Serpent of Fire (7 page)

“Explain it, then.”

“I asked you to sense fire, and you shaped. I tell you that I did not extinguish fire, and you ask how. Had you sensed rather than shaped, you might understand.”

Tan pulled on saa, asking the fire elemental to assist with his shaping. As saa so often did, it came willingly, leaping toward Tan with a connection to the shaping and drawn to fire. Tan held the shaping, cupping the flame above his hand.

“What do you sense?” he asked.

Seanan studied Tan’s shaping, frowning as he did. “You have exquisite control. How is it that you hold fire like that?”

“This is not
my
control. This is saa.”

Seanan waved a hand dismissively. “Saa is little more than a weak elemental.”

Tan released saa back to the hearth. It was unfortunate that even a fire shaper felt that way about saa. Tan had met other shapers convinced that saa was useless, but fire shapers should be different. “Without saa, I would not still be here,” he said. “What you think is a weak elemental is quite powerful in Par-shon. Saa rivals any fire elemental there.”

“Even the draasin?”

Tan laughed softly. “There are few elementals like the draasin. But there are few draasin remaining. And they have all bonded.”

Seanan looked over again. “All? Even the younglings?”

Tan wondered how much to share with Seanan. He didn’t want to say anything that might tempt him to chase the draasin, to try and reach the lower level of the archives. Seanan would be better served simply listening for saa, to see if there was any way that he could understand that elemental, rather than reaching for one as powerful as the draasin.

“The younglings have been claimed as well,” Tan lied.

Seanan gripped the armrest of the chair and stood. “If you will not teach, then—”

Tan stood and faced him. “If you want to have any hope of bonding to an elemental, especially a fire elemental, you will need to learn to listen. Fire is harsh and dangerous, more so than any of the other elementals.” Tan flicked his eyes to the hearth, softening his tone. “If you would learn, then you will listen. Study saa first. Learn the intricate way it dances within fire. When you understand that, then return to me and we can see what else you might learn.”

Seanan frowned, his brow furrowed as he considered Tan for a long moment, then he nodded, starting toward the door. “I will try this. I don’t know if there is anything that I can learn from an elemental like saa, but…”

Tan tipped his head and Seanan disappeared behind the door.

It was a start. Even if Seanan refused to listen to the lessons that saa could teach, having him focusing on attempting the connection to the elementals seemed the best way to reach him. After all, wasn’t that how Ferran had reached golud? He listened first, letting his desire to learn drive him. Tan couldn’t force him to do that, any more than he could force the elemental to bond. It had to happen naturally. If only he could find some way to bring the bond to others.

Whatever else he did, he needed to help bridge shapers and elementals again. Without sharing a connection, both suffered. But it came down to the same issue he had in trying to teach Seanan: there simply did not seem to be the necessary time for all that he needed to do.

Tan returned to sit in front of the fire, staring at the flames as if searching for understanding. Tonight he would rest. Tomorrow, he would find Cora, and from there, Incendin.

F
or the first time that Tan remembered, golud called to him.

He awoke to the rumbling request, drawn from a restless slumber where he dreamt of men like Seanan, but with faces that he didn’t recognize, each working shapings that seemed designed to attack—to
harness
—the elementals. Even in his dream, there was a certain anxiety to what he sensed, a troubling awareness that shapers did not truly understand what they did to the elementals.

Then the shaking rumbled through him, demanding his attention. For one terrifying moment, Tan thought the rumbling came from another attack on the city, that perhaps Par-shon, or even Incendin, had returned, determined to finish the city’s destruction. But the rumbling was not the same as he’d felt when the city fell. This was deep, rolling through his bones, an unrelenting demand.

Golud.

Tan sat up and jumped from the bed on a shaping of wind. Lying next to him, Amia rolled and opened her eyes sleepily. Tan stood in place, not wanting to move, focusing on trying to understand what golud sent. The earth elemental was difficult for him to reach, but there was no question that was what he sensed.

“What is it?” Amia asked.

Tan looked around the wagon he shared with Amia when he stayed with the Aeta. He’d come to her late, after finally moving past Seanan’s request, long after most of the Aeta had drifted away from the Great Fire at the heart of the circle of wagons once again camped on the outskirts of Ethea. In the week since Par-shon attacked, they remained just outside the walls of the city. Close enough to Ethea for its protection, but far enough that they were separate. From what Tan understood, the Aeta felt the separation important, regardless of his urging them to remain in the city.

When Tan had come to the fire, Amia hadn’t questioned him. Likely she had some understanding of what he’d experienced, sensed through their bond, and the concerned expression on her face had been enough to give him some measure of relief.

The wagon assigned to Amia was simple. The walls were brightly painted like most of the Aeta wagons, her wagon in shades of yellow and orange. Amia had added a wall of a vibrant blue at some point during the last week. Hooks on the wall held personal items, like her dress. A tall shelf rested against the wall near the door. A wide band of silver that gleamed in the moonlight filtering through the open windows remained untouched. Tan wondered if Amia would ever claim the marker of office, or if she would always prefer the gold band gifted to her by Roine.

There were other items in the wagon, things that he once would have found intriguing and valuable. Trinkets from places like Chenir, or silks from Xsa, even pots made with Nor steel, their quality unrivaled elsewhere in the kingdoms. Now Tan simply looked past them. The only valuable within the wagon that he cared about was Amia.

“Golud,” he said.

She sat on the edge of the bed and tipped her head, as if straining to listen. Tan often wondered if she could use the connection they shared to reach the elementals, or if she simply went unaware. She shook her head slightly, as if knowing his thoughts.

“I can’t reach them the same as you, if that’s what you’d like to know,” she said.

Tan smiled tightly as he turned toward the door. The steady rumbling hadn’t eased since starting, still demanding his attention. Could anyone else feel it, or was it meant only for him?

“Go,” Amia said. “See what it is.”

“You could come,” he suggested. Everything felt better having her along with him.

She shook her head. “Tomorrow we will be bringing Lyssa here.”

Tan frowned before remembering that she was the child Roine had discovered, the girl with the ability with spirit. The transition might be difficult for her and Amia intended to make it as smooth and welcoming as possible. Now that she served as First Mother, she had responsibilities, but more importantly, she also had purpose. A change had come over her since she had taken on the title, one that Tan recognized was healthy, but he hated how it kept them apart.

He touched her hand and kissed her cheek. “Rest then. I’ll return when I can.”

Her strained smile told him that she doubted it would be tonight.

Tan grabbed his warrior sword off one of the hooks along the wall and strapped it to his waist before stepping out of the wagon and into the clearing. The wagons were set in a wide circle, now numbering over one hundred representing over a dozen families. A few families had joined after the Par-shon attack, and Amia thought a few more might still be making their way toward Ethea.

The smoldering remains of the fire pulled on him, drawing his attention. Tan ignored it and stepped onto a shaping of wind, lifting him into the air. Honl augmented the shaping, carrying him into the sky. Once there, Tan added the warrior shaping, mixing spirit into it.

There was one place he knew to reach golud to better understand why they had summoned. Never before had golud reached out to him.

As he pulled the shaping toward him, lightning carried him soundlessly toward Ethea, where he emerged in the center of the university. It had changed a lot since falling. Each day brought new changes, the walls rising quickly now, aided by golud working with the shapers—particularly with Ferran—and now the university created a wide horseshoe shape around the yard, with the undamaged shaper circle at the heart of it.

The warm air created by Honl swirled around him, though there were snatches of cooler air coming from ara, who carried the scent of the city, that of the broken remains of the university, the dust still mixing into the air, the lingering remnants of fire that had raged throughout the city, that of metal being forged, of the horses passing along the streets, the sweat of those working and living here, and a few sweeter smells like the flowers growing in squares or bread and pastries from bakeries. Ara carried with it the vibrant and alive scents of life from the city.

Tan expected to be alone, but Ferran was there, dark eyes studying the ground, his face screwed up in concentration.

“Master Ferran,” Tan said, stepping off the circle and toward Ferran, who tipped his head.

He was a thin man, but moved with a rigid strength. He wore a long jacket and loose pants, more casual and open than the hooded cloak Tan had seen him wearing when they first met. He had a serious face and deep, thoughtful eyes. “Athan. I hoped you would come.”

Tan hesitated. “This is not golud?”

“This is golud. I did not know why they summoned at first, but they say that Maelen requested they keep watch.” He met Tan’s eyes. “That is you?”

He hadn’t released that the draasin shared his name with the other elementals. “That’s what the draasin call me, yes.”

Ferran nodded. “Fitting. A warrior’s title.”

“Not so much a title. More like a reference to an annoying creature.”

Ferran surprised him by laughing. “I imagine that to the draasin, many creatures are annoying. Only those with their respect receive attention. Fewer still receive names.”

“That’s one way of looking at it,” Tan said.

“You asked golud to keep watch?”

“I’ve asked all the elementals to keep watch,” he said. But hadn’t it only been over the draasin? He would know if Asgar or Sashari were in danger, wouldn’t he?

Tan focused on fire, feeling the warmth of the stones, the draw of flames in hearths throughout the city, and then reached toward the fire bond. It became easier each time he did it. There, distantly beneath the city, he sensed Asgar and Sashari, both resting silently. Knowing that they were safe, he chose not to disturb them. Distantly, Asboel still hunted.

“What has golud found?” Tan asked.

Ferran nodded to the north. “You don’t hear them?”

“I hear golud, but I still struggle understanding.” He couldn’t explain it any better than that. “I recognized the summons, but not what they want.”

Ferran tipped his head as if understanding. “Come, then. We will learn together.”

Ferran lifted into the air, using a shaping of earth like Tan had seen in Par-shon. He only now understood it. It wasn’t even a difficult shaping, only one that took great strength. Tan followed, but used wind and fire to draw him airward. They traveled over the city, out beyond the northern borders, before settling down onto the wide, rolling hills.

This was the edge of Vatten where it rolled into Ter, the plains covered by tall grasses. Tan reached out with an earth sensing and recognized water and trees and small animals moving silently through the night. A low howl of a wolf called and Tan paused to listen, reminded of the mountain wolves that prowled through Galen. The nearly full moon filtered through thick clouds overhead, leaving a shimmery silver light spilling over the fields.

Tan listened for golud as they stopped. Ferran was bound to the earth elemental, so Tan suspected that he would understand first. As he listened, he felt the steady rumbling, an irritated sense. Angry.

His heart hammered. “Par-shon,” he whispered.

“You are certain?”

Tan swept his arms around him. “That is why golud is upset. There is earth shaping here, but it is bound to an elemental. Forced onto an elemental.”

“They would not try to harvest elementals here,” Ferran said.

“It’s possible they would. The elementals are strong in the kingdoms. Cora once told me how Par-shon had techniques for pulling on the elementals, forcing them to bond.” Could Par-shon have risked sending shapers this deep into the kingdoms?

If they had come for the hatchlings—and he knew that they had—then there was no reason to think that they would not.

“We must find them,” Tan said.

“Theondar should know,” Ferran said.

Ferran was right, but Tan had left his summoning rune coin back in Ethea. Without that, he had no real way of reaching Roine.

“Do you have your summoning coin?”

Ferran shook his head. “We’re in the kingdoms! We should be safe.”

“We were in the kingdoms when Par-shon last attacked.”

There was another way to reach Roine, but it wouldn’t be as direct and he would have to rely upon convincing ara to do what he needed. What other choice did he have?

Tan focused, letting the cool breeze play around him.
Ara. Send word to Aric and Zephra. Tan has need.

There was a soft fluttering of the breeze, and then it eased.

Tan shifted his focus, now listening to golud. The earth elemental only told him that there was something here, but not where. He had learned that the Par-shon bonded could hide themselves using shapings of earth, but could they hide themselves while in the kingdoms, with golud—and shapers able to speak to them—present?

It had to be possible. He had seen how they had obscured themselves. “Can golud tell where they are?” he asked Ferran.

Ferran let out a rumbling request. Tan could almost hear it, but it wasn’t directed at him. Even were he to hear it, he wasn’t confident he’d be able to understand.

After long moments spent waiting, he looked up at Tan. “They are silent.”

“They can’t detect Par-shon shapers?”

Ferran’s eyes tightened. “I no longer hear golud, Athan.”

Tan frowned, focusing on the ground. As he did, he realized that he didn’t, either.

“Are we too late?” he asked aloud.