Prelude to Fire: Parts 1 and 2 (24 page)

L
acertin stood outside
of the city again, holding onto a shaping of earth, pressing it deep into the rock beneath him. The earth rumbled, enough that he could feel it through his sandals, but he didn’t disturb the ground more than that, unwilling to heave it and be more disruptive than he already had been.

“Can you sense it?” he asked Cora.

She touched her hair, pushing it behind her ears. “I feel the ground shaking, if that is what you ask.”

Lacertin realized that he would have to use a more subtle approach. There was no way to test whether she sensed the shaping if she could feel the earth moving. He eased back on his shaping, pulling some of the energy away, and the ground no longer trembled. Through earth sensing, he still felt an awareness of the shaping, but could no longer feel it rolling through him as he had before.

“How about now?”

She pinched her lips and her brow knitted together as she frowned. A sense of fire and wind and water surged from her as she strained to reach for earth, but he detected no earth shaping from her.

She released the surge of shaping with a sigh. “I detect nothing, Lacertin Alaseth.”

He pulled the shaping toward her, thinking that he could use earth in the same way that he had used water and hope that it resonated with her. This time, as the last time he had directed earth toward her, there was no additional draw on his shaping, nothing that made it seem as if she had shaping potential.

Lacertin let the shaping fade.

“We can try again another time,” he said.

Cora relaxed her shaping and leaned toward him. Since he had helped her with the connection to water, she had treated him differently. Rather than with the angry and agitated sense, she approached him cautiously, and when she was near him, he felt a strange tingling thrill through him. He tried to ignore what it meant but found his eyes continually drawn to appreciating the way the Incendin clothing fit on her.

She saw him watching and flushed, but she didn’t turn away. “Why do you continue to work with me, Lacertin Alaseth? What do you intend to gain from attempting to teach me?”

He shook his head. What did he intend to gain? Probably nothing. Even if he gained her trust, there wasn’t much that she would know about what happened to Ilton. And wasn’t that why he was here?

With each passing day, he found himself questioning that more and more. At first, the questions had come from the time spent with the priest, but the last few days had been spent with Cora, and each day that he was with her, he felt the urgency fading, much like the memory of Ilton and Ilianna began to fade.

“You need to understand your shaping,” he said, pulling his eyes away from her and staring toward the distant form of the Fire Fortress. Even from here, he felt the surging power of the shaping used on the flames surging from the highest tower. The longer he was in Incendin, the more the shaping began to pull on something within him, even if he didn’t fully understand how it was created.

“You were a teacher, then?”

Lacertin looked over and saw her watching him intently. He could not pull his eyes away even if he wanted, which he did not.

“I was never a teacher,” he said.

“You would not teach?”

Lacertin shrugged. “I have never had the talent for teaching.” Or the time. Ilton made sure of that, pulling him away and sending him on countless missions, each tearing him from the kingdoms, sending him away when he began to have connections.

But had it been Ilton’s fault that he didn’t have the chance with Ilianna? Lacertin suspected that Ilton wanted he and Ilianna to find a chance to get together, but he hadn’t pushed hard enough and had not done anything to keep Lacertin in the kingdoms or close enough to Ilianna for anything more than their friendship to blossom. In his absence, Theondar had taken the opportunity to get close to Ilianna.

Cora pulled on a shaping of water, drawing it from the distant sense of the brackish pond he detected over the rise where he had first found her when she connected to water. It began to collect around her feet, first staining the ground, and then slowly turning the earth into mud.

Already her strength exceeded his. When he worked to save her while floating in the ocean, he had detected the fact that she had incredible potential. That might have been the reason that she had been so profoundly affected when the shaping failed on her.

“It is… surprising that I am able to call upon water like this. I do not think I would be able to do this without what you did.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You brought me closer to water.”

“I did what I needed. You would have died otherwise.”

Cora released the water shaping and shifted it to wind. The hot, dry air of Incendin began to pull on her, catching her hair. “When I first felt wind pulling on me, I thought that Issa was offering me a different skill than the others.”

“You do have a different skill than the others,” Lacertin reminded her.

Cora nodded. “When fire first came to me, it was powerful. Such strength meant that I would be a Servant of Issa. I thought that explained why I could feel the brush of wind, or why it responded when I called to it.”

Lacertin had heard the term enough times that he wondered what the priest meant by claiming that
he
was a Servant of Issa. It was time that he began to get answers. “Tell me, Cora, what does it mean to be a Servant of Issa?”

She shook her head and released the shaping of wind. “The Servants… they are Issa’s favored and have the hand of the god upon them. It is why we test our shapers to find them, so that we know as many Servants as possible. The Servants guide us and help to lead the people.”

Lacertin frowned. “I thought Incen—” He cut himself off before finishing, “the Sunlands were ruled by a king, much like we are in the kingdoms.”

Cora nodded. “And the Servants counsel the king.”

Lacertin wondered if the counsel meant that they would help determine where to attack next, and how to attack. For all the talk of following Issa, what if the Servants were the reason the kingdoms warred with Incendin?

“And the San?”

The corners of her mouth twitched before she answered. “The San leads the Servants, Lacertin Alaseth.”

Which meant the San had the ear of the king and provided guidance that Lacertin would need to understand. And it meant that if he were to have answers, then he would find them from the San.

The priest was a powerful fire shaper in his own right, but from what Cora said,
all
of the Servants were powerful fire shapers. And the priest had welcomed him, not questioning whether he
should
be granted asylum. If he were so connected to the king, then it meant the king likely knew of Lacertin’s presence.

How had he missed understanding this before?

“The San thinks that you can show me how to use the wind, that you can teach me of water and earth. Is that true, Lacertin Alaseth, even if you are not a teacher?”

She leaned toward him, probably not even aware of the power of the shaping building from her. It surged, growing with strength of fire and wind, and radiated from her like heat from the sun. Lacertin pushed against her shaping, not fighting it, but not wanting it to overwhelm him, either.

Her eyes widened slightly as she realized what she was doing, and she pulled back on the shaping. “Forgive my lack of control.”

Lacertin sniffed. “It’s only because you have potential. And there’s nothing to forgive.” He stared at her, thinking that without guidance, she would be unfocused. Her abilities would develop, but not as they could. Someone with her potential
should
learn. There was a time when he had such potential, a time when Theondar had come to the university with such potential. What would the kingdoms have lost had neither of them learned what they needed?

“I will teach you what I can, Cora. I do not claim to be the most skilled instructor, but I will do what I can.”

Cora nodded and touched the tips of her fingers to her forehead before gesturing toward the sky, to where she believed Issa to be. “Thank you, Lacertin Alaseth.”

T
he crackling flame
in the hearth glowed with more strength than Lacertin would have expected for such a small fire. The shaping that trickled into it fed the flames, slowly building it, and he watched the fire as it danced, writhing within the hearth.

“You have agreed to teach,” the priest said.

They sat in the priest’s room. It was comfortable and spacious and felt like home in a way that surprised Lacertin. A tray of smoked meats and cheeses sat next to them. A tall, mostly empty glass of a heady wine sat next to it. As he pulled on the fabric of his shirt, noting that for the first time since he’d been given it, the fabric felt strange, almost foreign beneath his fingertips, he struggled with what he would say.

How much of that was because of the guilt he felt?

Agreeing to teach… that was tantamount to treason. If he taught Cora anything that could be used against the kingdoms, then wasn’t he the traitor that Theondar claimed? How would he justify it with himself if she ended up attacking the kingdoms?

But she wouldn’t. The barrier prevented that, and even he could not bypass the barrier. And by staying here, he could learn about fire shaping, lessons that would only make the kingdoms stronger, couldn’t he?

“I will teach Cora,” Lacertin said.

The priest’s eyes narrowed. “Only her?”

Lacertin shrugged. “Anything more and I would betray myself.”

“You fear sharing yourself with the Sunlands would brand you a traitor?”

Lacertin sighed. His fears were different than that, though he couldn’t even give voice to them clearly. “I will teach Cora.”

The priest lifted the glass of wine to his lips and took a sip. “You still struggle with your purpose in the Sunlands, Lacertin Alaseth, but the way will be made clear. Issa will see to that.”

Lacertin grunted and pulled a piece of meat from the tray, chewing on it while thinking. He didn’t know whether to believe the priest or to argue with him. Neither would get him anywhere, though.

“My purpose,” he said, taking a drink of his own. The wine filled his mouth, a searing sensation that burned as he swallowed. A trail of flavor came with it, a mixture of berries and warmth and a hint of salt. In that way, it was very much a fitting wine for Incendin. Wines from the kingdoms were usually softer, the flavors more subdued, but this was different. In many ways, Lacertin found it superior. “What if I tell you that I no longer know my purpose?”

He took another drink, knowing that he shouldn’t. Drinking with the priest opened him to dangers of sharing more than he should. What would happen when the priest realized
why
Lacertin had come to Incendin? How would he react when he knew that Lacertin would try to use him to gain the information he needed?

Only, he doubted that the priest—a Servant of Issa, and not only
a
Servant, but
the
Servant—could be used.

No, Lacertin suspected that he was the one being used.

And he didn’t even mind. The priest had not pressured him and had made no effort to force him whatsoever. Anything that Lacertin did, he did of his own volition.

“Then I would tell you that Issa will help you discover a new one.”

Lacertin breathed out and took another drink. It was too much wine, but he didn’t want to stop before the glass was finished. He savored the taste from each sip and let it wash down his throat.

“Like teaching.”

The priest nodded knowingly. “That is one possibility, Lacertin Alaseth.”

Lacertin finished the cup of wine and set it down. “You already know why I came here, don’t you?”

The priest turned to him and set the Book of Issa on his lap, resting his hands on top of it. “Do you wish to speak honestly now, Lacertin Alaseth?”

“Only if you will.”

The priest smiled. “I have never been dishonest with you. That would anger Issa. Everything that we have said to you is the truth.”

“What you see as the truth.”

“That is no different than what every man does. We each must find our own truths, but there are some that are absolute.”

“Such as?”

The priest tapped the Book of Issa. “We know that you were chased from the kingdoms, and that you came to the Sunlands.”

“I’ve told you the same.”

“You are said to have been chased from the dead king’s bedchamber, his resting place, in violation of the customs of your people.”

Lacertin nodded. “That is also true.”

“Tell me then, Lacertin Alaseth, why a man who served his entire life faithfully would violate the resting chamber of his king?”

What did it matter if Lacertin told the truth to the priest? There was nothing he could say that would harm the kingdoms, was there?

“Because his king was not dead.”

The priest smiled at him. “Is that a truth, or something that you wished to be true?”

Lacertin turned to the priest. “Ilton had been poisoned, though none knew it.”

“You have many healers in the kingdoms. How is it that none knew?”

“Because he was poisoned with hound venom.”

Lacertin hadn’t expected to confront the priest with that yet, hoping to gain his trust before he did, but a part of him doubted whether anything he did could gain the priest’s trust. Maybe everything the priest had done and said to him had been about getting Lacertin to trust him.

“There are few who recognize the fact that the hounds poison their victims,” the priest noted.

Lacertin sniffed. “I have a friend who nearly died from it.”

“Nearly?”

Lacertin nodded. “He survived.”

Had he not, and had it been someone else who would have found him at the barrier, what would have happened? Veran had not always been a friend, but had become one quickly. Lacertin had so few friends that he valued the fact that Veran had helped.

“Survival is… unlikely.”

“Probably.”

“How is it your friend managed to survive?”

“I healed him.”

The priest glanced to the Book of Issa. “By your own admission, you are a shaper with strength in fire, not water.”

“And by your own admission, the kingdoms have many capable healers.”

The priest tipped his head to the side and frowned. “Are you saying that the secret to healing your friend was with fire?”

“Not only fire, but the healers failed to see the value in using fire. Had I not attempted it…” Lacertin knew what would have happened. Had he not burned the venom out of Veran, the poisoning would have persisted, eventually killing him no differently than Ilton. The king had been too far gone for him to do much more than delay it. Had Lacertin only learned sooner what was required, he might have managed to help and save his king.

The priest took a sip of wine. “You claim the king was poisoned with the same?”

“He was. I failed to recognize it in time.”

“That is why you are here.” When Lacertin didn’t answer, the priest sighed. “You blame the Sunlands and think us responsible for what happened to you king.”

“I think that hound venom makes Incendin the likely culprit.”

The priest drummed his fingers along the book, looking past Lacertin’s shoulders as if trying to see something on the wall behind him. “For your king to have been poisoned, there would have needed to be someone close enough to administer such a poison.”

Lacertin nodded.

“Ah, Lacertin Alaseth, I am afraid I cannot help as you would like.”

“You won’t tell me who worked with Incendin to poison the king?”

The priest smiled, but it was a sad expression. “I cannot.” As Lacertin shifted in his chair and started to stand, the priest reached for his arm and held him in place. “It is not because I would not share with you, Lacertin Alaseth, but because there was no attempt by the Sunlands.”

Lacertin shrugged off his hand. “It was hound venom.”

“That may be, or it may be any number of other poisons that would kill equally well,” the priest said. “Either way, the Sunlands had no interest in harming your king.”

The comment surprised him. “We were at war. Why wouldn’t you have any interest in Ilton?”

The priest nodded slightly. “War, perhaps, but a war your king did not want. He called for peace, and a truce.”

“Any truce we had failed. Incendin never really wanted peace.”

“Did it? What have you seen since coming to the Sunlands? What has shown you that we want anything but peace and a chance to serve Issa?”

Lacertin thought that truces had failed, but could the priest be telling the truth?

It was possible, and even likely, that he did. But if he did, that meant that someone inside the palace wanted Ilton gone for reasons of their own.

But that made no sense. Other than Althem, no one had anything to gain, and the prince had gone out of his way to see that Ilton obtained the healing he needed. And if the king had not been poisoned by Incendin, then Lacertin’s entire reason for coming here was gone.

With it was gone any hope that he could ever return to the kingdoms.