Fortress Of Fire (Book 4)

by D. K. Holmberg

  Someday, Tan would have to learn more about his mother. It seemed more and more he learned, the less he really knew.

  “She’s here?” Vel asked.

  “She shouldn’t be, but she’s here.”

  Vel looked toward the street. A shaping of water built from him, almost as if he tried to reach for Zephra. “You will try to help her?”

  “I have to,” Tan said.

  Vel studied Tan a moment, sweeping his eyes over him. Then he nodded. “I will come.”

  Tan opened his mouth to object, but another shaper might be useful. “If wind will take you away from here, can you watch these two? See if you can help them?” he asked Amia

  Amia glanced at the other two shapers. Neither had spoken. Neither had really even moved since they reached Amia. Her shaping built with a pop and then eased. “I… I don’t know that I can keep them safe.” Not without shaping, she didn’t have to say.

  “You did what you had to,” Tan said.

  “Did I? Wouldn’t the First Mother have said the same?”

  Tan held her in his arms for a long moment, stroking her hair. If something happened to him, he wanted this last moment with her. Even more than facing Incendin, he feared the Par-shon shapers. They were powerful in a way even the lisincend couldn’t match. “Then watch over them. Keep them as safe as you can for me.”

  Amia took a shuddering breath. “There might be little I can do.”

  “I have to—” Tan started.

  Amia silenced him with a kiss. “I know what you have to do. There isn’t anyone else able to do it.”

  Tan hesitated, looking at her and feeling the knot form in his throat. Putting her at risk was his fault. “I shouldn’t have brought you here. Had I not come, you would’ve been safe.”

  “You’re only doing what Theondar asked.”

  “But he wanted allies. Instead, we’ve found a new threat. I’ve exposed the kingdoms to a new threat.” And because of the draasin—because of his connection to the draasin—Incendin had been weakened, giving Par-shon the opportunity to attack.

  “Had you not come, we would never have known what we face.” She turned to the door. “The wind elemental has done well so far. Without him, the others may have ignored my shaping and claimed me. He helped hide me.”

  Tan wondered if Honl was still with him. He couldn’t see the elemental but felt his presence in his mind. If he didn’t ask Honl to attack, would the elemental help? Honl. Can you do this?

  The wind elemental swirled around him, fluttering at his clothes. You wish them to reach safety?

  There was a sense of eagerness as he spoke of safety. The wind elemental was so different than the draasin. Where Asboel wanted nothing more than to attack, Honl sought to avoid conflict. Would he be able to count on Honl if needed?

  I wish them away from the city. I will join you when I can.

  They will be safe, Tan.

  Tan hugged Amia one more time, wishing there was the time to tell her his feelings, for her to understand everything that she meant to him. Every moment of delay was a moment someone else he cared about suffered.

  I feel the same, Amia sent.

  Tan smiled and opened the door, pulling the woman and the other man along with him. Amia touched his cheek and then wind lifted her and the two into the air. They streaked up and away from the city. Tan watched until they were little more than specks in the sky.

  “You’re certain they will be safe?” Vel asked.

  Tan tore his eyes away and turned toward the obsidian tower. Would they have to go there to reach his mother? “As safe as they can be.”

  “You’re bound to a wind elemental? Like Zephra?”

  Tan shook his head, surprised that Vel would know about the elemental. Tan didn’t think Roine had even known. “Not like Zephra. She’s bound to ara.”

  Vel turned toward the sky. “That was not ara?”

  “Ashi.”

  Vel tensed. “But you are from the kingdoms, no?”

  “I am. Why do you ask?”

  “Why would you be bound to an Incendin wind elemental?”

  Incendin? Could that be true? If so, why would Honl not have told him?

  It made a certain sort of sense. The elemental was drawn to warm air, drawn to Asboel, but was there something more to it that Tan didn’t know? Could that be where his fear came from?

  “Because I’m also bound to fire,” Tan answered.

  He pulled on saa, letting the elemental fill him. Here in Par-shon, it was easy to use saa. There was something about this place that allowed the connection to strengthen, much like there was a reason Tan had bonded to Asboel when he had. Could it be the reason he spoke so easily to the nymid in the lake near the place of convergence?

  What if that were the key to reaching the elementals? All he needed was to find where they were strongest. He suspect ilaz was the strongest wind elemental here, but Honl still had some strength. And what of the draasin? Tan couldn’t imagine Asboel being weak anywhere.

  “You are formidable, warrior, but the Utu Tonah has bonded dozens of elementals. You cannot hope to defeat him by yourself.”

  “But I’m not by myself,” Tan told him. Vel tipped his head, waiting. “You’ll be with me.”

  Vel smiled, again showing his ragged row of teeth. One hand twisted absently at his beard, twirling it between gnarled fingers. “For Zephra?” he asked.

  Tan nodded. “Then away from here, back to the kingdoms.”

  Now that Honl was gone, he wasn’t certain that he’d be able to get them away easily, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try.

  * * *

  They made their way around the outside of the obsidian fortress. The shape and color were so much like what he saw from a distance of the Fire Fortress. The entire place seemed designed to repel power.

  How long had Par-shon and Incendin battled? As long as Incendin and the kingdoms? Longer? The threat of Incendin would explain why Par-shon sought power, but not why they wielded it as they did. Had the kingdoms ever known about Par-shon? If they had, how had the kingdoms been spared from attack?

  Maybe he had it backward. Had the threat of Par-shon been why Incendin chased power?

  “What does it do?” Tan asked, nodding toward the fortress.

  “You’ve felt what it does,” Vel said. “He uses power to maintain power. There are none with the strength to oppose him who can enter. It’s why he has remained in control so long.”

  “They steal the bonds from those they capture?”

  “Some bonds are stolen. Others they force. Not many bonded any longer. The elementals choose safety.”

  “They elementals choose this?”

  “Not the bond,” Vel said. “They avoid shapers. Bonding shapers places them at risk. When I bonded Ul… the udilm,” he said, catching himself as Tan often did when speaking of Asboel, “she knew the risk.”

  Maybe that was the reason the kingdoms had not faced the threat from Par-shon. There were no longer any bonded shapers. “Why bond at all, then?”

  “There are benefits to the elemental. Surely your elementals have shared that with you.”

  Tan continued to stare up at the tower. “I’ve not bonded the wind for long. And the draasin does not share anything.”

  Vel nearly tripped and grabbed Tan’s arm. “You have bonded to one of the draasin?”

  Tan nodded.

  “But they have been gone from this world for centuries.”

  “Not any longer,” he answered, thankful he hadn’t asked Asboel to bring him to Par-shon. What would have happened had the draasin carried him across the water? The bonded shapers had nearly broken their bond while in Incendin. Had Asboel come here, there would have been nothing Tan could have done. “They’re free.”

  “You managed to find one young enough to bond?”

  “Not young. Old enough to bond,” he said. Tan didn’t know quite how old Enya was, but her youth made it unlikely that she would bond. Even Asboel resisted the bond,
claiming the Great Mother wanted it, though he didn’t seem to know the reason why she would. “I think age grants the draasin a certain wisdom.”

  “That is not—” Vel cut himself off and looked up at the obsidian fortress. “Does he know?”

  “I don’t know. He tested me. When I lived, I think he intended to steal those bonded to me. He knows of the draasin. It’s the prize he seeks.”

  Vel’s eyes widened. “If he gains a bond to one of the draasin, he will have greater elemental power for each. Dangerous. So very dangerous. Then only Incendin opposes him. They have held Par-shon back for centuries, but with strength like that…”

  Vel twisted along the street, grabbing at his head and pulling at his beard. His eyes twitched as he flickered his gaze around the street, widening each time he glanced up at the fortress.

  “What do you mean only Incendin opposes him?” Tan asked.

  The Doman stopped and turned to Tan. “You don’t know?” He shook his head and madness flashed through his eyes. “Of course he doesn’t know. None understood. That was Incendin’s fault. They are too arrogant. Had they only asked for help, maybe all would be different. Arrogant and foolish. Now they can’t request help. They have to force it.”

  “What are you saying about Incendin and Par-shon?”

  “Why do you think they have embraced fire as they have? They could not learn to bind elementals, not as the Utu Tonah did, but they can master fire, force it in ways even the elementals will not go.”

  “Twisted Fire,” Tan said.

  The madness cleared and Vel looked at Tan with a pained expression. “Twisted, yes. That is what the udilm claim. I thought that as well. Always agreed with udilm. But they did not see what I have seen. They have not experienced severing the connection. Only she did.” Vel tugged on his beard, his eyes drifting up toward the top of the fortress. “Now, perhaps I understand. Twisted, yes. But needed.”

  Tan couldn’t believe what Vel claimed. Could Incendin—could the lisincend—actually have been created in an attempt to keep Incendin safe? Tan had assumed they wanted power, that they wanted to destroy the kingdoms, but what if all of that had been wrong?

  It would explain why they had taken shapers from Doma and why those shapers had never truly attacked the kingdoms, even now that the barrier had fallen. They were taken not to attack the kingdoms, but to keep Incendin safe.

  Was that what the twisted lisincend had meant when he claimed that freeing the lisincend placed the kingdoms in greater danger? Was that why Tan had failed when he tried to restore him?

  What did it mean that Asboel and the draasin had attacked the lisincend? Could they have inadvertently weakened Incendin to the point where Par-shon could attack?

  Even if true, it didn’t make what Incendin had done any better, but there was a certain sort of sick sense to it. What would the kingdoms have done to keep themselves safe?

  Tan knew the answer. The ancient warriors had provided it. They would trap elementals in a place of convergence. They would force them to power an artifact that could draw more power than any shaper was meant to control. That was what the kingdoms’ shapers had done. Wasn’t that just as twisted as what Incendin had done?

  “Where is Zephra?” Vel asked, dancing around the outside of the tower. “Come out, come out!” he called in a sing-song voice.

  “Quiet,” Tan hissed.

  But the Doman was right. They needed to find his mother. That might even be the easiest part. Rescuing her would be the real challenge, especially if the Utu Tonah had taken her. There was one way he could find her, only he wasn’t certain it would work: the summoning rune coin.

  Tan pulled it from his pocket and held it in his hand, flipping it between his fingers. With Zephra, wind would summon, but he needed something more than wind, especially if he needed to penetrate the barriers of the fortress. Tan mixed spirit with a shaping of wind drawn through Honl and shaped it into the coin.

  The rune on the coin glowed softly. Tan focused on it, wondering if it would let him trace her location, fearing that she might be in the fortress. If his mother was there, he might not have enough shaping strength to reach her. Even with Vel, the two of them wouldn’t be enough to keep them safe when dealing with the Utu Tonah.

  The rune on the coin pulled on him, but away from the fortress, leading him away from the city in the opposite direction from Amia’s route.

  There was a risk that the coin had been dropped. That by following the rune, he wouldn’t find anything and would instead lose time that he might need. But Tan had no other way of knowing where to look.

  Vel stood on his toes and peered into Tan’s hand. His face flattened and he tugged at his beard again. “That is Zephra’s mark,” he said.

  Tan studied the water shaper for a moment. “How do you know Zephra?”

  Vel smiled, flashing his yellowed teeth. “Does anyone really know Zephra?” he asked.

  Tan cocked his head, trying and failing to think of an answer.

  Leaving the city presented a different type of challenge. Without Honl, Tan wasn’t sure he had enough strength to take to the air. There was one way he might be able to do it, but he hadn’t watched Roine travel enough to know if he could. The warrior had warned of the dangers to him if done wrong, but there was no other choice.

  Fire and wind. Water to stabilize. Earth for strength.

  Tan shaped the first two easily. Water came more slowly, but he found the stability needed to hold the shaping. Then earth. He grabbed Vel and pulled the shaping to him as Roine had instructed.

  All the practice working with the other elementals gave him the necessary strength. At the last moment, Tan pulled a mix of spirit into it. Blinding white light struck and they were lifted into the air.

  For the first time, he truly felt like a cloud warrior.

  Tan didn’t know what he had expected. Pain. Fire. Something. Not this.

  They were standing in the open near the base of the fortress when the bolt of lightning struck, then he was soaring in the sky. There was no wind, barely a sense of movement. He focused on the rune, letting it draw him. And then they were there, landing with a split of lightning, just as bright as the first.

  Tan had been brought to a wooded area, the trees newly singed by the lightning Tan had traveled on. His earth senses told him that a stream ran nearby and the air smelled of mold and dirt mixed with the bitter taste he’d smelled when Roine had traveled by storm before.

  Vel eased away from him, stumbling toward a tree and clinging to it for support as he took in their surroundings. He built a shaping, as if he expected an attack to come at any moment.

  “Where is she?” Vel whispered.

  Tan stretched out with his earth sensing. The rune had brought him here. That meant his mother was here—or at least the summoning coin was. “I don’t know.”

  The coin pulled on him and he turned, following it.

  Tan didn’t really need the coin to guide him. Touching base with his earth sensing allowed him to practically feel the person lying on the ground.

  A moan drifted through the trees.

  Tan ran toward the sound, instinctively avoiding loose branches strewn across the ground and roots that tried tangling his feet. The earth was soft and spongy, but the faster Tan ran, the more it seemed to firm up beneath him.

  He saw her lying near the base of a tree. Wind swirled around her, but weak and thready.

  “Mother?” he called.

  Behind him, Vel sucked in a breath. “Zephra is your mother?”

  Tan ignored him. Her face was a mass of bruises. Her dark hair was wild, dead and dried grasses tangled within it. She looked up at him weakly when he lifted her.

  “Tannen? You shouldn’t be here! This place is dangerous for those bonded.”

  “What happened?” he asked.

  Vel pushed Tan aside and ran his hands over Zephra. A water shaping built, strong and confident. As it did, his mother breathed in deeply before trembling and falling back to
the ground. Her eyes fluttered open and then closed, losing focus as she did. Wind whispered up in a weak shaping, spinning around Vel before fading again.

  “Vel?” she whispered.

  “Shh, Zephra, easy.”

  “But you’re gone—”

  “Not gone.”

  Tan looked over at Vel. “Seems you haven’t shared how well you know her.” He laid his mother back on the ground near the tree, propping her up so she could look at him. “What happened with ara?”

  She shook, her body convulsing for a moment. Vel smoothed her hair.

  “Can you heal this?” Tan asked.

  He looked over at Tan. The hollow expression that had been in his eyes when Tan first met him returned. “There is no healing this. It comes from losing the bond.”

  Zephra convulsed again, this time stronger. Her legs kicked wildly, flailing out from her.

  “Will it pass?”

  Vel didn’t answer. Tan should have known that he would not.

  “Vel? Will this pass?”

  He looked over at Tan. “When the Great Mother calls her home.”

  24

  THE HEALING OF SPIRIT

  Tan held his mother, cradling her against him. He’d already lost her once, but since getting her back, their relationship had not been the same. Tan’s growing affection for Amia was part of it, but not entirely. He missed the carefree way his mother had been before Father died, the way she had seemed content. Would he ever sense that from her again?

  “There’s nothing that can be done for her?” Tan refused to believe that; there had to be a shaping that could help.

  Vel crouched next to Zephra. The wild look to his face had softened and he seemed the sanest he’d been since Tan had met him. “I’ve seen this before. It happens with most. First the shaking, then it stops.”

  “What stops?”

  Vel shook his head. “Everything. Breathing. Heart. That’s when the Great Mother calls them back. It’s peace.” He looked at Zephra with wide, sorrowful eyes. “For someone as bound to an elemental as Zephra, it’s not a surprise that she should suffer when separated from ara.”

  Tan held his mother, unable to believe there was nothing he could do. She had survived it once before; why not now?