Cycle of Fire (The Cloud Warrior Saga Book 11)

by D. K. Holmberg

  “You must accept change the same as the rest of us, Maelen,” Honl said gently.

  “I thought that I was. I thought…” What had he thought? That he could bring change to others and not have the same occur to him? His actions influenced everything around him, including his family. And now he couldn’t even object to what had happened. Without Alanna and her connection to the Mother, he wasn’t certain they would have survived the last attack from the disciples. He was beginning to think they wouldn’t survive Marin without her.

  “I don’t know that I can suppress Tenebeth, Honl,” he said.

  “Is that what you intend to do?”

  “Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?”

  His bonded elemental shook his head, wind playing through his hair, blowing it back from his neck. He took a step toward Tan, boots crunching again, the only other sound. “I can’t say I know what you’re supposed to do. Only you can know that.”

  “The prophesy—”

  “Means nothing, really. It was one possibility among many.”

  “But I am the Shaper of Light.”

  Honl nodded. “That much has come true.”

  “Then the others might be equally true.”

  “Or they might be equally wrong. You will do what you need, Tan. You always have.”

  Tan hesitated. “Tan this time, not Maelen?”

  “You were Tan first. I think this more… intimate.”

  Tan took a deep breath. “You’re nearly human now, aren’t you?”

  Honl frowned. “Not human, but not elemental. Parts of both, I think. Interesting that spirt would change me in this way.”

  “Amia claims humans all have a spark of spirit and that they all are connected to the Mother.”

  “Perhaps,” Honl agreed.

  “You don’t think so?”

  “I am still searching for understanding. As I begin to think I understand, something else changes and I realize that I do not know what I thought I knew.”

  Tan looked at the remnants of the city and the tower that had been built to confine Tenebeth. Through the bindings, the edges of it appeared blurred, as if it were not real. Tan could feel it through his connection to earth, but it was a vague sense, one that he wasn’t certain he really detected. Passing through the binding proved difficult, and he didn’t dare risk it. Were there any way to convert the barrier he’d created and use the tower as the ancient shapers had intended, tying it to the place of convergence, he would do so. It had to be a stronger seal than what they had created.

  Or did it?

  Marin didn’t attack here, though she had attacked in other places.

  Was that because the bindings were stronger here? Or did the fact that they were newer matter?

  Maybe the answer wasn’t finding a way to finish the work of those ancient shapers, but to attempt something new and different. And then he would have to create a record of it for the generations to follow. That was the failing this time. None other than the Order had known to fear Tenebeth, and by the time they had learned, it had almost been too late.

  Tan shaped a connection to the binding, feeling the power residing within it. The power pushed against him, forcing him back, just as he suspected it would force the darkness back on the other side. It would be so much easier if there could be some sort of natural balance, one where there didn’t have to be a separation, but that risked allowing Voidan too much power over the world. He’d seen what had happened when Marin and her disciples allowed themselves to be corrupted. What would happen if others allowed the same? How much would the world suffer then?

  “I think,” Tan began, “that we need to reconsider how we hold him in check.”

  “You can never expect to truly hold the darkness in check, Maelen. Whatever you think you can do, others before you have tried. How many cycles do you think this has occurred?”

  “How many times has Voidan been freed?”

  “More than I know,” Honl answered. “When I was better connected to the bond, I think I understood, but that connection has faded somewhat. I still can reach the bond, but the connection, that power that I once was a part of is… lessened somewhat.” He scanned the area around him and smiled. “Yet I feel as if I have gained something as well. Losing my connection to the bond has given me an understanding of the life you live. I think that has been a reasonable exchange.”

  Tan sighed. If Voidan had been freed many times before, what hope did he have to fully contain him? The ancient shapers had been powerful, and many seemed as if they had a greater knowledge than he possessed. More than that, there were simply more shapers, some so talented that they had understood how to create things like the artifact, or how to move the places of convergence. What hope did he have of succeeding when they had failed?

  And not only once, they had failed more than once. There was evidence of the bindings and of the places of convergence, but if there had been more than the single failing, that meant that the darkness had been suppressed more than once.

  How?

  And where was the evidence of it?

  Time might have taken it away, or it might be that what Tan thought was a single attempt to confine Tenebeth had been more than that. If the tower in Par had been part of more than one attempt to trap it, would he even know? What of the kingdoms and what he’d seen in Ethea? Would Tan know if there was something there?

  Probably not. There had been so many changes over the years, shapings that had been added and modified in ways that he probably wouldn’t know, as they were layered atop each other.

  Yet… if he could understand what had been attempted, if he could learn how they had secured Voidan in those previous attempts, he might be able to find a different way, one that might trap him more effectively.

  “Honl, can you help me find—”

  Tan didn’t have a chance to finish. Standing on the plains of Norilan, with the barrier he’d created to contain the darkness so near to him, he felt pressure build against him.

  Not from the other side of the barrier, though he hoped he would detect that if it occurred. This came from somewhere else in Norilan, near enough for him to detect the way it pressed upon him.

  Maelen!

  It was a cry for help from Alanna.

  Tan exploded into the air and surveyed the land, but saw nothing.

  Where was she? Where had his daughter gone?

  When he’d detected her last, she’d been wandering through the city, riding along one of the elementals found within Norilan. With his connection to her, he should be able to find her easily, but he couldn’t detect her as he thought he should be able to.

  Alanna?

  The Mistress. She is here.

  Tan unsheathed his sword and sent spirit flowing through it.

  Next to him, Honl hovered. Tan noted how substantial he appeared, even now and in this form. “What is it, Maelen?”

  “She’s here,” he said to Honl.

  “Where? I do not sense anything.”

  Neither did Tan, which troubled him. Shouldn’t he be able to detect something?

  Alanna?

  When she didn’t answer, his heart fluttered.

  Alanna? Help me find you.

  There was no answer.

  Tan raced higher into the sky and called to Wasina as he did. She had been circling, but with his summons, she shot toward him, flapping her wings in the incredibly precise way that she had.

  She was here, Wasina. Help me.

  I detect nothing.

  Tan closed his eyes, focusing on spirit and on the spirit bond. He should be able to reach Alanna through the bond, at least to know whether she was harmed, but he didn’t even detect her within it.

  Help me.

  Tan sent the request to all the elementals in Norilan. Most were elementals he had freed, and he hoped they would be able to help him identify what had happened to Alanna. Had he made a mistake not remaining with her? With the maturity she’d demonstrated, it was easy to get lost in the ide
a that she would be fine on her own, but she was still a child in physical form. It wouldn’t take nearly as much to overwhelm her as it would him.

  The elementals had no answer for him.

  His connection to spirit gave him nothing.

  Panic surged through him as he lowered himself back to the ground.

  He’d lost his daughter. He’d lost the Voice of the Mother. And the worst part was he had no idea how it had happened.

  20

  A Daughter, Lost

  Amia reached Tan quickly even though she was riding atop Asgar. The draasin was flying as fast as Tan had ever experienced. He streaked toward the draasin, the sense of the fire elemental drawing closer so fast that Asgar practically seemed to be shaped. He landed in a flurry of wind and a flap of his massive wings, steam rising off his body.

  Amia jumped down and ran to Tan. “Where is she?”

  “I don’t know what happened. We were here… and then she was gone.”

  “You weren’t attacked?” Amia asked.

  “There was no sense of attack,” he said. “I detected a hint of darkness and knew that Marin must be here, but I never saw her. The sense happened so fast that I could almost have imagined it. How could she have gained such power? It was more than she’d possessed the last time I faced her.”

  Amia’s eyes were closed and she rocked in place. Power from a spirit shaping surged from her, radiating away. She didn’t need the connection to the spirit bond to use it to detect their daughter. Her technique was more refined, tied to the ways the Aeta had long remained connected.

  “She’s gone,” she said, opening her eyes. “I don’t even detect her anymore. How is it possible?”

  Tan could only shake his head. He had no idea how it had happened, had no idea how Marin would have been able to sneak in without him knowing. And he had thought she hadn’t attacked Norilan. She did—only she did it in a way that he would never have expected.

  “She should be connected to spirit,” Amia said. “I should be able to feel something, but it’s as if she is not there.”

  “Darkness shields the light,” Honl said.

  “That should not be possible with her,” Amia said.

  His eyes wrinkled and he shook his head. “It should not. It means the mistress has grown stronger than before.”

  “She was already stronger than before,” Tan said. “When I faced her the last time, I barely survived. Even her disciples have become incredibly strong.”

  “That should not be possible unless she has freed even more of Voidan than we know,” Honl said. “The bindings should hold him.”

  “What if there are bindings we don’t understand?” Tan asked.

  “There are only the three. That is all I have discovered. They were meant to connect, but they hold even without that connection.”

  Tan remembered how they were supposed to connect. When he’d been in the Temple of Alast, he had seen how they were supposed to combine, to use spirit together, flowing from one place to the other on a shaping more complex than those he’d seen from the Order. He had felt how that would have been effective, and how if it had taken hold, it would have bound the darkness.

  “There has to be another,” Tan said.

  “There are not,” Honl said. “Even the records here only speak of three.”

  “You told me that there have been cycles. If there have been cycles, it means the darkness has escaped more than once, and it means that it has been suppressed more than once. What if one of those other seals failed?”

  Honl started away from him, crossing his arms over his chest. The sound of his boots crunching off the rock seemed louder than it should. “It is possible, but I have gone through every known record,” he said. He scratched his chin, staring at the barrier that prevented Voidan from escaping in Norilan. “There is nothing other than these three.”

  “Which means there are records we haven’t discovered,” Tan said. “Were Alanna here, she would be able to help me find it.”

  “She is not, Maelen,” Honl said softly.

  “She is not, but there is a place where I might be able to help me find what we need.”

  21

  Return to the Pool

  The return to the Sacred Pool came on a shaping rather than with the draasin. Tan needed to travel quickly, and he didn’t worry about weakness or fatigue. Every moment that he delayed finding Alanna meant something worse could be happening to her.

  As much as he hated to admit it, of greater concern was what they might be able to learn from Alanna and how Marin might be able to use—and abuse—Alanna’s connection to spirit. If that were to happen, Tan wondered if he would be strong enough, if those he had brought to the element bonds would be strong enough.

  Answers.

  That was why he had come. Amia had insisted on coming with him this time, knowing what he intended. It was only fitting that she would.

  They reached the cavern floor and Tan veered away from the city, avoiding Tobin and the others of the Order. He would visit with them when he had found his daughter. He could take that time and see if he could convince them to work with the shapers of Par and Ethea, especially now that some of them had willingly responded to his summons.

  Neither of them spoke. They didn’t need to. Both of them were focused on what it would take to find Alanna.

  Even Light, wrapped around his neck as she so often was, sensed his unease, though he didn’t know if that was more because she recognized how he felt or if she shared it. The elementals worried about Alanna’s safety, but they did so for different reasons.

  When they reached the entrance to the cavern, Tan hurried inside, shaping a soft glow that hovered in front of them to light his way. He doubted that he would need it, but Amia would. At the archway that would bring them back into the Cavern of the Elements and to the Sacred Pool, he hesitated.

  You must continue, Maelen, Light urged.

  I know.

  The longer she is gone, the greater the risk the Mistress will—

  Will what? he asked, looking down at the lizard. That she will corrupt her and use that power to free Tenebeth?

  She does not seek to corrupt, Maelen. Your child is the Voice of the Mother. There is no corruption possible.

  Then why did she take her?

  She seeks to destroy, Maelen. That is what she is after. If she can destroy the Voice, there will be less to oppose her when she continues with her plan.

  Tan took a deep breath, pushing down the anger that rose into him each time he thought about what Marin intended. First she had taken his wife, and now she took his daughter. It would end. All of it would end.

  He ducked into the chamber.

  A quick glance showed him that shapers had been here since his last visit. Tan wasn’t surprised. Revealing the secret to growing the garden had seemed the most exciting part of the visit for Tobin. Tan wondered why before remembering that ancient shapers of the order had done something similar, almost as if they did it as a way of leaving something of themselves upon the world.

  “Beautiful,” Amia whispered.

  Tan pointed to the sapling that he had started. “That one was mine.”

  “An oak tree. Fitting for you.”

  “They’re common in Nor. It felt right.”

  “And they’re stout and sturdy. Like you.”

  Tan nodded to her and continued deeper into the cavern. As he passed the water and the desert, Amia whistled softly to herself. Then they reached the stones overlooking the pool of spirit.

  Two shapers stood on the stones. Both were wrapped in shapings of what appeared to be spirit, but connected in ways Tan had not experienced before. They wore dark maroon robes that were nearly black, reminding him of the clothing the lisincend once had worn.

  “You may not enter,” the nearest said. He had a shaved head and sun-darkened skin.

  “Are you with the Order?” Amia asked.

  The other shaper stepped forward. She had jet black hair that barely
moved as she walked. Her robe shifted slightly, but it seemed wrong. “This way is forbidden,” she said. Even her words were accented strangely.

  Tan glanced at Amia. They are not from the Order, he said.

  They are not human, Light added.

  Tan blinked. What are they? Elementals?

  Not elementals, at least not yet. They are… constructs. Like the beginning of elementals. They should not be here.

  Why should they not be here?

  They are not from the Mother.

  Light leapt from his shoulders and scrambled up the rock.

  As she did, the nearest shaper—or whatever he was—pointed at Light. A streamer of color burst from the tip of his finger and struck the lizard, holding him in place. The other shaper approached and crouched next to him. For a moment, Tan noted a surge of blackness behind her eyes, but then it was gone.

  He unsheathed his sword, but he was too slow.

  A dark shaping built from the female shaper and streaked toward Light.

  It struck her in the side. A hole began forming, created out of the blackest night, oozing through her.

  “No!” Tan shouted.

  The shapers looked up at him and stood. “You should not be here,” the man said again.

  This time, he pointed his finger at Tan. When color spilled from it, a mixture of sickly green and red that swirled toward him, Tan was ready and sent a shaping of spirit through his sword that caught the color, where it disappeared in a burst.

  Brightness exploded from Light and she slithered forward.

  The female shaper reached toward her, grabbing at her tail.

  Tan shaped spirit at her, striking the shaper in the arm, freeing Light. She disappeared over the edge of the rock. A soft splash told him that she’d reached the pool of spirit.

  He had a moment of concern, worried that the darkness within her might taint the pool of spirit.

  It will not, Maelen, Light sent.

  At least he knew she was unharmed. The spirit pool would heal her. It had to.

  “Tan!”

  He jerked his attention around in time to see the two shapers directing their attention to Amia.