Serpent of Fire (5 page)

“And the draasin?”

“He is safe,” Tan answered.

Roine peered around Tan and down the hall, as if expecting to find the draasin crawling down the halls of the palace. Roine had learned that Tan housed the draasin beneath the city—at least that secret had finally been shared—and had agreed that Tan had done what was best to keep the draasin from Par-shon. At least, now that Roine understood just what type of threat Par-shon presented. Before that, even Roine still had felt like Incendin was the real threat.

“Good, what about—”

Zephra cut him off. “You said there were two?”

Tan turned to his mother. “We haven’t found the other. The draasin still search.”

“Not Cianna, though,” Roine said. “She returned to the city and said her draasin needed to remain here to protect the little one.”

“She is here. The other remains missing. Roine, if Par-shon has the other draasin, then it’s urgent we find her. We don’t want to face a Utu Tonah strengthened by the draasin. If he bonds to the great fire elemental, he will become even stronger than we can manage.”

Roine glanced at Zephra. Something passed between the two, some silent understanding, and then Roine turned back to Tan. “I trust that you’ll do whatever is needed to protect the kingdoms. That is your charge as Athan, Tan.”

Tan hesitated. “Whatever I feel is needed?” That gave him more flexibility than he suspected Roine intended, but without reaching out to Incendin, there might not be a way to stop Par-shon. The Great Mother knew that without Incendin shapers helping the last time they had faced the Utu Tonah, they would have failed. Only with the arrival of Cora and the other Incendin shapers had they survived.

Roine clapped him on the shoulder. “You don’t hide your plans nearly as well as you would like to think you do, Tan. I think that when I was your age, I was much the same. Too easy to read. Of course, Althem would always have known what I intended.” Roine glanced at Amia. “You think this is necessary?”

“I trust that Tan knows what must be done,” she said. “I don’t have to like it.”

Roine grunted. “In that we agree.” He stepped back toward Zephra and took a deep breath. “You will not do this alone, Tan. You are powerful and you have the backing of the elementals, but where I think you intend to go will be far more dangerous than anything you have ever done.”

Tan doubted that was true. He had stood within the obsidian palace, he had stood before the Utu Tonah and known the power that he commanded, and he had gone to the testing room, where he would have died had he not demonstrated… whatever it was that he had demonstrated. Proof that he was bound to the elementals, perhaps. After that, visiting the Fire Fortress did not seem nearly as terrifying. The only difference was that he knew what he faced going in.

“You’re not going to tell me I shouldn’t go?” he asked.

Roine shook his head. “I don’t think it will work, but I understand that you feel it’s necessary. Even if you manage nothing more than obtaining a peace accord, I think that will be some success.”

“We need more than that with Incendin, Roine. We need them as allies.”

“Knowing what they are, and knowing what they have done, do you think that we can ever truly align ourselves with Incendin?” Zephra asked. “Do you think we can ever find peace when the lisincend are involved?”

She didn’t hide the heat in her voice or bother to conceal her anger, but Tan couldn’t really expect her to. She had lost so much to Incendin and the lisincend.

It always came back to the lisincend. The twisted creatures had tormented the kingdoms for decades. Roine knew better than most how dangerous the lisincend could be, but Tan recognized that there might be a need for the creatures. He might not like it, and he certainly didn’t approve of what they did, but twisting themselves with fire had granted them a different type of strength, one that had been enough to resist the dangers of Par-shon.

“If we don’t, we’ll never know any lasting peace,” Tan answered.

Roine stared at him for long moments. “Peace. Is that what you think we can accomplish?” he asked softly. “That is what you would see the kingdoms find?”

Tan nodded. “Isn’t that what you want?”

“Peace has always been the dream,” he said, mostly to himself. “Come. Let me show you something.”

He pushed past Tan and out into the hall, heading toward the steps at the end of the hall, not waiting for Tan to follow.

T
he stairs up from the lower level of the palace let out into the main hall. Tan found Roine waiting for them at the top. Servants dressed in crisp white palace garb hurried through the halls, most stepping to the side as Roine passed, but all bowing to him. Roine tipped his head at each one, the motion slight, but at least he acknowledged their presence. To a few, Roine even said their names, smiling at them.

When Tan had been in Nor and serving in the manor house, Lord Lind had rarely given anyone below his station much notice, unless to punish them. It was good to see that Roine wasn’t above the simple kindness of recognizing that there were people who worked for him, not simply servants.

“What do you want to show me?” Tan asked.

Amia stayed close by him. Even Zephra had come, making her way up the stairs on a subtle shaping of wind. It was so slight that few shapers would even notice, but Tan recognized the draw of wind and the way that his mother pulled the elementals to her. She did it almost without thinking, seemingly as simple as breathing. And to her, it likely was that simple. She had been shaping wind for longer than Tan had been alive. Much of that time had been aided by the wind elementals.

“Not here,” Roine said.

About halfway down the hall, Roine paused and pushed open a door, disappearing behind it. Tan followed, wondering where Roine would be leading them and what he might think they needed to see.

As he followed Roine, a small group of children, the oldest barely more than six or seven, raced through the halls of the palace, led by one of the white-clad servants. Surprisingly, Master Ferran followed them. They disappeared into another room, their laughter spilling out behind him and echoing down the hall.

Amia smiled at the children. Tan sensed a certain appreciation from her and wondered at its source.

“What is it?” he asked.

“They seem happier than the last time that I saw them.”

“When was that?” He’d been away from the palace for nearly a week, but had thought her focused on getting the Aeta settled within the city during that time. He had been too distracted with Asboel to focus on what she’d been doing in the time he was gone.

“You remember what Roine asked of me? The Great Mother knows it feels like forever ago that he asked.”

He looked toward the door with renewed interest. “You found Althem’s heir,” Tan realized.

Amia touched the band at her neck, eyes going distant as she sensed. “I’m not sure if there is only one heir, or how to decide which is the heir. I think that bothers Roine, not knowing whether there can be
an
heir. I think it means he’ll have to continue to serve. You know how he’s said how little he enjoys that. I think he’d rather be out with you, dealing with Incendin and Par-shon.”

Tan thought of how Roine must have reacted to finding so many children by Althem. What must he have thought? “And the children?”

“Roine wanted them brought to the palace for lessons until the university reopens. After what happened, most of their mothers were willing to send them.”

“Do they know?”

Her face darkened. “I think he hid well what he did. Most were shaped by Althem—forced—into what he wanted. The few who were not were shaped to forget. It has been difficult work finding them. Still, the parents of each child have been happy to send them to the university.”

“Roine doesn’t mind them here?”

“Ferran said this will have to do until the university construction is complete.”

He looked at Amia, amazed that she’d withheld this from him. He suspected that she didn’t want to bother him, that she thought to protect him while he worked with Asboel. “When have you had the time?”

She smiled. “You’ve been busy with the draasin. Serving as First Mother has not taken nearly all of my time. Besides, it’s good for the People to see me serving the kingdoms. Roine has offered his welcome, but many are reluctant to accept. They fear there will be strings attached. Others fear what will happen when our gifts are exposed to the world.”

“You’re showing them that the world already knows.”

Amia shrugged. “At least part does. We’re not all like the archivists. They need to understand that we can choose how we’re viewed, just as we can choose how we use the gifts the Great Mother granted.”

“The people of the kingdoms need to become accustomed to spirit shapers. Besides the Aeta, I’m a spirit shaper. There will be others.”

“You say it like this is easy. Tan, it’s been centuries since the kingdoms knew any spirit shapers, and now there will be dozens.”

“Dozens, and maybe still not enough to save us.” Especially now that Par-shon had learned of spirit. What would happen now that they had? What greater danger did it place the kingdoms in? “What of the children?”

The troubled expression faded and her smile returned. “Roine seems pleased. Many are promising sensers. He thinks there will be shapers among them as well.”

She didn’t say it, but Roine hoped to discover warriors among them. Althem had done terrible things with his spirit shaping, had manipulated and coerced and occasionally forced himself upon others, but there could be some good that would come out of it, just as there had been some good that had come from all the horror that Tan had experienced.

Amia nudged him into the doorway. Tan stared over his shoulder, unable to shake the thought of the children. They deserved a chance to study and learn their shaping—if they were meant to shape—without the fear of war looming over them. They deserved the chance to reach for the elementals and understand that there was much that could be gained from working with the elemental powers. And Ferran would be a good teacher. Unlike some, he had embraced the change, recognizing that the old ways of the university needed to be different for them to succeed.

Tan felt Roine’s eyes on him as they entered the room. When he met the regent’s eye, Roine glanced at Amia. “You saw them?” Roine asked.

Amia nodded. “They’ve grown quickly. Even in the few weeks we’ve had them, we’ve managed to demonstrate significant sensing in nearly half.”

Tan looked around the room. It was a grand space, wide open with a ceiling nearly twenty feet over his head. Portraits hung on the walls, but they were different than those representing the rulers who had come through the kingdoms. Here, these depicted maps and battle scenes, and visions of the countryside. A few shapers lanterns hung on posts at the center of the room and had been shaped to provide a soft white light.

“Any of spirit?” Tan asked. Althem had been a spirit shaper, much like Amia. They didn’t know if he had potential toward other elements, but he had been a master with spirit, more skilled than even the First Mother.

“There is one of spirit,” Roine said. “She is small and feisty. She has remained with us in the palace.”

Tan wondered if that was for the best or not. It wasn’t only the people of Ethea who feared spirit shapers. Other shapers did as well. Would confining a spirit shaper to the palace really help other shapers find them less dangerous? Would it help the shaper learn control and skill, so that they didn’t injure others?

Amia sensed his thoughts and nodded. “I’ve worked with her a few times. She boards in the palace not for her protection but because her mother could no longer manage her. She fears the way the girl senses her. It is an ancient way of thinking, a superstition that serves no one.”

Roine nodded. “In that, we agree. That is another thing I would like to speak to you about, Amia, only I didn’t expect to do so now. Since you brought it up…” Zephra touched Roine’s arm, and he shook his head at her. “No, Zephra. In this, I think you’re wrong. We can help the girl learn about shaping, but we don’t know anything about spirit. Amia does. The Aeta do.”

“Theondar, think of what has happened with them already. What they nearly cost us.”

“I have. Without Amia and the other Aeta, we would have lost much more than we have.”

“What would you ask of me?” Amia asked.

Roine turned to her. “Take her to the Aeta. Raise her among people who share her ability. Teach her to use it wisely. If she is never anything more than a senser… well, so be it. But if she learns shaping, then teach her that as well. Raise her to understand the right way shaping spirit should be used.”

Amia nodded without hesitation. “She will be raised as one of the People.” Amia made a point of looking at Zephra. “She will learn to understand the gifts the Great Mother has given. She will use them to help her people.”

Zephra didn’t blink as Amia stared at her. Tan thought they had resolved the issues between them, but did his mother still harbor lingering doubts tied to Amia’s ability to shape spirit? Would he ever manage to convince her that Amia could be fully trusted?

Amia had just as much reason to distrust the rest of the kingdoms. What had the shapers done to help the Aeta? Nothing other than force them to continue to migrate, to move throughout the land. They might offer trade, but there had never been protection offered before now.

“What did you bring me here to show me?” Tan asked.

Roine’s eyes drew tight with concern, the corners wrinkled more than they had been a few months ago. Then, there had been a playfulness to Roine. Since assuming the title of king regent, that had gone, lost like so much else since learning of Althem’s betrayal.

“You said that you wanted to see peace brought to the kingdoms,” Roine said, guiding Tan toward a far wall.

A large map hung there, different than the one hanging in the hall. This depicted the kingdoms only. Nothing beyond the borders was shown. Ethea sat off-center, staggered to the east rather than in the center of the kingdoms. Tan recognized why that would be even if others did not. The founders of the kingdoms, those who first pulled these lands—including Ethea—from the sea, had intended to create another place of convergence. Doing so required sitting at the heart of the land, much like the place of convergence in the mountains had once sat at the center of the land, long before shapers had claimed Vatten and stretches of Ter from the sea.

“Your mother said that we are much alike. In that, I think she is more right than she realized. When I was your age, I thought the same as you. I thought I could bring peace to the kingdoms, that if I wanted it enough, I could shape it into being.” Roine stared at the map, his eyes losing focus. “For years, that’s what I strove for. Even through the Incendin War, I wanted nothing but peace. So much was lost then. Shapers. Warriors. The hope I’d carried to find a lasting peace.” He turned away from the map and caught Tan’s eyes. “You see, when Incendin attacked, others thought to capitalize on a perceived weakness. It was not only Incendin that we had to deal with.”

As he said it, Tan realized what Roine was implying. He remembered stories told to him by his father. Stories that he had thought his father had heard rather than lived firsthand. They detailed Theondar, pushing back an attack by Stinnis. The island nation had sought to claim part of Vatten, coming across the sea by boat, terrorizing the shorelines. Without Roine, the coastal regions of Vatten might have been lost. And then there was the Roke invasion. Roke had long ago been claimed by Chenir, but there was a faction that sought to carve out land of their own, taking from Ter. Without the warriors—without Theondar—they might not have been stopped.

“Why do you think the kingdoms are always under threat of attack, Tannen?” Roine asked gently.

Why couldn’t they find a way to reach a lasting peace, one that didn’t require constant battling? “I don’t know.”

“You do, but you don’t want to admit it to yourself. The kingdoms have always been flush with shapers. More than any other land. Sure, Incendin has fire shapers and Doma has some shapers of their own, but they were never found in the same quantities as the kingdoms.”

“Shaping has become less common even in the kingdoms,” Tan reminded him.

Roine’s face clouded. “Yes, and we still don’t understand why that might be. Having you has been a start. And Althem, even though what he did disgusts me, if even half of these children can learn to shape, then we’re already well on our way to rebuilding the university.” Roine turned back to the map and then made his way down the wall to another.

This showed the lands beyond the kingdoms, with the kingdoms at the center. The map made everything look so small. The kingdoms were there, the separate nations of Vatten, Ter, Nara, and Galen all joined together, but they were small compared to the surrounding lands. Incendin rivaled the kingdoms for size. Chenir, to the north of Incendin, might be small and isolated, but it was nearly the size of Ter. And beyond the sea, the map marked where Par-shon and the Xsa Isles were found, far off the coast of Incendin. Once, that distance would have seemed impossible, but now that Tan knew how to travel by a warrior shaping, it could be traversed in moments.

“You see, we are but a small part of something greater,” Roine said. “All would like the strength our shapers have. Were they able, they would take our shapers, much like Incendin once took Doma shapers, twisting them to serve. We have been kept safe from such a fate in the kingdoms, protected over the years by the barrier, but now that it has fallen…”

Roine took a deep breath, studying the map. “And who is to say what is beyond the sea? Out beyond the reaches of where these maps could go, beyond where even the ancients risked shaping themselves, there could be even more land, other places, equally eager to invade. Such is the way of the world, Tannen. Such is the reason we must remain vigilant.”

He paused to meet Tan’s eyes. There was sadness in the way he stared at Tan openly, his brow creased and his jaw tightly clenched. Roine had stuffed his hands into his pockets while studying the map and now pulled them out, crossing his arms over his chest. “I understand your desire to see peace. I really do. And I know that you have seen more bloodshed and death than any man your age. Few alive have experienced the horrors that you have witnessed and none would have survived, and certainly not with nearly the grace you’ve shown. But even when we stop Par-shon—and we
will
stop them from attacking the kingdoms—another will come. It might not be Incendin. It might not even be one of these places on this map, but the kingdoms must remain vigilant.”