But he didn’t have to, did he? There was water enough that he could draw on the strength within the element itself. Doing so was different than shaping but was one of the first things he’d ever learned. Jasn drew on the water, on the rain itself, feeling the connection coursing through him. It required no strength in shaping, nothing like the control that was required when he manipulated the elements. This was more of a submission, giving in to the power of water, letting it surge through him, feeling the way it flowed not only from the sky but also through his veins…
The clang of metal striking metal caused him to snap his eyes open.
Sitting up, careful not to put pressure on his injured side, Jasn blinked water away from his eyes. Thenas stood, locked sword to sword with Alena. She whispered something softly, but Jasn still couldn’t hear.
“Calan will learn of this,” Thenas said.
“Tell him what you want,” Alena said coolly.
Thenas swung his sword around, swiping in two quick movements, but Alena blocked each one. He tried again, but again Alena blocked him. Thenas was power and precision where Alena was fluidity and grace. The shapings Thenas used in his attack were nothing compared to the control Alena possessed.
Even Thenas realized that he couldn’t beat her.
He tried again, but with a tight flip of her blade, she caught Thenas under his arm and he dropped Jasn’s sword.
Thenas took a step back, nearly to the edge of the clearing. He glanced from Alena to Jasn and shook his head. “You think you can protect them? These… beasts are the reason Ter suffers! I’ve learned enough to prove to the Council what happens here.”
Thenas disappeared into the darkness.
Alena laid her hands on the dying draasin, ignoring the way he swung his tail and the way his head flipped from side to side. She whispered shushing sounds, and Jasn felt the shaping build from her, one of water and wind, a strange combination. It layered over the draasin, and then she pressed, at first gently but then with more urgency.
“What are you doing?” Jasn asked, picking up his sword as he reached her and sliding it back into his sheath.
“You know what I’m doing. Now, are you going to stand there gaping, or are you going to help?”
“I don’t know how to help. You haven’t shown me—”
“If you’d stop complaining about what I haven’t shown you and start focusing on what I have, you might be useful. And this isn’t anything I can show you.”
“How am I supposed to help?” he asked. His shoulder no longer hurt where Thenas had stabbed him, and he raised his hands as he had seen Alena and Wyath do while working with the draasin.
She pulled her focus away and nodded at his wounded shoulder. “How? You managed to heal yourself and you ask what you should do?”
“I can shape water—”
“That was no shaping,” she said.
She stared at him as if he were an idiot, and in some ways, Jasn thought he might be. “What else would it be?”
She sighed, casting her gaze around the clearing. “You think all this a shaping? You think that everything you’ve seen from me is about learning more shaping skill?”
“Isn’t it?”
She shook her head slightly. “Maybe you’re not what Eldridge had hoped.”
Jasn frowned. “What does he have to do with anything?”
Alena nodded to the draasin. “Here. Place your hands,” she demanded.
Jasn didn’t want to be so close that he actually touched it, but after what he’d seen Alena capable of, he wasn’t about to anger her, either. He took a careful step toward the draasin, keeping his arms raised as he did, and reached toward its scaled side. Alena grunted and grabbed his wrist, forcing him forward so that his face was practically speared by the draasin. He pulled back, trying to fight, but she was strong and used a shaping he didn’t recognize.
“Listen,” she said.
Jasn tried sensing, using fire and wind, the elements that she’d held away from him every time she’d tested him. Nothing came to him but the sense of heat and the feeling of the wind slowly pulling at his hair. He tried earth and water, but neither gave him any sense of the draasin.
“I don’t—” he began, but the steady tapping of the rain pulled on him, calling to him, drawing him toward the draasin. Through it, Jasn found a connection and pulled on the rain, on the water itself, as he listened.
He sensed the way the draasin’s heart beat in his chest, the steady pulsing of blood in his veins, the ragged raw pain the draasin felt where Thenas had shredded his wing.
“You hear it, don’t you?” Alena asked.
“With water sensing.”
She sniffed. “Water sensing. That’s not water sensing, just as what I do is not fire shaping, regardless of what some like Calan seem to think.”
Jasn felt the way the rain coursed over the draasin, each drip striking the scales. Some drops turned to steam, but not so many that the water didn’t guide him to what was wrong, pulling on him with an urgency to fix and change, much as it once did when he first learned water shaping. He let the power flow through him, let it guide him, slowly at first, reluctantly, and then with more abandon. It drew knowledge and guidance from him but provided the necessary strength. He felt it as the wing knitted together, healed by his shaping. He felt the way the muscles and tendons severed by Thenas’s violent attack slowly pulled back into place. Through the connection with water, he sensed it as the draasin’s pain finally eased.
The draasin tossed his head and Jasn took a step back and stumbled. The draasin turned his head and met Jasn’s eyes, fixing him with a hard, yellow-eyed stare. He waited for fire to erupt from its nostrils, for the draasin to burn him as Thenas had been burned, but it didn’t come.
The draasin lowered his head and settled it onto the ground.
“He is thankful for what you did,” Alena said softly.
Jasn scrambled back, getting out of the way of the draasin’s attack zone. “Thankful. How would you know?”
Alena reached a hand toward the draasin, and the large animal turned his head toward her, letting her touch one of the massive spikes atop his head. She smiled and whispered something, and this time, Jasn thought he could almost hear what she said, but then the sound was gone, caught by the wind or buried by the rain and disappearing. The creature let out a soft breath of hot air, steam mixing with the mist spraying from his hot back, and curled his tail up around him. Wings folded in, now healed by Jasn’s shaping, only the stone chains binding him in place, not injury.
She turned to Jasn and sighed. “Because I can speak to the draasin.”
28
Ciara
The priests claim that in the beginning of time, two great powers battled for supremacy. From Light sprang all that we know, the power of the elements, and all life. Darkness would destroy creation, which is why it must remain contained. The college has seen darkness escape once, and we barely survived.
—Lren Atunal, Cardinal of the College of Scholars
Ciara marched across the rock, following the strange man as they made their way ever onward. He never slowed the pace and didn’t bother to speak, as if unconcerned about her. When she risked a glance in his direction, she noted the shadowed man walked with a confidence that made it seem that he knew right where he was taking her.
Was this the same shadowed man she’d seen the first night? Now that the lizard had disappeared, was this the reason it had? Maybe the lizard had brought her to this man.
A part of her wished he would get whatever he intended over with. If he meant to kill her, why wouldn’t he simply do that? The shapers of Ter had killed so many of her people, why did he hesitate with her? And why did he care if she went with him?
She kept her j’na gripped tightly, ready to throw it at him the first moment she found, but doing so required turning, and he would notice that. No, she needed to find the right moment, and then… then she could be free of him.
She saw no f
urther sign of the lizard. What had the man called it? Nobelas? A strange word, one tinged with meaning in her people’s language, but he wouldn’t know that, would he? Maybe he would. He knew about the j’na, and he knew about her.
That the lizard hadn’t returned felt like an abandonment, though she knew it shouldn’t. With it by her side, she hadn’t been alone, not really, but now she felt isolated. Scared.
They stopped at a small pool of water where he allowed her to drink. “How did you find me?” she asked after filling her stomach. It still rumbled. It had been hours since she’d eaten anything, and that had been one of the strange gourds the lizard had brought her.
“Find? You practically called me to you, didn’t you?”
Ciara shook her head, but the man couldn’t see it. “I didn’t call anything. I was trying to find…” She hesitated, not wanting to admit the weakness of her people. Likely Ter would only use it against her.
“What? Water?”
She glared at him and said nothing.
He smiled at her, a flash of teeth that seemed too white in the fading light. “You think you followed water, but I think you were drawn by something else. A deeper desire than simply thirst, don’t you think?”
The arrogance in his voice annoyed her. He was close enough that she could throw her spear, but she needed to draw him closer. Then she would do it. Once free of him, she could return to the village. Plenty of water could be found here, but would she risk them to find it, or should they wait for the Stormbringer to provide what they needed?
“What else would it be?” The sense of water had been what drove her to cross the waste, what had brought her away from the village, hoping to find a way to help her people, hadn’t it?
“Answers will come soon enough.” He hesitated, the flash of smile returning. “If you choose.”
He motioned her onward, and they started into the darkness. His feet tapped rhythmically across the ground as he went, guiding them forward. There was something familiar to it, though she wasn’t sure why. A steady beat came, almost a drumming, so that Ciara felt pulled along, lulled by the sound. She found her feet stepping in time with the beat so that she kept pace with the man. Darkness swallowed him, and the cold air made Ciara shiver. There wasn’t even a moon tonight to light the way, as if the Stormbringer wanted wherever this man brought her to be a surprise.
Because of the darkness, without the man’s tapping, she wouldn’t know for certain where it was safe to walk. She followed the sounds, and the farther she went, the less inclined she was to try to escape.
What was wrong with her? First she’d followed a lizard across the desert, and now she willingly went with this strange man? She was supposed to find water, a way for her people to survive, not… whatever this was.
She passed a shape on the ground and leaned toward it, but the man pulled on her. Not only the man, but darkness itself seemed to pull on her.
Ciara jerked her arm away and swung her j’na.
She’d moved quickly, using the sound of his steps on the rock to guide her. The spear whistled through the air but somehow passed through him, as if he faded into the night before reappearing, her j’na clattering harmlessly against the rock.
“That won’t be necessary.” He stared at her spear, eyeing the shapes carved into the shaft. He moved away from it, a look of disgust on his face.
“Where are you taking me?”
Her voice shook like her hand as she had held her spear. He did nothing to stop her. How had it simply passed through him? She’d known the shapers of Ter to be powerful, but what she’d seen from him was more than what she could have imagined. If her spear wouldn’t harm him, what point was there in fighting?
“I’ve already told you.”
“You said I called, but I didn’t.”
He shrugged.
“At least tell me where you’re taking me.”
He tapped his foot twice, and then motioned her onward again. Ciara started forward reluctantly, but what choice did she have now that her spear couldn’t harm him?
“Not taking. Leading,” he said.
“They’re the same when a shaper forces you.”
“Shaper? Is that what you think me?”
“What else would you be?” she demanded.
He laughed, a dark sound that filled the night. “Did you not choose to come here?”
“I came because my people needed me to come.”
As close as they stood together, she couldn’t sense him nearby. She noted the way her blood pulsed, and Ciara wasn’t surprised to realize that it beat in time with the tapping of his foot. Other sources of water were out in the night, more than she’d ever detected before. Now that it was dark, she’d resorted to reaching out for water again, almost unintentionally. There were small pools scattered all around, enough to keep nya’shin busy for days. The village would never thirst with this much water available.
Beyond the local collections of water was another source, much larger than anything she’d ever detected. She’d thought that the pool near the rocks had been what she sensed, but what if it was not? What if what she’d sensed before crossing the waste was still out here somewhere?
“Was that truly the reason? Not because you wished to claim power? To understand how to control the draasin? To chase water?”
The words thrummed through her, echoing her hidden desire. “My village—”
“Still lives, if you were wondering,” he said.
“How do you know?”
He turned to her and sniffed softly. She imagined that he smiled at her, or maybe sneered at her stupidity. Wind whipped around him and she felt it pulling at her, threatening to lift her into the air.
Of course he would know. If he was a shaper of Ter, likely he had been watching the village. But if that were the case, why hadn’t he attacked? What purpose was there for him to simply watch?
Blasted shapers. What did they want with Rens? They’d already taken so much, leaving the people with nothing. And now they dragged her away, forcing her even farther from the village.
Ciara realized that he’d stopped. The steps now silent, and she turned to find him waiting for her.
“One of the nya’shin found a source of water and led them to it,” he said. “Your village is safe, Ciara S’shala.”
She shivered. Had she given him her full name?
And then there was what he’d said about Fas. If what he said was true—and she didn’t know whether she should believe him or not—at least he’d made it back. She should be thankful that the village wouldn’t suffer because she’d failed to return, but there was a part of her that wished she had been the one to find water.
As usual, she’d failed at it. Were she able to control water, not only seek it, she might have been more useful to her people. She might have been a true nya’shin. Instead… here she was, forced across the empty Rens waste, and for what?
“The Stormbringer provided,” Ciara whispered to herself. That was the only explanation.
The man grunted. “Stormbringer. Your people have strange beliefs, thinking that you should only prosper after the rain. Would you pray to the same Stormbringer if you lived in a place where rain fell daily? What about where water splashes against the shore in great frothy sprays?”
“You can’t understand. You are not of Rens.” The Stormbringer had always been a harsh god to her people, but the only one who had ever provided. There were other gods, such as Nightfall and Alasand, but they had never served the people of Rens. Ciara feared the darkness of Nightfall, and Alasand ruled over the bright, deadly sun. Only the Stormbringer had given them hope and a chance for survival.
The man laughed and tapped the staff on the ground. “Too true. Perhaps you will believe in a different god when you reach our destination.”
“I believe in only the Stormbringer’s mercy.”
The man laughed again and waved his staff to push her onward and deeper into the darkness.
They walked fo
r hours, rarely talking, only the steady tap, tap, tap of his feet for company. She no longer felt as if she had a choice, rather that she had to go with this man. Most of the time, the darkness made him invisible to her, leaving him nothing but the tapping sound. Ciara was aware of the way her heart beat in time with the rhythm of the steps, almost as if it didn’t want to compete.
Another hour passed. And then another. She passed shapes on the ground, but each time she tried to look, shadows pulled her on. Slowly, light began to resolve in the distance. At first it was faint, and she wondered if most of the night had already passed. It was possible they had simply walked all the way through, but she didn’t think so. By her estimate, there were still a few hours remaining before dawn came in full. What were the lights, then?
They stopped at a watering hole. This one would have been large enough for the village to use for days. Now, she had it all to herself, and she drank all that she wanted. There was a certain panic that she felt when the man pulled her away. Without a waterskin, she still hated the idea of leaving without some way of bringing enough with her. That had been the reason she’d nearly died. Had the lizard not brought the gourds to her, she would have.
Where had the blasted animal gone? She’d barely thought of him since meeting this man, but she found that she missed his company and wished that he was still with her. At least she felt she had a choice then, even if the lizard had hissed at her to force her where it wanted her to go. With the shaper, did Ciara really have a choice? Could she?
Another hour passed as they continued on. The distant lights grew increasingly bright, a soft greenish hue curved atop the horizon. A city? No, the lights were too consistent and too bright to come from any city. Ciara had no experience with cities, but candles and lanterns didn’t burn with that sort of sickly green light.
“What is that?” she asked.
Journey of Fire and Night (The Endless War Book 1) Page 24