over the wind.
“That’s why I’m trying to find an old mine shaft,” Cobin said. “Should be one soon.”
There was another bright flash of lightning followed by an ear-splitting crack. Closer now. And then the rain began. It started as slow drops, heavy and warm, but quickly turned into a hard downpour of tiny needles slicing into their skin.
“How much farther?” Roine asked. He’d pulled the hood of his cloak over his head. In spite of the rain drenching him, he rode tall in the saddle.
“Just around this bend,” Cobin answered.
The rain sleeted down and Tan struggled to see through it. As they made their way up the road, he realized something felt off. He listened, sensing the forest around him, before recognizing what bothered him. Nothing else moved in the forest around them.
A scent of char and sulfur bit through the rain. “There’s something—”
He cut off as they rounded the bend.
Broken and charred wreckage scattered across the road. Painted wood was splintered and debris strewn up and down the road, filling a rent in the forest floor. Random pieces of melted and misshapen steel were scattered across the forest.
It took a moment before he realized what he saw.
Roine unsheathed his sword with a soft ringing of steel. Cobin grabbed his axe.
“What happened here?” he whispered. His horse danced nervously beneath him. “What happened to the Aeta?”
Cobin and Roine sat atop their horses and surveyed the road and destruction around them. Neither spoke. Roine held his sword in hand with a white-knuckled grip. Cobin’s axe twitched in his hand.
“What happened?” Tan repeated.
Roine shook his head as if reluctant to answer.
It was Cobin who finally answered. “Incendin.” His voice was hollow and thin and shook more than he’d ever heard from the large man.
“How many wagons?” Roine asked.
“At least a dozen,” Cobin said. “I don’t know how many Aeta were among them.”
“At least three times that.” Tan looked past the debris, searching for any sign of the Aeta. They had to be close to the abandoned mine shaft Cobin had sought. “How far to the mine?”
Cobin looked back at Tan and met his eyes before shaking his head.
“What do you mean?”
“Too far, Tan,” Cobin said. He didn’t look up to meet his eyes.
“Wait…they’re dead?”
Roine nodded slowly. “As good as.”
Tan stared at the slowly smoldering remains of the wagons. The rain had not completely quenched whatever burned them and the now-steady drizzle left the broken fragments of wagon steaming. The small streams of rainwater runoff were lighter in color now. Thunder still rolled around them and the gray sky overhead matched his mood.
“How?” Tan couldn’t fathom how this destruction was possible.
“Incendin knows only one kind of shaping,” Roine answered. “And their fire shapers are quite skilled.”
“Fire shapers? But how would they have crossed the barrier?”
“I don’t know.”
Cobin watched Roine, a different question on his face.
“I don’t understand. Why attack the Aeta? They’re just traders.”
Roine sucked in a soft breath as he shook his head.
“Did hounds do this?” The idea terrified him, but what else made sense? Both his mother and Cobin warned him about the hounds, but how could hounds—even a pack—destroy a caravan of wagons?
“These aren’t hounds. Hounds are…messier.” Roine paused and looked around the destroyed road. “You said you tracked the hounds? That’s where you saw the Aeta at first?” Tan nodded. “How?”
Tan thought of the difficulty he’d had making sense of the tracks. “It wasn’t easy. Especially when they treed me.”
“Not many men can follow their tracks.” Roine paused as he surveyed the remains of the Aeta wagons. “I knew the hounds were already in the kingdoms. Possibly for days.”
“Not just hounds,” Tan said, remembering the other set of prints. “I saw another set mixed with the hounds.”
Cobin looked at him strangely. Tan hadn’t told him about those prints.
“What type of prints?” Roine asked.
A low cry echoing through the forest kept him from answering. The sound made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Tan recognized it; he’d followed the same sound only days before. He understood why he sensed nothing else in the forest around him, the same absence he’d felt while tracking the prints the other day.
The hound cried again, low and closer. Tan shivered, though not because of the rain. The Incendin hounds had returned.
12
An Unusual Storm
When the braying of the hounds finally stopped, Tan looked at Roine. He sat atop his horse, rain dripping from his face, bright blue eyes piercing the gloom of the forest. He’d slipped his sword back into its sheath.