Serpent of Fire (9 page)

T
an regarded the woman, trying to think of what he should do with her. In the darkness of the night, with barely any moonlight and the wind still carrying the tang of blood from the fallen Par-shon, Tan didn’t have the stomach for any more killing.

He took a deep breath. In the time since the attack ended, some of his strength had returned. With a wave of his hand, he lowered the fire cage. Cianna gave him a sharp look but said nothing. Tan stepped across the fire barrier surrounding her and knelt next to the woman, forcing her to meet his eyes.

“How many traps did you place?”

She tried to look away from him, but he held her head in place with a shaping of wind.

“How many?” he snapped.

She stared at him defiantly. “You will not find them all.” She actually managed to smile. “And once the Utu Tonah learns how rich this land is, he will send more. There is much to harvest here.”

Harvest. The way she said the word sent chills up Tan’s spine. “You think to
harvest
elementals for your own purpose? Were you to take the chance, you might learn from them, might find a way to work
with
them, rather than forcing them to work for you.”

She stared at him blankly. “You think this is his only plan? This is but a beginning. You have seen his power. I see it in your face when I exalt his name. You know that you will not be able to stop him. He knows what these lands can offer, and he will come with more strength than you can hope to contain. Your shapers,” she spoke the word with disdain, “will be able to do nothing against the elemental might.”

Tan glanced toward the draasin, perched in a tree. He sensed Asboel watching him, studying him. “You might be surprised at how connected we are to the elementals,” he said softly. He spoke with an angry heat, the words coming out almost ragged. “Now, I will ask again. How many traps have you placed?”

The woman fixed him with a level gaze. She did not blink, did not appear intimidated or afraid of the fact that two massive draasin sat barely twenty feet from her, or that a warrior shaper stood in front of her, one who had very nearly stopped seven bound Par-shon shapers by himself. Tan realized that he would not get anything useful from her.

Using spirit, he reached into her mind. Had he not watched Amia and the First Mother working together, he would not have known where to begin. Even with that, he still didn’t sense with anything close to the skill that Amia managed, but he didn’t need skill. Only knowledge.

Touching her mind like this gave him glimpses of her place within Par-shon. She was a Rune Master, the one to place the runes on the traps, an exalted position. When she had been selected to come across the sea, she had taken the trip willingly, almost eagerly. She had claimed bonds in Doma and Incendin, and she was the one who had claimed earth from Ferran.

There was more, but Tan couldn’t reach it. It was as if she hid something from him, expecting his connection to spirit.

Tan reached deeper, needing to understand. He found evidence of the traps, the way they were placed around Ethea, ringing the city. But there were more than that. Dozens were scattered around the kingdoms. Tan took that knowledge from her. He would need it to remove them.

He tried reaching for more, but whatever secrets she buried remained hidden to him.

He released her mind and the Rune Master gasped.

“You should not—”

“No,” Tan snapped. “You should not have come to the kingdoms. Everything you do goes against the will of the Great Mother.”

The woman snorted. “You think the Great Mother cares how we use her resources? The Utu Tonah is closer to the Great Mother than any other.
He
knows that what we do has meaning. You will see. No matter what you choose to do to me, you will soon learn the might of Par-shon. These lands will suffer for fighting what must happen. This is only the beginning,” she said again.

The woman disgusted him. The joyous way that she trapped elementals disgusted him.

But he didn’t know what to do with her. He couldn’t kill her, not when she was like this, and he didn’t dare bring her into Ethea for questioning. That left him with few options.

“Forgive me,” he whispered.

He shaped spirit, layering it atop her mind. Tan hated that he must do this, knowing it was the reason that spirit shapers had gained the reputation that they did, but he refused to kill her when she was no longer a threat.

Through his bond with Amia, he sensed her dismay at what he attempted, but there was understanding as well.

Like this
, she said, guiding him through the shaping.

The shaping draped over the woman’s mind but then layered through it, clinging to it, Amia’s presence ensuring that the woman would not be able to free herself. What they did changed this woman. He made it so that she would not bind another elemental, that she would forget what she had seen in the kingdoms, even that she would forget the shaping.

Amia guided him to release the shaping, but with one additional flourish, Tan placed the suggestion within the woman that she help the elementals.

As he prepared to release the shaping, the woman pulled a long-bladed knife out from behind her. Tan scrambled for it, but was too slow. She plunged it into her chest.

Tan wrested the knife from her hands. She shouldn’t have been able to harm herself. She shouldn’t have
wanted
to harm herself, not with the shaping that he’d placed onto her.

Using a shaping of water augmented by the nymid, he attempted healing, but he was weakened, drained from the attack.

Can you help?
he asked the nymid.

There was a response, but it was faint and difficult for him to hear. Blood continued to pool around the woman, and her lifeless eyes stared at him with an almost victorious expression burning behind them.

Tan dropped the knife and sunk to the ground. The ground shuddered briefly, as if golud was released, and then fell still. Elementals all around him went silent, as if ashamed of what he’d done.

Cianna touched his shoulder and lowered herself to crouch next to him. “It is for the best. She did the honorable thing.”

“Honorable?” Tan asked. “None of this is honorable. If they thought to be honorable, they would not have forced the bonds on the elementals. They would not treat them as if they were nothing more than horses to be saddled.”

Cianna touched his arm. Her hand radiated heat and she let it simply sit, not trying to caress or anything else with seductive undertones like she so often would attempt. “And how did you feel about the elementals before you could speak to them?” she asked.

Tan opened his mouth a moment and then clamped it shut. Before speaking to them, he hadn’t given them much thought. There had never been a reason for him to spend time thinking about the elementals. Always before, they were something mysterious, hidden, but had he not also considered them a part of the natural world?

“I would not have wanted them forced to bond like this.”

She smiled at him, as if he was too stupid to see her point. “Have you ever had a dog?”

Tan frowned. “What does that have to do with this?”

Cianna shrugged. “Humor me. Have you had a dog? Maybe a cat?”

Tan watched her, wondering what she might be getting at. “We had a dog when I was growing up. Doshan. My father found him when hunting and brought him to our home. Mother wanted him to get rid of him. She said he was more wolf than dog.” Tan smiled at the memory, some of the anger he’d been feeling defusing. “With as big as he got, she was probably right. But he was a good dog and became well trained.”

“Could you speak to your dog?”

“Listen, Cianna. It’s not the same. You know that the way Par-shon views the elementals is dangerous. They think to use them, to use their power and ability—”

“Likely no differently than your father thought to use your dog’s nose for hunting or tracking. You might have treated him well, but you used him just the same.”

Tan stared at the darkness around him. He sensed Asboel’s interest in the conversation and recognized that he had been listening.
I don’t think of you as a dog,
Tan told him.

Behind him, the draasin snorted softly.
You ride me like a horse.

Tan sensed amusement within Asboel and sighed. After a moment, he stood, glancing around the clearing. He stepped past the fallen Par-shon woman, his gaze trailing across the ground.

“What is it?” Cianna asked.

“There was a spirit shaper here,” Tan said.

“Are you certain?”

“I thought that I sensed spirit when I first arrived. Everything was chaotic, so I couldn’t tell where it was coming from.” He still wasn’t sure if he actually
had
sensed spirit or if it was something else. Maybe he’d been mistaken about that, the same way he’d been mistaken in thinking that he could shape spirit over the Par-shon woman. He hadn’t expected her to kill herself. Maybe there wasn’t anything he could have done to prevent it, but he would have tried.

He made his way around the clearing. The rocks were darkened, some stained with blood from the shapers who had fallen. There wasn’t much left of the attackers, especially once the draasin got involved.

What did it mean that there might have been spirit shapers among the Par-shon? Even if there was a single spirit shaper, that would be enough to present a challenge for the kingdoms. If Par-shon learned how to bind the elements together to forge spirit, it was possible that they would become even more powerful than they already were.

And he couldn’t shake the words she had said.
This is but a beginning.
A beginning to what? What did it mean for the kingdoms?

They needed to remove the remaining traps, and then they had to determine if the Utu Tonah had anything more planned. Only, Tan wasn’t entirely certain
how
.

He stopped at the Par-shon woman and stared down at her body. His shaping had given him parts of her knowledge and experience. Maybe he could use that to understand a way to deactivate the traps without needing to risk the kingdoms’ shapers again.

And he still had to help Asboel find the missing hatchling. What if they had taken her across the sea? What if she was in Par-shon?

The hatchling cannot cross the sea on her own,
Asboel said.

Are you certain?

She is not strong enough yet to separate from fire for such a journey.

I don’t understand.

Because you are not of fire. Making a crossing over the sea like that requires the draasin to store fire. The hatchlings are not ready.

Will Par-shon know that?
He sensed Asboel’s hesitation.
Asboel?

The others within the fire bond would know. Saa
, he said the name of the fire elemental with lingering irritation,
would understand.

At least there was hope that the draasin remained, that Par-shon hadn’t dragged her across the sea. There was still hope of finding her.

Why can’t we reach her through the fire bond?
Tan asked. When Asboel didn’t answer, he pressed.
Asboel?

I… I do not know.

That might be the most troubling thing of all.

Tan tore his gaze away from the dead Par-shon woman and stepped away, turning to Cianna. “Come. We can go now.”

Cianna nodded toward the Par-shon woman. “What of her?”

“She can stay here.”

“Tan—you should give her a proper burial.”

Tan glanced back at her. “Proper? And what would a burial of Par-shon look like?”

Cianna frowned at him. “Does it matter? She deserves to be returned to the earth.”

Tan sighed heavily. Then he reached toward the earth with a shaping, asking it to swallow the Par-shon woman. With a steady rumble, it was done, leaving Tan weakened again. He continued toward Asboel.

“They will know what happened when their shapers don’t return,” Cianna said as they neared the draasin.

Asboel eyed him, raising his head and blinking at Tan slowly.
We can hunt.

No. You must find the hatchling. This is my task.

You think you must hunt alone?

Tan sighed.
Not alone, but there is much that needs doing. You and Sashari must continue your search. If you need me, you will summon.

Asboel breathed out heavily.
You would command the draasin?

There was a vague sense of amusement to the question.

Only if you’re too slow to find her.

Asboel roared against the night. The sound echoed against the rocks.
A challenge, Maelen?

Tan smiled sadly and touched the draasin’s side. If only there were times for games. Heat bloomed from Asboel, creating a soft cloud of mist around him.

There will be many challenges ahead
, Tan told him
. I only hope that we are both strong enough to face them.

As I’ve told you before, Maelen, you will never hunt alone.

T
he next day came sooner than Tan would have liked. He had awoken groggy and still weakened from the attack the night before—and powered by a purpose: He needed to find the traps scattered throughout the kingdoms and remove them.

Tan found Ferran in the halls of the palace, again escorting the group of children. He glanced at Tan and nodded. Tan hadn’t seen him since they had removed the trap and still didn’t know whether Ferran had found his bond again.

“Are you…?” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the question.

Ferran tipped his head toward Tan. “The bond has returned. It is different, I think, but there.” He shuffled the children into a room along the hall.

Tan caught a glimpse of what was behind the door. Three others were inside, and he recognized only one, a wind shaper named Alan. The university might have been destroyed, but that didn’t mean there weren’t teachers willing to guide potential shapers.

“Different in what way?” he asked Ferran.

Ferran pulled the door closed and rested his hand on the handle. “The golud have a…” He paused, his brow furrowing as if he struggled to find the right word. “A fervor that was not there before. They would see me searching for more of these devices.”

“I will find them,” Tan said.

Ferran arched a brow. “You don’t need to search on your own. There are others able—and willing—to help you, Athan. What if there are others of Par-shon hiding?”

Tan didn’t want to tell him that he had learned where some of the traps would be hidden, or how he had gotten the information. A part of him was embarrassed about shaping the Par-shon Rune Master to acquire the knowledge. He recognized the need, and his anger had driven the desire, but having a night to sleep had calmed him and given him a different perspective.

Now that he’d had a chance to think, the idea of using shapers not bound to the elementals made sense. They would be able to recover the traps without risking the same as him. “Thank you, Ferran.”

The earth shaper reached over and settled a broad hand onto Tan’s shoulder. “You are strong, but you don’t have to work alone. There are others who can help, who
want
to help. You have not been a shaper long, but others of us have faced this, and worse. We understand what is at stake.”

Ferran watched him a moment and then returned to his duties with the children, leaving Tan, feeling troubled, staring at the spot the master had occupied. If even Ferran—a shaper able to speak to the elementals—didn’t fully understand that Par-shon was worse than Incendin, then how would other shapers?

“You summoned last night.”

He turned and saw Roine watching him. Today, he wore a long navy cloak pinned at the neck. It seemed that each time Tan saw him, he dressed more regally. Would there come a time when Roine would
not
want
to give up his place as king regent? They had found potential heirs, but there was no way of knowing which should rule. For now, that responsibility fell to Roine.

“Par-shon shapers were in the kingdoms,” Tan said.

Anger flared across Roine’s face. He guided Tan down the hall without another word, turning into a servants’ corridor before shaping opening a door that led to a plain room. Tan took it in: a circular table pushed almost to one wall, a pitcher of water resting atop it; three slatted wooden chairs forming a circle around the table; an ornate tapestry hanging from the wall was the only evidence of finery in the room.

Roine pulled out one of the chairs and plopped into it, his clothing making him look suddenly out of place.

Tan noted a stack of papers piled on the floor under the table. Several books angled against the wall. A shapers lantern was also hidden, though Roine shaped a weak light into it.

Tan closed the door behind him and took a seat. “What is this?”

“This,” Roine started, surveying the room, “is where I come when I need to have time for myself. There aren’t many who know that it’s here. And now you do.”

“Why have you brought me here?”

Roine leaned on his elbows. “I need to know what happened last night. Why did you summon?”

Tan told him about the summons from golud and the way that he and Ferran had found one of the traps. “It was my mistake. I knew it wasn’t safe for me to attempt the shaping, and Ferran pressed me. I should have known better than to let him try.”

Roine shook his head. “Your mistake wasn’t letting Ferran attempt the shaping. Your mistake was thinking that you had to do this alone.” The comment echoed what Ferran had just said, enough that left Tan wondering if they’d spoken about it.

“There wouldn’t have been time to summon earlier.” Roine gave him an arched brow. “Well, I had forgotten the summoning rune. Roine, I did what I could. I asked ara to get word to my mother—”

Roine started to smile, catching Tan off guard. “Yes, ara got word to Zephra. But you neglect to remember that you had a way to summon me directly.”

“I said I forgot the rune coin.”

Roine chuckled and reached across the table to tap on the ring Tan wore. “Part of this gives you a way to summon me. It also allows you to speak on my behalf. Sign peace agreements. Many other affairs of state.” He waved his hand as if most of that was meaningless. “I used the mark of Athan to travel freely and unencumbered. There were instances when it was helpful, such as the time when I first came to your village.” His smile widened. “Mostly it’s a marker of office, but that’s not all that it is. I made certain to give you a way to reach me, too. I probably should have told you that sooner.”

Tan stared down at the ring, twisting it on his finger. It fit well and was marked with the rune that represented each of the elements. “Had I known…”

“You would have summoned sooner. Yes. And then? Perhaps it is best that you didn’t. Otherwise, you might not have gone after the Par-shon shapers and you might not have learned what you did about the traps.”

“I nearly failed, Roine. I nearly died.”

Roine studied him a moment. “Tannen,” he started, saying his name with genuine warmth, “there have been probably a dozen times since we’ve met that you
could
have died. What is important is that you didn’t. You might have allowed emotion to guide your actions rather than thinking it through, but had you taken the time, you might have talked yourself out of what needed to be done. It was much the same for me when I was Athan. I think of what I accomplished simply because I acted. Imagine what would have happened had Par-shon managed to bond the elementals near Ethea.”

He’d already considered what would have happened and how much might have been lost. “I need to find the rest of the traps. They can’t remain here. If the Utu Tonah uses them…”

“Yes. They need to be brought back to Ethea.”

“They need to be destroyed,” Tan said.

“Not destroyed. Studied. We must understand what it is that Par-shon does. If we can understand them, then we can find the key to stopping them.”

“I won’t risk someone having access to the traps,” Tan said, thinking of how the kingdoms’ shapers had once harnessed the elementals. “If someone thinks to use them—”

“You can store them in the lower level of the archives. That way, you’re the only one able to reach them.”

Tan fidgeted with the ring. The idea of having the elemental traps so close worried him. There were those like Seanan who wanted the bond, thinking that Tan could simply force it. There might be others like him, or possibly worse, who would do anything in the name of keeping the kingdoms safe.

Tan studied Roine, wondering what
he
might be able to do. Would he think to use the traps, thinking he was helping the kingdoms? Roine had already shown how far he would go to protect the kingdoms. How could he not use every advantage to save them?

Tan couldn’t help but think the ancient shapers must have started the same way. What must they have faced that would have convinced them that harnessing the elementals should be considered? There were shapers then who bonded to the elementals naturally, allowing the elemental and the shaper to choose whether to join in the connection. What had changed?

Roine waited on him for an answer. “I will bring them to the archives,” Tan said. “Please, Roine. Leave them there. Don’t be tempted to use them.”

Roine waved his hand dismissively. “Our shapers will be enough,” he said. “I know that you intended to go to Incendin—”

That had been Tan’s plan, but he couldn’t do that, not until after he kept Par-shon from trapping elementals. “Not until I find the traps.”

“Good. After you secure them, there is something else I would ask of you. It has to do with Incendin. I know you think we need to work with them, but you should know that while Zephra worked to solidify the barrier, she has seen movement near Nara. If they attack—”

“They aren’t going to attack. They have enough to fear with Par-shon active.”

Roine leaned back and rubbed a hand over his chin. “
If
they attack,” he started again, “we need to know what we might face. Zephra can only do so much in Incendin, and repairing the barrier is taking time, more time than I’d like. If only Lacertin still lived. The barrier had been his idea, and he had been responsible for the first shaping to bring it into place.”

“The barrier was never designed to keep shapers out, though. It held back the lisincend and the hounds.”

“The barrier restricted anything with elemental power from crossing,” Roine said. “Including shapers.”

“How did Lacertin cross?” Tan asked.

He tapped his hands on the top of the table and let out a frustrated sigh. “I still don’t know.”

Tan frowned. It wasn’t just Lacertin, but the Aeta had crossed as well. Had they not been able to do so, Amia would have been stuck on the other side in Incendin. Now, with Lacertin gone, they would never know. Amia hadn’t known there was a reason they shouldn’t have been able to cross, so she wouldn’t have any answer either.

“So you want me to scout Incendin rather than travel to the Fire Fortress.”

“Can’t you do both? You could bring Cianna. She knows the lands well.”

“Roine, Incendin isn’t our threat—”

Roine sat up, his back stiffening. “Then prove it. Find out why they have been moving along the border. Explain it in a way the proves they mean no harm.”

“And Par-shon? Who will make sure that Par-shon doesn’t attack again?”

“I’m certain that you’ll know if there is another attack. The elementals warned us last night, didn’t they?”

“It won’t work quite like that. Golud helped because Par-shon attempted to force a bond. There are other elementals Par-shon can use. And they can hide themselves. We saw that in Doma.”

“Zephra will know if ara is impacted. Ferran has bonded earth. I believe that you share a connection to the nymid as well as the draasin? That means we’re covered.”

Tan shook his head. “That’s only the beginning. There are countless elementals, especially here in Ethea. Think of all the elementals that are found here that aren’t found in other places. Elementals like saa and ashi and wyln and—”

“Those are all lesser elementals.”

Tan resisted the urge to make a comment. Despite how frequently they had had this conversation, Roine still seemed to believe that there were lesser and greater elementals. From what Tan had learned, the elementals had no such distinction. Some were greater in one land than another, even though all were found around Ethea. The draasin were different, though even Asboel couldn’t really tell him why that would be. Roine needed to understand.

“Focus on fire,” Tan said.

Roine frowned. “Tan, now is not the time—”

“Now
must
be the time,” he said. “You are king here, and you need to understand what you rule. I don’t think even Althem really understood. If he had, he might not have underestimated the strength of the elementals.”

Roine grinned at him. “Now you think to give me lessons on how to rule? Maybe your mother is right. You’re becoming a little
too
much like me.”

“Roine—”

“Fine. I’ll focus on fire. You know that it’s the element I’m weakest in.”

“And you know it’s the element I’m strongest in. So we will balance each other out.”

Roine snorted. “What will I be sensing?”

“I’ll show you,” Tan said.

With a quick surge of shaping, Tan created a simple ball of flame. It hovered in his hand, creating a bright glow. Tan fed it with his own shaping, making it burn hotter and brighter. As he did, saa was drawn to it as usual, and he encouraged the elemental toward the shaping, allowing it to assume control. Tan lowered his hand and the shaping remained in place.

He reached inwardly for the fire bond and felt its pull. Through it, he could feel the way saa reached from him to the flame. Even the distant sense of Sashari and Asgar pulled on the fire bond. They were the brightest draws, but not the only ones. Heat in the stones pulled on the bond, the heat of his body and Roine’s, even within the chair he sat upon. Everything had elements of fire, though not all burned with intensity.

“That’s an impressive shaping, I’ll grant you that,” Roine said.

Tan reached toward the flame, running his hand through it. Saa, like the fire of the draasin, didn’t burn him. “Can you sense the fire within the shaping?” he asked.

Roine laughed. “I can
see
the fire burning within your shaping. Is that not enough?”

“No. Focus on it. Sense the flame. Notice what is there.”

Tan sat back and waited. Roine’s face contorted slightly as he concentrated, and then he shook his head. “I don’t sense anything.”

Maybe that was the best answer Tan could hope for. “Do you sense me shaping?” Roine shook his head. “
Did
you sense me shaping?”

“I felt the pull of fire, Tan, but as I said, fire is weakest for me. This demonstration might have worked for Lacertin—he was strong in fire—but it’s lost on me. Maybe you should be showing this to Cianna or Seanan.”

“Cianna has no need, and I’ve already shown Seanan.” Tan still didn’t know what would come of Seanan, and whether he would continue to demand a bond. In time, if he worked at it, maybe Seanan could earn a bond, but there was nothing that would force it. “And I don’t think it’s lost on you. You felt the beginning of my shaping, but now nothing. That’s what you should have felt.”