by Jasmine Walt
You must help the Daughter. Twisted Fire must be cleansed from the land.
They are too powerful for me. This happened, he started, thinking of his injuries, the last time I faced them.
He could barely sense his arms and legs trapped beneath the sand. Even if he were able to move, there was nothing he could do against one of the lisincend. The creatures were powerful. He had nothing like their ability.
The nymid stretched its long glowing arm toward Tan and touched him on the forehead with a thin, faintly glowing finger. A warmth seeped into his head, just under the skin, and worked its way around his neck and down, through his chest and into his buried arms and legs. A surge of energy flooded through him. He would have gasped had he been able to open his mouth to do so.
There was something familiar about their presence, their energy. Tan could not quite place what it was, but recognized it.
Unbidden, the memory of Roine’s blast and their flight over the trees came to mind. He recalled the energy that had seemed to pull at them, guiding them.
You?
The nymid did not answer. There was only a flittering of movement, more imagined than real. Instead, the nymid turned to him. You must help the Daughter.
The sand of the lakebed eased and relaxed and his arms were freed. Something squeezed him from below and he was pushed free, oozing forward. As he was released, he looked down at his chest. A large burn had torn his shirt, leaving much of the cloth singed. The skin underneath that should have been burned was instead unmarked.
The water began to buoy him forward, lifting him out of the water. Tan turned to the nymid that had started to fade.
Thank you.
The nymid smiled. There is no need for thanks. The Mother smiles upon you, as well. There was only a trace of the nymid remaining, a faint glow. You will see, it whispered.
Then Tan broke the surface of the water. The night was dark and the clouds hung low and thick, illuminated by a faint glowing across the water. At first he felt nothing, then a sharp burning began in his chest, tearing through him with a pain unlike anything he had known. Had the healing the nymid worked upon him failed? Had it all only been a dream?
Yet when he looked down, he saw his skin unmarked. He heard a soft voice, like a whisper, come up from beneath him, and he strained against the pain in his chest to hear.
Breathe.
And he understood. After his time under the water, he had forgotten to breathe.
Tan opened his mouth and took a deep and painful breath, like a newborn baby taking its first gasp of air. Cool air entered his lungs. Slowly the pain subsided, fading until it was gone. Tan scissored his legs as he reacquainted himself with the concept of breathing, and his body relaxed.
Tan was able to take stock of where he was. Somehow, he had been thrown far into the lake, practically into the middle. He swam, careful not to make too much noise. He needed to reach Amia, the force of her shaping still compelling him.
Tan scanned the shoreline, searching for what the nymid had shown. Across the faintly glowing water, he saw a nearly identical scene. At the edge of the forest, as far away from the lake that it could be, streamers of flame stretched from the ground nearly twenty feet into the air, staggered only a hand’s width apart and forming a fiery cage. Within the cage Amia hunched, hugging her legs, her head down. Tan did not need to see her hands to know they were tied, nor her mouth to know she was gagged.
Outside the cage of fire sat one of the hounds, larger than any Tan had seen before. The beast sat watching Amia. Even from his distance, the hound’s eyes carried a dark intelligence. There was no sign of the lisincend, but Tan knew it must be near.
Protect me.
The words rang needlessly through his head. Amia looked up suddenly, her dark eyes staring out toward the water. Was it his imagination, or did they widen?
She shook her head slowly, as if warning him away, then looked back down toward her feet.
The hound near her growled softly. The sound carried across the water, a throaty rumble. It stood and sniffed the air and Tan ducked under the cover of the lake, fearful the hound could smell him.
He stayed underwater, swimming slowly toward the shore, carefully coming up only long enough to catch a quick breath before diving down again. He was able to hold his breath longer than he remembered, though wasn’t sure whether that was real or imagined. The light from the cage of fire was visible even underwater as Tan made his way toward the flames, toward Amia, still unsure how he would rescue her alone.
The water gradually became shallower. Now he could touch the bottom of the lake. The ground was different than the sand that held him under. Strands of thick green vines grew from the bottom, sending soft fingers toward the surface. The faint green glowing of the water he’d seen was no longer visible.
Tan peeked over the surface of the water, barely enough to get his eyes and his nose above the surface, and took a deep, slow breath. The air was much warmer here. Somewhere nearby the lisincend waited.
The bright light from the flames making up Amia’s prison made it hard for him to see anything else. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, stretching his awareness, sensing the forest as his father had taught him long ago. The warm air smelled of char and soot. There was no real movement in the night, no animals or wind or even insects; yet Tan did feel something where nothing had been seen before. A void, an emptiness that should not be.
They are unnatural.
He heard the words echoed in his mind, like a whisper, or a memory of a whisper. Tan shivered, knowing the truth to the nymid’s words. Opening his eyes, he focused on the spot where he had sensed the void, peering through the darkness and the distracting bright light of the fire. There he saw a dark smudge different than the surrounding darkness.
Tan squinted in an attempt to block the firelight. Pressure built in his ears. A cool breeze blew in from the lake, and Tan took a deep breath, savoring the change. Where the air hit the dark haze hiding the lisincend, the veil shimmered and lifted, if only briefly. Three lisincend stood near the cage of fire. Two spoke to each other while the third stared toward the ring of fire and Amia, as if holding her prison in place. Fur stood larger than the others, taller and wider.
Fur suddenly stopped, twisting and looking out over the water, and sniffed. “He is here.” His words were dry, like tearing parchment.
Tan froze and slipped back under the water, fearful that he’d been discovered. Holding his breath, he peered through the water and out toward the lisincend. He could do nothing for Amia if he was captured.
“Where?”
The question was muffled as the word carried out over the water and down toward him. Tan heard a rumble of thunder and could almost feel it as it echoed through the valley.
“Out there,” Fur answered. “I can smell his shaping.”
Shaping? Not him then, but worse. Someone else.
What else would the lisincend be sensing? What shaper did they expect?
Tan tilted his head back, barely enough to get his mouth out of the water to take a breath. A loud crack of lightning came and was quickly followed by a long peal of thunder. Light split the sky, and Tan looked at the lisincend. Their attention remained on the clouds.
“He will be displeased,” one of the lisincend hissed.
Fur laughed. “He is always displeased.”
Another blast of lightning followed his words, nearer this time.
“At least we have the girl.”
Fur laughed again and it was a frightening sound. “She lives,” he agreed. “For now.”
The first raindrops hit the surface of the water softly but growing harder, sharper, and building to a downpour. The pressure in his ears had built again and held steady, piercing painfully through his head. A powerful shaping was taking place.
One of the lisincend snarled. “He knows not to come with the rain.”
Fur grunted, then stopped, peering into the dark sky and watching as the rain came toward the
m, growing more violent as it did. The air around the lisincend hissed and sizzled, and steam rose from the creatures where the water struck their skin. The strange fiery cage still burned, and Amia remained trapped inside her hot prison.
“He would not,” Fur said. Heat surged from the lisincend and the air around it popped, turning the rain into a hot blanket of steam.
“He has before.”
Fur turned to the other. His angry eyes seemed like candles flickering. “Only when there was no other way.”
“What then?”
Fur hissed. The sound carried his anger and rage and the night surged again with heat as he did. Tan sensed it clearly from the protection of the water, and felt a swell of its fear.
“Theondar.”
25
Twisted Fire
Tan looked up to the darkening sky. Though he saw nothing but the sheeting rain and darkness above him, his heart leapt in his chest with sudden hope.
The lisincend had said Theondar.
How could Roine have survived the lisincend attack?
Thunder rumbled through the valley in response.
He held his head low and walked along the lake, inching slowly toward where Amia was imprisoned. The hound guarding her paced around the flames, looking from Amia to the night, sniffing the air as it did and growling low in its throat. The streamers of flame stretching from the ground sizzled with the downpour, not weakening even as the rain came harder.
Another crackle of lightning split the sky, followed by the loudest peal of thunder yet. Rain sluiced down and Tan ducked under the water for protection. As he did, a blast of lightning streaked toward the lisincend. It struck the ground in an explosion of earth and water.
Tan pushed his head out of the water and rubbed his eyes. A painful scream, like the splintering of a falling tree, tore through the night as another explosion spewed rocks and spray toward the lisincend.
Theondar?
Was this a warrior in his fury?
Tan needed to reach Amia. Whatever was happening would provide enough of a distraction. If he could slip past the hound, he might reach her.
Another explosion crashed through the night. The lisincend sent blasts of flame and waves of heat at something unseen. The night grew bright with the fury of their attack. Smoke rose from the flames to cover everything in twisting shadows, like the veil of the lisincend.
With his focus on the lisincend attack, Tan almost didn’t see the hound.
It had prowled close to the water, spying him. It sat back on its haunches to stay clear of the water and swiped a long paw at Tan’s face. Wickedly sharp claws whistled too close, almost shaving the surface of his cheek.
He dropped below the surface of the water and grabbed his hunting knife. Determination rolled through him. He had to get rid of the hound to reach Amia.
Tan broke the surface of the water and launched himself forward, the knife held outstretched in his hand. The hound pranced back and Tan landed awkwardly on the ground, nearly at its feet. It surged forward, teeth bared, lunging for his throat.
Tan rolled wildly, struggling to keep his knife in front of him. He came to his feet just as the hound pounced.
Dropping low, Tan hoped to have the hound leap over him, but the hound had timed its jump well. Sharp claws dug painfully into his back as it passed over him, roaring in his ears as it jumped past his head. The hound’s breath smelled of a fetid rot, hot upon his face. Tan stabbed with his knife, frantic. He had less chance of survival the longer the hound attacked.
A pained cry erupted from the hound. The burning on Tan’s back eased.
He spun, clutching tightly to his knife, now slippery with hot blood. The hound backed from him a few steps, the hackles upon its back raised. A long gash along its side oozed blood that steamed as it struck the ground.
The short tail twitched once. Then the hound growled and jumped.
This time, it was not as well timed. Tan turned, thrusting his knife into the hound’s belly as it jumped. He pushed it out and over him, toward the water of the lake.
The hound cried as it struck the water, which bubbled as the hound sank slowly, thrashing and howling wildly.
Tan watched until the beast was no longer visible, fearful that it would spring forward once more. It never did.
He turned to Amia. Pain tore through his back where the hound had gashed his flesh. Warmth and wetness different from the rain ran down his back. Tan ignored the injury. He’d taken too long with the hound. How much longer would the lisincend be distracted?
Amia hunched inside the fiery cage. The rain didn’t seem able to penetrate the cage and she remained dry. Heat unlike anything Tan had ever experienced radiated from the flames and he struggled to near but was pressed back. If he couldn’t pass through the cage, there would be no way he could save her.
“Amia!”
She looked up, a lost and sad expression upon her face. Her eyes were distant, slowly focusing on him. Shaking her head, she spit out the gag. “Tan? How…?”
“There isn’t time. Roine attacked the lisincend. I need to get you out of here.”
She looked over toward the lisincend, knowing immediately where they were. “You can’t,” she said. “This can only be brought down by one of the lisincend. I think Fur himself holds the cage.”
“I need to try!”
Amia shook her head and turned away from him. Her head dropped and she didn’t move.
Taking a careful step forward, he couldn’t do more than that. The heat from the flames pressed him away from the bars of flame, away from Amia.
How could she tolerate the heat, sitting within the center of it all?
Tan paced to the water’s edge, looking for something—anything—to extinguish the flames of the cage. He needed to act quickly.
As he kneeled at the edge of the lake, a faint glowing ran along the shore. He had seen the same glowing earlier, near the nymid. Desperation made him wonder if they could help.
Letting his mind grow blank, he stretched out his senses, not knowing what he would need to reach the water creatures, but he had to try. Tan tried to ignore everything around him: the chaos of the explosions, the crackle of the nearby flames, the pulsating heat threatening to overwhelm him. All of it he pushed out of his mind.
Slowly, hesitantly, he pressed out with his thoughts, remembering like a dream what it had felt like when he had communicated with the nymid. A soft pressure built in his ears and remained.
Nymid. He sent the thought out as a request, focusing a pleading note to the thought. I need your help to save the Daughter.
Tan kept his eyes closed, listening intently, afraid that the noise around him would make him miss any communication from the nymid.
Nothing came. There was only silence within his head.
He opened his eyes and looked out over the water. In spite of the down-pouring rain disturbing the surface, there remained a soft glow toward the middle of the lake, faint and pale and almost imagined. Had Tan not had the memory of his time underwater surrounded by the nymid, he would think nothing of the glowing light. As he stared, the light moved slowly, swimming and undulating almost purposefully through the water.
Tan fixed his focus upon the glowing water, praying quickly to the Great Mother that the nymid would hear him. He had no other idea how to save Amia.
He stretched out his focus toward the light, listening and sensing as his father had taught him, sending his awareness far across the water. Vaguely, he had a distant sense of vertigo. Tan pressed that away, as well.
Nymid! I need your help!
Tan staggered back, exhausted from everything he had been through. The night around him swam and he slumped to the muddy ground, sinking into the muck.
He Who is Tan.
Tan heard the words distantly, an echo in the back of his mind. He looked up, bringing his eyes into focus as he tried to stare at the surface of the water.
The soft glowing light swam toward him, slipping through the
water as if unaffected by the pouring rain. Slowly, the light neared, and Tan felt his strength gradually returning as it did, able to regain his footing and pull himself from the mud as he stood.
Nymid, Tan thought again.
They were nearer and it was not as difficult to send the thought as it had been before. Tan felt only a momentary wave of dizziness that passed quickly.
You called us, He Who is Tan.
There was a hint of surprise that Tan felt as much as heard in his thoughts. He tried to structure his thoughts in a way the nymid would understand. I called. I cannot save the Daughter. Twisted Fire has her trapped in such a way I can’t rescue her.
Twisted Fire, the nymid repeated. The water around the faint light rippled and formed the figure of the lisincend before smoothing.
Suddenly, the water surged up, forming a figure as if standing atop the water. Tan recognized the figure as one of the nymid, a physical manifestation of the creature. The nymid glowed more brightly than before and eyes formed on the watery face, peering around at the destruction littering the shore where the lisincend still battled Roine before turning to Amia’s fiery prison.
You must save the Daughter.
Tan looked from Amia to the nymid. I can’t get past the fire.
The nymid sank back into the water. The pale light swimming slowly in the lake moved closer together, clumping. We will help.
An image formed in his mind then and Tan knew what the nymid would do to help, though not how it would help. As he reached toward the water, the light coated his hand in a soft film. Tan took this and rubbed it across his arms and legs, his chest, everywhere on his body, as the nymid directed him.
What now?
Save the Daughter.
How?
You must trust. The Mother smiles upon you.
The last seemed more distant. The remainder of the light atop the lake slowly swam away from the shore as the nymid returned to the depths of the lake.
Save the Daughter, the nymid whispered again.
The soft light of the nymid on his skin felt like a cool kiss, soft and comfortable. He stepped toward the cage. The flames didn’t feel as hot as they had and he was able to move closer than before seeking the nymid.