Broken of Fire (The Cloud Warrior Saga Book 9) (4 page)

But none of that mattered, at least not yet.

He wouldn’t burden Roine and his mother with those concerns, not when they should be focused on a happier time, so he chose a different answer.

Opening his cloak, he pulled the draasin out from underneath.

The hatchling clung to him, with none of the same eagerness that she had shown in going to Cianna. Was it the bond to the draasin that made her trust Cianna more? Likely the connection to spirit was the reason that she was fine with Amia as well. But she crawled up his arm and settled around his neck, digging her sharp claws into his neck.

His mother sucked in a breath. “There is another creature of fire.”

Tan nodded.

Roine rose and reached toward the hatchling but jerked his hand back when she attempted to nip at him.

Easy,
he admonished.

“Another draasin?” Roine asked.

“This is the reason why I remain in Par,” Tan said.

“For one of the draasin? But you have the others here,” his mother said. Her tone had changed, the sharp irritation fading. Tan wondered again what she and Roine had been arguing about before he entered.

“She is not the only one I found. There are others. Many others.”

Roine glanced to Zephra. She shook her head. “No, Theondar.”

“No?” Tan asked.

Roine met his eyes. For a fleeting moment, there was something of concern, an expression that Tan hadn’t seen from him for many months, but then it passed and Roine forced a smile. The suddenness of the change was almost enough for Tan to want to use spirit sensing to know what he missed, but he let it drop. Today was not a day for arguments with his mother and Roine. Today was a day that he should celebrate.

His mother stood and took his hand. “Thank you for being here for us, Tannen.”

“Where else would I be?” he asked.

Zephra glanced briefly at Roine, making Tan wonder what they hid from him, before turning her attention back to him and squeezing his hand. “Thank you,” was all she said.

T
an sat
with Amia in the small home that they had acquired during their time in Ethea. Even though they hadn’t lived in it for long, there were memories in the home. The strongest memory was of the First Mother, and the lessons that she’d offered Amia, but then he also recalled her death, and his planning of the attack on the Utu Tonah, and nearly losing Amia.

He stood at the open window, listening to the sound of the bells ringing through the city. “Maybe we should move from here,” he said softly.

Amia touched his arm. “Where would you have us stay in Ethea? The palace?”

Tan sighed. “Not here.”

“We can’t change what has happened in the past.”

“I’m not sure that I would even want to if we could,” he said. “Only that this place holds too many hard memories.”

“The hard memories are the ones we need to hold closest to us,” she said. “They are the ones we can learn the most from.”

He turned away from the window. “I don’t have a problem with my mother and Roine.”

“I never said that you did.”

“It’s just…” He ran his hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. “It’s just that had none of this happened, I would never have lost him.”

Most of the time, he barely thought about his father anymore. Not that he didn’t miss him—Tan felt his absence as much as he felt Asboel’s—but time and experience had allowed him to find a measure of healing. But today, with his mother planning the next stage of her life without his father, he felt the pain more acutely once more.

And yet, he
wanted
her to be happy. With everything that they had all gone through, what they had survived, she deserved to be happy. There were times when he wondered what would have become of him had his father lived, and had they remained in Galen and his village of Nor.

Had they remained there, he would have been nothing more than a skilled woodsman. Perhaps he would eventually discover his ability to shape, though he was a bit old even when he did learn. Would he have learned of his connection to the elementals? Would he ever have discovered the draasin and formed the bond that would ultimately lead to him rescuing the remaining fire elementals?

“You linger too long in the past,” she said.

“How do you do it? You’ve suffered more than me. You’ve lost your entire family, nearly your entire people…”

She pulled him toward her and kissed him gently. “I think about the past and what happened, but I need to stay in the present if we’re to have a future.” Amia stepped away from him and touched her stomach, cradling herself protectively. “You didn’t tell her. I thought… I thought that you would share with her the news.”

“I don’t think it was the right time. And besides, I think that my mother is keeping something from me.”

She laughed and tipped her head a moment before heading to the door. She paused with her hand on the knob. “She is Zephra. She always keeps something from you.”

With that, she pulled open the door.

His mother stood on the other side, hand raised to knock. Her graying hair hung loose around her shoulders, and flowers were woven into it. She smiled, and the wrinkles around her eyes deepened.

“Tannen,” she said, looking him over and eyeing his formal attire. It felt strange dressing with such pomp, but as Athan—and son of the future queen—it was expected of him. “Are you ready?”

He glanced over at Amia before nodding. Hopefully his mother didn’t see his hesitation.

They left the small home and, using a shaping of wind mixed with fire, he carried both his mother and Amia with him, reaching the palace garden. Within the garden were the kingdoms’ dozens of shapers. Most he recognized, though there were a few that he did not. Gathered behind Ferran were nearly thirty children of various ages. They were the children of Althem, his legacy, if they could be called that, and a better legacy than he deserved. Most were sensers, and might never learn anything more, but there were some with shaping potential. Ferran even thought that two could become warrior shapers.

In addition to the dignitaries of the kingdoms, the Supreme Leader of Chenir stood off to the side, flanked by seven of his shapers. When they saw Tan, they all nodded to him. Tan hadn’t seen them since they defeated the Utu Tonah, but he knew that the lands of Chenir had returned, the damage inflicted by the shaping that withdrew the elementals no longer harming the land.

Elle and Vel from Doma stood near those from Chenir. His cousin held hands with the boy Tan had seen when he went and freed Falsheim. A few others wore the bold Doman blue, and Tan was pleased to see them, too.

There was no presence from Incendin.

He remained in the air, hovering just above the ground. “Mother—”

“Before you say anything about Incendin, know that we considered it. Theondar thought the wounds of Ethea were too fresh to invite anyone into the city.”

“We fought alongside them,” Tan said. “We would not have been able to defeat Par-shon were it not for Incendin.”

“Tannen,” she said, “can you not do this today? Let this be my day.”

As Amia squeezed his hand, he took a deep breath and lowered them to the ground. “I… I’m sorry. You’re right. This is your day.”

She hugged him and then turned to Amia, pulling her into a hug as well. As she did, she hesitated and then stepped back. “When were you going to tell me?” she whispered to Amia.

Amia looked at him, and he felt a flush come to his cheeks.

“Well,” Zephra said, “it seems we have more to talk about than I realized.” She squeezed Amia’s arm, and then Tan’s, before a smile spread across her face. “And more to celebrate.”

With that, she swept away from him on a shaping of wind, landing next to Roine.

Amia’s mouth puckered in sharp concentration as she stared after his mother. “There is something she conceals from us.”

“As you said, there’s always something that she keeps from us.”

Amia frowned. “This… this is different. I can almost detect what she hides.” A shaping built from her, and Tan shook his head.

“Don’t. She’ll grow angry if she knows that we shaped her, especially today. Besides, I think she knows how to shield herself from spirit.”

Amia sighed. “Since I discovered it, my ability has changed. It’s… more potent in some ways, but less controlled, if that makes any sense. I’m not sure how to explain it any differently. But I’ve found that certain things I would not have managed before I do without difficulty. I think that’s how I survived what happened on the tower.”

“Have you noticed that our connection is different?” He had been meaning to ask about that but something seemed to come up whenever he thought about saying anything.

“Our connection
is
different,” she said. “But I don’t know how much it’s due to the pregnancy.”

“What else would have changed?”

She patted his hand. “You, Tan.
You
have changed. And I think that is why the bond has shifted.” She smiled. “Don’t worry. We still share a connection. I think we always will share that, regardless of what happens.”

“You make it sound like something
will
happen to us.”

She smiled, but it was forced. “The only one who knows what will happen is the Great Mother.”

As the music started, signaling the beginning of the celebration, Tan couldn’t help but think that not only his mother, but also Amia held something back from him.

* * *

“
C
ongratulations
,” he said to Roine. Now that the ceremony was over, Tan thought he might have a chance to talk to both Roine and his mother, but they were both preoccupied with everyone around them, all clamoring to reach them to congratulate them. When Tan managed to reach Roine, he couldn’t think of anything else to say other than congratulations.

“Tan,” Roine said with a smile, guiding him to a quiet corner in the massive banquet hall, a place Tan had never been in all the time that he’d been in the palace, “there’s something that I’ve wanted to ask you since… well, since you knew about Zephra and I.” When Tan didn’t say anything and waited, Roine took a breath and nodded, as if steeling himself for what he might say next. “You and I have always shared a unique connection. Ever since I came to Nor searching for the artifact, I’ve felt as if I had been destined to mentor you, much like you were destined to help save me.”

“Roine—”

Roine raised his hand. “No. You
did
help me. Without you, and without what you have done for me, and the kingdoms, I don’t know where I would be. Perhaps no place different than I am now, but I think that without you, I would never have learned what Althem… what Althem intended. How he
used
me. I would have returned to the Great Mother thinking that Lacertin was a traitor. And I would never have known the extent of our connection to the elementals. You have taught me that, and you saved me.”

Roine slipped an arm around Tan’s shoulders. “But what worries me is the friendship that we have. I don’t want my marriage to your mother to change that. I value your friendship more than I have valued any in my life.”

Tan swallowed. “I feel the same way, Roine. You don’t have to fear that changing.”

Relief washed over Roine’s face as he took a deep breath. “Good.”

“Is that what you’ve been hiding from me?” Tan asked.

“I’ve not been hiding… Were you using spirit—”

“Roine, I know you well enough that I don’t need to use spirit to know when you’re hiding something from me.”

The old warrior nodded. “You do at that, I suppose.”

“Then what was it? What are you keeping from me?”

Roine glanced over his shoulder and seemed to look around the hall, before turning his attention back to Tan. “When you came back from Par-shon—”

“It’s just Par now. Par-shon was the creation of the Utu Tonah.”

Roine frowned. “Well, when you returned from Par, you started asking questions and searching for answers in the archives.”

“And?”

“I’ve learned to trust your instinct, Tan. If nothing else, you’ve shown me that my first reaction might not be the right one. So when you returned, I realized that I had to better understand what we possessed in the archives. All of the archives.”

Tan understood the implication. Roine meant the lower archives, the place the archivists had once kept secret and only for them. “You studied the archives?” When Roine didn’t answer, realization dawned on him. “
You
didn’t study in the archives.”

Roine shook his head.

“But you sent someone else.” Why would Roine keep that from him? The lower archives weren’t
his
, as much as he might feel that way. After the archivists had been expelled from the city, there hadn’t been anyone else able to access them, at least the area where spirit shaping was involved.

“I sent someone else,” Roine agreed.

“Who? Why would it matter that you sent someone else?”

Roine sighed. “I thought Amia would have told you.”

Tan looked over his shoulder at Amia. She stood off to the side of the hall and spoke to Elle. One hand went to her stomach every so often, and Elle met his eyes across the distance, a smile on her face. She knew. Of course a water shaper would know, especially one as skilled as Elle.

“What would Amia have told me?”

“To access the archives, we need someone able to shape spirit.”

Tan jerked his head around. “You can’t be serious, Roine. You asked her for the Aeta help?”

He shook his head. “Not exactly.”

“How not exactly? How else would you access the archives if not for the…” His eyes widened. “Wait, you don’t mean to tell me that you welcomed the archivists back!”

Roine nodded slowly. “It was a difficult decision, but we needed someone with knowledge of
Ishthin
. Other than the archivists—and you—who knows
Ishthin
well enough for what we need?”

“Don’t you remember what they did?”

“I remember as well as any, Tan. I was here for it, much like you. And I experienced it firsthand.”

“Well?” he asked.

“Well what?”

“Since you allowed them back into the archives, did they find anything?”

“You should know that I set very specific requirements on their return. The archives will not be closed as they were. And the lower level can be accessed by anyone with the ability to use spirit.”

Tan doubted that the archivists would be able to exclude him from the archives were they to want to, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t attempt to hide something, especially if they had the ability to shape spirit. They would never
really
know. Spirit would protect them.

“They must have found something, or you wouldn’t make a point of telling me what you’ve done,” Tan said.

“They found something. And then when you came here, with that draasin, I knew that it might be more important than I had even thought.”

“What is it?”

“When you mentioned the draasin, and how you found eggs.” Tan nodded. “Within one of the volumes in the archives, we found something similar, a reference to dormant elementals.”

“Dormant? The elementals don’t simply remain dormant.”