Prelude to Fire: Parts 1 and 2

by D. K. Holmberg

  Something was different.

  Lacertin couldn’t tell what it was. There was a vague energy in the outer room, like someone had recently shaped, but he didn’t see anyone here. He knocked at the inner door, but there was no answer. He knocked again, and again there was no answer.

  A sharp buildup of energy pushed on him from a shaper nearby.

  Lacertin opened the door and met little resistance.

  Inside was empty.

  That wasn’t quite right. A dark outline along the wall to his right looked like a doorway had formed in the stone, but it began to fade the longer he was in the room. Whatever had happened to the wall had happened recently.

  If there had been a shaper here, was Ilianna harmed?

  He owed it to Ilton to find out. Whatever else happened, the king had trusted him and Lacertin still served the king, even though he had died.

  He stopped in front of the wall and pushed on the stone. The outline of the doorway had faded to nothing, disappearing completely. He knew something had been there. He’d seen it and, in the residual shaped energy, he felt it. Lacertin closed his eyes and listened to the stone, using earth sensing as he did.

  There was a faint trail of energy. With a shaping of earth, he tried pushing on it. He felt resistance, so he added fire to the shaping of earth, contrasting the elements. With a soft groan, the wall shifted, opening up before him.

  Lacertin staggered back. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it wasn’t a door opening.

  What was this?

  He ducked his head inside. If something had happened to Ilianna, if there was a shaper involved, he needed to find out.

  The wall swung closed behind him, plunging him into darkness. He held his hand on the wall and made his way forward, using a combination of earth and fire sensing to reach for shapers lanterns, but he sensed nothing. His hand brushed a corner and he stopped, forced to turn.

  Where was he?

  Somehow, he’d found a way inside the walls of the palace, but where exactly? And where did this lead?

  Without light, he might not be able to find his way out. He could always shape earth and force his way through the wall, but that seemed drastic. Besides, there was another concern he had to worry about: he wasn’t alone in this passageway.

  Lacertin listened with earth sensing but came up with nothing. Whoever had come before him was already gone.

  Not everything was gone. There was a subtle tug on his senses, a gentle wind that blew through here. Lacertin pulled on the wind, using a shaping to latch onto it, and followed it forward. He turned again, but this time, the wind guided him, easing him forward. He kept one hand on the wall as he went, trailing along it so that he knew when the direction changed.

  When he noted the soft wind shifting, he stopped.

  Another gap opened in the wall here. It was narrow, barely more than a hair’s width, but enough that he could feel the way the wind tried pushing through.

  As he stood there, the gap began to fade to nothing, leaving the walls smooth.

  This had been shaped as well. Lacertin pulled on earth shaping and traced along the wall, searching for an opening like had been on the other wall. For a moment, he wasn’t sure that he would find anything.

  It was subtle, the barest of evidence that anything had been through here. Had he not been so attuned to the possibility that there had been a shaping here, he wasn’t sure he would have noted it. As it was, he almost missed it.

  Lacertin used a shaping of earth, adding fire as he had when entering the passageway. The shaping formed around the wall, running in a zigzagging pattern up the wall and then back down, forming something like a doorway.

  Readying a shaping, as he didn’t know what he’d find, he pushed through.

  Lacertin blinked.

  The other side of the wall opened into Ilton’s room. The smell should have alerted him first. The thick stench of the medicines mixed with the undertones of rot from his illness. A single shapers lantern gave soft light to the room.

  He shouldn’t be here.

  Custom demanded that royalty be given time alone to ensure the soul would rejoin with the Great Mother. Disturbing the dead risked this.

  Yet Lacertin was not alone in the room.

  Ilianna was here, standing next to the bed in a long, elegant dress of a shimmery blue. A matching blue gemstone pendant hung on her neck. She spun to look at him and her mouth pinched in a hint of surprise.

  “Lacertin?” she whispered.

  Of all the people who hadn’t recognized him when he returned, he shouldn’t have been surprised that Ilianna would. She took her hand off her father’s chest and clasped her hands together.

  “We shouldn’t be here,” he said softly.

  “You shouldn’t be here. I’m his daughter.”

  “You’re still not allowed,” Lacertin said. There were many things that he’d done in his life that violated, or risked violating, one custom or another, but this ranked the highest of anything he’d ever done. “We can’t disturb him or he won’t have the chance to—”

  Ilianna turned back to her father. “Do you really believe those superstitions, or are you repeating what you think you’re expected to say?”

  Lacertin’s breath caught. Something had changed with her.

  He took a hesitant step toward the bed and stopped next to her. “I’m sorry that he’s gone.”

  She opened her mouth before closing it again. Then she shook her head. “It was too soon,” she said in a whisper. Her voice choked as she did and she wiped a hand across her cheek, pushing away the tear that had formed.

  “He’s been sick for a while,” Lacertin said.

  “Not sick. Poisoned.”

  “You don’t really believe that, do you?” he asked.

  “You’ve shaped him. You know about the illness coursing through his veins. Tell me that wasn’t a poisoning.”

  “The healers don’t think he’s poisoned, Ilianna. If they had, don’t you think they would have said something?”

  She sighed. “Are you so certain they didn’t?”

  Lacertin thought about Wallyn and the skill he’d seen from him with shaping. Had there been a poisoning, Wallyn would have known. “The healers of Ethea are the best in the world,” he said.

  She closed her eyes and nodded. “They are the best,” she said with a sigh. “You served him well. He always loved you.”

  “I did what he asked of me,” Lacertin agreed.

  “And what was that? You’ve been gone from the city for months, Lacertin. Whatever errand he sent you on must have been important.”

  Lacertin frowned, thinking that he’d found the box in her room. “You don’t know? I thought your father included you in everything.”

  “Not in this,” she said.

  “Then why did you take the plates he asked me to retrieve?”

  Ilianna turned away from her father slowly and met Lacertin’s eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I saw them, Ilianna.”

  “You saw nothing, Lacertin.”

  He grunted. “Would you like me to return with you to your room so that I can show you what I saw? Now that Ilton is gone, you don’t have to worry about what he’ll say—”

  “He’s not gone,” she said softly.

  Lacertin frowned. “Not gone? The bells toll. Of course he’s gone.”

  She turned back to her father and touched his chest. A shaping built and he turned quickly, searching for who might be doing it before realizing that it was Ilianna who had shaped.

  CHAPTER 14

  “You… you’re a shaper?” Lacertin stared at Ilianna, noting her striking jawline and her wide, hazel eyes. All these years that he’d known her, and during all that time, he hadn’t known. How long had she known?

  “I can shape,” she admitted. “Not that it does any good.”

  “What? How?” Lacertin had a hard time finding the words. “Does Theondar know?”

  Before asking, he hadn
’t realized that was the question he really cared about. He had expected to ask about Ilton, whether the king knew that she could shape.

  “Only my father knows,” she said.

  Lacertin realized that she had shaped water at nearly the same time that he realized that Ilton still breathed. Lying on the wide bed, nothing but the thin, white sheet covering him, his breaths came slow and ragged. His cheeks were pale, almost waxy in appearance. He might not have died, but he didn’t have much time remaining.

  “Why announce that he died?” Lacertin asked.

  Ilianna pushed a strand of blond hair behind her ears. “He believes as I did.”

  Lacertin touched his king, felt the warmth still flowing through his veins, before meeting Ilianna’s eyes. There was defiance within them mixed with something else. Was it a plea for help? Relief?

  “Ilton believed that he was poisoned?”

  “Yes.”

  “But why hide it?”

  “Because he doesn’t know who poisoned him.”

  “Why hide it from me?” Lacertin asked.

  Ilianna didn’t answer.

  Lacertin made his way toward the king. “Why would you hide your ability to shape?”

  She lifted her hand. Tears streamed down her cheeks. The pained expression told him everything that he needed to know. She didn’t hide the ability to shape to protect herself, or to protect her father, though that might be a part of it now.

  “Althem?” Lacertin asked. “You hid this for your brother?”

  “You know the law. The throne passes to the next shaper first. Althem would never rule if any knew that I could shape.”

  “And Ilton agreed with this?” He found it hard to believe that Ilton would want Ilianna to suppress her ability, especially knowing as he did how Ilton wanted nothing more than to have another shaper sit upon the kingdoms’ throne. With Ilianna, he could have that.

  “My father saw how Althem wanted to rule.”

  “That’s no answer.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  Lacertin glanced back at the door to Ilton’s chambers. “What if Althem could shape?”

  When the prince had gone to the university, there had been a question about whether he had the ability, but so far, none had witnessed any sign that he could. Lacertin himself had attempted to teach him but found no sign that he could develop the ability. He couldn’t even find evidence that Althem had any capacity to sense. That didn’t mean that he couldn’t learn. There had been countless shapers who developed their abilities later in life.

  “Then it wouldn’t have mattered. Besides,” she said, running her fingers across the sheet covering her father, “I never wanted to rule. Not like Althem. Trust me, Lacertin, it really is better this way.”

  He wasn’t sure that it was. Now that he knew, could he really keep it a secret?

  “Why show me now?” he asked.

  Ilianna laughed bitterly. “Did I have a choice? You followed me. Eventually, you would realize that there were no other shapers here. And then?” She shook her head.

  “That’s not the reason,” he said.

  She closed her eyes, holding onto her father’s hand. “I need your help.”

  Lacertin shaped water, borrowing from the shaping that he’d seen Wallyn using on Veran. He let it wash over Ilton, starting from his head and working his way down to his feet. All the way through the shaping, he noted the way the illness burned in his veins.

  Like before, there wasn’t anything that he could do to heal him. He added fire, mixing it into the shaping of water, but it burned too hotly through Ilton. Lacertin shifted the shaping, drawing the fire out, pulling it from where it burned within him until the fevers that worked through him eased.

  Ilton breathed easier with the shaping.

  Why hadn’t he thought to try that before?

  “What did you do?” Ilianna asked.

  “I only pulled fire out of him,” he said.

  “Fire? Why would you need fire to heal him?”

  “It burns in him,” Lacertin answered. He couldn’t explain it any better than that.

  The shaping that he’d used hadn’t healed him—Lacertin still wasn’t sure that there was anything that he could do that would heal him—but he rested more comfortably.

  Ilianna added her shaping to what Lacertin had done. As she did, he noted her skill with water, but that it wasn’t only water she used. Earth and wind mixed with water. Ilianna was a warrior.

  He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to face him. “You’ve not only hidden that you’re a shaper.”

  Ilianna let his hand remain on her wrist for a moment before pulling away. “As I said, it doesn’t matter.”

  “It does matter. If you’re a warrior, the kingdoms need you more than before. You could help fight Incendin—”

  “I did not want her fighting Incendin.”

  Ilton spoke in a harsh whisper, his voice clipped and breathy. He looked up at Ilianna with pride in his eyes.

  “My king,” Lacertin said, bowing his head.

  “You have always served me well, Lacertin. You’ve done everything asked of you, even to the end.” Ilton was clearer than the last time Lacertin had come. Had the shaping helped that much? Had drawing away the fever that boiled his blood made such a difference that even his mind was clear? If this shaping worked, could he repeat it, keep Ilton ruling?

  Wallyn and the other water shapers might be more skilled with healing than him, but Lacertin had skill with fire that came from living with it, growing up in the harsh lands of Nara. If drawing fire away was the secret to healing him, Lacertin could help. He had to help.

  “I’ve failed,” he said. “I didn’t know that you were poisoned.”

  Ilton coughed and Ilianna reached toward his mouth, covering it with her hand as she stared toward the door. There would be guards standing outside the door to ensure no one disturbed Ilton. Shapers, possibly even warriors.

  The coughing eased and Ilianna removed her hand. Lacertin noted blood on it that she wiped on her dress.

  “None knew that I was poisoned,” Ilton managed to say. “None of the healers has been able to help, and the archivists haven’t discovered a traditional way to heal me.”

  “We could pull away fire as I did—”

  “How long do you think that will work?” Ilton smiled sadly. “You have always been faithful, Lacertin, and more loyal than I deserve.”

  Lacertin wished there was more that he could do. Would it have mattered if he had attempted to use fire with Ilton when he first learned of his illness? Even then, Ilton wanted only his healers and the archivists to help. Lacertin hadn’t been given the chance, but why would he have? He was no healer, and though he had spent much time in the archives, he was not one of the archivists, either.

  “Do you know who did it?” Lacertin asked.

  Ilton coughed again and Ilianna reached over him to cover him. “Had I known, there might have been something I could have done. No, whoever did this will win this battle, but Incendin must not learn that they succeeded. They must not see a weakness within the kingdoms.”

  “You think it Incendin?” Lacertin asked.

  “I don’t know,” Ilton said. He moved his thin arms and crossed them over his chest. Dark blue veins were prominent beneath his skin, spreading out like spider webs. Heat radiated from him, growing warmer by the moment. The shaping already began to fail. “Incendin is the only one with the motivation.”

  “How would they have reached you?” Lacertin asked.

  Ilton started to cough and again, Ilianna covered it. “That’s what you must learn, Lacertin. I’m sorry to ask this of you now, but you must keep my family safe.”

  Lacertin stared at Ilton, words failing him at first. “You could have told me sooner.”

  “In my own way, I already did,” Ilton said. “You’ve done more for me than you will ever know.”

  Lacertin swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. “Does Althem know?”

 
; Ilianna looked to her father with the question, and Lacertin realized that Ilton had only shared with his daughter.

  “Does Theondar know?” he asked her.

  “He can’t know. No one can know, Lacertin.”

  “I’m sorry that I kept it from you until now,” Ilton whispered.

  “The plates?” he asked.

  Ilton let out a rattling breath. The color that had returned to his cheeks already began fading again, leaving them ruddy and waxy. How much longer would he remain lucid?

  “It was Anna’s idea,” he said, squeezing her hand. “Something she found in one of the sacred texts.”

  “What sacred texts?” Lacertin asked.

  Ilianna met her father’s eyes and he nodded. “It’s Lacertin. Other than you, there is no one who I trust more,” he said.

  Ilianna touched her father’s cheek. A trail of tears ran down her cheek and she nodded. “Rest, Father,” she said. “I will show him.”

  Lacertin noted that the king had already fallen back asleep.

  CHAPTER 15

  Ilianna led him through the darkened passageway, this time taking the time to create a small shaping of fire to lead him. She stopped at a section of wall and a controlled shaping built. Lacertin realized that she wasn’t a strong shaper, but she had more control than many of the shapers that he’d met, even more control than many of the warrior shapers.

  A line appeared along the wall, forming quickly from the ground and making a door in the wall as she shaped. With a quick push, the door swung open.

  Ilianna stepped out into her room and glanced around. Another earth shaping built, this one washing over the room itself. Lacertin had used a similar shaping before—possibly the same one, he realized—to determine if anyone had been there before her.

  “We’re alone,” he said. He’d done the same thing, but prior to stepping back into the room.

  She glanced at the door, bunching her dress in her hands as she hurried to the shelf along the wall. There, she stopped and knelt, motioning to Lacertin to follow.