I have not seen this before, Sashari said.
Would Asboel have known?
Maelen…
Would he?
He was the eldest of us, but even he might not have known. The draasin had nearly faded from the world when you brought us back. You serve the Mother returning the draasin, but even in our time, there were not many remaining.
Why?
I do not remember. The time… time has changed my memories. They are faded. I remember Asboel and Enya, but that is because we remained together. I remember the connection to the Mother, and the cold suppressing our connection to the fire bond. But there is nothing else, Maelen, until you released us.
The draasin rarely spoke of the time they had spent frozen in the lake. Tan was surprised that Sashari had mentioned it now. From Asboel, he knew that the draasin had suffered, though even that had been muted by time, as if the thawing had melted some of their memories of what they experienced while frozen within the lake. But he had thought that the draasin maintained more memories of the time before they were frozen. And maybe they had, once. Hadn’t Asboel mentioned that their memories had changed over time? Could that have been the bond?
Whatever attacked, Tan said, was nearly able to destroy him. You will need to be careful.
You defeated it, Maelen.
This time. What if it returns? What if it wasn’t the only one?
That had kept Tan awake during the nights that he had remained by Asgar’s side, hoping and praying that he would awaken once more. If there was something in the world that would attack one of the draasin, that could attack one of the draasin, they needed to fear it. But more than that, they needed to understand it. Only then could he know what happened.
Will you remain with him? Tan asked.
That is why I have come.
What of his sister?
Sashari lowered her head and her lip pulled back in something like a smile. She has claimed a name, Maelen. It is fitting for her. And she has asked you to fly with her before she will share it.
Tan actually smiled. That was good news. For the hatchling to claim a name meant that she decided that she was no longer a hatchling, she was draasin. She might continue to grow—the Great Mother knew that Enya had grown in the months since she had bonded to Cora—but she was no longer a child.
I would like that.
Sashari hissed steam and flames at him. Tan flinched, but they didn’t harm him. Sashari eyed him strangely. Perhaps you should wait until you understand this darkness you have seen.
Sashari curled up next to Asgar. The way that she did, with her tail wrapping around him and one wing propped up over his back, almost as if she draped an arm over him, reminded Tan too much of how she had lain with Asboel during his final days. At least this time, the draasin wouldn’t die from the attack, but what about the next time? What if one of the weaker draasin were attacked? Asgar had grown strong and had faced other threats during his life. Would Sashari’s other hatchling manage as well? What of the hatchlings in the cavern nearby, or the precocious one who pulled at his heart in the estate in Par?
Maybe Kota was right. Would he never stop worrying? Would there always be something more, some other attack for him to worry about? And if that were the case, what were he and Amia thinking by bringing another life into this world?
“You should rest, Tan,” Cianna said, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked over at Asgar. A frown creased her brow and she drummed the fingers of one hand across her forearm. “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”
He shrugged. “Maybe it has been days, but I can’t lose another one,” he said.
“Draasin? They’re powerful, but they’re not immortal. From Sashari, I sense they are aware of that, and comfortable with it. There’s only so much you can do, and I would be the first to tell you that you’ve done enough already.”
He shook his head. “Not just the draasin.”
“What then?”
Tan sighed. “I can’t lose another friend. Asgar is a friend. It hasn’t gotten any easier losing another.”
Cianna’s frown softened and she turned to him. “As it shouldn’t. Otherwise, it means that you’ve stopped caring. If that happens, you’re no longer the Athan or the Utu Tonah or the elemental whisperer that everyone is drawn to. You are the reason many of us continued to fight, Tan. You are the reason the elementals continued to fight.” When he shook his head, Cianna raised a hand to stop him. “Think about it. Would the elementals have resumed bonding were it not for you? Would the draasin have bonded not once, but twice more, and by choice? I do not think it’s coincidence. You bring… I don’t know… something like light to us, Tan.”
She patted his arm. “Get some rest. And then you can go after what you intend to do next. Whatever it is. From the look on your face, you already have something in mind.”
Tan studied Amia. She sat crouched near the entrance to the cave, staring out into the daylight. What would he do? The draasin didn’t have the answer he needed, and Honl wouldn’t answer. That left discovering it on his own.
If he couldn’t find Elanne, was there another he could ask?
“You could have remained behind,” Tan said as they floated to the ground in Vatten. The change to the air, the humid and salty change, was stark compared to the dry, hot air of Par.
Amia held tightly to his hand and shook her head. “You left me the last time you came here.”
“Because you didn’t tell me what you’d done.”
“You would have been upset.”
“I am upset!”
She patted his hand. “See? It looks like I made the right decision.”
Tan sighed. “Why did you keep the return of the archivists from me?” He had refrained asking up until now, not wanting to upset her, but now that they had returned to Vatten, and now that he would depend on what she had done—helping Roine return the archivists to their place of knowledge—a few answers were needed.
“Because we were leaving the kingdoms,” she said softly. When he looked at her askance, she went on. “We went to Par, and I saw how you had a purpose. When we remained in the kingdoms, after you stopped him, that was gone. You don’t see that in yourself, but I did.” She met his eyes and he saw her concern for him reflected there. Only a hint of it came through the bond between them, not as it once would have. “You needed to go. You needed to find what you were meant to do in Par-shon. And I needed to support you.”
“You used searching for the elementals to push me,” he realized.
When they had left Ethea, Amia had encouraged him to help find the elementals that needed him, and seek them out so that he could understand just what the Utu Tonah had done to them. She had encouraged him to understand the hybrid elementals that the Utu Tonah had created, and learn if there was anything that he needed to help them. And so far, Tan had only found a few. There were others—when he’d held spirit while defeating the Utu Tonah, he had felt them—but he had not found them again. And maybe that was for the best. After what the elementals had been through, after what was forced upon them, they deserved their solitude. In time, as they developed and connected more fully with the elements, they would come more fully into the world, but for now, they would be left alone.
“Like I said, you needed to go.”
Tan looked away. Had he been that difficult after they stopped the Utu Tonah? He hadn’t thought so, but then, he hadn’t really had much sense of purpose. Since learning that he could shape, he first wanted to learn enough to stop Incendin, and then, after learning of Par-shon, he wanted to do whatever he could to defeat them as well. Once he had… then he might have been somewhat despondent. Strange, considering all he thought he wanted was peace.
“Where are they?” Amia asked.
He had brought them to the same place where he’d found Assan when in Vatten before, but there was no sign of the archivist. “This was where they were,” Tan said.
Amia closed her eyes and a soft shaping
built from her, with none of the pressure that he usually associated with her shapings. “Some remain,” she said, opening her eyes and pointing to the north.
Tan used earth and spirit sensing and detected what Amia had sensed. He should have done so on his own, without Amia needing to prompt him. With a shaping of wind and fire, he pulled them along toward the people they sensed.
The excavation had moved.
Nearly a dozen men worked, each digging at the ground, working under the guidance of Sani. Her dark hair hung loose today, cascading down her back. She motioned to several of the men to move, and they began working at the earth where she indicated, digging through the rock and dirt.
As they approached, Sani looked back. Her eyes narrowed. “Athan,” she said with only a slight nod to Tan. “And you must be the First Mother.”
“I am,” Amia answered.
“Where is Assan?”
Irritation flashed across Sani’s eyes. “The king summoned the archivist back to Ethea,” she said, the annoyance in her voice matching what crossed her eyes.
Tan glanced at Amia, and she shrugged. She’d been in Ethea more recently than Tan, but she’d been focused on the Aeta, serving in her role of First Mother.
“Why was he summoned back?”
“Storms! Do I look like I know the mind of the king?”
“You look like the person who’s directing this work,” Tan said carefully, not wanting to anger her further. “And if that’s the case, then I would think that Assan would share with you why he had to return.”
Sani’s expression changed and became unreadable. Tan was tempted to use spirit to find out what she might know, but decided against it. Spirit shapers using their ability like that were the reason the Aeta had been forced to wander all the years that they did. With them now open with their abilities—and with most knowing of Tan’s abilities—it wouldn’t do for him to spoil all the work that had gone into rebuilding the reputation of spirit shapers.
“You would be incorrect, Athan. I work under the archivist’s guidance.”
“But you’re not of the kingdoms,” Amia said. “You’re from Xsa.”
Xsa? Tan had thought that she looked and dressed differently than most within the kingdoms, but then, he’d spent precious little time in Vatten. She had an accent that he hadn’t managed to place, and now, that made more sense. If she were from Xsa, of course she would have an accent. But why would she be here and working with Assan?
Sani shrugged. “Does it matter where I’m from?”
“It matters when one of the People are involved,” Amia said. “It matters for the Athan when the kingdoms are involved.”
Sani glanced at the men excavating, and Tan realized that most of them shared features with Sani. Were they all from Xsa?
If that was the case, what were they trying to find here? Assan claimed that this had to do with dormant elementals and was tied to ancient Vathansa, but why would Xsa be interested in that?
“We search for relics,” Sani answered, “and your archivist searches for the same.”
“Why here?” Amia asked. “You’re from Xsa.”
“Xsa now. But our people came from Vathansa. When these lands were claimed, our people moved, migrating as we often did.” She pulled herself up and locked her hands behind her back. “As Aeta, surely you understand what that means.”
Amia nodded. “We are the Wandering People. We understand.”
“What are you expecting to find?” Tan asked.
Some of Sani’s confidence faded. “I do not know. This place was once the heart of Vathansa. The great Temple of Storms had been here. There are many relics that would have been here, lost to time.”
Amia glanced over at him, and he knew what she was thinking. Could he somehow find what Sani sought?
Tan focused on earth, using his connection to sense deep below the surface, pressing through the rock and dirt to see if he could find anything that might be a lost temple, but detecting anything other than the rock and depths of the earth wasn’t easy.
Would the elementals be able to help?
With a rumbling connection, he reached for golud, sending a request. No answer came.
Tan shook his head. Golud might be the prominent elemental in the kingdoms, but wasn’t found everywhere. And might not even be found in Vatten, especially if it had once been Vathansa and a place of convergence of its own.
“Why do you search here?” he asked. “How do you know this is where you’ll find the remains of your temple?”
“You aren’t the only one with abilities, Athan,” Sani said.
He waited for her to explain more, but she didn’t.
“What is it about your temple that you want to find?” Amia asked. “Why did you imply that you would find dormant elementals?”
“I made no implication,” Sani answered. She tugged on her hair, pushing it back over her shoulder. “And the temple holds the history of the Vathansa people, a history of a time before we migrated and settled the Isles.”
“And the king knows that you search?” Tan asked.
“Your king knows what your archivist seeks. Does it matter if they are the same? Should we not work together? My people lost so much. Finding the temple and the records that we stored…”
Wasn’t that the same reason that he’d come here? He needed to understand what might have attacked Asgar, and Kota suggested asking the Old Ones, but Sashari didn’t know and the nymid weren’t old enough. He could ask udilm, but the water elemental could be fickle with him. Besides, even udilm might not know what had attacked. But if they could find something from a time before, maybe there would be something there that would help.
Tan took a deep breath. “What can I do to help?”
10
ALAST APPEARS
The ground had been heaped to each side, revealing a massive pit. The dozen Xsa excavators worked inside the pit, moving rock to the side that Tan then shaped to the surface, pulling it out and leaving a gaping wound behind. Sani had asked that he shape carefully, not wanting to harm the temple remains.
He still didn’t know why she was convinced that the lost temple would even be found buried here, but the more that he worked, and the longer that Amia talked with her—always off to the side and out of his earshot—the more that he believed that she knew something.
In the two days that they had been here, the hole had grown wider and deeper. A pack of hounds, seven in total, had come to watch, startling the workers until Tan reassured them that he shared a connection to them. Having the hounds nearby bolstered his connection to earth, which was likely the exact reason that Kota had sent them to him. She would have sensed the effort that he exerted and wanted to help, but he’d left her in Par, watching over Asgar so that he could have updates.
Overhead, the bright sun burned down and Tan wiped a bead of sweat off his face. “How much deeper does she think that we need to dig?” he asked Amia as she approached.
She had grown stronger in the last two days, no longer needing to lean on him for support as she had in the day or two following the shadow attack on Asgar. One hand rested across her stomach and she smiled at him.
“She does not know.”
“And she’s certain this is the right place?”
Amia nodded.
“How does she know?”
“Can’t there be any mysteries in the world, Tannen?” Amia asked.
He grunted. “It seems like every time there’s some sort of mystery, I end up pulled into it.”
“And it seems to me that you like the fact that you’re pulled into every mystery that arises.” She smiled. “But your connection to the elementals and our ability to shape aren’t the only forces in the world. The people of Xsa have other talents, ones they have honed over the years.”
“Different than the elements?”
“I’m not able to explain it, and Sani does not share.”
Tan glanced over at the woman, who was bent over the pit. She kept her f
eet away from the edge and one hand gripped her hair in a tight fist.
“What do you think that you’ll find?” Amia asked.
Tan sighed, pulling a shaping of earth to the surface. A huge mound of rock and loose soil spilled onto the growing pile as he released the shaping. “I don’t know that I’ll find anything. I’m not convinced that there’s anything below here, but I’m willing to search.”
“Because you think that a temple might help you uncover other secrets?” Amia asked.
“Something like that.”
“You’ve given up on understanding the Records?”
He shook his head. “Not the Records, but I need Elanne.” He paused and focused on his connection to the elementals. “No. What I really need is to find Honl. The last time he was here, he knew about something that had changed. And with how he changed, I think he might be the only one able to help us understand the Records and how they tie into the archives, and maybe into whatever might be found in this temple. If we find it.”
One of the excavators shouted from deep in the pit, and Tan hurried forward. Amia remained back, intentionally staying away. For that, he was thankful. He didn’t want to risk anything happening to her while she stared over the edge. Even Sani, as she peered into the growing depths they dug free, made him nervous.
At the edge of the pit, Tan shaped himself into the air. With all the digging that they had done over the last few days—with his help—they had managed to dig nearly twenty feet down, and dozens of paces in circumference. Had Tan not been here, he wouldn’t have thought that it would have been possible to move so much earth without shaping it away. But then, he had been shaping some of it away.
“What is it?” Amia asked.
Tan couldn’t see anything in the darkness. He lowered himself and noted that Sani had flung a rope over the edge and slid down it, moving nearly as quickly as he shaped, reminding him in some ways of a sailor moving along lines of a ship.
“Mistress,” one of the excavators said as they reached the bottom of the pit.
Broken of Fire (The Cloud Warrior Saga Book 9) Page 8