by Jasmine Walt
“We need to stop. Rest for the night.”
Amia nodded. Her eyes drooped, though her head turned at any small sound in the night. “Do you think it safe?”
He felt the pull of the words she had spoken to him earlier in the night. Protect me. “I think so.”
She brushed a hand through her golden hair, pushing it away from her face, and looked around the forest. Even the hounds could not be heard any longer. Finally, she nodded.
Trees thinned in places as the ground became increasingly rocky. Dark, low-hanging clouds had been replaced by gray wisps and the moon occasionally lit the forest with muted light, enough for them to move more safely. Rain finally stopped; only occasional light drops still fell on them.
A large cluster of rocks loomed in the distance. Tan pointed, directing them toward it. The rocks could provide a natural defense for the night. As they climbed toward the rocks, Amia struggled to stay on her feet. She was dressed lightly and not at all for the growing cold. Tan worried how she would tolerate the rest of the night.
“We need to get you warm.” He pulled off his cloak. As he draped it around her, she shook her head as if to push him off, but he persisted. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice earlier.”
“I should be apologizing to you.”
He ignored the comment and led her underneath an overhang of rock where the ground was dry. It formed a small ring of rocks, nearly a cave. They sat and she leaned into him for warmth. Both slipped in and out of sleep in the comfort of the other.
A howl woke them both, splitting the night with its cry. Amia looked at him fearfully, renewed terror on her face. This sound was close. Tan raised a finger to his lips, silencing her, and waited for the call to come again. When it did, it was farther away, and he relaxed again.
“A wolf.” The huge wolves that called these mountains their home were nothing to take lightly, but also were not nearly as terrifying as the hounds. The wolves, he knew, would be scared away by a volley of arrows.
Amia pulled away from him, wrapping her arms around her chest. A distant look came to her eyes. Tan understood her loss; he’d experienced the same today. “I wish I could tell you it will be all right, but there’s nothing I can say that will make it better.”
As she looked at him, a strange sensation fluttered through him. Then she smiled. “I know. I’m sorry.”
Tan shook his head. “The lisincend took my mother from me. Destroyed my town.” He tried to block the memory of the crater that had been Nor.
“I’m sorry,” Amia repeated.
Tan frowned and looked at her. “Not you,” he said. “Incendin. The lisincend.”
She looked away from him. “Only because they followed us,” she began, closing her eyes and shivering. When she reopened them, tears had welled up. “We were making our way across Incendin,” she said, starting slowly. “It’d been years since we traveled their lands, but always we had been welcome, and several of my folk remembered the roads well.”
Letting go of her knees, she leaned back against the cool rock and stared into the darkness. “Mother knew Incendin wares would entice trade, so she pushed us. We traveled deeper into Incendin than even the oldest of our folk were comfortable.” She paused, turning briefly to meet Tan’s gaze before turning away again. “We had gone into unknown areas of Incendin when we first came across them.”
She paused and Tan was uncertain whether she would even continue. “The lisincend?”
Amia shook her head. “Not at first. Hounds.” She shivered again with the memory, as if hearing their harsh and painful cry again. “We have come across the hounds before and know how to avoid them. This time was different.”
“How?”
She shook her head. “Always before we have encountered only a single hound at a time. This time they ran as a pack and chased us.”
She fell silent and Tan let it linger for a moment. “Is that why you left Incendin?”
Amia turned to him and there was a look of fear in her eyes, a haunting he’d not seen before. “No. We were able to evade the hounds. It was as we neared the border to your kingdoms that we began to notice signs of the lisincend. The air drier and hotter. The way the wind died. Mother pushed us hard then, hoping to cross before we came in contact with them.”
“How did you cross the barrier?”
She looked at him strangely. “It’s not meant to keep out Aeta,” she said, as if that answered it.
She fell silent again and Tan didn’t press. When she didn’t speak again, he let the silence settle between them until a question came to him. “The Mother spoke to the lisincend about some Accords.”
“She did,” Amia agreed.
“What Accords?”
Amia tilted her head slightly, considering Tan before answering. “How much do you know of the People?”
Tan thought about the question and realized he knew very little. “The Aeta have visited Nor only a few times during my life. I have nothing but happy memories of the visits, the festivities that accompanied the visits, and the Aeta.” He paused, remembering something his mother had said after meeting with the Mother outside Nor. “My mother once said the Aeta were wanderers with a history filled with sadness.”
Amia nodded slowly and took a deep breath, reaching a hand up and pressing back a strand of stray hair. “We are wanderers,” she agreed. “But it was not always so. Once, our story goes, the People lived in a peaceful land, a place of beauty unlike any other. Then we lived as you do, in cities, off the land, and not out of a wagon.” She closed her eyes, as if imagining. When she opened them, there was a relaxed expression upon her face.
“Something happened. Some great event that forced us from our homeland so long ago that its telling is lost, or protected. The Mothers keep the records, and I have not yet been privy to them.” Her eyes grew moist. “And will not now,” she whispered. Amia fell silent for a moment before continuing. “Since we left our lands, we’ve wandered, always peacefully and carrying no weapon save what we need to hunt.”
“What of the Accords?” Tan asked.
“The Accords grant the People a certain protection,” she answered, turning to meet his gaze. “Written and agreed upon long ago by the men and kings of the earliest nations, places like Ter and Vatten and Galen before these lands were all bound under a single throne, they are a promise of peace and fair trade. They have been honored by all lands since.”
“Even Incendin?”
She nodded. “Always Incendin. Even during the war.”
“Then why would they violate the Accords now?”
Amia shook her head, and started to answer when Tan sensed something nearby. He raised a finger to his lips to silence Amia. She frowned at him and the relaxed expression she’d worn left her eyes, replaced by a wild fear.
The compulsion suddenly flared within his mind, the request Amia had made back in Velminth. Protect me.
Signaling her to wait, he crept quietly from the rocks, moving stealthily. As he moved, he let his focus wander and stretched out with his senses, reaching his awareness out toward the trees whispering soft susurrus from the wind, the quiet hoot of the owl, the steady chirp of the cricket, using any disturbance he could sense to help guide his feet.
The wind picked up, cold and biting. A slow pressure built in his head, the same that he’d felt the last few days. Muscles tensed with subconscious fear, worry about Incendin hounds and the lisincend threatening to break his concentration. He forced away those fears. The hounds never moved quietly and the cool night air made the lisincend unlikely. Ahead he sensed something amiss, a void in what should be the noise of the night. Tan froze.
Moving as quietly as he could muster, he crept toward the nearest tree, hugging its rough trunk, before ducking from tree to tree toward what he sensed.
Then a dark shape was visible. Tan scrambled quietly into the nearest tree and climbed onto the lowest limbs. He held his body away and tight so he wouldn’t be outlined in the night’s shadows.
Protect me.
The thought suddenly surged to the front of his mind and he reached to quietly unsheathe his knife, holding it tightly in his free hand. As the shape passed beneath him, he dropped, shouting a warning while mindless of the harm he placed himself into, only aware of the need to protect Amia.
The figure below turned with amazing speed and blocked his knife, throwing Tan to the ground. He dropped with a hard thud. The wind knocked from his lungs.
Tan’s vision grew hazy. A dark shape loomed over him, holding a sword pointed down at his chest. The figure reached up a free hand and pulled back a hood, holding the sword leveled at Tan’s chest.
Relief flooded through him. Roine had found them.
The only question Tan had was: How?
20
Another Shaper
“Did Cobin make it?” Tan whispered.
Roine shook his head, his dark eyes darting around him, scanning the forest for movement. Tan stretched out his senses yet felt nothing unusual. Roine looked at him quickly, a strange questioning expression to his eyes, but said nothing.
“Did you see him?” Tan asked again.
“No,” Roine answered quickly.
“Do you think the hounds got him?”
Roine shook his head without pausing to consider the question. “I doubt it. I drew them off.” His voice was barely more than the sound of the breeze yet Tan heard it clearly.
Tan stared at the dark stranger for a long moment, thankful that at least Cobin and Bal would reach safety. “The lisincend—” he began, but was cut off.
“Not here,” Roine whispered, motioning for Tan to lead.
Tan nodded, questions crawling through his tired mind, yet he left them unasked and led Roine toward the rock cluster, sensing his way back to the shelter in the fading darkness. Roine said nothing, leading the horses forward. A slight limp slowed him.
Roine nodded upon reaching the rocks, as if giving approval for their shelter. Tan walked him into the crevasse where Amia waited. She sat up quickly as he entered and her gaze flickered nervously to Roine before turning to Tan. A question burned in her dark eyes.
Roine turned upon entering and looked at Tan. “This is it? She was the only captive?”
“There were others.”
Roine exhaled slowly. “What happened?”
“I crept into the town after you and Cobin had ridden off. Only a few men remained. Something happened to the south and even they ran off. The cage held six Aeta—”
“Six?” Roine interrupted, looking over to Amia and considering her for a moment.
Tan nodded.
“None from Nor?”
Tan closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to suppress the surge of emotion that threatened him again. “There was one from Nor,” Tan answered. “Lins Alles, the lord’s son who attacked me.He said he worked with the Incendin.” Tan paused, pushing away the brief anger rising in him at the thought by taking a deep breath. “There were no others from Nor, though.”
Roine watched Tan and reached toward him, as if thinking to reassure him, but Amia was there first and placed a soft hand on his shoulder.
“That’s how they came across, then. They needed someone on this side of the barrier to help. I should have expected that.”
“He said they promised him power.”
Roine shook his head. “He’ll never see it. That’s not the Incendin way.” He paused, cupping his chin as he thought. “You said there were others? How did only you two escape?”
“After I opened the pen, Lins ran and we headed toward the stream. I thought we could follow it out of Velminth and use the water as a way of masking our scent from the hounds.”
Roine nodded. “That might have worked.”
“We never made it to the stream. One of the lisincend caught us.”
Roine frowned. “You were attacked by a lisincend? And you survived?”
“The Mother helped,” Tan answered, then shivered as the memory of the burning Aeta flashed through his mind. “She distracted the lisincend.”
“The Mother?” Roine asked as he nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose she would try. What did she say?”
“She mentioned someone named Fur. The lisincend seemed to fear or respect Fur. That didn’t stop it from killing the other Aeta. It was only because of a sudden storm that we escaped.” Tan looked at Amia, whose expression looked withdrawn as she relived the experience. “Otherwise we would have suffered the same fate.”
Roine looked at Amia for a long moment, staring at her with calculating eyes. The pressure in the air slowly built and Tan felt his ears pop as it quickly disappeared. “Fur?” Roine finally said, and Tan nodded. Roine let out a long sigh. “That…is unfortunate.”
“Who’s Fur?”
Roine motioned Tan to sit. They were cramped now, the small space that had been cozy with just he and Amia was now crowded with another person and two horses. Tan was forced to press close to Amia, and he did so willingly.
“Fur leads the lisincend,” Roine said as they settled. “As much as any can truly lead them. Some think he was the first.”
“First what?” Tan asked.
“Lisincend. So little is truly known about the lisincend. Some think they are immortal, others are not as sure. One thing we know is that Fur has always led the lisincend. And Fur serves the Incendin throne in his own way.”
“What do you mean?”
“The lisincend don’t always serve the king as he would wish. From what I know, they’ve long been felt to have their own agenda, but Fur manages to lead them, to bend them to his will, and it is his will to serve the throne. That makes their chasing of the Aeta especially worrisome.”
Amia stared at Roine and said nothing, but now her eyes widened as an understanding passed through them. Tan looked from her to Roine.
“You think the Incendin king sent the lisincend after the Aeta.”
Roine nodded slowly. “I don’t know.” He hesitated. “I know Incendin wants the same artifact, but the Aeta…that means they know something.” He roughly scrubbed a hand through his hair, fatigue and agitation plain upon his face. “This artifact…it is powerful. Powerful enough to destroy the barrier. Enough to defeat our shapers.”
“What is it?”
Roine sighed. “Well, that’s just it. Only Althem knows for sure. His archivists discovered its existence, and he sent me for it. I know little other than that it’s an ancient item, infused with power by some of the earliest warrior shapers. I don’t even know what it’s called.”
Tan frowned. “How has it never been found?”
“There’s the question, isn’t it? Finding it is more complicated than that.” He reached into his bag and set a golden box in front of Tan, the same box Tan had seen before. “This was also shaped by the ancient warriors, infused with all the elements.” He looked at Amia. She turned away, unwilling to meet his gaze. “From what the archivists have learned, it serves as a compass, guiding the bearer toward the artifact.”
Tan looked at the box. It was shaped with five sides as he had seen before and seemed made of solid gold. There were carvings in the surface and along the sides—he saw leaves and trees and moon and stars—made with incredible detail. Small etchings of vaguely familiar figures were made in each corner. At the center was a raised circle with a five-pointed star, each point of the star pointing toward one of the corners of the box.
“What is it?”
“The box is simply a vessel.” He ran his fingers along its carved surface. “Though a vessel of its own type of power. This power is directed to finding the artifact. Was,” he corrected.
“‘Was?’”
“The archivists think the artifact was intentionally lost and the box was made to help find it.” He paused, considering his words. “They were designed as a set, like a lock and key, but the shaping is imperfect. I can no longer make it work.”
Had Roine just admitted that he was a shaper? If that was the case, why hadn’t he attacked
the lisincend? “I don’t understand.”
“The shapers who made this had power unequaled in centuries. They were trained as no shaper has been trained in nearly four centuries, working with the elementals to craft their shapings. Those shapers could call upon power unlike anything seen since.” Roine looked down at the box. “So I must believe the shaping was correct and that I’m not using it correctly. And sometime during the run from Velminth, it took damage.”
“How do you know?”
“This is what guided me toward Galen. Toward Velminth. Always pointing into the mountains. Only…now it no longer points toward anything.”
“Can you fix it?” Tan asked.
Roine eyed the box for long moments. “I wouldn’t know how to begin.”
Tan frowned. “What kind of shaper are you, Roine?”
Roine only smiled in answer, saying nothing as he took the golden box from Tan’s hands and placed it back with his saddlebags. Then he turned and stared openly at Amia. She looked away. The small voice again sang out in his head, like a quiet whisper, yet a command nonetheless.
Protect me.
“How will you find the artifact now? If this device, your key, is broken, how do you expect to find it?”
“When I discovered the device was no longer working, I thought the search would be over. Now I’m no longer certain.”
“Why?”
Roine turned to Amia. “I think she can help.”
Amia looked up, a defiance burning in her eyes. Her hands clenched tightly at her sides, gripping the brightly colored pants she wore. “You’re mistaken,” she answered softly. A hint of strength had returned to her words.
“Am I?” Roine asked.
Amia nodded once, relaxing a hand and bringing it to her still damp hair, smoothing it as she pulled it back from her face before crossing her arms over her chest. “You are.”
“What is this?” Tan demanded, sliding a step closer to Amia. Whatever was happening between them, Tan was not about to let Roine threaten Amia. After everything she’d experienced, he couldn’t shake her request to keep her safe, even if it meant keeping her from Roine.