“Where do you think they will go?” he asked.
“If Incendin lowered the barrier, they could choose to attack anywhere,” Amia said.
“They have attacked twice in the last few months.”
Amia tensed. “And both times in the same place.”
“That’s what I fear as well.”
We need to go to the source of the Mother.
Asboel twitched. Having been frozen in the lake for a thousand years left him anxious about returning. That is not home.
No, but Twisted Fire will seek to return there. They have the artifact.
A spurt of flame came from Asboel’s nostrils as he snorted. They cannot reach the Mother. They cannot call the others.
And if they could?
Asboel snorted again, this time with frustration.
We should know for sure, Tan sent.
Asboel twisted and banked, turning them away from rolling hills, veering instead back into the mountains. The air gusted against them, blowing cold and biting against Tan’s cheeks as they flew faster than before.
“He fears why Incendin would go to the place of convergence?” Amia asked.
Tan nodded. “You and I know that there is something about the place that gives it power.”
The lake appeared below them, a smear of glittery silver moonlight shining from below. It seemed they had only just come from this place and were now returning. And why must it be here? Why did everything happen in this place?
Asboel dove toward the lake, descending rapidly. With a tip of his wings, he turned them toward the mountain cavern, swooping past the lake and quickly into the mountain itself.
Tan shivered. Each time he came to this place, something changed for him. The last time he had been here was when the fire shaper transformed. The time before, they had rescued the artifact. What would happen this time? How much would change for him now? Could he prevent anything from changing?
Asboel landed on the hard stone with a brief flutter of wings. Nothing but darkness surrounded them.
Amia formed a shaping and faint light bloomed from hidden shapers lanterns. Dust swirled around them from Asboel’s landing and the air smelled musty and bitter. The shaped trees and grasses that once filled the cavern had begun to wither. Tan wondered if the elementals had once fed the shaping. Now that they were gone—now that the elementals no longer formed the pillars creating a barrier that protected the artifact—did the shaped creation die?
Tan leapt from Asboel’s back. Amia climbed carefully down. They looked around but saw no sign of the Incendin.
Tan stretched out with earth sensing. There was nothing else within the cavern. “How long ago did the barrier fall?”
“It was intact when we left. I felt it as we passed through it.”
“How long has that been?”
Amia’s brow furrowed as she considered. “Two weeks?”
Could it really have been only two weeks ago he had been in Ethea? What had happened to his mother and Roine in that time? Tan wished he shared a connection with them as he did with Amia. At least then he could know what happened to them, he could know if they still lived.
“Long enough,” Tan said.
“For what?”
“If Incendin planned to return, they would have enough time to reach this place. Wherever they’re attacking, it’s not here.”
“What if they haven’t reached it yet?”
They couldn’t stay here, not if the lisincend planned a return. The lisincend weren’t here now, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t come at all. Tan had every reason to believe this was where they would attack. And if that was the case, they needed to do something to stop them from being able to reach for the Mother.
His being here—Asboel’s being here—put that at risk. If Incendin needed to draw on all the elementals to call the liquid pool of spirit, then having the draasin in this place put that at risk.
Unless they had another way. Tan had no way of knowing whether Incendin had figured out a different way to reach for that pool of spirit. If they had, he would need to block it somehow.
He would need to send the elementals away.
The small stream running through the cavern burbled. Tan touched a foot to the water. Cold water swirled through his boot. He sucked in a quick breath. Nymid!
He waited.
Amia watched him. “You think to call the Great Mother again?”
The temptation was there. When he had stepped in the pool of liquid spirit, he had known more about the world than he had ever imagined. He felt a part of it, connected in a special way, as if he were an integral part of that world, rather than simply someone it acted on. As if he mattered. While in that silvery liquid, he had known Amia, had shaped spirit to free her from the effect of the archivist’s shaping. He would give anything to return to that sense of knowing. Perhaps then he could understand shaping, could learn what the Great Mother intended of him.
But now was not the time.
“I need to ensure she cannot return here,” he said.
Asboel stayed silent. Tan didn’t know if the draasin agreed with what he planned or not. He didn’t doubt the great fire elemental understood what he did. If Asboel were captured—if the archivists or other spirit shapers tried to use the draasin—Tan might be forced to use his connection to the elementals and draw spirit forth once more. He couldn’t take the risk, not if there was something he could do about it.
Nymid. Twisted Fire may return. This place becomes dangerous. They will seek the power of the Mother.
A flickering sensation came at the back of his mind.
The nymid answered, soft and faint. The Mother must be protected.
This place is no longer safe.
The nymid sent a quiet assent before receding. The water running through the cavern gradually slowed before stopping altogether.
Be ready, Tan said to Asboel.
The fire elemental snorted.
With a rolling, rumbling sort of speaking, he sent word to golud. The earth elemental was hardest for him to communicate with, a fact he always found strange given that he was an earth shaper first.
This place is no longer safe. Twisted Fire comes.
At first, nothing happened.
Then the ground began slowly rumbling. Slowly, the rumbling expanded, moving from the ground to the walls. The sound was a painful, heavy thing that shook deep within his bones.
Maelen?
We should go.
You ask golud to destroy this place?
Then Twisted Fire can no longer use it, Tan said.
“You convinced the elementals to depart?” Amia asked.
Tan turned, feeling guilty about the imminent destruction. So much effort and shaping had gone into into its creation that seeing it destroyed felt wrong in some ways. Its purpose had been served. The place of convergence would be lost, but perhaps that was only right.
“The nymid left. Golud chose to destroy this place. I suspect they will depart when it falls.”
Asboel lowered his head so Tan could climb atop and reach out to help Amia. Once settled, she squeezed him around the waist, again refusing to grab one of Asboel’s heated spikes.
The draasin leapt skyward, toward the opening in the cavern, as the ground continued to shake. Walls of the massive cavern began crumbling, stone spilling out and around as it collapsed upon itself. They reached the open peak of the cavern as stone from this part of the mountain began falling, dropping into the space below.
Asboel pulled higher, climbing into the sky. Tan looked down to see the entire mountain collapsing inward, spilling dirt and dust from destroyed stone into the air.
He sighed. Now he would never be able to again stand in the pool of liquid spirit, never feel the connection offered her, the sense of knowing he had while there.
There are other such places, Maelen.
You know of them?
Of course.
At least he had not destroyed the only place of converge
nce. With Asboel’s help, they could find another if needed. Hopefully, Incendin could not.
Asboel twisted, flying over Galen and toward Ethea.
Fatigue caught up to him and he drifted, resting his head upon Asboel’s spikes—the heat not bothering him as it did Amia, trusting the draasin to carry them where needed. Amia held onto him and leaned into him after a while. Her body felt warm and comfortable. As strange as it seemed, sitting atop Asboel gave him a sense of home. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed that sense before now.
Maelen.
Tan shifted, blinking open his eyes. Through the darkness, he could not easily see where they were, but his earth sensing told him they neared Ethea.
You should not bring us all the way to the city.
Asboel twisted his head so that one golden eye studied him, practically glowing in the night. He blinked and then started down, bringing them toward the ground.
Amia stirred behind him and squeezed him tightly.
“Are we here?” she mumbled.
Tan took her hand. “How long will it take the First Mother to arrive?”
“From Doma? Weeks, probably.”
Tan breathed out a sigh. Weeks. Too long if the king remained shaped by the archivists. Too long if his mind remained twisted toward whatever their end goal had been.
As they landed, Asboel twitched. His nostrils steamed more heavily as he tasted the air.
What is it? Tan asked.
Something is not right. I must return.
Tan used earth sensing but didn’t find anything unusual. He jumped off Asboel’s back and helped Amia down. Strange tension worked through the draasin.
Asboel turned to Tan, eyes glowing in the night. You will be safe.
It was a question as much as a statement. Tan sensed nothing unusual and nodded. I will be safe.
Asboel snorted again.
I may need your help again. Tan thought of the fallen barrier, not knowing what its fall meant. Depending on what he found when they reached the king, he might need to search for Roine and Lacertin to warn them about the barrier.
Then I will come. Do not make me fear for you, Maelen.
Tan smiled. Could the draasin actually care for him, or was it simply some effect of the bond? I’m sorry you needed to come. I will not make the same mistake again.
No. You will make different ones.
With that, he leapt into the air, his massive wings catching the soft breeze and lifting him high into the night sky. He disappeared behind a wispy cloud.
The connection to Asboel didn’t fade. Tan held onto it, letting the sense of the elemental fill him. He might not be a shaper like his mother or father, but that didn’t mean he was powerless.
He turned toward the soft glow of Ethea. Amia took his hand and a shaping built as they started walking. After a moment, she paused, head tilted slightly.
“What is it?” Tan asked.
“I… I don’t know. There is something different about this place since we were last here.”
He wondered if it was what Asboel noticed, but the draasin hadn’t said anything more about what he sensed. Had it been worrisome, wouldn’t Asboel have commented on it? Unless he hadn’t known what it was he sensed.
Tan remained on edge as they walked toward the city. The soft glowing became gradually brighter the closer they came. They crested a small rise, and the city was laid out in front of them. Lanterns and small fires burned in a few windows; nothing like the massive flames that once threatened to overwhelm the city.
Tan started forward but Amia held him back. He threw a frown over his shoulder at her.
She inhaled deeply, moonlight shining off her skin, and a shaping built from her steadily, growing stronger as it grew. When it seemed it could not get any stronger, she released the shaping, sending it sweeping toward Ethea.
“What was that?” he asked.
She ignored him and tipped her head as if listening.
Moments passed. Tan thought she heard nothing. Then she gasped.
“I hadn’t thought to sense for it before. I should have, but we were with Roine and then we found your mother—”
“Amia? What is it?”
She looked over, fear in her eyes. “A spirit shaper. And powerful.”
22
An Incendin Return
“What should we do?” Amia asked. Her hand trembled in his as they stared toward the city. From here it seemed both so close and so distant. Amia turned and met his eyes. A steely determination shone within them.
Tan had always known her to be strong. When he first met her, she had run from Incendin hounds. Even after the attack by the lisincend, Amia had remained confident. But never had he known her to tremble as she did now. Never had he known her to show her fear, even when trapped by the archivists and the Incendin fire shaper, chained to the wagon with no way to escape. Not even when he had nearly transformed into one of the lisincend.
“We have no way of removing the king’s shaping without the First Mother,” he said. He should have spent more time when last in the city searching for archivists. “Roine and my mother are gone. Whatever shapers remain in Ethea have likely been influenced by whatever archivist you sense.” If it even was an archivist. For all he knew, it was the Brother.
He felt as if he had been kicked in the stomach. Could that be why the barrier had fallen? Had the archivists managed to effect enough of the kingdom’s shapers to force the barrier to fall? What could they do against that kind of strength?
“You need to send a message to your mother,” Amia said.
“I don’t have a connection to her. Not like I do with you or with Asboel.”
“She is your mother. There is always a connection. Besides, you managed to communicate with Elle—”
“And she has proven able to speak to the udilm.”
“You really think your mother unable to speak to ara? You have seen her shapings. She managed to mask herself from you—from everyone in the city—using a shaping of wind. I cannot imagine the control required to hold a shaping like that.”
“She would have said something. Once she knew I was able to speak to the elementals, she would have told me.”
Only—he wasn’t certain that she would. His mother had kept so much from him over the years, what would have prevented her from keeping that secret from him, too? “It’s too far. If she’s in Incendin, I wouldn’t have the strength to reach her.”
Unless she could speak to ara.
He furrowed his brow, thinking.
The soft breeze gusting around him, sliding over his clothes and rustling through his hair made him consider. He might not be able to send a message, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t get word to her. The only problem was that with ara, connecting was never a sure thing.
Ara.
He spoke it with the soft flicker that he’d learned the wind required, reaching toward the elemental with a light touch, barely more than a caress of sound. He didn’t ask for help with shapings—that seemed to take much less of a connection, enabling him to use the power of the wind. Speaking with the elementals took more strength, more focus. Maybe that was the reason he struggled shaping with golud.
The wind blowing around him picked up strength. He called to it again. Ara.
A translucent face coalesced within the wind briefly before disappearing and then reappearing on the other side of him. Son of Zephra.
Tan smiled. Ara was playful, but also fickle. He would need to approach the elemental in just the right way to make sure it would respond.
Have you seen Zephra?
Ara seemed to smile and the face faded, quickly appearing again on his other side. Many times, Son of Zephra.
Can you speak to her?
Ara flickered and began to fade. Tan worried he had been too direct, forcing the conversation more than the elemental was willing. Then it reappeared, a wide smile on the strange face. In the moonlight, ara appeared silvery, lighter than the pool of spirt but similar.
Can you? ara asked.
Tan hid the relief he felt. He hadn’t upset the elemental yet.
I need to send her a message. Can you do that, or is she too far?
Ara danced around him, dozens of faces flickering in and out of existence before disappearing. Do you test us, Son of Zephra?
Tan laughed, trying to keep from upsetting the elemental. Not a test. I only wondered if the distance was too great.
The faces flickered again, more quickly this time. What is the message?
Tan bit his lip, thinking of how to phrase it. He didn’t want to make it too complex for ara to send, but he also needed to ensure the message reached her with a sense of urgency. What would get her attention?
Tell her spirit defeats the barrier.
Ara flickered a few more times playfully. That’s not much of a test.
Can you do it?
A face appeared, closer than before. It looked something like his mother’s face, and the hair hanging around it reminded him of his mother’s hair. It is already done.
Already?
He hadn’t expected ara to be able to communicate quite so quickly.
If ara were able to do it, could he have gotten word to Elle while still with the nymid? And if he could, what would he say? She was family—his mother’s cousin—but she was also his friend.
Zephra wishes you to wait.
Wait? For what?
Ara flickered again before disappearing altogether. The wind died, fading into nothing.
He looked at Amia. “How much of that did you understand?”
“Only your side. I could tell there was another, but not what it said.”
“We can’t do this alone. I can’t do this alone.”
Amia touched his cheek, trailing a finger along it. “I’m glad you finally recognize that.”
“If the archivists control the king…”
He didn’t know how to finish. If the archivists controlled the king—and remained in the city—returning to the city was dangerous enough. But if they controlled the remaining shapers in the city as well, then returning could be deadly. How many there knew Roine was actually Theondar? How many knew about Tan and his ability to speak to the elementals?
Changed by Fire (The Cloud Warrior Saga Book 3) Page 18