Endless Night (7 page)

“That’s not why I summoned Eldridge,” Oliver said. “I’m not sure that I can return to the tower.”

Cheneth leaned in, carrying his stench with him. “You will return, Oliver Bestrun. If the Seat of the Order is compromised, more than you realize is at stake. Darkness threatens, and we must be ready.”

Oliver tensed. Darkness. What did Cheneth know?

“You know of it,” Cheneth said.

Oliver frowned. “I have seen evidence of it,” he said. “Shadows that should not be there. Power that seems to pulse in the back of my mind. I do not know what it means.”

Cheneth finished his ale and set the mug down on the table. “It means, Master Bestrun, that you must remain vigilant. If that power has taken hold within the Seat, we may already be in more danger than we realize.”

Oliver rested his hands on his belly. “I can’t return. I already escaped the Seat once. If they summon me again—”

“You will remain, and if they summon you again, you will avoid the summons. It is as simple as that.”

“I think you mistake my talents for yours.”

“There is no mistake, Master Bestrun. If you escaped once, you are as capable as any to remain here. And you
need
to remain here. You have control of water. There are certain things that you can do to help disguise yourself.”

With a wave of his hand, the old man disappeared. In his place was a young woman, her face reminding him, with her raven hair and full lips, of his long-departed sister. The woman waved her hand and changed again, this time taking on the appearance of Eldridge. Another wave of the hand, and the old man reappeared.

Each time, Oliver had detected the barest whisper of water shaping, but it
was
water that he used.

“You see that you can be more hidden than you realize,” Cheneth said.

“How… how is it that you know these things?”

“I know a great many things, but there are certain things that I do
not
know. That I have not discovered. And that is why you must remain here.”

Oliver sighed. “I can try to do this,” he started, but then thought of the way Cheneth had entered his mind, “but what if they do something that I cannot withstand?”

Cheneth reached across the table and handed him a slender rod. Patterns were etched into the metal that reminded him of what decorated Cheneth’s cane. “This can help you counter spirit. Use a shaping of each element—it does not take much—and you will be able to call on spirit. You can use that to defend against such a shaping.”

Oliver took the rod. His fingers trailed along the edge of it, tracing the patterns. “What is this?”

“There are those who specialize in forging artifacts like this,” Cheneth said. “You may use this if you remain. This can help if spirit is used against you. Carrying it will protect you.”

“You said that I could call on spirit with it.” Even saying that seemed odd. There were no shapers of spirit, were there?

But then, he had never met anyone like Cheneth before.

“You can call spirit, but I caution you to practice before you have need. This might buy you time, but against a skilled shaper… Well, let’s say that even this has its limitations.”

Oliver thought about what was asked of him. Could he really do what Cheneth wanted? Could what Cheneth claimed be real?

But if it was, and if the Seat had been compromised, then Cheneth was right. Much more was in danger than he realized.

“I will stay,” he said softly.

He stared at the metal rod for a moment, and when he looked up, Cheneth was gone.

“
W
hy don’t
we start again?” Cheneth asked.

They stood in a mountainous area, far from where Ciara had been for the past few days, brought there by a shaping Cheneth had worked, traveling leagues in nothing more than the blink of an eye, almost as if traveling on lightning, but no thunder had followed. Nothing but silence.

When the shapers of Ter had attacked in the past, they had always come on lightning with thunder trailing. That was how her people knew they came. And if there were no way to detect them, how would the people of Rens be safe?

“I’ve tried all that I can,” Ciara said. She grabbed a branch and pulled on it, dragging the branch closer so that she could pluck the leaves off it.

“I think you’ve tried all that you are willing to try. There is a difference.”

“Why? What do you think this will do? What do you want me to do?”

Cheneth stopped in front of her. In the days since she had first met him, she had begun to see he was nothing like the thin, elderly man she had first assumed him to be. There was strength behind his eyes and in the way he watched her. In some ways, it intimidated her. In others, knowing that he had such skill and knowing that he had no intent to attack Rens, it made her feel better.

“I want you to remember what it was that you did when you began your…” He frowned as if searching for the right word. “Your dance. Now we are here to see what else you might be able to summon. You have shown earth, draasin, and supposedly nobelas.”

“The lizard? Why do you and Olina both care so much about the lizard?”

Cheneth glanced behind him, eyes narrowed, then he motioned for her to follow as he made his way through the trees and up the slope of the mountain. The earth had a mixture of rock and loose dirt that she slipped over as she made her way behind him. Tall pine trees grew too close together, as if they tried to squeeze out everything else that attempted to grow here. The air was heavy with their aroma, and the dried needles crunched beneath the boots Cheneth had given her, boots so different from the thin-soled leather sandals she had worn throughout Rens.

He stopped near a small stream, one she hadn’t even sensed. What did it say about her water-sensing ability if she couldn’t even detect a full
stream
? When she had been in Rens, this much water would have managed to keep her entire village alive indefinitely, but now she struggled to detect it. All the water around her made it difficult to detect anything with much clarity. She picked up the steady thrumming of Cheneth’s heart and the blood in his veins, and she sensed the way water moved through the trees, drawn up through the ground. The presence of water was so pervasive that it seemed to obscure everything else she attempted to sense.

And then there was the chill on the air. She hadn’t been so attuned to the temperature before going to Tsanth. But the night that Olina had chained her outside the village, leaving her exposed to the darkness and the night, she had become very aware of the currents of heat and cold in the air. Had that come from riding the draasin?

Or was it more?

Olina seemed to think she could control fire, but Ciara doubted she could do anything more than summon the draasin, and that only with the help of her father. Without him, what had she ever
really
done? She had drawn the lizard. That was it. And what was so special about the lizard?

Other than the fact that the lizard had kept her alive. Without it, she would have died on the waste. Without the lizard bringing her the gourds and taking her to a source of water, she wouldn’t have made it more than a few more hours. And then, without the lizard, the shadow man would have claimed her. She had little doubt that she would have succumbed to his seduction.

Cheneth leaned into the water and took a long drink before standing. He wiped his chin, leaving streaks of water glistening in the early-morning light. “What can you tell me about the elementals?”

Ciara glanced at the water, wondering if she should take a drink. Thirst hadn’t been an issue for her in a long time, but the instinctual part of her, that which remained Rens, always seemed to suggest that she drink, even when she knew it didn’t really matter. Why should it, when she’d been offered water whenever she wanted? The people of Cheneth’s camp even used water to cleanse themselves with, not like the dried leaves and sand that Rens used for scrubbing.

“I don’t know that I can tell you anything you don’t already know,” she said to him.

Cheneth smiled. “You might be surprised, nya’shin. You know of the draasin?”

“All know of the draasin. They are the reason Ter attacked Rens.”

“Is that what you think?”

“Ter wants to control the draasin, but they cannot be controlled. They are too powerful for any one person to control.”

“Were that true, then riders of draasin would not have attacked Ter, perpetuating this war. They are not the riders I once knew. Whatever controls the draasin is different.”

“You knew riders?” Ciara knew nothing about the riders, only what she had briefly heard from Olina, but there was more to the riders than Olina had shared. And if what she
had
shared was true, then her father had once been a rider. What had changed for him? Why had he left Tsanth? And when had he gone to Rens?

“The Wise of Hyaln could speak to the draasin. Not the way that Alena does. They had a different connection to the elementals.”

“Why did they leave?”

Cheneth sighed. “Only the wise know the reason. Perhaps it has to do with whatever controls the draasin, forcing them to attack.”

She noted that he didn’t accuse Rens. “Do you think it Tenebeth?”

His eyes narrowed and he looked toward the sky. “When this started, I knew nothing about Tenebeth other than stories told to children. I still don’t know what it means that the stories are real… that the
darkness
is real.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

He shook his head. “It’s not an answer. There is more to Tenebeth than simply the shadows you faced. From what I have learned, something had to release him.” Cheneth took another drink and wiped his sleeve across his mouth.

“Who would release the darkness like that?”

A troubled look crossed his face, but he didn’t answer. Cheneth started up the slope as if to disappear into the trees again.

“You haven’t told me about the lizard. What is the nobelas?”

Cheneth turned slowly, resting one hand on the nearest tree. “I think it is too early for you to learn about the nobelas.”

Ciara stared after him, waiting for him to return, but he didn’t. Running to catch up, she found him far up the slope, much farther than he should have been able to reach without shaping. “The lizard found
me
. I didn’t summon it. It saved me when I was trapped in the waste. Brought me gourds that helped me survive. I would have died otherwise.”

Cheneth didn’t look back at her. “That would fit with nobelas.”

“It stopped me when the shadow man tried to call me. When Tenebeth tried to bring me… somewhere. Had it not been for the lizard, I would have gone with him.”

Cheneth stopped at that. “He tried to lead you away from your home?”

She nodded. “I don’t know where he intended to bring me. But there was greenish light all around, and I could feel the power he promised me. Almost as if I could touch it. But the lizard, nobelas, pushed me back.”

“He promised you power?”

She nodded.

“From what I have learned, you must have power, nya’shin, or he would not have wanted you. All Tenebeth cares about is those with power. He can’t provide it if they don’t already possess it.”

“But I’m not a shaper. I have no power.”

He spun and grabbed her j’na in a single, fast motion. His hands were a blur as he spun it. Then he slammed it against the ground.

Unlike when Ciara used the j’na like that, there was no sharp
crack
, there was nothing like the power she managed to summon. Cheneth eyed the staff as if expecting it to do something more, and when it didn’t he lifted it again, readying to slam it into the ground.

Ciara grabbed it from him. “Your technique is wrong,” she told him. “See what you have to do?” She flicked the spear, and it struck the hard rock of this part of the mountains, loosing such a loud
crack
that it sounded like thunder and reminded her of the warriors appearing on their shaping. She took another step and slammed it into the ground again, this time with another flick of her wrist, leading to another
crack.
Power pulsed as she did, and she could feel the shaping already starting to build. Many more like this, and she would summon… what? The draasin? The lizard? Something else?

What good would it be if she had no control over what she summoned? What good would her ability, whatever this was, be if she never knew what it meant or how to use it?

Ciara paused.

Cheneth stepped forward. “Do not stop.”

“But I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what will come.”

“What comes is what must come. There is intent behind your dance, and the power that you draw with your shaping.”

“This is no shaping.”

“Ah, my dear nya’shin, what else could it be if not a shaping?” He pointed to the spear. “Please. Continue.”

Ciara held the spear and flicked it again.
Crack
. Another flick. This time, the spear bounced, less than the solid crack and more of a
snap
as it struck the stone. She moved her feet, feeling that smaller steps were safer here, and sent the staff into the ground again. And again. And again.

Wind whistled around her, writhing around her arms and her face, pulling at the thick cloak she wore, sliding down her spear.

She looked at Cheneth, who eyed her with an intense interest, watching to see what would happen.

“You must continue,” he said, this time more softly.

“What is it?”

“Don’t you feel it?” he asked. “Don’t you feel what you have done?”

“I feel the wind pulling on me. I feel the way it seemed to try to tear the j’na from my hand. I feel it, but I don’t know what it is or what it is that I do.”

“You are calling the wind,” he said. “And you must continue.”

She kept flicking the spear into the ground. As she went, the force required to do it changed, and she felt as if the wind almost guided her hands, showing her how to place the spear to lessen the impact on the stone. Ciara continued and the wind increased, growing into a powerful torrent. She could almost imagine she saw faces appear in the wind, but then they passed.

Over time, her arm grew tired, and she slowed her steps, letting the j’na settle back to the ground. When she finally stopped, the wind had settled, though she could still feel the way it curled through her hair, along her arms, and slipped around her j’na. There was the sense that if she only reached into the wind that ran along the j’na, she could control it, but that sense faded, leaving her with something like an aching within her.

“What was that?” she asked Cheneth.

“That was a call to the wind. Do you remember what you did?”

Ciara thought about her steps, the dance, as Cheneth had called it.
Could
she replicate it? “I thought I was repeating what I had done before.”

“Before, you summoned the draasin. Do you remember what you did then?”

She thought of the steps. When she had been with Olina, and then with Cheneth in his small building, the pattern she’d used hadn’t been the same as when she had been with her father. Was it because she had been in Rens? Or was there something about the location that mattered?

“I… I don’t know.”

“You have summoned draasin. Nobelas. Golud. And now ara. Each should have a different signature for you. You have only but think about what it was that you did and you should be able to repeat it.”

Did they have a signature as he suggested? There was a different pattern to each, and a different way that she used her j’na when summoning each, wasn’t there? So far, she hadn’t been able to repeat any of the patterns. When she thought she was using the same pattern, it ended up changed, and she ended up with a different summons than the one she expected.

What did it mean that she would be able to summon elementals? It had been strange enough when she had learned she could call to the draasin, and then to the lizard, but to earth and wind as well? What did that mean for her?

Cheneth seemed to understand her concern because he smiled reassuringly. “In the barracks, this place where you have come, we have shapers able to reach the elementals. They can learn to speak to them. That is why we have brought them here, knowing we must train them, protect them so that Tenebeth doesn’t reach them and twist them. But you… you have another gift, one that is unlike any that we have here.”

“What?” she asked, already suspecting the answer.

“We have shapers able to speak to the elementals, but they can only reach one. Alena speaks to fire. Eldridge to the wind. Wyath to earth. Volth to water. There are others with potential, but they have not shown the extent of that potential yet. In time, that will change. That must change, or we will lose.”

Volth. That was the powerful water shaper she’d seen. He had strength to him, but anger as well. He was a powerful man, and if she were honest with herself, was alluring as well.

“Is that what you think I will be?” she asked.

Cheneth met her eyes. The bright intensity that shone back nearly made her step away. She set her j’na to the ground, but there was no power to it this time. “You are more than nya’shin,” he said. “You may be more than ala’shin. That is something we will need in the days to come.”

“I don’t understand.”

Cheneth shook his head. “No. But you will. You must, nya’shin, so you will.”