Cloud Warrior 05 - Forged in Fire (17 page)

“Daughter,” the Mother from their wagon said.

Amia tipped her head. “I no longer have right to that title. I renounced my claim to the People.”

The Mother smiled at her. “You may have renounced it, but the People have not renounced you. It became clear to me as we traveled that the First Mother
had
prepared for her passing.” She tottered forward another step, leaning fully on her cane. Tan sensed the effort she exerted to remain upright. “I do not know what transpired to convince you to renounce the People, and the Great Mother knows I may not need to know. If it is because of Tan, then the choice was a folly. He has proved himself many times to serve the People.” She caught Amia’s eyes, holding them with a commanding strength. “Will you follow his example? Will you serve the People?”

Amia remained silent. He sensed the conflicted emotions running through her, but underneath was a sense of purpose that had been missing from her for so long.

Do what you must
, he sent through the connection.

Amia tensed as she took a deep breath, facing the Mothers. Then a serene sense of peace worked over her and passed through the bond to Tan.

“For now, I will serve,” she said.

W
hen Tan returned
to the house that night, the small room felt empty and cold without Amia. Now that she’d agreed to serve as First Mother, Amia remained behind with the Aeta, and had needed to meet with the other Mothers to decide the fate of the People, and the archivists. Since returning, Tan hadn’t bothered to start a fire in the hearth, even though it would not take much of a shaping. The chill flowing through him was not something fire would remove.

He had pulled the window open, letting the combination of ashi and ara swirl through the room, carrying the sounds of the street below him. Voices carried from dozens of people still out at night. Music drifted distantly from a tavern somewhere, the first time he’d heard a sense of merriment coming from within the city since the attack months ago.

He stood at the window, focusing on his connections. Asboel circled the distant countryside—probably Vatten, from what Tan could see through his shared sight—hunting with Sashari. Honl remained near Tan though was mostly silent, content to remain near his bond.

Then there was Amia. That was the bond he most feared losing. He sensed her distantly, where she remained with the Gathering. For the first time in months, she exuded a sense of purpose. She was content.

How would serving as First Mother change things between them? Not their bond; that would not change. But the physical sense of her was missing. He had become accustomed to having her with him and now she would not be. He could travel to her, but he couldn’t stay with her, not if he intended to serve as Athan. Responsibilities pulled them in different directions, drawn by the demands of their people. Would they ever be able to simply remain content, together?

Now that they’d returned to Ethea, Tan couldn’t shake the thought that he needed to do more. Incendin couldn’t face Par-shon alone, and Doma couldn’t be left to suffer. As a shaper bound to the elementals, Tan could help. Wasn’t that the reason he’d been given the ability to speak to the elementals?

A knock at the door pulled his attention away from his thoughts. They were troubled thoughts anyway, and he was thankful for the distraction.

On the other side of the door, he found Zephra. She wore a heavy brown cloak and her graying hair was pulled into a braid. “Mother,” he said.

“You’ve been gone. I expected you to return to the city after I showed you the draasin attack. Theondar expected you—”

“Theondar expects me to do what is needed,” Tan said, gently reminding her that he was Athan. “It was not the draasin. They had not attacked the Aeta. This was something worse. The archivists, making it appear that it was the draasin or Incendin, for some reason I have yet to learn.” He wished he understood what would make them return to the Aeta. Could they have learned of Par-shon? Did they return for safety?

“You’re certain?”

“We found four more caravans. We were able to save three.”

Her eyes narrowed and she tapped a finger on pursed lips. “That is where you’ve been. You’ve been saving the Aeta when Incendin continues to move and attack? You are Athan now, Tannen, you have greater responsibilities than—”

“I do not need you to tell me what my responsibilities are, Mother.
I
am the Athan.”

She hesitated before saying anything. “What of the Aeta, then?”

“They are Gathering. The First Mother is gone and they have selected another.”

Zephra frowned, glancing around the room and noting that Amia was missing. “I thought that she abandoned them.”

“Only because she thought they abandoned her. I don’t think Amia ever really could leave the People. They are a part of who she is.”

“She was selected?” Zephra asked.

Tan’s voice caught as he answered. “She was. She agreed to serve.”

Without saying anything, his mother wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. For a moment, Tan was a child again, living in the mountains of Nor. For a moment, he was reminded of the closeness he’d once shared with his mother. Then she released the hug and pushed away from him.

Tan forced confidence into his voice that he still didn’t completely feel. “She needed to do this. The Aeta needed her to serve.” He took a breath and pushed away. Much like Amia needed to serve, Tan was beginning to realize that he needed to do more than he had. Seeing Par-shon attacking had made that clear. If they left Doma helpless, what would happen by the time Par-shon reached the kingdoms? “What of you? What did you learn in Incendin?”

“Their shapers are amassing. I’ve seen movement but have been unwilling to venture too close. I don’t know what it means.”

“It means Par-shon attacks Incendin directly,” Tan said. Would Roine understand if he shared how he’d helped Incendin? Would any of the kingdoms’ shapers understand?

Tan still wasn’t certain how he felt about helping Incendin. It was one thing to use them, but another to actively help. Incendin had destroyed his home, had taken his father, and everyone he’d ever known at the time, away from him. But had he not helped, Par-shon would have destroyed the city.

“Good,” she said. “Let Incendin and Par-shon destroy each other. They will weaken each other, and the kingdoms will be safer for it.”

Tan was not surprised that Zephra shared the same thought as Roine. They had lived through Incendin wars. “The kingdoms are not safer with Par-shon on our shores.”

“But they aren’t on our shores, Tannen. They have come to Doma, and now to Incendin. I know you fear Par-shon, and I fear, too, what would happen were they to reach the kingdoms, but this is for the best. Theondar has us working to rebuild the barrier. In another month, we will have it reformed, strengthened again, and we will no longer have to fear Incendin crossing our borders.”

“The barrier never really kept their shapers out,” Tan said. “Even the lisincend managed to cross. It will not keep Par-shon from us, either.”

“They only crossed at great cost to themselves. We have learned since then. When complete, the barrier will seal out Par-shon and Incendin alike.”

“Which means we seal ourselves inside?” Tan asked. That felt like cowardice, and worse: it abandoned the elementals beyond the barrier.

His mother’s eyes narrowed. “I thought this would please you. You’ve seen what Incendin and Par-shon can do more closely than most. This will bring our people peace.”

Whatever it did, building the barrier only delayed what was coming. He’d seen how Par-shon had attacked the village of Lashasn. What was next? Would Chenir suffer the same fate? How many would fall? How many elementals would be trapped and forced to bond in that time?

Too many would suffer if he did nothing.

“Has there been any additional word from Elle?” she asked.

“None. Doma is silent.”

Either she had died, or Par-shon had separated her from her bond, assuming that she had managed to form a bond to the udilm. Either way meant that she was lost. Yet there was something he could do, something that he began to suspect he
had
to do, especially now that he’d seen the way Par-shon attacked. If he waited much longer, the kingdoms would be in real danger.

When he hesitated too long, Zephra studied him. “What do you intend, Athan?”

He couldn’t tell if she used the title as a slight or if there was pride in her voice. Regardless, he didn’t know what he would do. There was what he wanted, different even than what others wanted of him, and then there was what was needed.

None answered his mother’s question.

“I will do what is best for the kingdoms,” he said.

His mother let out a deep, gratified sigh. “I know you will. At least the Aeta have gathered within the kingdoms. You do not have to fear losing Amia.”

Then she departed, leaving him staring after her, wishing that she could understand that though he might not have Amia with him, he would never really lose her.

T
he lower level
of the archives was cool, no evidence of ashi blowing through, nothing but the damp walls suffused with the nymid and golud. Tan trailed his fingers along the stone as he made his way through the tunnels. Asboel was here and he needed to speak to him about his plan.

He paused at the pool where he’d bonded the nymid. Green water swirled within, moving slowly. Tan touched it and found it cooler than before.
Nymid
, he sent.
Is there word from the Child of Water?

The nymid swirled with increased agitation, before settling. A streamer of green crawled up Tan’s arm, settling around his neck.
He Who is Tan. You asked for word on the Child. Water still searches.

Does she live?

That was what he feared more than anything. Elle could be dead, and then what? Because he’d acted too slow? It was the same as what had happened to the Aeta. He had acted too slowly to be of any real help.

He couldn’t do that with Par-shon, not and risk the entirety of the kingdoms. But acting as he suspected he needed meant more than risking his life facing Par-shon, it meant going against what Theondar wanted. If he did, the kingdoms’ shapers would not come to help. He would be isolated, but hopefully not alone.

You will try to help the Child?
the nymid asked.

I think I have to,
Tan said, coming to a decision.
I’ve been given the ability to help the elementals, to keep them safe. If I do nothing, I have already failed.

The nymid swirled up and around his neck, leaving him with a vague sensation, not at all unpleasant.
The Mother chose well.

Tan started toward the draasin den. He let his hand trail along the wall as he did, wishing he could somehow figure out the secret to reaching golud more easily. The elemental was there, he
felt
it, and he’d heard the distant sound of golud deep in his mind, but it was not consistent. He sighed; maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe all that mattered was that golud listened.

Asboel waited for him inside the draasin den, his yellow eyes glowing with a keen intensity. The hatchlings weren’t in this part of the cavern.
Maelen. You have made a choice, but you are uncertain.

It’s what I must ask of you that makes me uncertain.

Asboel made that strange chuckling sound that he did.
Do not fear for the draasin, Maelen. There is a reason we have survived the longest.

Because you were frozen?

Asboel snorted fire at him.
You have grown confident. You will need confidence with what you intend.

This must stop,
he started, thinking of the way Par-shon attempted to trap the elementals in Incendin,
and it will start by clearing Doma.
Only, I’m not certain whether it’s confidence or foolishness.

Fools are confident without reason. You are no fool, Maelen.

Tan wished he knew whether that was true. He turned in place, studying the rocks piled behind Asboel.
Where are the hatchlings?

They learn the hunt.

I’m sorry I keep you from it,
Tan said.

It was Sashari’s turn for the lesson. You have a different hunt in mind.

I do, but what I must ask puts you in danger. If Par-shon manages to capture you, there might be little I can do.

You will know. You would come, Maelen. That is enough.
Asboel stretched his neck forward to peer more closely at Tan.

You will hunt with me?
Tan asked.

Asboel sniffed a streamer of fire at Tan. The fire melted away from him.
I have already said that you will never hunt alone.

Then we will go soon, but there are a few others I must ask.

Sashari will come.

And if you’re injured?
Tan feared what would happen to the hatchlings were he to fail. They had nearly been lost once; he didn’t want to be the reason they were lost again.

The hatchlings will be safe if we fail in the hunt. They grow strong. Soon, they will be strong enough to take on a name. Do not fear for them, Maelen.
Asboel crawled forward in the den and pressed his face close to Tan.
This is what the Mother means for you to do. This is why the Mother aided our bond.

I intend to return,
Tan said.

Asboel sniffed and made a soft grunting sound.
All intend to return from the hunt. Not all can.

The bonded cannot be allowed to force any more of the elementals. The others don’t see it, but if they reach these lands, in this place of convergence, there will be nothing to stop them.

That is why we will stop them,
Asboel agreed.
That is a reason to hunt.

A
s Tan entered
the room where Cora was held, he found her with her hands folded in her lap flipping absently through a book lying open in front of her. Light from a shapers lantern lit her page, and a cracking fire raged in the hearth. The air smelled of cut flowers and the mint tea steaming from the cup set onto the table next to her.

“You have been gone many days. There are some who worry about you,” she said.

“I’m sorry. I should have warned you that I’d be gone.”

“You owe me nothing,” she said, but he heard the sense of frustration in her voice at his silence. She’d agreed to the barrier formed by Amia’s shaping, but leaving her like that indefinitely—especially alone after what she’d gone through—seemed a cruel torment.

“I owe you an explanation. And an opportunity.”

Cora waited for him.

“Par-shon has moved beyond Doma. They have begun attacking in Incendin.”

Cora gripped her skirt, squeezing it in her fist. “You have heard this?”

“I have seen. Three bonded shapers attacked a city on the northeastern edge. There was a single shaper there, not enough to stop them.”

Her eyes fell closed. “What city was lost?”

“None. At least not when I last saw.” Cora studied him, searching for answers. “I did what I could. There were three Par-shon shapers there.”

“You?”

“You think I would not?”

“You have described how the Sunlands have hurt your people. I did not think that—”

“And I have seen what happens when Par-shon is left to attack unchecked. I can’t say that I agree with how Incendin has striven for power, or how they’ve used that power once they achieved it,” he took a deep breath before going on, “but I don’t blame their people for wanting anything more than peace.”

It was the only thing he wanted, and now he might not have a chance at it until Par-shon was stopped. Even then, what would peace be like? Would he be able to settle with Amia, to have the home that both of them wanted? Or would there always be a new threat, new archivists or Incendin or Par-shon, always wanting to tear them apart?

Cora placed her hands flat on her lap. “What would you have me do? You claimed there was an opportunity.”

“I would ask for your help,” Tan said. “You’re a shaper, trained by Lacertin. I don’t expect much help from the kingdoms, but Incendin needs help. Doma must be freed. We must stop Par-shon.”

“You would free me and release me to the Sunlands?”

“Par-shon bonded aren’t the only ones who take shapers and try to use them against their will. There are others, nearly as bad, and they call themselves archivists. You would have been gone when they attacked, or maybe you were a part of their plan.” Tan didn’t want to know if that was true. It would make him asking Cora for her help even more difficult. “But they are spirit shapers controlled by our king. They thought to use our shapers in plans of their own. They have returned, and now they attempt to use Incendin shapers. Amia has freed those we’ve found, and we left them in Incendin.”

“You healed them?” Tan nodded. Cora leaned toward him. “That is not the response I would expect from the kingdoms. Perhaps one of these days, I will understand.”

It wasn’t the reaction he expected, though Tan didn’t know what he expected from her. “You haven’t answered me yet. Will you help?”

“A chance to return to the Sunlands. To help my people and avenge what Par-shon has done?” She stood and crossed her arms over her chest. “Of course I will help.”

Tan allowed himself a moment of relief. He had expected that Cora would help, but hadn’t been entirely certain. He needed her for any hope for his plan to work. If she was the shaper Cianna claimed, then she could go to Incendin and convince them to stop attacking the kingdoms. Maybe then they could begin to work together.

“When do we do this?” Cora asked.

“How about now? Are you ready to return home?”

“Ready? I was prisoner in Par-shon and now the kingdoms. Each time I’ve been held by shapers with more power than anyone I’ve ever faced.” She fixed him with a curious glance. “What would you ask of me?”

“Ask?”

“Demands. What is the price of my freedom?”

“Only that you do what you can to oppose Par-shon.”

“And you? What is it that you intend?”

“I will go to Doma. I intend to push Par-shon from Falsheim and find my cousin if she lives. It needs to stop now, before they move further inland. I think the first attack was only to determine the defenses within the border cities. When this comes, your shapers must be ready. If I fail, you will be needed. The Sunlands must be ready.”

Cora actually smiled. “You don’t even know how many Par-shon are in Doma,” she said.

“No.”

“And you think you can do this thing on your own?”

Thinking that he had to be the only one to help had been his mistake in the past. When he went to Doma, he did so on behalf of the elementals and the people of this land. Tan did not expect to be alone. Asboel would be with him. Sashari with Cianna. Honl. And there would be other elementals, not bonded, who Par-shon had not yet been able to force into their service. The Great Mother had given him the ability to speak to the elementals for a reason. This was part of that reason.

“What makes you think I’ll be alone?” he asked. He went to the door and waved her forward. “Come, Cora, it’s time you return to your homeland.”

C
ora trailed behind
, her eyes scanning all around as if half-expecting her sudden freedom to be a trap. When they stopped in the middle of the university courtyard, Tan saw hope filling her eyes. Tan remembered the first time he’d seen her, when
nothing
had been there. It was good that she had been healed, just as it was good that Amia had healed the Incendin shapers twisted by the archivists.

Without waiting, Tan reached toward the shaping surrounding her mind and quickly unraveled it. Cora gasped. Wind and fire shaped softly from her, and the earth rumbled faintly.

“If this fails and Par-shon attacks from more than only Doma,” Tan started, not certain how to continue. That was a real possibility, but he counted on the strength of the Fire Fortress to still serve as some sort of deterrent. It had to be the reason Doma had been targeted. It was the reason he feared for a place like Chenir, mostly hidden from the kingdoms. Either would be ideal launching points for an attack without worrying about the Fire Fortress and the strength found there.

Cora raised a hand. “You have done more than any would ever have expected, Tan.”

With that, she pulled a traveling shaping and disappeared in a flash of light.

As Tan stared after her, he sensed Ferran approach. “Will you report me to Roine?” he asked the earth shaper.

Ferran removed the shaping that partially obscured him. “You released her to return to Incendin?” He sat on one of the remaining piles of rock, his lean face hidden in shadows. He wore loose breeches and a plain shirt. His face was unshaven, making him appear older than when Tan had first met him.

“Cora is not our enemy,” Tan said.

Ferran stood, and stepped out of the shadows. “Perhaps she is not, but Incendin remains our enemy. One shaper does not change that.”

“It’s more than one shaper,” Tan said, mostly to himself. He hoped that were true. Would releasing the spirit shaped Incendin make a difference? “It’s late for you to be here,” Tan said.

Ferran nodded toward the university building. “The stone calls to me.”

“You’re an earth shaper,” Tan answered. “Of course it would call to you.”

Ferran met his eyes. “That is not it. This is different.”

Tan went to the pile of fallen rock, noting the progress that had been made with the university in such a short time, and understood. “You hear them, don’t you?” he asked.

“I have lived my life knowing the earth elementals exist, but never expected to hear them. No one hears them, not for many years. And then I met you. You are able to speak to golud. The first since the ancient scholars. And now?” His voice grew more incredulous. “How is it this is possible? How is it that I now hear them?”

It was more than Tan had managed with golud, but it seemed fitting that it should be Ferran who would reach golud. He was a Master earth shaper, as skilled as any Tan had ever seen, and able to use earth in ways that Tan could not, not yet, and not without asking it of the elementals.

“Has one named itself?” Tan asked. He didn’t want to know the name, only whether a bond had formed.

“I… I am too frightened to answer. The voices are there, like the steady rolling of thunder after a storm. I feel them within me.”

“Ferran,” Tan said, “you must answer them.”

“Why is this, Tan? Why should I suddenly gain this?”

Tan didn’t know. Maybe it was the same reason Sashari chose the bond. Maybe something was changing, the elementals choosing sides, knowing that it would be needed as the fight with Par-shon became inevitable. Or maybe it was none of that. Why wouldn’t Ferran be worthy?

“There are many reasons you would have been chosen,” Tan answered. “Any one of them a valid reason for golud to wish to speak to you. The thing is,” he went on, trying to make Ferran understood how important what he said next would be, “is that the elementals need the connection to shapers, whether they know it or not. When the draasin and I first bonded, he didn’t think there was anything for him to gain from the bond. Maybe that was true at first, but it isn’t now. With what is coming, all of us are in danger, including the elementals. So please listen to golud. Answer if you can. The kingdoms will need your connection to the golud, and the elemental will benefit as well.”

Ferran focused on the ground. “I trust that you’ve made the decision necessary, Athan. May the Great Mother watch over you.”

Ferran returned to the stone pile and took a seat in the shadows. Tan hoped he opened himself to golud.

For the first time in a long time, when thinking about what they might face, he felt hope. If the kingdoms’ shapers could regain a connection to the elementals, then they might be able to withstand an attack even if Tan failed. They might be able to protect the elementals in his absence. And there was a real possibility that the shaping he intended, where he needed to go, would fail.

You understand what I must do,
he sent to Amia.

Her answer came slowly, as if reluctantly.
I understand. I could come with you.

You have a different task now.

I do, but I will have you return to me,
she said.

The elementals will see that I return.

Before departing, there was one more place he needed to go, one more friend he needed to warn. This might be the hardest of all.

Honl,
Tan said,
we must go to the palace.

As Tan shaped himself toward the palace, he pressed a shaping through the summoning rune, calling to Roine. When he arrived, a lone figure stood in the courtyard.

“Theondar,” he said, using Roine’s given name. Now that he served as king regent, in some ways, Theondar was more fitting. In Tan’s mind, he would always be Roine, a man hiding that he was a warrior shaper, that he had abilities that very few elsewhere in the world possessed.

“When you summoned, I thought it might be a mistake. Tannen has been missing for days, without word of where he traveled.” Roine was dressed in a simple ornate robe, each day looking more like a king and less like the warrior he had been.

“The archivists attacked again,” Tan said.

“Where?”

“Incendin,” Tan said, starting to explain, but Roine waved him off.

“Zephra thinks we should let Incendin and Par-shon battle each other,” Roine said. “I take it you do not.”

“The archivists weren’t attacking Incendin, only attacking
in
Incendin. They attacked the Aeta, who you have granted your protection.”

A sly smile spread across Roine’s face. “Indeed. Am I to understand that my protection extends into Incendin, then?”

“It does,” Tan said.

“What of the Aeta you found?”

“They have joined the others in the Gathering. They have selected a new First Mother.”

“Since you are here alone, I presume Amia accepted.”

How was it that everyone else seemed unsurprised that Amia would be asked? “She remains with the Aeta,” Tan said.

“Will she ask them to wander, or will they remain within the kingdoms?” Roine asked.

Tan hadn’t asked. “For now, I suspect they will remain. Traveling has become unsafe.”

“You will tell her that she has my support?”

Tan was thankful that Roine would continue to support Amia. Assuming the role of First Mother made her Roine’s equal in some ways. The Aeta might be landless, but they were not entirely powerless. And some would begin to fear them once they learned that they could shape spirit.

“I will tell her.”

“This is not why you’ve come to me tonight.”

“It’s not.”

Roine crossed his arms over his chest. “Get on with it then. What are you going to do?” Tan stiffened, his breath catching, and Roine laughed at the reaction. “I was Athan for many years, Tan, and you are more like me than you might want to admit. I know what it’s like to think you know what needs to be done when the throne wishes something else. So, tell me what you plan to do and I’ll do my best to talk you out of it, knowing that it won’t matter since you’re a much stronger shaper than me anyway.” He grinned. “Don’t look at me like that. You became more powerful than me when you learned to bind spirit. I’ve been trying and think I might have some of the trick of it, but I won’t ever have the same type of shaping as you.”

The relief at knowing that Roine would know what he planned made everything easier. Not easy, but still better. “I’m returning to Doma. I intend to drive Par-shon out of Doma. The people there must be freed.” He paused and considered his king regent, his friend. “I’ve seen what it’s like when Par-shon attacks. I know what it’s like. If that’s why Elle summoned, I
need
to do something, even if it fails. More than that, Incendin suffers as well, and they will do what they can to oppose Par-shon.”