Changed By Fire (Book 3) (9 page)

“Only because he found the key.”

Roine glanced over at Tan and shook his head slightly.

Tan’s mother followed the direction of Roine’s gaze. “He doesn’t know?”

Roine turned back to the curtain. “I never told him.”

His mother faced Roine. “Theondar, he deserves to know. You involved him in all of this.”

Pain pulled at the corner of Roine’s eyes. “I didn’t mean to pull him into this. That was never my intent.”

His mother snorted. “Never? You came into Galen searching for the artifact. I would say that was exactly your intent.”

“Not your son, Zephra.”

She smiled, her eyes settling on Tan. “When you came to Nor, I knew what you sought, just as I knew what the hounds likely meant. Why else do you think I suggested Tan go with you? He would have been your best option for getting through the upper passes, but I also wanted him to be safe.”

Roine grunted. “By sending him into the middle of everything?”

“I didn’t expect you to let the lisincend get so close. I thought you better than that, Theondar.”

Roine tipped his head toward Tan. “Not my choice to get so close to the lisincend. Tan wouldn’t help otherwise. He was the reason we went after the Aeta.”

“And if we hadn’t, you never would have found the artifact,” Tan interrupted. He began to get a sense of how others viewed Theondar: there was a certain antagonism to him. He fixed Roine with his eyes. “What did she mean about the key?”

Roine inhaled deeply, staring at the curtains as if they could provide an answer. He answered slowly. “The key we used to find the artifact.”

“The one damaged as we ran from the lisincend?”

“I told you how I have been looking for the artifact for many years. There is more to it than that. I wasn’t the first to search for it.”

Tan frowned. “Lacertin?”

Roine closed his eyes and nodded. “The scholars convinced King Ilton the artifact must be found. He trusted no one other than Lacertin to go and find it. It is what he brought back when he returned to Ethea before Ilton’s death.”

“You took it from him, didn’t you?”

Roine shifted his attention from Tan to Zephra, eyes narrowing and his mouth tight. “After he violated Ilton’s death chamber, Althem requested I learn where Lacertin had gone. You think Lacertin and I don’t get along? Well, it was worse between Althem and Lacertin. They entered the university at the same time, only Lacertin quickly demonstrated his ability.”

“You said Althem didn’t care about shaping.” Tan wasn’t sure that was quite right but couldn’t remember everything Roine had told him about the king’s view on shaping.

“Althem doesn’t choose to reveal if he can shape. There is a difference.”

“Can he shape?”

“Only Althem can answer that.”

He hid something more, but Tan couldn’t tell what it might be.

Roine breathed. “Tell me, Zephra. Why did you summon me here? If not for Tan, then why?”

“I summoned you to understand why you returned.”

Roine snorted. “Why? The archivists have shaped the king. If you knew what happened, then you understand the significance of his shaping.”

“You don’t know he’s been shaped.”

Roine tipped his head. “No? I have an Aeta shaper that says differently.”

“And you trust her?”

“
I
trust her,” Tan said.

His mother didn’t look over at him. “Theondar. Do you trust her?”

Roine’s eyes narrowed. “She helped recover the artifact. Had she not revealed her shaping, we would never have found it in time.”

“Had she never revealed herself, the lisincend would never have found it, either,” his mother said.

“What are you suggesting, Zephra?”

“Only that there is much we don’t know about the Aeta.”

Tan turned on her. “You traveled with them. You’re the one who chastised Lord Alles for not treating them well!”

“You think the Aeta a threat?” Roine asked.

“I think there is more to the Aeta than we know.” She finally acknowledged Tan’s involvement. “And you know it, too. It is one thing to treat them well. It is quite another to entrust the safety of the kingdoms to them.”

The Aeta were responsible for the archivists. They were the reason the shapers attempted to attack the draasin. They were the reason the king might have been shaped.

But Tan trusted Amia. The bond between them revealed far more than his mother could ever understand. “Amia is no threat,” he insisted.

“Perhaps not, but we don’t know about the rest of the Aeta. Especially after what happened with the archivists.”

A mixture of emotions surged through the shaped bond between him and Amia. She was close. He turned and saw her standing in the doorway, eyes hiding the hurt she felt.

I
t took
a few moments for the others to realize Amia had come.

Tan hurried over to her and took her hand. “You heard,” he whispered.

She fixed his mother with tired eyes and nodded.

His mother stared at Amia as she entered, touching her head as a shaping built. Tan realized that she performed a shaping to protect her mind. Could wind alone shield her from a spirit shaping?

“Amia,” she began. “I was sorry to hear about your loss.”

“Zephra. The Great Mother truly blesses us that you survived,” she spoke stiffly.

“You left Althem?” Roine asked.

His mother’s eyes narrowed into a tight line.

Amia sighed. “There is little more I can do. The shaping was wrapped tightly around his mind and burrowed deep. I unraveled what I could, but there is much damage. I came to tell you I did all I could.”

Roine crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his hand anxiously. “How much damage?”

“I cannot say. More than I can safely remove.”

“So that’s it? Althem cannot be saved?” Roine asked.

She looked over at Tan’s mother. “I’m no longer sure you will believe me.”

“Ignore Zephra,” Roine said, making his way toward her.

“Are you certain?” she asked.

“Do you need me to prove it?”

Amia shook her head. “I didn’t think I did.”

Roine laughed softly, standing now next to her. He lowered his arms and his hands were outstretched along his sides. “Go ahead.”

She tilted her head, watching him. “You aren’t shielded.”

“As I said, I trust you.” A quick shaping built, surging out from her and washing over Roine. As it did, he sucked in a sharp breath. “Satisfied?” Roine asked.

“For now,” Amia said, eyeing Zephra.

“Good. Now tell me about Althem.”

“I’ve told you what I can. There is a shaping, but it’s complex. Nothing like I’ve ever seen before. What they did to you and the other shapers was simple. Like giving directions, leaving you primed for further instructions. With the king, the shaping is different. It influences him in ways I can’t predict. I unraveled parts of it, but there is much of it that remains. If I tried to remove more than what I did, it’s likely I’ll damage him. I assume you don’t want him damaged?”

“I already answered that.”

“You should know the shaping I can trace is old. Some of it goes back many years, impacting all of his memories.”

“Since I learned of the archivists, since learning they shaped me, I have wondered how long Althem might have been influenced,” Roine began. “More than that, I started thinking back to the past, beyond Althem.”

His mother frowned. “Ilton?”

Roine nodded slowly. “I’m hesitant to say because I don’t know with any certainty, but you know the circumstances under which he died.”

A troubled expression crossed his mother’s face. Tan had seen it often growing up. When his father injured his leg falling while working along the upper ridges. Or when Tan fell sick. The worst had been when his father left with his summons. The expression had stuck to her face for weeks, finally returning when the message of his death reached them.

“I remember. The king hadn’t been sick before Lacertin left. The illness came on suddenly, one the healers couldn’t shape,” Zephra said.

Roine nodded. “And the scholars had no answers.”

“Scholars? The archivists were with Ilton then?”

“Even then. They stayed with him constantly at first. When his health began to truly fail, they left him to water shapers, though by that time, most of our skilled shapers were deployed to support the creation of the barrier.”

“Grethan and I were there.”

“As was I, though I returned regularly then.”

“There was no suspicion around his death,” his mother said. “Only around…” She trailed off, brow furrowing as it did when she focused on something. “Did Lacertin know?”

“I don’t know,” Roine said. “If he did, why wouldn’t he have said anything? Why run from Ethea if he knew the archivists had killed his king?”

“I don’t think he knew anything about the archivists,” Tan said. “Not at first. The Lacertin I met wouldn’t have abandoned the kingdoms. I don’t think he ever abandoned the kingdoms.”

Roine met Tan’s eyes. “I know you want to believe him. I know you think that because he seemed to help, he is trustworthy, but this is Lacertin. I have known him for nearly as long as I’ve been alive.”

“And you haven’t changed in that time?” Tan’s mother asked. “You’re still the same person you were when Lacertin left Ethea?”

“You know I’m not, Zephra.”

A satisfied look crossed her face. “Likely you refuse even speaking to Lacertin.” She raised a hand as Roine started to interrupt. “Don’t deny it. I’ve known you a long time as well, Theondar. Your pride gets in the way. You refuse to accept others might have another way of reaching the same goal. That has always been your problem.”

Roine laughed bitterly. “In that, we are much the same.”

She cocked her head as she thought about what he said. “Perhaps. But I have spoken to Lacertin. When I sought him out to understand why the lisincend crossed the barrier.”

“And what did he tell you?” Roine asked.

“Not everything. I don’t think he trusted me fully. Lacertin has never trusted anyone other than Ilton fully. But enough for me to understand the danger of what Incendin planned. That if they acquired the artifact, more than simply the kingdoms were in danger.”

“You can’t believe what he says about the elementals,” Roine said.

She shrugged. “I don’t know what I can believe. We have not known a great elemental of fire since the draasin disappeared. I cannot begin to understand how the elemental power works. Perhaps holding them in ice preserved their influence, preventing the others from making a claim. Or perhaps the lesser elementals were never strong enough to make a claim of becoming the greater. Either way,
if
Lacertin is right, then much of the world is in danger.”

“They have the artifact,” Tan said. “The shaper who transformed into one of the lisincend, she took the artifact.”

“There is more to the creation of the lisincend than simply the artifact,” Zephra said. “Long ago, before I ever learned to catch the wind, I witnessed a transformation. It was a terrifying experience, one that drove much of my work when I still served the university.”

Tan noted how she said she served the
university
, not the king.

Roine looked at Amia. “Whatever threat Incendin poses pales in comparison to what might happen with Althem compromised.”

“There is nothing more I can do,” Amia said.

His mother regarded her. “Perhaps not you,” she agreed.

Amia frowned at her. “I thought you do not trust the Aeta.”

“I don’t know who I should trust. If Theondar and my son trust you, then I must, too.”

Amia studied Zephra. A sense of uncertainty flickered through the shaped connection.

“There is another,” his mother said. “And if I remember what I learned traveling with the Aeta, now would be the time.”

Nervousness surged through Amia. “I can’t…”

“No? And if you don’t, what will happen?”

Tan turned to Amia and took her hands. “What is she talking about?”

She let out a slow breath and met his eyes. “I told you there was another blessed by the Great Mother? The one who taught me?”

Tan nodded.

“She wants me to ask her to heal the king.”

“Can she?”

Amia sighed. “I don’t know. If there is any who would be able to unravel the shaping, it would be her.”

“Where is she?”

“A place sacred to the Aeta. A place no outsider has ever gone.” Amia said. “And she wants me to bring him there.”

T
hey stood
in the broken remains of the university, which had been ravaged by the fires that had worked through the city. Tan wondered if the university had been the ultimate target. Much of the walls crumbled, layering what had once been a grassy area with dust and broken debris. Little of the university remained, only the barest outline of its form. Unnatural smoke shimmered in the air. What few shapers remained in the city didn’t have time to work on rebuilding the university. Most were deployed to defend the barrier.

The sun broke through the clouds but still didn’t warm them. The hazy smoke lingering in the city drifted along the streets, almost as if it were alive. Everything stunk of ash and decay. Crews of men worked diligently, attempting to clear the streets before rebuilding could take place, but there was only so much they could do.

Tan grasped Amia’s hand, holding onto her tightly.

His mother stood across from him, watching him with a hint of amusement in her eyes. For reasons Tan didn’t understand, she hadn’t fully warmed to Amia. “He does not need to go with you.”

Tan frowned. “I’m not letting Amia leave without me.”

Zephra looked over at him. “You will not be welcome. Not at the Gathering.”

“Perhaps not at first, but there is another reason for Tan to go.”

“You think he can shape spirit,” Zephra said.

“I know he can shape spirit. And the Gathering is the best place for him to learn to control his shaping.”

“And you’re certain he doesn’t simply pull through you?” his mother asked.

“What you suggest isn’t possible.”

Zephra smiled. “There are many who think the ability to speak to all the great elementals is not possible, but Tan claims to do so.”

Roine, wearing a heavy cloak, made his way toward them. Cianna trailed after him. Her bright red hair hung loose, flowing over her shoulders. She radiated a shimmering heat through her tight orange shirt and leather pants. She glanced at Tan and smiled.

With the smile, he remembered the heat of her body pressing near his as she tried teaching him to shape. A flush worked through him. Amia’s sharp look told him their shared connection was betraying his feelings.

“She taught me fire,” he said.

“Hmm. I’m sure she did,” Amia said.

“What is this?” Tan asked when Roine and Cianna arrived.

Roine looked at Tan’s mother. “Zephra is right. I need to stop living in the past. If Lacertin is right, then I can’t stand by and wait for an attack. If Althem won’t order the remaining shapers to move, then I will.”

“You think that wise, to leave the kingdoms unguarded?” Amia asked.

“They are not unguarded. Some remain, especially along the barrier, enough to hold back an attack and send warning.” He pulled several small circular stones from his pocket and held one up. A single rune was carved into the surface. “Any can send warning. Each of us will carry one. If you receive the warning, you will return to help Ethea.”

“I don’t think Ethea is what Incendin is after,” Zephra said.

“Perhaps not.” Roine attention fell on Cianna. “Their end game may be to claim Nara, as it always has been. Either way, we will be prepared.”

“That’s not all Incendin is after,” Tan said. He thought about Doma, about the information Elle and Sarah—his mother—had shared with him. “Why else would they take shapers from Doma?”

Roine holds his hands up to stop him. “One thing at a time.”

“You think to simply go into Incendin and attack?” Tan asked. “All these years we’ve avoided Incendin, and now you think to shape your way in and attack?”

“I think to reclaim the artifact. If it is the key to what Incendin plans, then I will do what is needed to protect us.”

“You can’t do that alone, Roine. The only thing that could come of that would be for you to die.”

“I won’t be alone.” He looked at Cianna. “My weakest element is fire. Cianna will help.”

“And I’m going too, Tannen,” Zephra said. “I know how to find Lacertin.”

“Four of you?” he asked. “Against all of Incendin? Why now? What changed for you?”

His mother held out her hand. A small, smooth stone with a tiny rune glowed on one surface. “It’s Lacertin. He would only call if he needed help.”

Lacertin needed help. That meant something had gone wrong. Lacertin had asked him to come but he had refused. What had he risked by ignoring Lacertin’s request? “Let me summon the draasin, let us have an elemental on our side—”

“This is not your battle with Incendin this time. You have something else you must do. You must learn to control your shapings. If you can’t, there is little you can do while in Incendin.” He smiled, but it appeared forced. “Besides, it is more than four of us. I’ve convinced a few others to come as well.”

He tipped his head and Tan noticed Ferran, Nels, Alan, and Seanan—all shapers twisted by the archivists—standing to the side. Even they would not be enough, not against Incendin and not if they had Doma shapers working with them.

“If I bring the draasin—” Tan started.

“Don’t be stupid, Tan,” Cianna snorted. “You’re smarter than that. As much as I would like to fight alongside the draasin, if you bring them into Incendin, you risk the lisincend getting the one thing they want. Right now, the draasin are safe. Do as Theondar says. Learn your shaping. Learn control. Then you can help.”

Tan turned to Roine. “It won’t be as simple as what you think, Roine. You saw her…”

“She is a creature of fire, the same as the lisincend. I have fought the lisincend more times than you, Tannen. Do not think me incapable.” He touched a hand to his sword.

Tan thought of the runes in the lower level of the archives and sighed. Nothing he would say would sway Roine. Besides, what he and Amia needed to do was equally important. He didn’t know exactly where they were going, but if there was anything they could do to help save the king, they needed to do it, and before whatever shaping the archivists had placed damaged him further. Maybe then they could summon the other shapers to help.

“You will bring us to the Aeta?” Tan asked Roine.

“I’ll have help,” he answered, nodding toward Zephra.

They stood in the midst of the damaged shaper’s circle, the stones now uneven. Roine stood on one side of Tan and Amia while Zephra stood on the other.

“Be safe, Tannen,” his mother said. She gave him a quick hug and stepped away, eyes flickering to Amia. “Keep him safe.”

Then the shaping engulfed them, lifting them into the air on a blur of wind.

W
ind whistled around them
, cold and biting. Even with the cloak he had brought, Tan hadn’t prepared for the weather. While riding with Asboel, it hadn’t mattered. The heat from the draasin had kept him warm. Now, walking alongside Amia, he felt every gust as it blew through the trees.

“How much farther?” he asked.

Amia pulled her cloak tight around her. “I can’t say with certainty. Finding this place was something Mother never taught me, though even those not blessed are able to do it. I am trying to sense my way to them.”

They had been walking the better part of two days, winding their way through the mountains. Roine and his mother had shaped them part of the way, carrying them on a gust of wind mixed with fire—the lancing lightning he had always seen when Lacertin arrived.

Tan worried about Amia. She had been through so much that he wasn’t sure she should take him to this gathering of Aeta, especially after what happened to her the last time she traveled with them. At least this time she went with eyes open. And after she left him with the Aeta, what would she encounter as she returned with help to Ethea to save the king?

“Are you certain about your plan?” he asked.

“You don’t need to save me, Tan.” She touched his face softly. “Maybe this will be good. You can see I am capable.”

“I’ve seen what you can do, how you shaped the draasin. Without you, none of this would have been possible.”

A shadow of troubled thought crossed her face. “I’ve been thinking about the draasin,” she started. “I think Roine is right. I should not have been able to shape one of the elementals.”

“You did it in a place of power where the Great Mother brings all the elements together. I don’t think it’s surprising at all that you shaped the draasin in that place.”

“They are creatures of power. The more I think of what I did, the less comfortable with it I am.”

Tan considered of what he knew of the draasin from his connection to Asboel. The shaping placed upon them by Amia was restrictive, but not so much so that they were unable to hunt. She had simply limited
what
they could hunt.

And would the shaping hold once the eggs he saw clutched in Asboel’s talons the last time he’d seen him eventually hatched? Would the hatchlings have the same restrictions as the draasin they freed from the ice?

“Will she teach me?” he asked.

Amia focused straight ahead. “I don’t know. I hope so.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Then I will teach you as we planned.”

Tan nodded. “How long do you think it will take?”

Amia shook her head again. “It’s different with each person, I think. When I came, I was very young. When the Gathering took place, Mother knew it would take longer than previous years. At that time, there were two others able to shape spirit, both older than me. One was quite a bit older, a Mother during her time, who now served all the people. The Gathering is the only time we are a People. Otherwise, we travel as families.”

“How long did it take?”

“I learned the basics. Enough to control the shaping and keep from damaging others. Spirit shaping is riskier than others in that way. You often can’t see the effect of your shaping. If a shaping is made accidentally, there can be… unplanned consequences.” She glanced over at him, wearing a guilty expression.

“I don’t blame you for what happened that night,” Tan said. “I just wish I could have done more.”

Amia looked away. A mixture of emotions came through the shaped connection. “You did more than you needed, Tan. Had you not arrived, I would have suffered the same fate as the Mother. I am only sorry we brought the lisincend to your village.”

Once, he had wanted nothing more than a quiet life in Nor, a life spent climbing the mountains of Galen. The arrival of the Aeta had changed that. Now he had no idea what he wanted for himself, only that he wanted Amia to be a part of it.

She smiled at him. “I want that, too.”

Tan laughed softly. She shouldn’t have known what he was thinking, but the connection between them seemed deeper since he had carried her into the pool of spirit. And had he not, the archivists twisting her shaping would have poisoned her mind enough that she might not have survived. Or worse, Amia might have been used to create the new lisincend.

They walked a while longer in silence. Darkness began to set; the sun faded behind the trees, leaving a heavy gloaming that sent shadows skittering across the forest floor. Tan felt no fear moving through the darkness of unfamiliar woods. Years spent learning earth sensing from his father gave him a certain confidence. All around, he sensed life. That by itself was reassuring. But something felt wrong.

“Do you sense anything?” he asked.

Amia cocked her head as she listened, then frowned. “Do you?”

He couldn’t tell what triggered the sense. Other than the familiar awareness of forest, that of trees and the animals living here, he sensed nothing out of the ordinary. Certainly nothing that made him think the Aeta might be near.

“What if we don’t find them?” How many nights would they wander before giving up on finding the Aeta? And if they didn’t find them, what then? The king remained trapped by the archivist’s shaping. What would happen if he couldn’t be freed?

“That’s my fear as well,” she said, again knowing his thoughts. “If we can’t find them, I’ll do what I can to help the king, but I think Roine will have to recognize he might be forever lost—”

The soft tinkle of bells drifted through the forest, interrupting her. Tan frowned. It didn’t come on the wind. Had it been shaped?

Amia’s face twisted and Tan paused, struck by her fear instead of comfort she was finding her people. How would she react when they reached the place of the Gathering?

After another dozen steps, flickering lights emerged from the growing darkness: lanterns hanging from wagons arranged in a familiar wide circle. Dozens of colorful wagons, painted no differently than any other Aeta caravan he had ever seen circled in the midst of the trees. Tan would almost have thought the wagons were simply parked for the night, left idle while the Aeta rested before moving onto their next destination, but none of the wagons had any wheels.

He squeezed Amia’s hand. They had reached the Gathering, but how?