Tan skimmed the next few pages. Each page described fire, detailing the elementals, describing conversations with saa and inferin. Another elemental was mentioned, but not by name.
And then Tan found a comment on the draasin.
“The most feared of the great elementals are the draasin. Massive creatures that once roamed freely, as the kingdoms spread, they recede from us, though only reluctantly ceding these lands. They are hunters, unmatched and fearsome in their power. Unlike the other great elementals, they have not been known to bond to our shapers. Few even possess the ability to speak to them, though who would risk such danger?”
Tan skipped a few pages, fascinated by the comments on the draasin. Whoever wrote this section must have seen draasin, or at least read of them. He found another passage and continued reading.
“While they are creatures of fire, they also live in the sky, and as such, have some power over the wind. Unlike saa and saldam, they do not fear the udilm. Only golud holds sway over the draasin, and they do so reluctantly.”
Tan sat back, looking at the book. As he did, he made out the letters, the shape of the words, realizing that it was written in the ancient language.
Tan flipped through a few pages of the book. Letters from the ancient language covered every page. On each page, he read and understood the words as if he’d read them his entire life.
His head throbbed just thinking about it. How was it possible?
Tan closed the book and looked at the cover. Could the draasin have made this possible? Could the connection to the great elemental have granted him some of its knowledge? That didn’t seem right. He’d been connected to the draasin since finding them in the place of convergence and he hadn’t been able to read anything from the archives before now. What had changed?
As he sat there, he remembered what was different.
Amia.
She had shaped him before leaving. That shaping had pierced his mind, stabbing painfully through him. She said she gave him a gift, but how would she have managed something like this?
A lump formed in his throat as he thought about her. The bond between them still held—he could sense her distantly through it—but was nothing like it had been when she’d been in the city. Tan suspected that over time, the connection would fade. And maybe that was what Amia needed until she could reach another with the ability to shape spirit.
He looked up. Someone shaped nearby.
The courtyard remained empty. The chill in the air kept most of the university students inside and the gusting wind that blew through likely kept away anyone else. To Tan, the wind reminded him of home, a home he would never be able to return to.
Like the Aeta, he no longer had a home.
Thunder rumbled, followed by a loud crack, like the wind snapping.
Tan pushed to his feet, tucking the book back into his pocket to read later, and started toward the stone circle. There was only one person he knew who used it.
As he reached the stones, a small woman hurried away, moving quickly.
Not Roine.
Tan followed her. Could she be another warrior? There had once been dozens of warriors in the city, but as far as he knew, there hadn’t been any in nearly two decades. Not since his mother had lived in the city.
The woman wore a deep blue hooded cloak. The hood settled about her shoulders, leaving auburn hair tangled in the hood’s dormant folds. Other than her pale skin and lighter hair, she had much the same build as his mother.
She made her way from the university grounds. Tan kept after her. For all he knew, she was another shaper, but he’d never known any other shapers to arrive in Ethea this way.
The woman turned away from the palace, making her way up the broad street. Since the Aeta left, there weren’t the same throngs of people on the streets. They were still crowded, just not quite like they had been even the night before.
Tan twisted, trying to keep her in sight, but she moved swiftly. Every so often, Tan caught glimpses of her dark cloak or her hair. And then he lost her altogether.
He stopped and looked around. He didn’t recognize where he was. The buildings in this part of the city were built close together and made of wood rather than stone. Cobbles on the narrow streets were worn and some were loose, catching his feet as he walked. Faded signs advertised the shops, but most were too worn to make out completely.
The people here were dressed more simply than they were near the university or the palace. There were less of the bright colors of Doma. Fewer heavy drapes of Chenir. And he saw no sign of more exotic dress like those from the Isles. Only folk from the kingdoms. Most moved quickly, hurrying toward wherever they needed to reach.
Tan continued onward, looking for any sign of the small shaper, but he saw nothing.
He felt another shaping, this one more powerful than the last.
Wherever the shaper had headed, he suspected she was gone now.
As he neared the university again, he saw Roine.
At first, he wasn’t sure if he actually saw the old warrior. He was dressed in a formal jacket of forest green with deep black pants. Neatly combed hair had been brushed back from his head. It was the sword hanging from his waist that gave him away, the sword that marked him as one of the warriors.
Tan ran over to him. “Roine!”
Roine continued on as if he didn’t hear.
Tan sprinted forward. A sudden gust of wind seemed to push him along. “Roine!” he shouted, this time louder.
Roine paused and turned. The frown on his face turned into a tight smile as he studied Tan running toward him. “You have learned to shape.”
Tan nearly stumbled. Had Roine heard about what happened in the archives? Would he already know about the Incendin fire shaper?
“I—” Tan cut off, uncertain how to explain to Roine. “You heard what happened in the archives?”
“Archives?” Roine shook his head. “I merely meant the way you…wait—what happened in the archives?”
“There was a shaper.” Roine frowned but didn’t say anything. “Amia was with me. We asked the archivist to show us anything on the draasin—”
“Those are restricted, Tannen.”
Tan nodded. “I know they’re restricted, but I wanted to see them.” He lowered his voice. “As I’m the only one who’s spoken to one of the draasin in nearly a thousand years, I think it would be helpful to learn more about them.”
Roine touched the hilt of his sword and blinked slowly. “You’re right. There is much we need to learn about the draasin, especially since they’ve chosen to hunt so close to the city. That’s where I was going, actually. I need to survey the damage and see if there’s anything I can do to prevent another attack.”
“That’s just it,” Tan began. “I don’t think it was the draasin that attacked near the city.”
Roine took a quick breath and shook his head. “I’ve seen the draasin, Tan. And I’ve read what I can of the restricted archives on the draasin. Most of it is written in the ancient language so I can’t read everything, but there are translations from those who can.” He shook his head again and ran his hand through his hair. “Most are warnings about the draasin, recommendations to avoid them when possible or kill them if necessary. And these from shapers—warriors—more powerful than me. No,” he said, shaking his head. “The draasin are responsible for what happened near the city. I will do what I can to prevent them from attacking again.”
“Then why was there an Incendin shaper in the archives?”
Roine looked and nodded toward the university entrance. They had almost reached the large curved archway into the courtyard. Roine rested a hand on Tan’s arm and turned toward him. He lowered his voice and his eyes darted around as he spoke. “Why do you say that?”
“Because she nearly killed us.”
“She?”
Tan nodded. “I think the archivist helped her. He brought us to the lower archives and locked the door. An Incendin shaper came for us.”
&n
bsp; “One of the archivists brought you to the lower archives?”
Tan nodded again.
Roine frowned, blinking again as if trying to clear his mind. “And you were with Amia?”
“Yes.”
“Did she shape him?”
“It was the only way we were going to get access to those archives. If she hadn’t shaped the archivist, he wouldn’t have brought us there. At least, that’s what we thought.”
Roine frowned.
“The shaping didn’t work,” Tan explained. “He knew he was shaped and brought us into the archives anyway. He must have intended the fire shaper to find us. I haven’t been able to figure out why Incendin would still want Amia now that the king has the artifact.”
Roine let out a long breath and rubbed his hand through his hair again. His other hand drifted to the hilt of his sword, running across the symbols engraved there. As he did, the expression on his face changed, softening. “Her shaping should have worked on the archivist.”
“That’s what she said. She seemed surprised. The only time her shaping didn’t work was when she tried shaping the lisincend, and then I think it almost worked.”
“I was able to resist it to a certain extent,” Roine reminded.
“I don’t think she ever really tried shaping you.”
Roine studied Tan. “No. Perhaps she did not.”
“What would make a shaping fail?”
Roine shook his head. “I don’t know anything about spirit shaping. No one does anymore. We haven’t had a true spirit shaper in the kingdoms for hundreds of years. And then, we still had warriors with the ability to shape spirit.”
Tan tried thinking about what little he knew of shaping. Since meeting Roine, he’d seen many shapings, but only once had a shaping failed. That had been when Fur tried sending a fire shaping at the draasin. He hadn’t been surprised Fur failed in his shaping; sending fire at a fire elemental would not work, even as twisted as the lisincend were.
But did it work the same with shapers?
“What would happen if a fire shaper faced another fire shaper?” Tan asked.
Roine shook his head. “It depends on many things. Strength, skill, intent. Strength often trumps everything else, but not always. I’ve seen weak shapers deflect another’s shaping, simply because they had more experience.”
A thought began growing within Tan’s mind. “What if the archivists were shapers?”
“Some are shapers. They are selective about who they choose to join the archivists, and will cull from the university when they find an appropriate candidate. Most are not.”
“Maybe they’re spirit shapers.”
Roine shook his head. “Tan—most aren’t even shapers. And if they were, we would have learned about it.”
“Like you knew about the Aeta?”
Roine stiffened. “We suspected the Aeta for years.”
“But you couldn’t prove anything. And if they wanted, couldn’t the Aeta shapers have shaped you to forget what they were capable of doing?”
His expression turned troubled. “It is possible,” he admitted. “When I see him next, I will ask Jishun.”
Tan shook his head. Roine couldn’t wait to see the other Athan to learn whether he could shape spirit. And if he could, the archivist could shape Roine to deny it. Roine needed proof.
“And the archivists are the only ones who know the ancient language. Isn’t that what you said?”
“They spend years studying the language. The newest archivists know very little of it. It’s not until they’ve been an archivist for many years that they truly manage fluency.”
Tan remembered the archivist telling him that it would take a lifetime of study. But Amia had learned it from a young age and the archivists managed to learn it. What if there was something more to how the archivists mastered the language? What if they were gifted it the same way Amia had gifted it to him?
“There’s something I need to show you,” Tan told Roine.
CHAPTER 14
The Archives
“Amia somehow shaped this knowledge into you?” Roine asked as Tan read to him in the ancient language.
Tan nodded, remembering the way it had felt as she performed the shaping. Pain and then warmth.
“But you had been studying it for—”
“Days only, Roine. Not enough to learn it. Not enough to read this,” he said, tapping the cover of the book on the draasin.
Roine looked toward the university courtyard and closed his eyes. “If what you say is true…”
“It is.”
Roine looked around, his hand still running along the hilt of his sword. “Then come. We need to return to the archives.”
Tan watched Roine for a moment as he started toward the archives before racing after him. The archives were not far from the rest of the university, though they were set off in their own section, isolated from much of the city.
The squat building loomed into view. Roine didn’t hesitate as he made his way to the archives and pulled the massive door open.
A single lantern glowed, giving a strange and darkened appearance to the entry hall. The air held none of the char scent he’d smelled the last time he was here, only the heavy musty odor from decades of moisture soaking into the stone. The smell reminded Tan of the abandoned mines in Galen he used to explore in the days before his father died. Most of the time, he had wandered them alone, but there had been a few times his father accompanied him. Each time he did, they made a game out of who could sense better than the other, trying to reach as deeply into the abandoned mines as they could while trying to detect signs of anything moving. His father always won.
Now it was his turn to win.
Tan pushed out with his senses, straining to feel for anything that would tell him if there were other shapers present, or even the archivist.
Roine looked over at him, brow arched. “Sometimes I forget how strong you are,” he said softly. “You’re already an incredibly gifted earth senser. With time, you have the potential to be just as strong a shaper.”
Tan swallowed. Comments like that made him think of his parents, about what he’d lost and never known.
“I don’t sense anything,” he said.
Roine shook his head. “Nor do I. And that bothers me.”
Tan frowned. “Why?”
“The archivists protect the archives. They are possessive about them, almost religiously so. That there would not be an archivist here…” He shook his head again. “It troubles me. Come.”
They made their way to the back of the archives. Roine moved carefully, one hand hovering on the hilt of his sword. The muscles in his neck were tense and he stepped lightly across the stone. His head swiveled from side to side.
Tan crept alongside him, moving silently as he’d learned hunting in the woods around Nor. For the second time since coming to Ethea, he wished he had a weapon with him. Anything to keep him from feeling so helpless. Why hadn’t he at least grabbed his knife before leaving?
“You were here?” Roine whispered.
Tan nodded. “He took us lower.” He pointed toward the large iron door at the back of the room.
Roine looked around again, a shaping seeping from him. When satisfied, he reached the door and ran his hand along the outside edge. “It’s sealed. Shaped closed.”
Tan studied the door and saw what Roine meant. Where the iron met the surrounding stone, it had melted, seeping into the stone so the door couldn’t be easily opened.
“Can you shape it?”
Roine’s mouth was tight as he nodded. “Something like this took great skill. I may not be as skilled a fire shaper, but I should be able to…yes.”
The pressure of Roine’s shaping built and built until he released it in a flash. This time, Tan could almost make out what Roine did. The metal peeled away from the stone, curling out and rolling back toward the door. The stone itself shook, rumbling softly until it separated fully from the iron.
Roine pul
led on the door and it opened with a soft squeal.
He let out a breath. “More skilled than I imagined. You must be right. I don’t think one of our fire shapers would be able to manage such a shaping. Had I not shaped the stone at the same time…”
Roine started down the stairs. As he did, he lit the lanterns along the wall so they gave off a soft glow. “I’ve never been this deep into the archives. The archivists barely let me reach the back room, and that was when I was known as Theondar. As Roine…” He shook his head, peering into the depths far below. “Where were you taken?”
“Down.”
Tan moved past Roine and led him deeper into the lower levels of the archives. Tan watched the landings, looking for the door the archivist led them into, finally finding it several levels down.
The door looked as it had before. Tan grasped the round handle with a lock in the center and twisted, pushing open the door. “This is where we were taken. The archivist locked us in from this side.”
Roine frowned at the door. “Strange that it should be locked from the outside.”
Inside, the room looked much as it had the last time Tan had been here. The single shelf stood in the middle of the room. Tan looked up, eyes taking in the dark hole in the stone of the ceiling, still surprised he had somehow managed to shape the opening. But if he hadn’t, the fire shaper would have caught them. Who knows what would have happened next?
“What happened here?” Roine asked. “Why did the fire shaper burn through the ceiling?”
Tan shook his head, feeling a flush come over his cheeks. “That wasn’t the fire shaper. That was me.”
Roine jerked his head around. “You did that?”
Tan nodded.
“You melted stone?”
Tan frowned. “Melted? No, that was an earth shaping.”
Roine laughed. The sound felt out of place in the somber archives, especially given as on edge as they had been. “That’s a fire shaping, Tan. And a strong one. Didn’t the stone feel hot as you climbed through it?”
It had felt warm to him—hot to Amia, he remembered—but he thought that had more to do with the stone moving than anything else. “Are you sure that’s a fire shaping?”
Bound by Fire (The Cloud Warrior Saga Book 2) Page 12