Jasn realized that he could feel the draasin’s aggression. It was controlled energy coiled within the beast, and he feared that the moment he released his shaping, it would snap back on him and the creature would lunge. How did Wyath feel comfortable enough to actually touch it? It was bad enough when Jasn stood away from her.
“But she’s nothing like she was. You were there when Alena and Calan brought her in. And with me the next day. This,” he said, patting the side of the draasin, “this comes from the weeks spent shaping her. Pretty soon, there won’t be much fight left. Then we can really begin working with her.”
The comment startled Jasn so much that he lost control of his shaping. The draasin’s eyes flicked to him and she started to lunge, but Wyath was there, holding her in place.
“Working with her? As in training?”
“I suspect that’s Cheneth’s goal, but we haven’t found one we can train. We try young and old, but so far nothing has worked. Eventually, we’ll get there.”
A commotion in the street outside drew Jasn’s attention. Someone shouted, and he heard boots racing past and then another shout. He turned toward the door to the pen, wondering what might be happening.
As he turned, heat surged, and Wyath grunted. The ground rumbled as the draasin jerked on her chains, sending Jasn sprawling forward.
He glanced back to see Wyath lying next to the draasin, the chain on top of him. The creature had somehow pulled on the chain and sent Wyath to the ground. A soft moan came from him and the draasin strained again, twisting her head toward the old warrior, her tail already starting to swing.
Jasn shaped water, augmenting it with earth like Wyath had instructed, and slammed the shaping atop the draasin. It was meant to be a calming shaping, and were Jasn less concerned with reaching Wyath than crafting his shaping, he might have eased it atop the draasin like the other man had suggested, but Jasn wanted to save Wyath.
The draasin spun toward him and her tail came around, catching Wyath in the chest. Blood exploded away from him and Wyath grunted.
Jasn unsheathed his sword and reached for another shaping, this one drawing on everything he’d ever learned. The shaping slipped over the draasin, this time without the same sense of resistance as before. The draasin breathed out in a huff and then settled her head to the ground. After what had happened, he should slide his sword into her neck, but Wyath needed him.
Jasn reached the chains and heaved them off Wyath with a shaping of earth. He grabbed the man and dragged him away from the draasin, backing from it as he went, careful to keep his eyes fixed on the creature. It wasn’t until he reached the steps that he looked down to lift Wyath.
His other training kicked in, and he noted the crushed chest and the way blood bubbled from a hole near his shoulder. His wrist was broken as well.
He pulled Wyath from the pen and set him on the street. If he didn’t act quickly, Wyath wouldn’t survive, but it had been a long time since he had healed anyone other than himself.
The shaping came slowly, building rapidly. He healed the ribs first and then drew the flesh around his chest closed. Only then did he fix Wyath’s wrist. The wounds were extensive, but not beyond a skilled healer, and Jasn had been much more than simply a skilled healer before he’d ever learned to kill.
Once the injuries stabilized, Jasn lifted Wyath and ran with him down the street. The older man was limp, arms hanging loosely to the side. With a healing like Jasn had used, Wyath would at best be fatigued for days. If he recovered. Jasn had learned healing from one of the more accomplished healers in Atenas, had become an accomplished healer himself, but that didn’t mean he could heal everything.
Wyath moaned as Jasn brought him down the street. Every step seemed more jarring than usual, and the old man grunted at times. Sweat dripped down Jasn’s brow. He considered taking a moment to use another water shaping, but there wasn’t much need. From what he could tell, Wyath was stable.
The barracks had a simple infirmary. Wyath himself had shown it to Jasn when he first arrived. He hadn’t expected to need it, at least not for himself.
As he neared the infirmary, Wyath moaned again.
“Easy,” Jasn said to him.
“Cheneth,” Wyath mumbled.
“Scholars can’t make sure you survive,” Jasn said.
Wyath blinked his eyes open and fixed Jasn with more strength than he would have expected, given the severity of Wyath’s injury. “Take. Me. To. Cheneth.” Each word seemed a struggle, but he kept his eyes open as he spoke.
“Fine,” Jasn said, heading toward Cheneth’s quarters. As he did, the noise near the edge of the barracks got even louder, and he wondered what about the commotion he had heard that would make Wyath want to go to the scholar rather than a healer.
20
Ciara
Little is truly known about the connection between the elements and the elementals. Even the Wise do not fully understand the connection. The college has long theorized that they are different ends of the same spectrum of power, especially knowing what we do of darkness and light.
—Lren Atunal, Cardinal of the College of Scholars
A rough scratching at her face jolted Ciara awake.
She blinked, surprised that she still lived. The sun was bright and hot overhead, nearly to midday, she figured. The stink of blood filled her nostrils and mixed with the hard earth her face rested on. She tried moving, but her body didn’t respond. Nothing worked as it should, and she knew only pain. And the blasted sand scratched at her face.
No, not sand, she realized. A long, slender lizard ran its tongue across its lips before leaning toward her and bringing that tongue nearer. When it touched her face, fire burned through her, reminding her of the plant barbs she’d pocketed. Did the blasted lizard intend to eat her while she was still alive?
She tried kicking at it, but her legs refused to work. That terrified her, but not so much as having a lizard eat her face while she watched.
A part of her recognized that it was not one of the venomous linaas lizards, but she didn’t recognize this creature beyond the fact that it continued to lick at her face. She blinked and managed to work enough moisture into her mouth to spit. The lizard backed up a step and tipped its head, regarding her with wide yellow eyes. Then it darted toward her arms.
Ciara managed to make a sound, but nothing more than a grunt.
She felt the lizard as it licked along her arm, doing the same as it had done to her face. It would have been better had she been immobilized and numb, but she felt everything. Her arm burned where the creature touched her, as if it peeled away flesh with each lashing of its tongue. Fire ran through her arm, up into her neck, where it met the fire in her face from the lizard’s previous licks. After a while, Ciara felt nothing other than the fire.
Maybe that was a blessing. She smelled blood but thought it was in her nostrils, not from the flesh the lizard had torn from her arms. Maybe it was better that she didn’t know if the lizard was truly ripping pieces off her.
With great effort, she managed to slide her arm and flick it at the lizard. The creature scurried back, watching her with its strange, wide-eyed stare, and then it darted toward her legs.
Fire began again, washing from her feet up to her thighs, where it met the pain she already had. Now her entire body burned, practically consumed by invisible flame.
She fought, but she could only fight for so long.
When she blinked her eyes open again, the sun set toward the top of the rock overhead, putting her in shade. Everything hurt as it had when she first came around, but differently. The fire had eased back, though she still felt it like a simmering flame burning just beneath the surface of her skin. Or maybe it came from the lizard leaving her without skin.
She groaned and tried to roll, this time finding that she could. Now on her stomach, she craned her neck and saw the massive wall of rock stretching high overhead. How far had she fallen? Not far enough to kill her—though that might have been a bless
ing—but far enough that she wouldn’t survive it anyway.
Stormbringer, but her mouth felt dry. She stuck her tongue out and licked at her lips. When it touched her skin, it felt much like when the lizard had been licking, leaving her mouth afire.
Ciara gasped, sucking in a breath of hot, stagnant air that even the shade of the rock couldn’t ease.
A soft scratching sound caused her to roll her head to the side. She couldn’t move quickly had she wanted to, and even the small effort that motion required made her dizzy.
The lizard crouched, watching her. Blasted creature.
“Haven’t you taken enough?” Ciara spat. With her dry tongue, the words came out garbled, but what did that matter to the lizard?
The lizard started toward her, moving with a swaying gait that left its belly shifting, almost like it was some sort of snake on legs. Ciara took a pinch of rock in her battered hands and threw it toward the lizard.
The creature stopped and regarded her for a moment with its yellow eyes and then scampered past her, disappearing into the shadows.
Ciara breathed out a sigh of relief. At least she could move now, but what did that matter if she had nothing to drink? The waterskin was damaged, the water gone. Drinking the remaining water in the skin might have saved her as she baked on the ground, but all it had done was prolong her suffering.
Unless she could reach one of the plants. If it stored water like a dowa, she might be able to get enough to… what? Crawl to the next plant? And then what would she do? Now that she had reached the bottom of the shelf, she was trapped here, and unless there was a way back to the top of the ridge, she was separated from the village, possibly for good.
What had she been thinking? She should have returned to the village with Fas.
She closed her eyes. It might be better if she simply lay on the rock and let the Stormbringer claim her. At least then this would be over and she wouldn’t have to suffer any longer.
A rough scratching at her face came and she snapped her eyes open. A lizard—probably the same one—crouched next to her, licking at her face with his long, rough tongue.
Ciara jerked her head back and pushed away from the creature. The blasted lizard wouldn’t even let her lie there and die like she wanted.
With a great effort, she crawled to her knees. Pain shot through her, but less than she would have expected from the fall. Hadn’t she broken anything? The cracked rock beneath her told of a significant impact, but how was it that she managed to move? Unless the rock in this part of the waste was so fragile that it cushioned her blow and allowed her to escape injury. Given the way she’d fallen, she almost believed it, except the shelf had held her for a while.
She managed to sit and looked up at the wall, trying to determine how far she might have fallen. Nearly fifty feet overhead, a section of the wall had broken free, but Ciara didn’t know if that had been from her climbing or not. Falling from that height would surely have killed her, or left her with something broken at least. Wouldn’t it?
She stretched her arms out and looked for the first time at her skin to see where the lizard had licked her. A thick, pasty crust coated her exposed arms, and as she looked, she found the same on her legs. Had the blasted lizard intended to eat her or bake her?
Ciara started to peel it off, but searing pain shot through her. She jerked her hand away. She’d need to soften it first before she could remove it, but that meant finding water. And if she did find water, she couldn’t risk contaminating it with whatever the lizard had spit on her.
Standing took more energy than she realized she had left.
Ciara groaned, her thick voice matching the deep pain in her back and legs that cried out as she stood. The lizard watched her as she made her way to her feet. She leaned on her thighs, catching her breath, and studied the creature for the first time.
Its scaled sides were a deep gray, but whorls of silvery blue started on each flank and spiraled toward its thick tail. The entire creature was longer than her leg, but it hugged the ground, coming barely to her knee. Ciara had never seen anything like it.
She started north, and the lizard scampered in front of her, blocking her way. Stopping, she glared at the lizard and pointed a finger at it. “If you wanted to eat me, you missed your chance,” she mumbled.
The lizard swished its tail.
Ciara changed direction, angling south. Now that she was down on the flats, did it matter which way she went? She’d sensed water when above and on the shelf, but with as dry as she was, she couldn’t really tell which direction she needed to go.
The lizard scampered around her, moving lightly across the rock, its belly sliding in the way that had reminded her of a snake.
“Blast you!” she said, scratching at the thick crust on her arm. Even touching what the lizard had licked left her arm feeling uncomfortable. She didn’t dare try peeling it away again.
She turned and this time was facing the wall. She took a step and the lizard moved in front of her again.
“What then? You don’t want me going north or south, and I can’t climb the wall! What direction do you want me to go?” she snapped. It was a measure of the heat and her exhaustion that she was talking to a lizard.
But to her surprise, it circled around her and started across the hot flat, pausing to look at her with its wide yellow eyes as if asking her to follow.
Ciara glanced up at the wall and the spot so high overhead that she would have fallen from. She should have died in the landing. The lizard could have eaten her when she had fallen, but instead it had licked this… She looked at her arms, wanting to scratch the thick, pale crust off them, whatever it was. If it had wanted to harm her, it would have by now.
Then what did it want? It couldn’t expect her to follow.
The lizard stopped and turned around, blinking once.
Stormbringer! Did it want her to follow?
Ciara scanned the immediate area. From above, there had been plants scattered all around, but now that she was down on the plain, she saw no sign of any vegetation. Maybe she’d fallen where they didn’t grow.
To survive, she’d have to find a source of water. Tired and dehydrated, she couldn’t sense it. Without any plants to search, she had few options.
Shaking her head at what she was doing, she started after the lizard.
21
Ciara
Elementals are rarely altruistic.
—Lren Atunal, Cardinal of the College of Scholars
Ciara sat in a heap, head hung forward. Sweat poured off her face, and she didn’t attempt to wipe it away. Her body ached, pains that hadn’t been there even a few moments ago surging through her, leaving her legs throbbing and her arms stiff. This was the end, she knew. Without water and without any way to go on, she would die under the hot sun.
Only, it was no longer quite so hot. The sun drifted back toward the horizon, leaving her staring at the flat expanse of rock. Once she’d descended from the shelf, the ground had been almost impossibly flat, as if the Stormbringer had come through with a broom and swept the earth, leaving nothing but cracks across the plain.
It wasn’t that nothing grew. In the time since she’d set out after the strange lizard, she’d seen dozens of plants, all with the same dangerous barbs that Fas had triggered. The lizard brushed against them as it passed, almost as if intentionally triggering the barbs, but that was unlikely. There must be another reason for the lizard to do that, but she hadn’t discovered it yet.
She sat alone. The lizard had continued onward, as if finally oblivious to the fact that she’d fallen and couldn’t go on. Or maybe it had gone to get friends, and they’d eat her together.
Ciara laughed, thinking how she might have made it easier for the lizards to devour her.
When she realized that she was laughing by herself, she only laughed harder. It was lack of water, she knew, but it didn’t make her laugh any less.
How long had she been out in the basin? Ciara no longer was certain of
days, or time, other than the setting of the sun. It felt like she’d been crawling across the flat expanse of rock for ages. Only one time had she found a thick, waxy-leaved plant with any supply of water. Not dowa—this was nothing like the dowa plants she knew—but she’d peeled away the skin and sucked the trickle of moisture she’d managed to reach.
The farther she went on the plain, the more she began to imagine shapes and shadows sliding around her, even in the daylight. Each time she turned her head, only to find nothing there. At first she thought it tricks of the light, or creatures that scurried away too quickly for her to see, but the farther she went, and the more dehydrated she became, she began to suspect it all came from lack of water.
She stared across the plain. What did the village think about her now that she was missing? What would they do? They had receded as far as possible from Rens and had finally been willing to risk crossing the waste, but now even that was closed to them. Where would they go now?
Nowhere. The village would die. Ciara wouldn’t be strong enough to save them. No one was strong enough to save them.
She let out a frustrated sigh.
In the distance, the shadows shifted again. Ciara shivered, hating the solitude of the night.
For a moment, she thought she saw a figure standing distantly, the silver light of the moonlight catching a fluttering cloak, but then it was gone.
Ciara rose to her knees. If there were someone else out here, they could help. There would be water.
She staggered across the rock. Every so often, she saw the shadowy figure, a shadow man who seemed to draw her forward but never risked getting too close. She didn’t even know if the person was real. If he was, she couldn’t blame him for not keeping his distance. She wouldn’t have either, not without knowing what was out there.
Journey of Fire and Night (The Endless War Book 1) Page 17