Then he pressed through the connection he and Amia shared. She gasped softly but quickly took control. She guided the shaping, adding her touch to spirit, twisting and weaving it so that it layered over Cora. As she worked, Tan began to recognize some of what she did, almost as if holding this much spirit gave him insight. It was healing, but it was more than that. There was a questing to what she shaped, a search for understanding.
He felt the shaping as it moved through Cora. There was resistance at first and then he detected a void, a sense of nothingness that should not exist. Wrapped around the void, he sensed a shaping of spirit, layered many times, built by Amia and the First Mother.
Tan recognized the emptiness, and saw how to heal Cora, suddenly understanding that Amia and the First Mother would not be able to do it alone. Drawing through the sword, he pulled on each of the elements, mixing them together and adding this to spirit. He sent this shaping through the connection, through Amia.
“No, Tan—”
The shaping settled in Cora, filling the void. There was a flash and she moaned. Her breathing stopped and, for a moment, it seemed her heart stopped. The emptiness filled, expanding with the addition of the elements. Amia lost control of the shaping—she could handle spirit, but the others were more than she could manage—and Tan took over, recognizing what needed to be done.
He pressed the shaping directly now. The void began to disappear, filled with elemental power, until only the shaping around the remnants remained. Drawing on spirit, he peeled the layers placed by Amia and the First Mother away. Spirit flooded through her, expanding outward, pulled by the draw upon the sword.
Tan lost control and spirit flooded from him. Awareness filled him, reminding him of the day he had stepped in the pool of liquid spirit.
What had he been thinking? He didn’t know enough to control this shaping. Amia might not even know enough to control this shaping.
Spirit continued to expand away from him, drawn by the sword. It exploded outward, flooding through Tan, through the sword, everywhere, until it faded.
Cora gasped.
Tan released the shaping. As he did, there was a familiar and distant sense, one he hadn’t heard in months. Tan wasn’t even sure he heard it correctly, but then it came again, echoing with his name, a sense of terror mixed in.
Elle?
He was certain it was her. As he thought he heard a response, he collapsed.
7
Warrior’s Return
Tan awoke on the hard floor. His back throbbed, and pain that hadn’t been there before pulsed in his mind. Flashes of light swam around him, almost like elementals. A strange woman leaned over him, looking down at him through deep brown eyes. It took him a moment to recognize Cora.
“You’re alive,” she said.
Tan grunted and rolled over, pushing to his knees. Amia lay next to him, her breathing slow and steady, his connection to her telling him that she was simply asleep rather than injured more seriously.
“I could say the same about you. What happened?”
Cora still sat on the bed and Tan surveyed the rest of the small room. The fire had faded to little more than nothing. With a soft shaping—one that came from her—flames suddenly leapt and danced, and saa was drawn to it. “Where am I?” she asked.
“Ethea. The kingdoms.”
“Ethea?” She said the name with a strange inflection, and her mouth pinched. “How? The last I remember, I was in Par-shon. There was pain… death… I…”
Tan breathed out slowly. His head hammered and throbbed. He felt more tired than he had in ages. What had happened to them as they shaped through the sword?
Then he remembered the voice he’d heard right before passing out. Elle’s voice. Of that, he was certain. It had come from a distance, but there was pain and urgency in the way she called to him.
He glanced at the sword lying near the end of the bed. When he was recovered, he would have to try shaping spirit again to see if he could reach Elle. If she needed help, he had to be there for her.
“You were in Par-shon,” Tan said, getting to his feet and checking on Amia. She stirred as he touched her and her eyes blinked open. A glaze over them told him that she wasn’t completely recovered. He drew upon the elementals for strength—it was one of the gifts of his bond—but she had no elemental to pull on. He ran his hand across her hair, soothing her as he looked up at Cora. “And now you’re not.”
“How is it that I am no longer there?” Cora asked. “How is it that I’m in the kingdoms? How is that any of this has happened?”
“Because I brought you out of there.” He faced the flames, feeling the draw of saa. He let the sense of the elemental fill him, the power rejuvenating. Some of the fatigue he felt faded. Soon he would be strong enough to shape safely again. He bent and picked up the sword, sheathing it quickly.
“You’re a warrior, then,” she said.
There was a firmness to her voice, a confidence that was so different from the woman he’d rescued. She was not afraid of the fact that he was a warrior. If anything, she seemed irritated that she had required the help of someone from the kingdoms.
“As are you,” he said.
Cora blinked and looked away. “Once, perhaps, but that person is no longer.”
“Who is that person?” he asked. “You’re not of the kingdoms, but where are you from?”
“You think the kingdoms the only place where shaping exists?” she asked. She stared at the fire dancing in the hearth.
Saa twisted and flickered, moving in ways Tan didn’t shape. Cora did. She pulled on the fire, the flames sliding and swirling, and he recognized a familiarity with fire that was different than anyone he’d ever seen. There was only one way she would reach the level of skill needed for what he saw.
“You’re from Incendin?” he asked.
She lifted her chin almost in defiance as she looked away from the fire. Tan recognized a stark confidence that told him he’d guessed right.
“It has been many years since I claimed the Sunlands as my home.” she said.
“How long were you in Par-shon?”
With the question, her shoulders sagged slightly. She touched her hair, smoothing it down. “I… I do not know. We have fought Par-shon far longer than we’ve fought with the kingdoms. The danger there forced some to shapings that are unsafe, even for those drawn to fire.”
“You were never interested in becoming one of the lisincend?” he asked, pressing a shaping through the summoning coin in his pocket, as well as through the ring he now wore. Roine would need to know what happened.
“You speak as if you understand the reason for the transformation, but there are many reasons to embrace fire.”
“Embrace fire? That’s what you would call it? How many are lost during the transformation? There are those in the kingdoms who suspect it’s close to half. Is it worth the price? Is it worth allowing fire to consume, to control them?”
Her head tilted slightly as she pronounced, very clearly, “Yes.”
Cora slipped off the bed, and leaned in front of the hearth, pausing to stare at the flames that danced within. Her hair appeared healthier, the gray completely gone. Tan had thought her older, possibly at least his mother’s age, but this woman could not have been more than ten years his senior.
When he had learned that she was from Incendin, he hadn’t meant to start a debate about the merits of the lisincend. Tan might be the only one who understood what it meant to touch that power and return, but there was no question in his mind that Incendin had a reason for turning its shapers into the lisincend. The threat of Par-shon had driven them to it. What would happen when the kingdoms got their first taste of the power of the Utu Tonah? What would their shapers do?
He’d already seen what the ancient shapers had done. Tan didn’t want to repeat the past.
He knelt next to Cora and placed his hand on the flat of her shoulder. She felt warm, more so than the flames in the fire could account for. The Inc
endin shaper did not turn to him.
“What did you lose?” he asked softly.
“Does it matter to you? I have gone from one prison to another, haven’t I?” She met his eyes. “If you’ve brought me to the kingdoms, I am no freer here than I ever was in Par-shon.”
Tan started to tell her that she wasn’t a prisoner here, but that might not be true. Could they let an Incendin warrior shaper free?
“When I was in Par-shon, I met another man, one from Doma.” He watched her as he spoke. Would she remember what had happened in Par-shon or had the trauma been too much? “A water shaper, one who had once been bonded to the udilm. He is safe now, too.”
“I remember…” she started, and then shook her head, “nothing. There are snatches of shapes and colors. Mostly pain.”
“There was another man,” he went on. “In worse shape than you, though I have hope that we will be able to heal him in time, too.”
Honesty would be needed. And Cora deserved to know. He might not have been able to get through to the lisincend he had once tried to heal, but he would get through to Cora.
“When I found you, it was in a place the Utu Tonah used for separation. They wanted to sever the bonds formed between shaper and elemental. I have not shaped long, and I have been bonded for only a little longer than I’ve known shaping, but that was possibly the worst pain I have ever known.”
Cora watched him for a long moment before speaking. “You know the bond?”
“I speak to the elementals.”
“Which?”
“All of them.”
The ring on his finger tightened at the same instant a heavy pounding on the door made them both jump. Roine had come.
Tan opened the door, surprised to see Roine hadn’t come alone. Cianna stood behind him, red hair wild and a tight maroon shirt flowing over her curves. She offered him a wide smile. Even more surprisingly, the First Mother leaned against the wall behind them both. When Roine moved to his right, the First Mother craned her neck, as if to see inside the room. She nodded and tottered away without speaking.
“Tan. You summoned,” Roine said.
He stepped to the side to let Roine see Cora. She straightened, pulling away from the fire, and faced him. Her face revealed nothing.
Roine stepped into the room. “I am Theondar Roardan, king regent.”
Cora glanced past him to Cianna. She seemed to hesitate as she saw the bright red hair. “And I am Corasha Saladan.”
Cianna sucked in a breath. Tan felt her shaping as she readied it.
“You have heard of me?” she asked Cianna.
Roine gauged Cianna’s reaction before answering. “I have not. But that my fire shaper has tells me you are from Incendin. Did you know?” he asked Tan, not removing his focus from Cora.
“Only since she’s been healed.”
“What happened to Amia?” he asked, glancing to where Amia still slumped unmoving on the ground.
“The shaping got away from us,” Tan explained. “As we healed Cora, there was a void.” He explained a little of what had happened, leaving out what he’d sensed of Elle for now.
“And you thought to seal it?” Roine asked.
“She didn’t deserve what happened to her in Par-shon. You know how they nearly took my bond. What would have happened had the Utu Tonah gained control of one of the draasin?”
Cora gripped his arm and jerked him around.
Cianna was there in a heartbeat, standing next to Tan, a shaping building quickly. Roine simply watched. Tan waved Cianna off. Perhaps he should, but he didn’t fear Cora, not as he did the other shapers of Incendin, and not as he did the lisincend. He knew what she had been through. What she needed now was understanding, not violence. They could use Incendin. They would have to if they were ever to survive an attack from Par-shon.
Cora stared at him with hot intensity. “You said draasin.”
“I did,” he said.
“They have been lost for centuries.”
At least now he knew she had been in Par-shon long enough to have missed him freeing the draasin. “They were lost,” Tan agreed.
“No longer?” she asked. Tan tipped his head in assent. “And you have bound one?”
“When I told you that I understood what you experienced in Par-shon, I told the truth. The Utu Tonah tried severing my connection to the draasin. He tried taking that bond for himself.”
Her face contorted, her lips forming odd shapes something like multiple words that wanted to be voiced simultaneously. “How is it you escaped?”
“The same way you were healed. The Utu Tonah cannot bond spirit.”
Cora stared at Amia. “She saved you?”
“I shape spirit, Cora,” he said, pulling her attention to himself.
She spent a moment in thought, studying both Roine and Tan but ignoring Cianna. “I have been held in Par-shon long enough for the Order of Warrior to return?” she asked, laughing bitterly. “And now you hold me here, hostage in another land of my enemies.”
Tan attempted a shaping of spirit to soothe her. Now that he’d recovered from the shaping that he and Amia had done, the elemental power refreshing him, he drew upon it easily. Cora rebuffed him, pushing back with a shaping of her own.
She knew how to block spirit. Knowing what the First Mother had done with the Doma shapers, it made sense that she would know. Perhaps he should have tried soothing her before revealing that he shaped spirit, but likely she had already placed protections around her mind when she awoke and saw Amia.
“We’re not your enemies,” he said. “We share a common threat.”
She frowned at him. “Common? Has Par-shon attacked your borders for the better part of a century? Has Par-shon taken all who bond to the elemental power? Has Par-shon stripped you of all your protections, leaving you with no choice but to embrace shapings that lead your most talented shapers to perish rather than remain able to serve their people, with those who do remain changed into something else, driven in ways you can never understand? Is that the enemy you face?”
Roine’s silence became somehow commanding. Tan bit back his answer and waited for the King Regent to speak. “You describe many of the kingdoms’ experiences with Incendin,” he said.
“The kingdoms? You cannot know what we face, the dangers that we have kept from our shores. Because of what the Sunlands has done, your kingdoms have remained safe.” She shifted her attention to Tan. “You didn’t even know the threat of Par-shon existed and now suddenly, you think to stop them?” She snorted, then sneered at Cianna. “And you, too weak to make the desert crossing, abandoning the ancient ties of our people.”
“Enough,” Tan said. He infused a shaping of spirit into his words.
They all looked at him.
“We did not heal you for you to insult our people,” he said.
“Then why did you heal me?”
“I…” Tan paused. He had healed her thinking she could help, that by healing Cora, they might better understand what drove Par-shon, perhaps find an ally in a warrior shaper. Now that he knew she was from Incendin, he wondered if he would even be able to get through to her. The divide between the kingdoms and Incendin might be too wide for them to reach agreement, but if they didn’t, both would eventually fall to Par-shon. “I saw what happened to you in Par-shon. I know what you’ve been through. I only wanted to help.”
“Help?” snorted Cora. “Help would have been the kingdoms offering aid rather than attacking centuries ago. Help would have been leaving me to die in Par-shon rather than bringing me here.” She raised her chin, a smug smile playing at the corners of her lips. “If you would really help, then you would release me so that I might return to the Sunlands.”
“You will have the freedom of this place,” Roine said. “But no more than that until I decide what will become of you.” To Tan, he said, “She will be your responsibility, your first as Athan.”
He took his leave before Tan could reply. Cianna lingered just long enoug
h to shoot Cora one more glare. Fire seethed from her skin, practically leaving her body glowing with heat as she made her way out of the small room.
Tan sighed and closed the door with a shaping of air.
Cora turned back to the hearth and said nothing more.
8
Shaping Spirit
Tan touched Amia’s fingers as they laced through his while she watched Cora. The Incendin shaper sat in the chair near the window, staring out upon Ethea. Her face was blank and she had not spoken since the confrontation with Roine and Cianna the day before. A warm breeze blew in, as it so often did around Tan, especially now that he had bonded to Honl.
“We were right to heal her,” Amia said.
Cora’s hands were clasped on the table and she twisted her fingers every now and again. It was the only thing that told him she wasn’t as mute as when he had first found her. The breakfast he’d set in front of her was uneaten.
“I know that we were,” he said. “I only wish that the others would see it the same way.”
Roine had not returned. Tan knew that meant nothing in particular. Roine would often be gone for days at a time, but this felt different. He had expected to hear something by now, if only to send word of what he planned with Cora. This silence felt almost stifling.
“The others think of what they’ve been through at the hands of Incendin,” Amia said.
“You’ve been through the same.”
“Had I known that she comes from Incendin, I don’t know that I would have worked as hard to save her. Perhaps it was best that I didn’t know. This way, she was given a chance. No one deserves what was done to her.”
“You still would have tried to heal her,” Tan said.
Conflicting emotions crossed over Amia’s face. “Maybe.”
“We can use them,” Tan said softly. “We will have to if we intend to survive Par-shon.”
“Only a few know what Par-shon is capable of doing, Tan, but all have seen what Incendin will do. They have seen the way that they attack, they have seen the city nearly fall, and the way they hurt and kill and twist…” Amia took a deep breath and shook away the tension that had started to fill her. “It’s why you’re the only one who can do what’s needed.”
Cloud Warrior 05 - Forged in Fire Page 7