Amia shook her head and stared ahead.
The crowd pushed them forward, driving them almost into the wagons. Tan didn’t know how they would manage any trade at all with this many people here until he reached the edge. Then he understood.
The circle created a wall of sorts. Heavy metal railings were set in between the wagons, blocking off the square. Two openings allowed entry while two more let others out. A pair of heavily muscled men stood at each gate, carefully monitoring how many moved through. No one pushed too hard; those who did were sent away.
They reached the nearest gate. The wide man on the left wore a flaming red shirt tied around his waist with a thick cord of rope. Tattoos worked along exposed forearms. The tuft of hair on his chin was oiled into a point. Dark eyes looked at everyone carefully. The taller man next to him gripped the handle of a long knife he wore in his belt. A navy shirt unbuttoned to his mid-chest revealed tattoos much like the other man’s. His hard eyes searched alongside the other man.
When the shorter, wide man saw Amia—really, the silver band around her neck marking her as Daughter—his face changed. He blinked and his eyes softened, his mouth opening for a moment before he nodded to her, dipping his head low. The other man frowned until he too saw Amia and then tilted his head low.
The first man looked back up. “Daughter. You are welcome within our circle.”
Amia’s mouth tightened and she took a deep breath. “May the Great Mother bless your trade.”
The man nodded. The other man pulled aside a bar blocking access to the Aeta wagons and Amia started through.
When Tan tried to follow, the bar slipped back into place, preventing him.
“He may enter,” Amia said.
The tall man stared at Tan for a long moment before turning and looking at Amia again. His eyes flickered to the band of silver on her neck. “Daughter?”
Amia nodded. “He provided safe passage as requested by the Mother.”
The tall man’s eyes narrowed. “Then his duty is discharged. He should have your thanks and nothing more.”
Amia looked at Tan. “He has much more than my thanks,” she said softly.
Echoes of the command shaped into him drifted into his mind, not nearly as loud or compulsive as what he’d felt within the archives. Still, the request seemed strange.
Protect me.
Tan wondered why he would hear it now.
The wider man grabbed the bar and lifted. The other resisted at first before letting it go. “The Daughter says he may enter.”
“She is not our Daughter,” the tall man objected.
“She is the Aeta’s Daughter.”
Both men turned.
Tan looked past them to see a slender woman with deep black hair. Her eyes were a soft shade of grayish green. A wide band of silver surrounded her neck. A loose yellow dress flowed to the ground. Streaks of color ran through it.
Both men tipped their heads, but it was the taller man who spoke. “Of course, Mother.”
They waited, the wide man’s hand on the bar, until Tan passed through the gate.
A few others behind him pushed forward but both men stood and slipped the bar back into place, blocking anyone else from entering the circle of Aeta wagons. A few quiet groans drifted toward him, but most people waited patiently. The two guards turned their backs on Tan and faced the throng of people pressing toward the Aeta.
Before turning, Tan caught sight of the archivist who had led them into the depths of the archives. The archivist frowned and turned away quickly.
Tan spun and looked to Amia, but she stood with her hands clasped in front of her, an uncertain look upon her face. She hadn’t seen the archivist. Instead, she stared at the woman in front of her.
The Mother wore a serene expression and smiled at her. “Daughter. We felt your presence here.” Her eyes tightened slightly and she gasped softly. “I sensed a great loss but didn’t understand before now. What happened?”
Amia shook her head. “I would prefer not to speak of it here, Mother.”
The Mother tilted her head, studying Amia for a moment. Then she turned to Tan.
He had the same sensation he had when speaking to the Mother of Amia’s family. The Mother stared at him and seemed to look through him, as if reading his innermost thoughts. Like many of the Aeta, she would be a senser. From the way she made him feel, he suspected her skilled as well.
Could she know about the bond formed by Amia’s shaping?
And if she did, would it matter?
A steady lantern burned inside the wagon, the bright light reflecting off stacks of metal pots and cases full of stones as Amia shared her story. Tan’s eyes wandered, catching on the other collections in the narrow wagon. Rugs with fantastic patterns piled on a table. A few strange devices stacked in the corner. Clothing of all styles was neatly folded and set on shelves. Exposed walls were painted with the same bright colors as the outside of the wagons, each wall a different color, splashes of gold and red and orange surrounding him. Other items hung from pegs nailed into the orange wall. A large, dark bowl made of deep obsidian tucked into another corner.
Within this one wagon was incredible wealth.
The open window had been shut as soon as the Mother led them inside, another pair of guards standing watch. Noise from the trading filtered through, muffled somewhat. Tan still heard the music and burble of happy voices through it.
Tan had been surprised by how much larger this group of Aeta was than Amia’s family. Nearly three-dozen wagons formed a wide circle around the square, filled with hundreds of people. Amia’s tight expression stood in stark contrast to the laughter and music outside.
The Mother sat on sturdy wooden chair, her back stiff and straight as she looked at Tan and Amia. The serene expression on her face slipped as Amia spoke, telling about what happened with the lisincend and her people.
“How is it you escaped, Daughter?”
Amia took a deep breath and looked over at Tan. He still didn’t feel the connection to her, as if the bond between them had severed as they passed through the gates into the circle of wagons, though he didn’t understand why that should happen.
“Tan rescued us after we were captured.”
The Mother looked at Tan. Eyes that shifted from green to gray studied him.
He met her gaze, refusing to look away.
“You risked the lisincend to save the Daughter?” she asked.
Tan shook his head. The Mother frowned, glancing to Amia. “I risked the lisincend to save the Aeta.”
“And the others?”
Amia swallowed and tears glistened in her eyes. Tan wondered when she’d last let herself relive that awful night. He tried not to think about it. He didn’t want to remember the casual way the lisincend burned the Aeta, turning each to ash before his eyes. He’d been unable to do anything, legs practically frozen in fear.
He deserved no credit for saving Amia. Had it not been for the storm that blew in, they would both have been dead.
Unless he’d somehow shaped the storm. He would have to ask Amia about that possibility later.
The Mother looked from Amia to Tan and then nodded. “I see. They did not survive.”
Amia shook her head once and looked away.
“You did not seek the family,” the Mother said.
Tan heard an accusation in her voice.
Amia didn’t look over, as if unwilling. “I did not.” She touched the back of her head, rubbing the spot Tan knew all too well. When the Mother glanced at her, she dropped her hand and looked away.
“You do not wish to help the People?”
Amia took a deep breath. She shifted, turning in her seat to face the Mother. “I did all I could to help my people. I failed.”
The Mother frowned and leaned forward. “Many have failed when it comes to the lisincend. Why should you be any different?”
“I am one of the blessed.”
The Mother nodded. “I sensed that when you arrived. It
has been years since I felt the presence of one of the blessed. Had I known what happened to your family, I would have come sooner.”
Amia shook her head. “I have not been in Ethea long.”
The Mother sighed. “So few of our people are blessed. Not nearly as many as we once had. And to think we almost lost you to the lisincend.” A mixture of emotions flashed across her eyes. “It is…unusual…that you traveled so deeply into Incendin that hounds chased you. Most understand not to venture so deeply. Even our caravan only passed along the outskirts of Incendin, and then only because…” She trailed off and shook her head, her brow flattening and eyes tightening. She reached her hand toward Amia. The other went to the band at her neck. “No matter now. The Great Mother brought you back to the family. This family is now yours.”
Amia closed her eyes, rubbing at her temples.
As she did, Tan had a surge through the bond. The sense was distant and faint, but he felt it clearly and didn’t understand. Sadness.
CHAPTER 12
Needs of the People
Amia walked him to a quiet area within the ring of wagons. A cacophony of voices swirled around them, some shouting, others singing, still others humming or grunting. In spite of the noise, Tan remained focused on Amia.
The Mother left them, disappearing into the throng of shoppers to continue trading. When she left, she motioned to one of the nearby wagons and nodded, giving them privacy. Tan felt another surge of sadness from Amia.
“What is it?”
She swallowed and looked up, finally meeting his eyes. “The Aeta are my people.”
He nodded. “Then why are you sad?”
“I’ve told you about the pain I’ve been feeling.”
He nodded again. “You think it’s from the shaping.”
She bit her lip and glanced behind her. “I don’t know if it is or not. Or maybe there is something else, another reason for me to have the pain.” Troubled eyes scanned the circle, seeming to take everything in as she did. When she looked back to Tan, tears glistened in her eyes. “The Aeta are more than a people. They are a family. When we travel together, we do so for the benefit of the family.” She took a deep breath, as if what she had to say next was hard for her. “When I lost my family, I knew I would have to find another. I am not the first to lose her family. Others have been lost, though never quite so brutally.”
Tan frowned. “What are you saying?”
Amia forced a smile. “Seeing the Incendin shaper made it clear. I am not safe here. Not until we know what they were after and why the lisincend wanted me.”
“The Masters can—”
“Can what?” she asked, interrupting him. “Can keep Incendin from sending their shapers after us? Can discover what I am and try to study me?” She shook her head. “The Aeta have survived centuries without the university learning of what we are. All they have is speculation.”
“Roine knows.”
Amia breathed out. “He knows. And if it hadn’t been for the lisincend, he would not have known.”
Tan turned and looked away from her, staring at the wagons. The bright colors that had seemed so vibrant and alive seemed cold and oppressive. Flames leaping from the large pit near the center of the circle reminded him more of the lisincend and Incendin. Nausea rolled through his stomach though he didn’t really know why.
“Tan…” She squeezed his hand. “It’s more than the family. You know that, don’t you?”
He nodded.
“You…you could come with me. Outsiders don’t often travel with the Aeta, but it’s been known to happen.”
He smiled sadly. His mother had traveled with the Aeta long before he’d been born. Another story he would never hear her tell.
He studied Amia and considered her offer. He could leave Ethea, travel with the Aeta, and perhaps help Amia learn what happened—why the shaping affected her as it did. But leaving meant he wouldn’t learn about the draasin. After what he’d learned from Roine, he feared the king wanted them hunted and destroyed. Whatever else, Tan couldn’t let that happen.
And then there was the issue of the fire shaper. He suspected she was from Incendin but had no way of proving it. Roine would take no action without proof.
Too much depended on him staying in Ethea.
He swallowed. He’d lost everything. His father, his home and mother, and his entire village. And now he would lose Amia.
This hurt more than anything else.
“You know I can’t. Not until I know what’s happening here. You could…” He trailed off, not knowing how to finish.
If she stayed, could he keep her safe? Would he learn enough about shaping to follow the one she placed upon him and protect her? Or would he fail as he had failed the other Aeta, as he had failed the Mother, and very nearly failed Amia? Had it not been for the draasin, he would not have protected her.
“You have to leave, don’t you?”
She blinked slowly and then nodded. “I need to find answers. There are no others who can shape spirit other than the Aeta. And once I do…”
She didn’t say she would return to him. He didn’t need her to; he felt it through the shaped connection. But how long would that take? And how much would change before she returned?
But he couldn’t refuse her the answers she needed. “Can they keep you safe?”
He looked her over. Her eyes carried much of the same sadness he felt. “We have managed to survive for centuries. We are the landless. We are the wanderers.”
Something in her voice rang untrue, but he felt nothing different from the bond between them. The only thing Tan felt was pain. Amia would leave. “Where will you go?”
She shook her head, looking away, turning to face the fire. “The Mother leads. Were I to stay, in time, I would be Mother. As one blessed by the Great Mother, that has always been my responsibility.”
Tan looked over toward the Mother. She met his eyes and nodded once. “You didn’t answer.”
Amia shook her head. “I don’t know. Judging by some of the items the Mother had in her wagon, perhaps Doma.”
Doma didn’t have shapers like Ethea did, didn’t have the capacity to push back Incendin if needed. And if Incendin had already shown the ability to push into the kingdoms, what would stop them from attacking in Doma?
“When will you leave?”
The sad smile that twisted her lips was answer enough. Soon.
She touched his arm and turned him toward the fire. “Come and celebrate with us before the wagons leave.”
Tan wanted badly to stay, to be with Amia as long as he could, but memories of what had happened in the archives plagued him. Roine had to know about the Incendin shaper reaching Ethea. He had to know about Amia being unable to shape the archivist. As much as anything, he had a nagging concern about why. Only the lisincend had withstood her shaping.
And he needed to reach the draasin, to warn them of Roine and whatever the kingdom’s shapers might do. “I need to find Roine…”
She nodded. “And I should meet the others of the family.”
“How long?” He choked a little as he asked, but he needed to know.
Amia shook her head. “That’s not how it works with the Aeta. And I don’t know how long it will take to find another blessed by the Great Mother. Until I do—and until I can find out what happened when I shaped you, why it pains me as it does—I can’t stay. You know there are none in Ethea who can help me with this.”
Tan pulled her against him, hugging her tightly. “I don’t want you to leave.”
“I don’t either. Had the archives been safer, I might be able to search them for answers. That had been my hope. But now…” She shook her head. “Now I will go with my people to find the answers I need.”
She touched his arm. Pressure built behind his ears as she performed a shaping. A relaxing sense washed over him, but something else as well. A surge filled his mind, painful and sharp, before fading.
“What was that?” he asked, resisting
the urge to pull away. He wanted Amia’s touch to linger as long as possible.
“A gift. If it works, you will understand later.”
“If it works?”
“I’ve never tried anything like it before.”
“What will it do?”
She smiled again, this time sadder than the last. “Help you remember me.”
CHAPTER 13
The Gift
Tan sat on the lawn near a far wall of the university lawn, legs crossed on the grass, arms draped over his knees. The dark clouds in the gray sky matched his mood. The ache that had been with him the last few weeks was gone. With it, so was Amia.
He hadn’t watched the Aeta wagons as they left town. Leaving Amia had been hard enough the first time; Tan wasn’t sure he’d be able to do it again. Worse, he hadn’t managed to find Roine. As far as he knew, the Incendin fire shaper was still in the city, searching for them.
Tan sighed. At least Amia had a chance to get some distance from Ethea. If nothing else, she might be safe a little while longer. Maybe she would find the answer to her pain.
The leather bound book lay next to him. Once he found Roine, he would return to the archive, find one of the books the archivist had shown him on how to read the ancient language, and do what he could to decipher this. Unless the archivist and the fire shaper found him first.
One hand fingered the cover of the book, running across the symbol. Shaped like a triangle with a branch leading off to each side, Tan recognized it as the mark for fire. More than that, he understood it to be the mark of the draasin. If only he could read the book.
Another reason he already missed Amia.
Tan pulled the book open and glanced at the page, scanning the words.
And understanding them.
He blinked. Could this have been written more recently than the others? Could this text not be as old as some? If that was the case, maybe it didn’t have anything to do with the draasin. Other than the draasin frozen in the lake near the place of convergence, the great elementals had been gone from the world for nearly a thousand years.
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