Endless Night (5 page)

A
lena found
Cheneth outside the barracks. The old man had a certain signature to earth shaping, and her ability with water revealed him as well, letting her know the way that his pulse beat steadily within his chest. There was a solid reassurance to him, Alena felt, thanks to how much knowledge he possessed.

“Where have you been?” she asked more harshly than she intended.

Cheneth’s gaze drifted to the north before he turned back to her and smiled. “I could ask you the same. None have seen you but for a few moments since your return. But I see the weariness in your eyes. I know what you’ve been doing.”

Alena felt a flush work through her. There were other responsibilities beyond working with the egg, and other concerns that she needed to focus on. Her other student had gone missing. And Volth needed her to continue to work with him, especially now that he had managed to reach water and could speak with it.

“I can’t leave the egg,” she said softly. “I’m no good to the barracks if I can’t clear the connection to it. I can barely shape, and dreams of fire consume me when I sleep. It’s as if I
feel
the draasin even when I’m not there.”

“You rescued the female. She needs to care for the egg, Alena.”

“But she won’t. And until she does, I have to do what I can.”

A troubled expression passed over his face. “You speak to them. Convince her to help.”

Alena let out a frustrated sigh. “I have
tried
. She fears what happened to her. Convincing her to help the egg is not as simple as setting the egg in front of her. I’ve tried that, and she only ignores it.”

“Can you ask the other draasin to help?”

She sighed. “I have tried that as well. He does what he can and offers his assistance, but he thinks the female only needs more time.”

But that wasn’t all he thought, was it? He claimed that a darkness still haunted her. How could Alena help the draasin if she didn’t understand what troubled her?

Cheneth pulled his glasses down on his nose and studied her. A shaping built, but she couldn’t determine what it was. With Cheneth, that was not uncommon. She had only learned he could
shape like this recently. And now that she knew, he made little attempt to hide the fact, though he still obscured
what
he shaped.

His eyes flashed, almost as if changing colors, but that sense faded.

“You must do what you can for the egg and for the draasin. But Alena, if you cannot help it, you will have no choice but to destroy it.”

“I know.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “What of the girl we brought back with us? Wyath seemed to think there was something special about her.” Alena knew the people of Rens weren’t really responsible for the war with Ter, but Wyath seemed to believe this girl had the ability to be a warrior. Rens had shapers, but they had never shown any potential of the order.

“There
is
something special about her,” Cheneth said.

“What?”

“In time, Alena. In time.”

She suppressed a surge of frustration. Pressing Cheneth would get her nowhere with him. She knew that well enough. “What is your plan for finding Bayan?”

“That is why I asked you to join me here.”

Alena frowned. When Cheneth left word that she meet him outside the barracks, she had thought it had something to do with the draasin. That was usually the reason for her to meet with him secretively. But Bayan? “Did you find her?”

“We haven’t found her, but I fear we must. We haven’t seen it yet, but she is skilled. With her ability to detect shapings and know their intent… We must find her, Alena.”

“I can’t.”

Cheneth frowned. “The egg? The female won’t harm it while you’re gone. She might even decide to help hatch it. But Bayan needs you. You’re one of the most skilled warriors who has ever come out of Atenas.”

“Cheneth—”

“We will need everyone with unique abilities if we are to survive Tenebeth. Everything I’ve discovered makes me more afraid. When released, he will attack, Alena. Perhaps not today, but he is already free.”

“I want to help,” she said, “but I can’t.”

“The egg.”

“Not the egg. Well, maybe the egg. It pulls on me, tearing away my ability to shape. I’ve grown weaker, Cheneth. I’m not sure that I could even shape my way outside the barracks if I had the need.”

He studied her with a renewed interest. “That’s why you’re so tired.”

She nodded. “It’s like I’ve been shaping for two weeks straight. Whatever Jasn did helps delay it. It takes away some of the strain, but I can feel that isn’t even enough. Over time…”

“Then the egg will have to be destroyed.”

“No.” The heat in her voice made Cheneth take a step back. “There are so few draasin already, Cheneth. We destroy even one… and we will lose. Isn’t that what you fear? There has to be a reason that Tenebeth has claimed the draasin first. Find the answer to
that.
”

“They’re some of the oldest of the elementals,” he answered softly. “An ancient part of the world that dates back to a time long before man ever set foot on this earth. And I suspect that it’s not only the draasin that he targets. Each of the ancient elementals will be marked. We have only seen the draasin, but that’s because we
can
see them. Others have been just as active.”

“We’ve heard nothing—”

“
You’ve
heard nothing. But that doesn’t mean there’s been no word of other attacks.”

“Why now? What’s changed that Tenebeth would suddenly attack now?”

Cheneth pushed his glasses back up on his face and shook his head. “I don’t know. There is a place I can go for answers, but doing so will take me away from the barracks for longer than I care to be gone.”

“If you can find answers, don’t you think it’s worth the risk? We will be fine without you for a while.”

Cheneth smiled. “Will you? Haven’t you just told me that your shaping ability is drained by the draasin? And we have a nya’shin from Rens here with abilities far beyond what I’ve seen in decades. One of our own is missing, and her with abilities that Tenebeth would value. And unrest within the barracks. It seems to me that this is not the time to be leaving.”

He was right. That didn’t mean that it
was
right. Stars, but losing Cheneth at a time when they knew so little about the elementals and the attack that Cheneth feared, it left her with fear gnawing in her belly. She had
seen
what happened with this Tenebeth. She had witnessed the way he had occupied Thenas and had twisted him and given him more power than he should be able to reach. But didn’t they need to know
what
was happening as much as anything?

“Then what do you intend?”

Cheneth’s brow furrowed. “I intend the same as I always have. Continue to learn, to be ready. The next attack
will
come, but I have more confidence now than I have in a very long time that we will be equipped to withstand it. Which is why I need you, Alena. And need you whole.”

Alena listened for the draasin held in the pen in the barracks. The male draasin was there at the edge of her awareness, a presence that wanted to push forward were she to ask, but the female remained distant. How could she engage her? What could she do to convince her to help with the egg?

“I’ll figure this out,” she said.

Cheneth nodded. “I know you will. If you don’t, we will have no choice.”

Alena wondered. With the connection that had formed between her and the egg, would
she
have a choice? If they had to destroy the egg, what would happen to her? She assumed she would survive, but what if destroying the egg only destroyed her as well?

E
ldridge stood
outside the door leading into the great hall in Jornas, the soft sound of voices drifting through the massive oak doors. With a shaping of wind, he drew the voices toward him, listening for the one he needed to hear, but there was no sign of Lachen. Already he had searched throughout Ter, and now he’d come to the claimed cities in Rens, all without success. With what was coming, he needed to find him, if only to learn where his allegiance lay.

Taking a sharp breath, he pushed on the doors, giving a soft shove with a shaping at the same time, letting them swing silently on their hinges. The murmuring sound of voices came louder through the open door but died out as he stood in the doorway.

Two types of men and women sat around the table. There were the armored members of the order, shapers all, wearing their shaped chain mail and shaping-enhanced swords, and then there were the dark-robed men and women sitting at the far end of the table. They were the reason he’d come.

Alistair, forehead creasing as he frowned, waited until Eldridge motioned to him. Dressed in the leathers that were more common in the barracks, the thick jacket buttoned tight over his chest, Eldridge looked nothing like one of the scholars. Nothing like those of the order, either.

Eldridge bowed slightly, keeping his eyes up so he could watch those at the table. In Jornas, he expected more difficulty than he found in other places. Such was the nature of their position at the edge of old Rens. The draasin still attacked the city, but less frequently than they had before. Most blamed Rens. What would they have thought were they to learn that Rens had no more to do with those attacks than the northern isles of Vethansa?

“Master Alistair,” Eldridge said softly, letting his voice carry on a subtle shaping of wind. “I would have a word if you please.”

“Just come in, Eldridge,” Alistair said impatiently. “None of this nattering matters all that much anyway.”

At the mention of his name, the other scholars all looked at him with a different light in their eyes. Damn Alistair for using his name before he had a chance to watch longer. That was one advantage of his dress: none really expected it of a scholar, which gave him the chance to observe as closely as he wanted.

“What is this, Alistair?” one of the women at the end of the table asked sharply. She had short black hair and eyes that were the color of a stormy sky. She had placed her hands on the table in front of her and started to stand when one of the other women whispered softly to her.

She is the one.

Eldridge kept his face serene, not wanting to show any sign that he’d just heard the wind speaking to him, but none of the people in the room would have believed it were he to make such a claim. Once, the people of Rens knew and understood the elementals, but that had been before the war. Now Rens had nothing more than superstition. In that they were no different than Ter.

The woman the wind suggested couldn’t have been any older than sixteen. Perhaps eighteen if he was generous. But she sat at the table, a full member of the order. There were others her age who had managed to reach each of the elements, but it was uncommon.

Are you certain?
This woman—girl, really—had wavy brown hair and eyes so brown, they were like night. He sensed shaping from all around him, though he wasn’t sensitive enough to know
where
it came from, only that wind was shaped.

Watch her, small one.

The comment nearly made him smile.
Small one.
He had the growing suspicion that the elementals had names of their own, but none that they shared. At least not with him. Alena hadn’t claimed to know draasin names, and Jasn was too new to hearing the elementals to ask. And Cheneth… the old man had a different connection to the elementals if what he suspected was true.

As the elemental requested, Eldridge watched her, hoping for some sign of her abilities. It was the reason he had come. At least the scholars here still followed his request to notify them of any strangeness from the order. How else were they to discover others with potential Cheneth sought?

The dark-haired woman’s face flashed with irritation again, and again the girl made a quiet comment to soothe her. Both times, the other listened and sat.

Interesting.

Eldridge reached Alistair and leaned toward him. “You sent word,” he said in the barest whisper. Shaped as it was and carried by the power of the elementals, his voice would reach no farther than Alistair, as if drifting into his ear alone.

Alistair’s frown deepened. “Such was the request, was it not?”

Eldridge nodded.
Request
might be too kind a word, but the scholars didn’t make demands, regardless of their structure. Still, if Alistair wanted to return to Atenas, or even leave his assignment in Jornas, he would need to follow the
request
of the cardinals who led the scholars. “Such was the request,” Eldridge agreed.

Alistair pointed to an empty chair along the table. “You’re welcome to have a seat,” he said more loudly than was necessary. “This meeting, as helpful as it’s been”—irritation dripped from his words—“is nearly over.”

“This is a meeting to discuss Jornas strategy, Scholar Alistair,” the dark-haired woman said. She seemed to have gained control of herself, but her jaw clenched as her gaze drifted from Alistair to Eldridge. “You can’t allow some… some street performer into our council.”

Eldridge glanced down at himself. Street performer? That wasn’t the look he thought he had, but maybe Jornas had changed more than he realized. Places like this, so close to the border of Rens, rarely had merchants come through, let alone performing troupes. Had the pressure with Rens eased more than he had realized?

“You should know that this is Bishop Eldridge,” Alistair said.

At the mention of his formal title within the College of Scholars, shapers of the order studied him with a different interest. The scholars already recognized his name, though he’d met none of them. That didn’t really matter. Not within the college.

A thin, elderly man near the end of the table looked up. He was too old to be of the order, at least those sent here for the fighting. That likely made him the governor. “Bishop?”

Eldridge studied the man. He had bent fingers and wore no mail, unlike the others. He had a plain brown jacket with black embroidery along the cuffs as the only flourish upon it. For a shaper of the order, this man was much older than most assigned to Rens. Something like that meant he had either taken it as punishment or had requested the assignment.

Interesting, and more questions for Alistair when they were alone.

“He looks nothing of the sort. I’ve seen your bishops, Alistair, and they are not men like this. He looks like he could practically be one of the order!” the woman said.

Eldridge smiled. “Alas, I am nothing of the sort,” he said and spread his hands on the table. “A wind shaper only, and likely the only reason that I managed to ascend to bishop in the first place.”

Alistair snorted softly, but Eldridge suspected he was the only one to notice. They had known each other a long time, long enough that Alistair should know when to be quiet.

The girl whispered something more, and even with wind shaping—and his connection to the elementals—Eldridge couldn’t quite make out what it was that she said. She looked upon Eldridge with a considering expression, her dark eyes watching him with a clarity that made him understand what it was the elementals must have seen in her.

“Unless you have other objections, Deidre, may we proceed?” Alistair asked.

She frowned at Eldridge a moment longer before turning her irritation to Alistair. “Fine. Let it be noted that I disagree with allowing another—even a ranking official in your college—to join the discussion.”

“Your objection is noted,” Alistair said. “I am certain your commander will be pleased to hear that you have defended his interests in Jornas as you have.” Turning to the rest of the table, Alistair paused to meet each person, the dramatic flair he’d always shown in Atenas still present. At least he hadn’t lost that as he had lost his hair. “Now. We were discussing the commander’s request to press the attack.”

Eldridge leaned back in the chair as he tried to hide his surprise. The commander had changed the focus to press the attack in Jornas? Had Cheneth known?

Maybe Volth had known. The man was friends with the commander, close enough that he still called him by his name. Few enough risked his irritation or worse by doing so.

Deidre turned her attention to Eldridge again. “We
have
pressed the attack, Alistair. Why do you think there are so few of us at the table?”

Eldridge counted nine around the table, over half of them shapers. How many more would they normally have in such a council?

“Yes. There is no discussion about the request or your response. The discussion has been about what the order has experienced when they press.”

“Seeing as how the border now stretches some ten miles farther south than it once did, I think we’re doing well enough, don’t you? The commander has made it clear that we’re to work with Pa’shu to continue to press south, so that is what we have done. If we go too far south, we run into—”

“Draasin,” Eldridge said. He spoke when he hadn’t intended to. Volth had mentioned what he’d found in the heart of Rens. The draasin and the egg he’d discovered. Could that be the reason the commander wanted them to push? Did he know about the draasin eggs in the heart of Rens? If he did, how did he think to use them, if he found any at all?

“Yes. The draasin,” Deidre said. She leaned forward, her gray eyes narrowing and her lips pressed tightly together. “We haven’t seen an attack in Jornas in nearly three years, but deeper in Rens, where we press…”

Eldridge glanced to Alistair. Most scholars knew little about the elementals, but Alistair was not most scholars. The man had been chosen for this post because of his knowledge and the fact that he wouldn’t fear the threat of draasin attacks. Had he learned anything more?

“And now that the Wrecker has departed Rens, nothing really holds them back.”

He had lost track of the conversation but looked up at the comment. “Volth?”

“You know of him?” Deidre asked.

“There are stories about him,” Eldridge said carefully. “I have a hard time believing any are true.”

“True enough in Rens,” Deidre said. “True enough that those of Rens still fear him. That’s why they don’t send their draasin after us. Or didn’t. Now that he’s gone…”

Eldridge hadn’t thought of the impact Volth’s leaving would have. The stories about the man were almost too impossible to believe, but then, Eldridge had seen the way he’d healed a man who should have been dead. That was the first time he knew Volth shared a connection with the elementals.

He stood, pushing back his chair. Sitting in the Jornas council did nothing for what Cheneth needed from him and nothing for the reason he had come. He nodded to the young girl. “I would speak with you.”

“Bishop,” he heard from Alistair, but Eldridge shook his head, otherwise ignoring him.

Deidre placed a hand on the girl’s arm, but the girl whispered something to her and stood. “I will come with you, Bishop.” She spoke with a soft voice, accented in a way that told him she was not of Ter, at least not as a child.

The inflection to her words made Eldridge take another look at her. Not only was she not of Ter, but the dark skin and her dark eyes suddenly made more sense than they had before.

Rens. The girl was a warrior shaper. From Rens.