Chased by Fire (The Cloud Warrior Saga Book 1)

by D. K. Holmberg

  Streamers of flame burst all around him, leaping from the ground and stretching high into the sky, slowly encircling him. Tan saw this and stepped back, raising his hands instinctively. The wind whipped around him, a cool blast from out over the lake, making the flames flicker and dance though not disappear. Fire pushed back, surging more powerfully, and he took another halting step backward.

  The whooshing in his ears increased and it was all he heard, drowning the crackle of the flames and the low, dry laugh of the lisincend, covering even the deep, rumbling growl he felt from the nearby hounds.

  Tan wanted to scream. Everything they had been through, everything they had seen, and now he would lose. Amia still wouldn’t be safe.

  There came another surge of wind, blowing spray off the lake toward the lisincend. As it mixed with the flames, steam and smoke sizzled away. Still the flames pressed Tan backward. His foot touched water and he sunk, losing his balance, and faltered. Now daring to glance over at the rocks, he looked for Amia and saw her staring at him, her eyes wide and fearful. She had not run as he had asked.

  “Stop!” she commanded.

  Her words hummed with energy, and Tan froze, unable to do anything except obey her. The flames in front of Tan flickered and faded and the glow around the lisincend went from bright orange to reddish to a dark glow.

  “Leave us!” Amia yelled.

  Her words were a thunderclap and not to be ignored. The energy behind them rivaled what the lisincend channeled.

  One of the hounds hiding within the forest whined. Another ceased growling and simply howled. The lisincend looked from Tan over to Amia. And then laughed.

  “Impressive. Though I cannot be so easily swayed.” It started toward Amia. “You will be useful,” it hissed. Raising an arm, it sent a blast of heat toward Tan.

  Tan was not prepared for it, could not have prepared for it.

  The heat hit him like a hammer, throwing him up and into the air, tossing him roughly into the water. Pain burned across his chest and through him, eating through his flesh. He smelled himself burning as he struck the water. The air had been sucked from his lungs and he couldn’t cry out.

  As he sank, he saw a last glimmer of Amia, saw sadness written upon her face, then he faded into the darkness of the water.

  24

  A Lesser Elemental

  Tan didn’t awaken, not truly.

  Water flowed around him yet he had the sensation he was sinking. Something told him not to take a breath and he obeyed, though not really sure why. The water was cool and strangely comforting. He drifted, slowly lowering to the soft bed of the lake, before sinking into the sand. It swirled around his arms and legs, holding him gently.

  Distantly, he was aware of movement around him. At first it was a simple fluttering, a soft ripple in the water around his face, but it increased in strength and urgency.

  Tan opened his eyes and looked around. Somehow he breathed, yet did not. He couldn’t explain it, knowing only that he did not feel the urge to take a breath. Still his chest moved slowly as if he did. The water was murky, dark, and shimmered with a faint light only visible along the floor of the lake, like stars in the night sky.

  He was dreaming. Or dying. Tan didn’t know and was no longer sure that he cared.

  The rippling water around him ceased and he turned his head, looking for whatever had caused it. Slowly, he became aware of a soft pressure in his ears, now familiar, and wondered who was shaping nearby. This was different, though, a more gentle shaping, a slow buildup, and without the threat of pain like he’d felt so often before.

  Something swam past his face, translucent and moving quickly. Tan couldn’t see what it was, having only a sense of great size. He struggled to move but his arms were stuck in the sand and his legs didn’t move. Only his head and neck were his own. The movement came again, flitting past him, more slowly this time, and a trail of glowing pale green slid past.

  A fish? An eel? Tan didn’t know what creatures called these deep mountain lakes home, and this one was larger than most, fed by countless springs. What else could swim past him, taunting him as he died?

  He should feel fear, should be concerned about this strange creature swimming around him and the fact that he couldn’t move, but all he felt was a sense of peace and serenity.

  And then a face appeared in front of him.

  Not that of a man or any other animal he had ever seen. Rather, this face seemed formed of the water itself, soft, undulating, and nearly translucent as it shimmered with a faint green. The face flowed with a light energy, hovering in front of him. There was no sign of body, only the face. Only then did he feel the beginnings of nervousness.

  The face smiled. What are you?

  No lips moved, yet the voice was plainly heard, as if spoken in his head. The voice was foreign and gentle yet there was an underlying command to the question. He sensed a shaping similar to what Amia had used upon him.

  Tan tried to open his mouth to answer but found he could not. His lips, like nearly every other part of his body, didn’t respond to his direction. How, then, could he answer?

  I am Tan, he thought.

  He heard the words clearly. Somehow he knew they carried through the water to the strange creature.

  The pressure in his ears piqued gently before easing. It didn’t completely disappear.

  What is a Tan?

  That’s my name, Tan thought, and again the words carried. How is this possible?

  He hadn’t meant to ask the question, only thinking the words, but his thoughts carried like words.

  A name? It seemed to smile. Then you are human.

  Tan nodded. Of course. It came out quickly, unintentionally, and Tan shook his head. What are you?

  The creature appeared to smile. I? Not I. Nymid.

  Nymid? That is your name?

  The creature seemed to smile again. Not my name.

  Suddenly dozens of faces surrounded Tan, each similar to the first, yet with enough differences that he realized they were distinct creatures. The soft pressure increased painlessly. He realized these creatures were shaping.

  How was this happening? Was he dreaming? If he dreamt, how did he breathe?

  The first nymid smiled again. Breathe?

  Humans require air, another of the creatures answered.

  Tan looked but could not tell which spoke, though wondered if it mattered. The nymid communicated with thought and what one thought, they all heard.

  What are nymid?

  Tan felt a sense almost like a smile and then there came the sense of fluttering all around.

  Nymid are water.

  Water. Did that mean they were elementals?

  Most knew so little about the elementals, only that they existed. How else to explain sensing and shaping? Yet he’d never known anyone to actually speak to them. How could he do it now?

  He tried moving his arms but, stuck as he was in the sand, he could not. Why can’t I move?

  You were injured, one of the nymid said.

  Tan looked down but could see nothing of the rest of his body, only the soft sand that covered him. He remembered the blast, the force of the heat that hit him like a physical weapon, and the brief excruciating pain as his flesh burned from him.

  He should not have survived.

  The soft pressure in his ears told him the nymid had saved him. Were still saving him.

  Why help me?

  The nymid’s face lost the smile and for the first time, Tan felt something other than peace from the creature. A subtle agitation came from the creature, from all of them. The softly glowing light surrounding the creatures flickered quickly and Tan sensed that they communicated in other ways.

  I’m sorry, he thought quickly, feeling a surge of fear. But I don’t understand why you would help me.

  The flickering lights around the creatures slowed and the first nymid smiled slightly. Twisted Fire. You oppose Twisted Fire and help the Daughter.

  Tan didn’t fully unde
rstand. Twisted Fire? he asked as realization came to him. The lisincend. He pictured the creature with the thought. There was a slight shimmering in the water near Tan and the image of the lisincend appeared, hazy but there.

  The nymid turned to the picture and a long-fingered arm appeared and wiped the image away, leaving nothing but ripples and a glowing trail in the water. Twisted Fire, it agreed. Fire is natural, is part of the world, exists with it, like water, it said, waving its arm through the water as it spoke. Twisted Fire is unnatural and should not be.

  And the hounds? They seemed to share some of the same traits as the lisincend, able to hide themselves in a smoky haze much like the lisincend. Were they born of fire as well?

  The water rippled into the shape of one of the hounds before slowly disappearing. Like Twisted Fire, they are unnatural. The other nymid faded then, gradually growing more and more translucent until they were but a trail of faint glowing green.

  The first nymid remained, staring at him as if waiting, though Tan had no idea what it would be waiting for.

  And the Daughter?

  The nymid did not respond but did not need to. Tan suddenly understood.

  Amia?

  The Great Mother’s hand rests upon her.

  The nymid waved a thin arm through the water again, soft glowing ripples following it, and another image formed, this time of Amia held bound and gagged, with a ring of fire around her like a cage. Trapped and captured by the lisincend. One of the hounds rested nearby, watching her.

  You must help the Daughter. Twisted Fire must be cleansed from the land.

  They are too powerful for me. This happened, he started, thinking of his injuries, the last time I faced them.

  He could barely sense his arms and legs trapped beneath the sand. Even if he were able to move, there was nothing he could do against one of the lisincend. The creatures were powerful. He had nothing like their ability.

  The nymid stretched its long glowing arm toward Tan and touched him on the forehead with a thin, faintly glowing finger. A warmth seeped into his head, just under the skin, and worked its way around his neck and down, through his chest and into his buried arms and legs. A surge of energy flooded through him. He would have gasped had he been able to open his mouth to do so.

  There was something familiar about their presence, their energy. Tan could not quite place what it was, but recognized it.

  Unbidden, the memory of Roine’s blast and their flight over the trees came to mind. He recalled the energy that had seemed to pull at them, guiding them.

  You?

  The nymid did not answer. There was only a flittering of movement, more imagined than real. Instead, the nymid turned to him. You must help the Daughter.

  The sand of the lakebed eased and relaxed and his arms were freed. Something squeezed him from below and he was pushed free, oozing forward. As he was released, he looked down at his chest. A large burn had torn his shirt, leaving much of the cloth singed. The skin underneath that should have been burned was instead unmarked.

  The water began to buoy him forward, lifting him out of the water. Tan turned to the nymid that had started to fade.

  Thank you.

  The nymid smiled. There is no need for thanks. The Mother smiles upon you, as well. There was only a trace of the nymid remaining, a faint glow. You will see, it whispered.

  Then Tan broke the surface of the water. The night was dark and the clouds hung low and thick, illuminated by a faint glowing across the water. At first he felt nothing, then a sharp burning began in his chest, tearing through him with a pain unlike anything he had known. Had the healing the nymid worked upon him failed? Had it all only been a dream?

  Yet when he looked down, he saw his skin unmarked. He heard a soft voice, like a whisper, come up from beneath him, and he strained against the pain in his chest to hear.

  Breathe.

  And he understood. After his time under the water, he had forgotten to breathe.

  Tan opened his mouth and took a deep and painful breath, like a newborn baby taking its first gasp of air. Cool air entered his lungs. Slowly the pain subsided, fading until it was gone. Tan scissored his legs as he reacquainted himself with the concept of breathing, and his body relaxed.

  Tan was able to take stock of where he was. Somehow, he had been thrown far into the lake, practically into the middle. He swam, careful not to make too much noise. He needed to reach Amia, the force of her shaping still compelling him.

  Tan scanned the shoreline, searching for what the nymid had shown. Across the faintly glowing water, he saw a nearly identical scene. At the edge of the forest, as far away from the lake that it could be, streamers of flame stretched from the ground nearly twenty feet into the air, staggered only a hand’s width apart and forming a fiery cage. Within the cage Amia hunched, hugging her legs, her head down. Tan did not need to see her hands to know they were tied, nor her mouth to know she was gagged.

  Outside the cage of fire sat one of the hounds, larger than any Tan had seen before. The beast sat watching Amia. Even from his distance, the hound’s eyes carried a dark intelligence. There was no sign of the lisincend, but Tan knew it must be near.

  Protect me.

  The words rang needlessly through his head. Amia looked up suddenly, her dark eyes staring out toward the water. Was it his imagination, or did they widen?

  She shook her head slowly, as if warning him away, then looked back down toward her feet.

  The hound near her growled softly. The sound carried across the water, a throaty rumble. It stood and sniffed the air and Tan ducked under the cover of the lake, fearful the hound could smell him.

  He stayed underwater, swimming slowly toward the shore, carefully coming up only long enough to catch a quick breath before diving down again. He was able to hold his breath longer than he remembered, though wasn’t sure whether that was real or imagined. The light from the cage of fire was visible even underwater as Tan made his way toward the flames, toward Amia, still unsure how he would rescue her alone.

  The water gradually became shallower. Now he could touch the bottom of the lake. The ground was different than the sand that held him under. Strands of thick green vines grew from the bottom, sending soft fingers toward the surface. The faint green glowing of the water he’d seen was no longer visible.

  Tan peeked over the surface of the water, barely enough to get his eyes and his nose above the surface, and took a deep, slow breath. The air was much warmer here. Somewhere nearby the lisincend waited.

  The bright light from the flames making up Amia’s prison made it hard for him to see anything else. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, stretching his awareness, sensing the forest as his father had taught him long ago. The warm air smelled of char and soot. There was no real movement in the night, no animals or wind or even insects; yet Tan did feel something where nothing had been seen before. A void, an emptiness that should not be.

  They are unnatural.

  He heard the words echoed in his mind, like a whisper, or a memory of a whisper. Tan shivered, knowing the truth to the nymid’s words. Opening his eyes, he focused on the spot where he had sensed the void, peering through the darkness and the distracting bright light of the fire. There he saw a dark smudge different than the surrounding darkness.

  Tan squinted in an attempt to block the firelight. Pressure built in his ears. A cool breeze blew in from the lake, and Tan took a deep breath, savoring the change. Where the air hit the dark haze hiding the lisincend, the veil shimmered and lifted, if only briefly. Three lisincend stood near the cage of fire. Two spoke to each other while the third stared toward the ring of fire and Amia, as if holding her prison in place. Fur stood larger than the others, taller and wider.

  Fur suddenly stopped, twisting and looking out over the water, and sniffed. “He is here.” His words were dry, like tearing parchment.

  Tan froze and slipped back under the water, fearful that he’d been discovered. Holding his breath, he peered through t
he water and out toward the lisincend. He could do nothing for Amia if he was captured.

  “Where?”

  The question was muffled as the word carried out over the water and down toward him. Tan heard a rumble of thunder and could almost feel it as it echoed through the valley.

  “Out there,” Fur answered. “I can smell his shaping.”

  Shaping? Not him then, but worse. Someone else.

  What else would the lisincend be sensing? What shaper did they expect?

  Tan tilted his head back, barely enough to get his mouth out of the water to take a breath. A loud crack of lightning came and was quickly followed by a long peal of thunder. Light split the sky, and Tan looked at the lisincend. Their attention remained on the clouds.

  “He will be displeased,” one of the lisincend hissed.

  Fur laughed. “He is always displeased.”

  Another blast of lightning followed his words, nearer this time.

  “At least we have the girl.”

  Fur laughed again and it was a frightening sound. “She lives,” he agreed. “For now.”

  The first raindrops hit the surface of the water softly but growing harder, sharper, and building to a downpour. The pressure in his ears had built again and held steady, piercing painfully through his head. A powerful shaping was taking place.

  One of the lisincend snarled. “He knows not to come with the rain.”

  Fur grunted, then stopped, peering into the dark sky and watching as the rain came toward them, growing more violent as it did. The air around the lisincend hissed and sizzled, and steam rose from the creatures where the water struck their skin. The strange fiery cage still burned, and Amia remained trapped inside her hot prison.

  “He would not,” Fur said. Heat surged from the lisincend and the air around it popped, turning the rain into a hot blanket of steam.