“I need to test this,” Oliver said. He didn’t know if Yanda had been compromised as well, but she was one of the senior healers and of high enough ranking in the guild that she would be a target as well. She was also his closest friend.
“Tell me again what you think this will do? Because it looks to me like a weapon.”
“Maybe it is, but the man who gave it to me said it can be used to protect myself and others.” That wasn’t exactly what Cheneth had claimed, but close enough that he figured it didn’t matter.
Yanda eyed the device, shifting her robe. She was as petite and slender as Oliver was tall and fat. Quite unlike most healers in that. Water often attracted those with certain body types, though both Yanda and Jasn were not like him, and both were incredibly skilled shapers. “And this is some sort of spirit stick?”
Oliver laughed, releasing some of the tension that he felt at practicing on Yanda. Spirit stick seemed as good a name for it as any. “That’s what I was told.”
“I don’t like the idea of your trying it on—”
He didn’t let her finish, shaping through the spirit stick. The marks began to glow, the shaping building, and Oliver pointed it in her direction. He didn’t know if he needed to aim the stick, but it seemed logical.
As the shaping struck Yanda, an awareness of her filled him.
He recognized her anxiety and the fear she felt with him pointing the stick in her direction. He detected her willingness to even let him attempt this because of the friendship they shared. There was more, but Oliver feared holding the connection any longer and released the shaping.
Light in the marks on the stick fizzled out, fading to nothing.
“Thanks for the warning,” Yanda said, glaring at him.
Oliver stared at it. Balls! The damned thing worked.
“You’re looking at it like you’ve found a new way to use water,” Yanda said.
Oliver let out a soft whistle. “Not water, but maybe something better. Did it hurt?”
Yanda shook her head. “I felt a warmth, but nothing else. Not unpleasant, only unexpected. Like I said, a warning would have been nice.”
“Consider this your warning.”
Oliver shaped through the spirit stick again. The device might limit him more than his own shaping ability. Fire was weakest to him, and he added that last, pushing it through the device.
The marks on the side started to glow softly once more.
When he pointed it at Yanda, he released the shaping. The release was easier this time, and he felt as if he could control it better. As before, he had a sudden awareness of her, a recognition of emotions he did not possess. This time, there was not the fear and trepidation he’d detected the first time. There was more curiosity and a hint of eagerness.
He maintained the shaping, continuing to push it through the spirit stick.
Emotions turned to something else. He had flickers of memories, but they were not his. He saw as Yanda must have seen, memories of coming to his room, of her time in the guild, and even deeper memories—the first time she had shaped water and when she had come to Atenas, scared and alone, worried she would not be able to learn…
“Enough,” Yanda whispered.
Oliver released the shaping.
“You could feel what I did that time?”
“I had memories I haven’t thought of in years,” she said softly. “It’s as if that dredged them up.”
“I saw them,” Oliver said. “As if I were there.”
Yanda blinked. “You saw them?”
Oliver considered the spirit stick. Having possession of it was much more powerful than Cheneth had let on. And it was something he needed to fear losing possession of. If someone else used this, or understood what it could do…
“Let me try it,” Yanda asked.
Were it any other person than her, he would not. But he trusted her as she had trusted him.
She held it, rubbing the pad of her thumb over the etchings along the side. “Do you think these give it the power?”
“I don’t know what they do. I think them similar to what others do with their swords.”
The Guild of Healers didn’t use swords. Those from the order each had one—they were of the order after all—but none in the guild ever carried theirs.
“You said you shape through it?”
“Each element. You don’t need much.”
Yana smiled. “Probably good for you,” she said with a laugh.
Her shaping built. As a water shaper, he was naturally attuned to other shapings, but as the head of the guild, he was even more so. He wondered what would have happened had he not noticed that the Seat attempted to shape him. Perhaps that was why they had gone after him first.
The patterns on the side of the spirit stick began to glow.
“Now what?” Yanda asked.
“I pointed it at you, but I don’t know if that matters. It’s not really all that different than any other shaping, only that you need to direct it through the stick first and then to your target.”
He could tell when she released the shaping.
Warmth washed over him. As she had said, it was not an unpleasant sensation, but one whose effects he could feel. It would not be something he could hide, even if he knew how.
Yanda sucked in a breath. “You’re afraid.”
“You would be too if you had been called before the Seat and they tried to shape you.”
The memory came into focus, almost as if he were reliving it. He saw the faces of the council as they stared at them, could once again feel the pressure of their shaping as they attempted to reach him. In the memory, he could shift his attention and saw the way that Margo watched him, the pattern that she drummed with her fingers on the table…
Then it faded. His thoughts drifted back to the first time he saw Volth, and the raw power the man possessed. They were both younger then, and Volth still new to Atenas but willing to learn, eager to learn, and not the hardened soldier who had come to him recently. Oliver remembered the way he had asked Jasn if he wanted to learn of water and the way water could be used to heal and help. That Jasn Volth had a light of excitement in his eyes, not the drawn darkness, the anger he had seen…
The next memory was of Oliver’s arrival in Atenas. How many years ago had that been? More than thirty? Enough that Oliver no longer thought about it, but the city had been different at that time, simpler in some ways, a place before the war. The warriors who taught had welcomed him, but they had required hard work and diligence. Oliver had come to water soonest, which he had known he would. Water sensing had come to him from an early age, a time before he had felt welcomed, back when his parents…
“Enough,” he said.
The shaping eased and then faded, and Oliver was taken out of the memories.
Stars, but the thing was powerful.
Yanda passed the stick back over to him, and he tucked it into his pocket, feeling guilty about the fact that he possessed it at all. Something with the ability to force people to have memories could not only be useful to understand what the Seat might be after, but dangerous as well.
“I saw your memories,” Yanda said. “It was like I was there, like I was looking through your eyes. How is that possible?”
Oliver took a steadying breath. Getting back to those earliest memories of when he had come to Atenas was painful. His time in the city had not always been happy, or easy, but more so than before he had come here. More than anything, that was the reason he had to stay and had to do what he could to determine if there was something more taking place with the order.
“I didn’t think it was possible. But this,” he said, patting his pocket, “this makes it possible.”
“You said this came from a man you knew?”
He hated that he had to deceive Yanda about it, but he didn’t want to expose Cheneth. “A scholar named Eldridge.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “The bishop.”
“I’m not so sure he apprecia
tes that title.”
Yanda laughed softly. “He’s earned it, don’t you think? That would be like you not wanting to be called Master Bestrun.”
“Eldridge is… Well, he’s different.”
And that was the reason he had departed Atenas. Part of it. Eldridge had always been an eager learner, but when he received the promotions Oliver had thought he wanted, something had changed in his friend, and he had departed the city. For a man who could have risen high within the college, Eldridge chose a different route.
“And he gave this to you because of the memory that I saw? The one with you in front of the Seat?”
Oliver nodded. “That’s why he gave it to me. He thought it important for me to be able to defend myself if needed. And I think he wanted to know the extent of the change to the council.”
“You will do this? You will try to determine what happened?” When he nodded, she tapped him hard on the chest. She might be small, but she wasn’t weak. “You will be careful, Oliver Bestrun.”
“I won’t put the guild in danger.”
“It’s not the guild that I fear for,” she said. “The guild is a part of the order, but we’re old enough that we won’t fall simply because the order demands it of us. No, what I worry about is you. If you do this, make certain that you’re safe. If that memory I saw was true—”
“It was.”
“—then you need to be careful.”
Oliver forced a smile and created a shaping that obscured his face, making him appear more like a reflection of Yanda. After seeing Cheneth create the shaping, he had practiced with that as well. He couldn’t modify his height, and he still didn’t know what to do about his girth—both of which identified him nearly as well as his face—but he could hide his face now and maintain the shaping with barely more than a trickle of water. He couldn’t hide the shaping, not like Cheneth had demonstrated, but with all the shaping that took place within the tower, that might not be necessary.
“I can be careful,” he said, releasing the shaping.
“That… that might just be useful,” Yanda said. “But you’ll have to keep working on it. No one will ever believe I’m quite that tall.”
He laughed. If he was going to do this, at least he had Yanda on his side.
20
Ciara
I continue to ponder the problem of Atenas. If the order is compromised, I must assume the commander a part of it. I do not think Volth involved, but his connection to water has prevented me from knowing with certainty.
—Rolan al’Sand, Enlightened of Hyaln
Ciara snuck into the woods, making her way carefully toward the spot she remembered finding the draasin pen. She had waited a day, but something she’d overheard Cheneth say had stuck with her. Was it possible she could learn to summon the draasin while it was there with her?
After what had happened the last time she attempted a summons, she wasn’t sure she wanted to try, but she had to. How else would she learn what she needed? And she suspected the comment had been intended for her.
Finding the clearing proved more difficult than she expected, almost as if there was something that prevented her from reaching it. The illusion had prevented her from even seeing the draasin the last time. She wouldn’t be too surprised if there was something else that kept her from it.
With a frustrated sigh, she stopped between a pair of trees and leaned on her j’na. In Ter, she had used the spear as more of a walking stick than any sort of weapon. The only time she had needed her spear—really needed it—had been when Tenebeth had attacked, and then she had fallen where she couldn’t reach it, leaving it essentially useless.
How could she find the draasin if the way was obscured? Jasn Volth had managed to find her, but then he had skill with water that she had never witnessed before. Could she use something similar?
Ciara knew the way the draasin felt to her water sensing. There was heat to draasin blood, a powerful pulsing within their veins. Could she listen for that?
She closed her eyes and focused. Keeping her eyes closed did nothing to increase her sensitivity to water, but it did help keep her mind off distractions. Water pressed all around, overwhelming her in some ways. When in Rens, she had to search throughout deserts and rock to find any sign of moisture. Here, it was everywhere.
First, she focused on her own heartbeat. That was the easiest to detect.
It pulsed steadily, slower than it had while in Rens—probably related to the fact that she drank as often as she did. From there, Ciara reached for the other source of water that she knew well, the stream that cut through the mountains before spilling out into a small pond near the camp, where many of the Ter shapers bathed. And then drank from the same water. Learning that, she always made a point of going upstream to collect water. With the stream, she thought she knew where she had gone with Jasn Volth but wasn’t certain. She traced along, using the trees and the moisture that flowed through them, enough water to sustain her village for days. She tracked that, searching first for the edge of the clearing.
She found it.
Ciara raced forward, holding the image of the clearing in her mind, letting her ability with water guide her as she went. Even so, something attempted to distract her and push her away, but she held on, forcing herself to stay focused.
Then she reached the edge of the trees.
The clearing seemed different than before. There remained the stink of heat mixed with the fresh scent of earth and grass, but there was something else here as well that reminded her of one of the lizards in Rens, too stupid to crawl off the rocks in the daytime, left rotting in the sun.
Ciara paused and raised her j’na as she entered the clearing.
When she stepped past the illusion, the cold sense washed over her again.
She tensed, readying for whatever she might find.
But there was only the draasin, still curled along the stone building. She looked up as Ciara approached, and her tail flicked slightly, but then she rested her head on the ground once more.
Standing in the presence of the draasin, she wondered what she was doing. Did she really intend to reach the creature? If the summons worked, how would she even know?
Maybe all she needed to do was attempt the summoning.
Ciara took a deep breath. The first step. That was what she needed to take. Then the pattern would take over, and each step would follow almost on its own.
But would she be able to summon the draasin while it lay here? And if it went wrong, would she be the reason that Tenebeth attacked again? He already had claimed the draasin once; if she brought his attention back to the draasin, or even to herself, there would be nothing she could do to oppose him.
Ciara pushed the doubt away.
She took a step and jabbed her j’na to the ground.
Even as soft as the ground was, there still came a sharp crack.
The draasin lifted her head.
Ciara took another step. Crack. Step.
The pattern fell into place in her mind. The steps began to come, one after another, each one easier than the last. The j’na hit the ground, the sound muted but still loud.
As she moved, she watched the draasin. If the elemental attacked, there might be little that Ciara could do to avoid it, but she had to try the summoning.
The draasin shifted. First, she drew in her legs and then pulled her tail around her.
Ciara paused.
The draasin turned her eyes toward her and Ciara felt for a moment as if she knew what the draasin was thinking. The moment passed.
She took another step. Crack. And another.
The j’na seemed to jump from her hand, and the draasin glass on the end caught the light, sending it out around her in a brilliant display.
It hadn’t done that with other summons she’d completed, had it?
Ciara couldn’t remember, and she didn’t want to risk stopping, not now when the pattern was so fresh in her mind.
Step. Crack. Step.
&nb
sp; Light burst from the draasin glass.
As it did, she felt something behind her.
Ciara feared turning and disrupting the pattern, but the draasin snorted fire.
Spinning, she saw a man dressed all in black near the edge of the illusion. Not only his clothing but his skin, as if it had been burned. Even his eyes were black.
Ciara recognized him. The rider.
He’d died… hadn’t he?
“You will not have her!” Ciara said.
The man took a step forward. Power built from him. Dark power. That of Tenebeth.
Fear formed in her belly and worked like a cold vise around her insides.
The draasin snorted again and the man smiled.
Tenebeth had come to reclaim the draasin.
The man walked past her, ignoring Ciara completely, and reached a hand toward the draasin. The great fire elemental tried moving back, but her eyes clouded. If Ciara did nothing, Tenebeth would have this draasin.
Ciara couldn’t let him. She wouldn’t let him.
She snapped the j’na to the ground. Light surged again from the draasin-glass tip of her spear.
The man glanced over. His eyes widened as they took in the sight of the spear, then settled on the draasin glass.
Ciara lunged toward him. Pressure built around her as if some sort of resistance attempted to restrain her, but she fought against it, slicing through it with her j’na. The spear reached the man, and he pressed his hands together, forcing what looked to be a cloud of darkness from his palms.
Ciara pressed, but the darkness gradually began to overwhelm the light coming from her j’na. Without having a way to bring it back, she would fail.
The man smiled. “You could be impressive. I understand why he wants you too.”
Ciara clenched her jaw. “I will never go to Tenebeth.”
“That’s between you and him. I’m here for her.”
Ciara did the only thing she could think of. She slashed with the j’na, freeing it from the dark cloud erupting from his hands, and spun. She brought the end of the spear around, connecting with the man’s back and sending him staggering forward.
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