Maybe it was the way that Ilton had appeared. When Lacertin had last been here, there remained the hope that he would recover, but seeing him—and shaping him—made it clear that he would not. Then there was the way that his mind seemed to have slipped.
Lacertin sighed. All men died. Few lived the life that Ilton had led. He should be celebrating the king’s life, rather than mourning, but the part of him that had served Ilton from the moment he came to Ethea made it difficult for him to celebrate.
“You shouldn’t lean on the door like that.”
Lacertin looked up to see a small woman sitting at the long oak table that took up most of the room. A shapers lantern sat in front of her, and she had a stack of texts resting next to her. Her thumb rested inside one of them, and she looked at him with an amused expression that reminded him of Theondar.
“Why?” he asked. He didn’t recognize her, which meant either she was a new master shaper or he had been gone long enough that he’d already begun to forget the names of the shapers at the university. Unfortunately, that was possible.
She pointed a slender finger at the door. “The others will be returning soon,” she said. She had a hint of an accent, but one that Lacertin couldn’t place.
Lacertin moved away from the door. “Who are you?”
The woman laughed softly. She had a musical tone to her laugh, and her dark eyes twinkled as she smiled. “I should ask you the same. Most of the students who come into the library make an attempt at blending in, but then, judging by the way you’re dressed, you aren’t a student, are you?”
The beard might serve more use than he realized. Having others not recognize him had value, especially until he had a chance to have Princess Ilianna examine the box. It weighed heavily in his pocket, more so when he began to think about the fact that he’d taken it from Ilton after telling him that he’d found it.
What would happen if the king awoke and had a moment of lucidity? Would he remember that Lacertin had brought the box to him and wonder what had happened to it, or would he already have forgotten?
“I’m not a student,” Lacertin agreed. “And you still haven’t shared with me who you are.”
He pulled a chair from the table and sat next to the woman. She arched a brow and then turned back to her books with a shrug, again ignoring his question. Lacertin didn’t know whether to be amused or annoyed. She had short black hair that hung below her sharp chin and wore a simple dress of yellow and blue stripes. Most of the university masters preferred more utilitarian clothing, thinking they had to be austere to show their commitment to shaping. Lacertin had always worn what was comfortable.
While waiting for her to say something more, he glanced at the stack of books. In his earlier days, back when he had still been learning what it meant to shape, he had spent time in the archives. Many students did. None were allowed access to the more restricted stacks, but there was much that could be learned from what was available. That was where he’d learned about the history of the kingdoms and where he had studied the past kings and queens. He noted that the books this woman read through didn’t appear to be from those outer stacks.
“Do you plan on watching me read?” she asked without looking up.
Lacertin shrugged. “I might.”
She sniffed and closed the book again, marking her place with her thumb. Lacertin glanced at the cover of the book and noted that a rune was stamped on the cover, but not one that he recognized. “Jayna,” she said and extended her hand to shake his, making a point of not losing the place in the book she was reading.
Lacertin took her hand and tried remembering if he’d heard of Jayna before but couldn’t place the name. That still didn’t mean all that much. He was gone from the kingdoms too often to know all of the shapers, and there were hundreds of students, each with potential, even if most of the time it never amounted to much.
“This is where you tell me your name,” Jayna said.
Lacertin couldn’t take his eyes of her smile. There was a playful quality to it, and intelligence shone behind her eyes. It had been a long time since he was intrigued by a woman. “Lacertin,” he said.
Her hand stiffened in his. Most would recognize his name, and he wasn’t surprised that she had. She glanced down at his waist, to his cloak that now covered his warrior sword, and nodded thoughtfully. “You wear the sword like one of the warriors, but you’re bearded like one of the mountain men of Galen, or a fisherman of Vatten.”
“Nara,” he said.
She let his hand go and pulled the books closer to her, as if he might take them from her. “Nara?”
He nodded. “That was my home once.” He waited for the expected response. Within the kingdoms, even here in Ethea, there was a certain shared sentiment about Nara. Many felt that the people of Nara were little better than Incendin. Thankfully, Ilton hadn’t been one of them.
“You came to the university to learn,” she noted.
“Isn’t that what it is for?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Perhaps for most. Some would say that Nara is different.”
Lacertin considered ignoring the implication. It was a common comment since the start of the war, as if his allegiance should be questioned. “You would rather I have crossed the waste?”
Jayna leaned over her stack of books, the playful smile never leaving her lips. The woman was enjoying taunting him. “I think others have crossed, if that’s what you’re implying. There’s no use denying what you might have learned had you risked going to the Fire Fortress.”
Lacertin held his breath. There weren’t many who knew enough about Incendin to know of the Fire Fortress. For most, Incendin consisted of desert and barren lands, everything threatening and deadly. Few bothered to learn about the life along the borders of the waste, or the powerful shaping that their fire shapers so easily mastered. “I serve the king,” he said.
Jayna leaned back, and the smile spread a little wider on her face. “Which king? Seems like we’re about to have a new one.”
“Ilton still rules,” he answered with more force than necessary. After seeing how Ilton had appeared when he had visited, Lacertin wasn’t sure how much longer that would be the case. Did the king have days? Weeks? It didn’t seem possible that there would be much more time than that remaining.
“From what I hear, you’ve been gone a while,” Jayna said.
“I have.”
“Mission for the king?” When Lacertin didn’t answer, she laughed softly and tapped a finger to her temple as if in on some secret. “Say no more, Lacertin. I know enough to know when I should stop asking questions.”
“I would suggest otherwise.”
She tipped her head and waited a moment, then laughed. “Maybe you’re right. I don’t always know when to stop, especially when the greatest warrior in the kingdoms suddenly appears in the university library and sits down next to me. You can’t blame a simple water shaper for curiosity, though.”
Lacertin sighed, thankful that she had admitted what type of shaper she was. “How long have you been at the university?” he asked.
The corners of her eyes twitched and her cheeks took on a slight flush. “How long?”
Lacertin nodded. “I don’t remember meeting you before.”
“Do you remember all the shapers you’ve met?”
Lacertin glanced at the door. Voices on the other side of the door came louder, and he remembered the sounds of people in the hall behind him when he’d first returned to the university. Why had he come here again? It had been years since Lacertin had been close to anyone in the university, years since he had been willing to spend much time here. Like so much else, what had once been his home was now nothing more than a place of discomfort.
“No,” he said softly.
He glanced over to the table as the door opened behind him, but Jayna was gone.
CHAPTER 4
“You should shave,” Alice told Lacertin.
He touched his chin and twirled a few strands o
f hair together. The beard had grown thick and full, and there was a part of him that wanted nothing more than to leave it. “You don’t care for it?” he asked. Lacertin sat before a crackling fire, and unlike Alice, his feet rested firmly on the ground. A steaming cup of ale rested in his hands, brought to him once a few warriors realized he was back in Ethea.
Alice was a bold woman and wore clothing to match. She had on bright red pants and a frilly blue shirt that clung to her chest. He couldn’t help the way that it drew his gaze, even if he knew how she’d react. “You’re prettier without all that,” she waved a hand in his direction, “hair.”
“You object to hair?” Veran leaned against the wall, considering Lacertin with a measured expression. His eyes were a light blue like so many from Vatten, and a thin band of leather pulled his long, blond hair off his shoulders.
“When it’s like that?” Alice asked, pointing a finger toward Lacertin’s chin. “Yes.”
Lacertin shook his head. He hadn’t seen where Jayna had disappeared to, and when the door to the library had opened, Veran had been on the other side. Of course, he had come looking for the group of students he’d left in the student library. Not the master’s library, as Lacertin had thought. He’d felt too foolish for the error to say anything about Jayna to him.
“Tell me about Incendin,” Lacertin said. Sitting with other warrior shapers, he finally felt the exit of some of the tension that he’d been carrying since returning to Ethea. His shoulders began to relax and the nerves clenching his belly eased. Some of that might be the ale, he realized, but some might have to do with the fact that he was here, with others serving the same purpose, if not in the same way.
“Ach,” Alice said, disgust in her voice. “There’s nothing about Incendin worth discussing.”
“I heard about Pherah and Roln.”
Alice’s eyes narrowed and she nodded slowly. She turned to the fire. “Incendin continues to attack. What more is there to tell you, Lacertin? Would you have me tell you how two of our best were drawn across the barrier? Or would you hear how they were set upon by a half dozen lisincend and then left for the hounds while the shapers with them were forced to watch from the safety of this side of the barrier?”
Veran pulled a short knife from a sheath at his waist and began running it along his thumbnail as Alice spoke. “The barrier holds, but at what cost? I know it’s dear to you, but our shapers are constantly attacked. We can’t hold it forever, Lacertin.”
“It’s not that it’s dear to me,” Lacertin said. He sipped the ale, letting it warm the insides of his mouth, trailing down into his stomach.
Alice turned toward him and rested a hand on his leg. “I know how much you have invested in the barrier. It’s stemmed the tide of the war, giving us a chance to regroup, but the maintenance is… difficult. We have to leave shapers stationed along the border just to maintain it!”
He thought about the last words that Ilton had said to him, possibly the last words that he ever would. “Isn’t that worth it for peace?”
“Do we have peace?” Veran asked. “Incendin tests the borders. They manage to cross even though we continue to fortify the barrier—”
“It will be strengthened with each additional shaper,” Lacertin said. “And it will not take strength to maintain, only to create.”
“Will it?” Alice asked. “Pherah and Roln thought the barrier would protect them.”
“That’s not fair, Alice,” Veran said. He held his knife out toward the fire, where the light gleamed off the blade. “They went where their king directed. They should have been able to manage six lisincend.”
“Ilton sent them?” Lacertin asked.
“Not Ilton,” Alice said.
“Then not their king,” Lacertin said. He scratched a hand through his beard. Maybe Alice was right that he should shave.
“You’ll have to get used to Althem leading,” Veran said. “You may not always love him, but he will be king. With as quickly as the king has declined, it will be soon.”
“It’s not Althem,” he said softly. Veran arched a brow and Lacertin shrugged. The cold relationship he shared with Theondar was no secret, but he really should do a better job masking it, especially if he intended to be of use when Ilton passed. Lacertin took another sip of ale, letting it work its way down his throat before he answered. “I serve the throne.”
Alice shook her head. “The throne. How very magnanimous of you.” She leaned back in her chair and glanced over at Veran. Her eyes lingered on him a moment, and then she turned back to Lacertin. “Where have you been while the realm has been attacked, Lacertin? What task did King Ilton assign to his First Warrior?”
He didn’t miss the note of irritation in her voice, nor had he missed the way she’d spoken about Pherah and Roln. Could she blame him? Would it have mattered had he been here? Another warrior might have mattered, but would it have mattered enough to protect two of the kingdoms’ most talented?
Doubtful. Lacertin’s time had been better spent trying to find the ancient device for Ilton, even if he still didn’t know what it did. Maybe only the archivists would know, could know.
When he didn’t answer, Veran slipped his knife back into the sheath. “Likely something important, wasn’t it, Lacertin? What’s he asked you to do in the past? I remember a pact with the Chenir leader, then there was the time you were to ferry two shapers from Doma. Or how about the time when he asked you meet quietly with the leaders of Xsa—”
“Yes, we all know that Lacertin is quite important,” Alice said. “Tell me, what does that have to do with anything?”
“Only that if he was gone for months, then there was some important task assigned to him by the king. Since many of the tasks that I know about involve negotiations of some sort, I would assume that he had been sent on some similar assignment.”
Alice reached across and touched the ends of Lacertin’s beard. “My shaggy friend would suggest otherwise.”
Veran smiled. “You might be right. Where could he have gone where he would need to let himself go? There isn’t anyplace where Lacertin might be sent, is there?”
Her eyes widened slightly. “Ilton wouldn’t risk Lacertin there.”
“No? But he’s sent him to Xsa.”
“They’re at least trade partners,” Alice said.
“They weren’t before he sent him.”
Lacertin raised the hand holding the ale and shook his head. “Enough. He didn’t send me to Norilan.”
He was impressed that either of them had ever heard of Norilan. It was a large country, and one mostly of ice and snow, but separated from the kingdoms and the rest of the continent by leagues of the sea. Few even remembered that it existed. Fewer still would attempt to reach it.
Lacertin only knew of Norilan because of his time in the archives. That, and because Ilton once had asked him to make the journey. He claimed they would be able to find help in Norilan, and that Lacertin could reach it on a shaping much easier than the fleet sailing out of Vatten could ever hope to reach.
And Lacertin had gone, fulfilling the duty his king asked of him. It was in Norilan that he learned of the barrier. Their shapers had something similar, though theirs was constructed of ice and water, using shapings so complex that Lacertin would never have managed to master them. He could still remember the way the cloud of cold and shaped air had pushed against him, blocking his access to the country.
Alice looked over at him, studying him with brown eyes, before shaking her head. “Right. Because why would Ilton want to seek help from a nation hidden from the rest of the world for centuries?”
“And one where there are known to be shapers?” Veran asked.
Lacertin leaned forward. “How do you know there are shapers in Norilan?”
Veran smiled. “You grow up in Vatten, you hear stories. Fishermen who take their ships too far away from our shores, risking more than they should, and coming across nothing but ice. Wind shapers with the fleet, unable to reach coordinat
es they know exist on the map.” Veran’s smile deepened and he looked at Alice. “And warriors unable to cross the sea.”
Alice turned sharply to him, and he shrugged. “I won’t deny that I’ve tried reaching Norilan. I’m from Vatten. Water shaping is in my blood. If there are those who know how to shape better than me, I would learn from them. Tell me, Lacertin, have you never considered making the crossing to Incendin? Have you never wanted to learn the secrets of the Fire Fortress?”
“I have learned all that I need from the university,” Lacertin said defensively.
Veran laughed. “You might as well ask Theondar if he had ever considered leaving the palace. The man loves his luxury.”
“I don’t blame Theondar for his service to Althem,” Lacertin said. Alice pursed her lips and shot him a look that told how little she believed the comment. “His time will come sooner than I would like, and then he will be the First Warrior.”
Alice sniffed. “Perhaps you’re right. And perhaps you didn’t venture to Norilan. That doesn’t answer where you’ve been. If it wasn’t to secure some secret truce, then what did Ilton ask of you?”
Lacertin’s hand went to his pocket and he traced the runes on the box through the fabric of his cloak. He’d spent so much time searching, following the directions coded into one of the texts given to Ilton by the archivists, that he struggled to explain.
Yet he needed to have help, especially if he was to understand the intent of the plates, or why they had been placed throughout the kingdoms. What purpose would the ancient shapers, those with shaping ability that exceeded his own, have for keeping the parts separated?
Without the archivists, he wouldn’t know. Without leaving them with Ilton, he might not know. But he’d sacrificed too much to simply lose them without understanding what they were, and without knowing that whatever power they possessed would be used to help Ilton. That was why he needed Anna.
“He sent me throughout the kingdoms,” Lacertin answered.
Veran’s face fell. “That is all? You were gone for what? Three months? And you return telling us that he sent you throughout the kingdoms? It seems to me that you could have served better in Ethea if that were the case.”
Prelude to Fire: Parts 1 and 2 Page 3