Fortress Of Fire (Book 4)

by D. K. Holmberg

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “Far from it. Had I known what I was trying to do half the time, I might not have even attempted some of the things I did. That’s one of the benefits of youth: not knowing what you can’t do. Now, if I think about things too much, I can convince myself it’ll be too hard.” He turned back to the map and pointed beyond the sea, out past Incendin and Doma. “You heard me tell Zephra that the border is in danger. It’s worse than that.” He faced Tan and his eyes carried a weariness that hadn’t been there before. “When the barrier fell, many of the shapers holding it perished. The lisincend shaping destroyed them. I’ve told your mother that we have shapers stationed along the border, but they are few.” He sighed, turning back to the map. “It’s why I need for Cianna to succeed. We need those Doma shapers returned.”

  “But you don’t want me to go.”

  “I need you to search for other allies. There have always been rumors of other shapers. With the Incendin threat, the kingdom’s warriors never had the chance to search for them. We were always so focused on keeping back Incendin. Now that we can’t…”

  Roine stared at the map. “Zephra searches Doma. That’s what I asked of her. And I’d go if I could, but now that I’m expected to lead, people feel I should remain available in Ethea. It’s been many years since I’ve spent much time in the city. You can’t imagine how difficult it is for me to simply sit around and wait, letting others do things for me that I should be doing.” He turned and looked down the hall, as if wishing he could simply shape himself away on a gust of air and lightning, disappearing as he had so often done. “We’ve lost so much over the years. When I first came to Ethea, there were dozens of warriors. Over time, they aged and died, disappearing from the world. Other than me, Lacertin was the only remaining warrior I knew.” He offered Tan a fond smile. “And now you. But you’re different than my ability in a way that’s been missing from the world for far too long. Without you, I’m not sure we would have survived Althem and the Incendin attack. It’s almost as if the Great Mother has a plan, but it’s also why I need to learn whether Althem had a plan.”

  Twice, Tan had been closest to the extreme power they called the Great Mother. The first time, when standing in the pool of liquid spirit, he’d felt like he could shape anything he put his mind to. There was a sense of knowing that allowed him to save Amia and the draasin. Had he held onto that power longer, he might have been able to do even more. And then, when using the artifact, he’d drawn each of the elementals through it, bringing their power together as he funneled spirit. With enough time, he could have summoned spirit fully, as he had within the place of convergence in the mountains, but he’d turned away from that power, afraid that it might overwhelm him.

  Could there be a plan? The elementals seemed to think so. Why else had the nymid come to him, offering to heal him so that he could reach Amia? Had it only been about saving Amia, or had there been another reason? Had Tan died, the draasin might remain frozen deep within the lake. The elemental power of fire might have remained suppressed for longer. Instead, they released the draasin and because they had, Incendin had been thwarted. Perhaps that was the Great Mother’s plan.

  “Shapers?”

  Roine stared at the wall before him. “He had his reasons for what he did, but maybe there was more to it than I realized. What if Althem thought to create shapers?”

  “It’s still horrible what he did.”

  “More than you can imagine,” Roine said softly. “I only hope he was part of the Great Mother’s plan.”

  “I’ve never known you to be so philosophical,” Tan said.

  Roine stared at the map as if searching for an answer. “Before… all of this, there was a part of me that thought I could be one of the scholars. Althem discouraged it. Like you, I had so many questions and no answers. Why have we lost touch with the elementals? Why have shapers begun to lose power? When I left the palace, I sought answers on my own.”

  “Did you find anything?”

  “I think Althem never wanted me to find anything. When he recalled me, he begged of me to find the artifact, discover why Lacertin had killed Ilton. I begin to wonder what would have changed had he not summoned me.” Roine met his eyes. “You’ve not known me long, Tannen, but you know me well. I wouldn’t ask this of you if I didn’t feel it mattered. The kingdoms need help.”

  Tan thought of the flames leaping from the Fire Fortress and the fear Asboel had tried hide from him when sharing what Enya did while in Incendin. He couldn’t shake the sense that he needed to help the draasin. If they had attacked the lisincend, Tan would have heard had the draasin been injured. Besides, this was Roine asking.

  “What of finding an heir?”

  Roine looked away from the map. The tension in his eyes was clear. He was tired. As a warrior, he could shape anything he needed, could control powers greater than most could even imagine. It hadn’t made him nearly this tired. As ruler, he struggled under the weight of his new responsibilities. “That task is mine,” he said softly. “If not for heirs, then because if they are able to shape, we owe it to them to teach what we can.”

  “The First Mother could help find them,” Tan suggested.

  “That… poses dangers I’m not willing to risk.”

  “I don’t know that I can ask it of Amia, Roine. Given what she’s been through, she’s struggling with what it is that the Great Mother placed her here to do. If it’s not to help her people—”

  “I haven’t had the chance to tell you, but the Aeta are making their way toward the kingdoms. I’ve sent word they will be welcomed. This would help her people.”

  Tan wondered what that meant for the Aeta. What would change for them? “Give her time, Roine.”

  Roine’s face twisted in a pained expression. “I hope so.”

  Tan wished there might be something he could say to Amia, but she had to come around on her own. He turned away from him and looked at the map, thinking about how he would do what Roine asked. Where would they find allies? Chenir was separated from the kingdoms by a massive inlet of water. It was the reason most trade with Chenir came by sea. Could they find help there?

  “What keeps Incendin from attacking Chenir? From the map, it’s not clear why Chenir hasn’t suffered the same fate as Doma.”

  “Incendin technically shares a border, but the mountains lining the northern border between Chenir and Incendin are even more impassible than between Galen and Incendin. They had no need for a barrier to protect them. Their traders come to ports in Vatten, as ours go to Chenir. They are a peaceful folk.”

  “And you think I should go to Chenir?”

  Roine sighed. “Chenir doesn’t have shapers. Not like Doma. But there are rumors of shapers beyond the sea, past Incendin.”

  “Why send me?” Tan asked. “Why not Zephra?”

  “Honestly? Zephra can shape the wind, but you can travel as a warrior. That’s respected, even now.”

  “You’ve barely shown me how to travel that way.”

  “You’ve seen enough. Wind and fire, water for stability, and earth for strength. As your skills improve, you will manage the shaping fine.”

  “That’s not the real reason you want me to go, though.”

  Roine turned away. “Your mother really underestimates you. No. I want you to bring Amia with you. With her ability to sense spirit, she should be able to help. Find us allies.”

  “Not force them,” Amia said, approaching slowly.

  Roine fixed her with a hard stare. “No. We will not repeat the mistakes of the past.”

  Amia looked from Roine and then to Tan, where her eyes lingered a moment. “Is this what you’ll do?”

  Tan nodded carefully, not certain what Amia was getting at.

  “You’ve told me what is happening in Incendin. I agree that you shouldn’t be involved. Not so long as he asks you to stay away.”

  Roine smiled. “Thank you.”

  “I don’t mean you,” Amia said. “So if it k
eeps Tan from Incendin as the draasin requests, I’ll help.”

  11

  A FRIEND IN NEED

  Master Ferran stopped working with the massive blocks of stone as Tan and Amia arrived at the university courtyard. Chunks of fallen rock stacked high, like some massive puzzle he worked. Sweat beaded his brow in spite of the cool day.

  “You’re leaving?” he asked Tan as they approached.

  Tan glanced at the pack he had slung over his back. At least this time, he’d be prepared. Most of the journeys he’d taken had left him with nothing more than a cloak and the clothes he carried. This time, he had a thick wool cloak for the cold Amia promised they’d find, the pack with a change of clothes, and his warrior sword. He might not feel entirely comfortable wielding a sword—he’d been an archer once although he no longer felt the need to carry a bow—but the warrior sword helped him shape more strongly, much like the artifact.

  “Theondar asked of me,” Tan said.

  “Then it must be done,” Ferran agreed. He wiped the sweat from his brow, smearing a layer of dirt and debris across his forehead. Then he glanced back at the remains of the university. “I thought you would have more time with me for training. We could use someone with your strength, you know. Even untrained, there is much you can do.”

  “I would have liked more time to learn,” Tan admitted. Ferran had shown a genuine interest in helping him learn.

  Ferran nodded slowly, strangely reminding Tan of the way golud felt as it rumbled beneath his feet. “Since learning of your abilities, I’ve tried speaking to golud, asking for help with my shapings, but I’ve heard nothing.”

  “Maybe when I return, I can see if there’s anything I can do,” Tan suggested.

  “And I will carve time to teach what I can,” Ferran said before nodding solemnly and crossing his fists over his chest before turning away and returning to his work shaping the rock away from the university.

  Amia’s mouth twisted into a frown.

  “What is it?” Tan asked.

  “Probably nothing. I just never expected to see someone in the city make that greeting. It’s a sign of respect.” She turned to Tan and rested a hand on his shoulder. “The Aeta have long used it as greeting when meeting another of the family. Maybe Ferran saw it from the archivists.” She tapped the stones of the landing circle with one foot. “Are you certain you shouldn’t speak to Zephra again before we leave?”

  Tan sighed. He hated leaving as he had, but would seeing her change anything? It would likely only make him more frustrated. She saw him as her child, as a boy to protect, no matter what she claimed. Even her attempt at helping him under the guise of Sarah had been intended to get him away from the city, to send him to the place of convergence where he could use the nymid to help Elle. That he’d instead gone to Incendin likely upset her as much as when he’d gone wandering through the mountains of Galen when he was younger. Was her attempt to teach him more of the same?

  “I’ll speak to her when we get back,” he said.

  Amia rested a hand on his arm, sending a calming shaping through him. He arched a brow at her. “It’s different with you,” she explained. “And you don’t even know how long we’ll be gone. You want to leave it like that with her?”

  “I thought you two didn’t get along.”

  “I can’t say we’re on the best of terms, but I think of what I’d say to my mother were I to get the chance. I won’t ever get that chance. The lisincend took it from me.”

  Tan glanced over to the palace. Perhaps he had been a little harsh with his mother. She only wanted him safe. And her teaching of him had seemed genuine. “Maybe you’re right.” There was time to go back and find her before they left. Delaying only kept them from finding the allies Roine sought, but seeing as how Tan wasn’t even sure where to begin, it wouldn’t hurt to wait.

  “Come,” Amia said, taking his hand and starting toward the palace.

  Tan let himself be led. As they left the university courtyard, a gnawing sense came to him from someplace distant. It was like a pinprick of pain, deep in his mind. Asboel?

  It had been days since he’d felt the draasin. What had happened in that time?

  Tan reached for his bonded elemental. Searing pain split his head. His eyesight flickered, growing dim. Colors swirled at the edges. Tan strained for the draasin, feared there wouldn’t be an answer.

  The pain came again, this time like a hot knife cutting through his mind. He screamed and dropped to his knees.

  The agony seemed to last an eternity. It overwhelmed him, overwhelmed his ability to push aside anything else. For countless moments, it was all he knew.

  Then Amia touched his forehead. A cooling calm came over him, easing the pain.

  He blinked away tears that had streamed from his eyes. Remnants of the pain were still there, but less than they had been before it struck him.

  “Tan?” Ferran approached and looked from Tan to Amia with concern in his soft brown eyes. “You screamed and the ground trembled as you did.”

  He hadn’t felt the ground trembling, but then, with the pain in his skull, he couldn’t feel much else. Even the touch of the wind on his cheek and the heat in the air was lessened.

  “What is it, Tan?” Amia asked.

  He shook his head. Asboel still hadn’t answered. Usually that wouldn’t concern him. The draasin remained a distant sense in his mind most of the time, coming to the surface when he wanted to speak to Tan or when Tan called for him. This time, there was no response. There was no sense of the draasin in his mind.

  “The draasin,” he whispered to Amia. “I don’t sense him.” He took a step and stumbled.

  Ferran slipped an arm around him for support. “Come with me.”

  “I can’t. I need to find out—”

  “You need rest,” he said.

  Amia held his arm, pushing a constant shaping through him. “Whatever attacked you nearly knocked you out. You were screaming and the wind whistled. The air grew warm. And, as Master Ferran said, the ground trembled.”

  All shapings. Had he done them without intending to? What did it mean if he had?

  “Theondar,” Tan said. “Find him.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a summoning rune. He tried to shape it but failed. As he did, the pain in his head returned even stronger than before. The coin dropped to the stone with a soft clatter.

  Amia scooped it up and closed her eyes. With a shaping Tan felt as a vague pulsing in his ears, the rune began to glow. “Where can we go?” she asked, looking around at the fallen university.

  “The archives,” Tan said.

  Ferran gave him a strange look and then lifted him easily, carrying him down the street with a shaping of earth.

  * * *

  Tan sat at one of the tables in the upper archives. The lisincend had tried destroying the archives, but someone had been through here and righted all the furniture except the shelves. Books were stacked in most places, though strewn across the floor in others. The air had a musty odor mixed with the faint hint of burned paper.

  He rested his head on his hands, leaning over the table. Pain pulsed behind his eyes. Amia touched his forehead again and the pressure eased.

  “What is it that you’re doing?” he asked.

  “Taking away your pain.”

  “You can do that?”

  “Not the actual pain,” she said. “Just what you sense of it. When the shaping weakens—which it will—you’ll begin feeling it again.”

  “Can you tell what’s causing it?”

  “As far as I can tell, nothing is causing it.”

  The door to the archives opened and his mother flew in on a gust of air. She looked from Amia to Tan and stopped in front of the table. Power surged from her. Tan shouldn’t feel it so clearly, but somehow, he did.

  Roine followed her into the archives, moving with a determined stride. He wore a worried look on his face that furrowed his brow and fixed Tan with a frown.

  �
�What happened?” Zephra demanded.

  “I don’t know. We were returning to the palace to find you when he collapsed,” Amia said.

  His mother shot Amia an annoyed look. “Why would you return for me? Theondar sent you—”

  “You knew?” Tan asked, looking up. “You’re not upset that he asked me to go?”

  She shrugged. “It is harmless enough. It’s Incendin that I fear for you, Tannen, especially with what the draasin do. You’ve faced too much of Incendin. Let others do their part.”

  “Zephra—” Roine said.

  Tan lowered his head, staring at his hands. The pulsing behind his eyes started to return. He focused on it, needing to push it away. Whatever Amia did to ease the pain also separated him from his connection to the elementals. He needed that connection.

  More than that, he needed to know what happened to Asboel. Why hadn’t the draasin answered him? He was bound to Asboel, meant to help protect him, even if he didn’t believe he needed protection. Had something gone wrong as he’d tried helping Enya? Or worse—had he attacked the Fire Fortress itself?

  “That’s why Roine wanted me to go? Because you think it’s safe?” he asked as the pain lessened again.

  “That’s not the reason, Tan,” Roine said.

  “You’re sending the others, but did you really give me this ‘assignment’ to keep me away? Have I shown myself to be so weak that I need such help?”

  Roine pulled a chair away from the table. He glanced at Ferran as he did. The earth Master stood along one of the shelves, studying it silently, no differently than he had stared when Zephra had admonished him. “I have a different responsibility now than I had before,” he started. “I told you how I need to look at more than my needs, but the needs of the kingdoms. Protecting you is a need of the kingdoms.”

  Tan rubbed the sides of his head, trying to push the pain to someplace deep in his mind. “I think you’re inflating my importance.”