She turned, as if that answered everything, and reached the lowest level.
Tan wasn’t as certain. If Incendin had more fire shapers, why hadn’t they attacked before now? Maybe Incendin had as few fire shapers as the kingdoms. But why would that be the case?
“Great Mother!” Cianna said.
Tan hurried down the last few steps and reached her. The shapers lanterns gave the circular area a warm glow, but shadows remained in between them, drifting back toward the doors, almost as if drawn there.
“What?” he asked.
“You know what this is?”
“Roine said it was the first archive.”
She whistled softly to herself. “First Archive,” she said, emphasizing it like a title. “Ethea is old, but this place?” She shook her head again. “This place is old. Most of the buildings in Ethea are hundreds of years old. Much of the archive overhead is even older, somehow shaped into being.”
Golud helped create the archive above. Did Cianna know that?
“But this? This place is even older than that. A thousand years? Maybe more? And look how well preserved it is!”
Tan touched the nearest door. A humming sense came from it, working through his fingers. He focused on it, wondering where it came from, and started building a shaping.
Then he released it. He didn’t know what type of shaping would work. Doing anything blindly only risked wasting his energy.
“Roine said there should be a key.”
Cianna looked over. “Probably. And I imagine the archivists would never admit if there was.”
“What do you think is behind the doors?”
Roine had offered his ideas about what might be behind the doors but hadn’t really known. None but the archivists truly knew.
Cianna crouched before one of the doors. The ends of her fingers glowed, giving gentle light.
Tan studied the shaping and thought he understood how she did it, pushing fire to the tips of her fingers and holding it there, but how did she keep from burning herself?
“Look at the markings on the door,” she whispered. She traced her finger along them.
Tan leaned over her shoulder to see better. With the light coming from her fingertips, the shadows around the door dispersed. Some folded into the markings on the door, as if pulled there. His eyes traced over them but were drawn to a particular set of shapes.
“I’ve seen these before,” he said, framing them with his fingers, not quite willing to touch them.
Cianna shot him an appraising expression. “These were made by the earliest scholars. When would you have seen them?”
Tan reached over Cianna and touched the runes. They felt cool, but not like the stone of the higher level shaped by golud. This was different, heavy and ancient, as if drawn from the depths of the earth.
“Incendin had something with these on them,” he said. The dark obsidian bowl had runes like this. Amia had known that he shouldn’t touch it but hadn’t said anything more.
Cianna’s eyes widened slightly. “I remember a shaping,” she started, “but it’s unclear, more like a dream than a memory.”
“She used the bowl for her transformation. She pulled her shaping through the bowl.” And through the artifact, but he didn’t know how much Cianna knew about the artifact.
Cianna jerked her hand back and the light at the ends of her fingers died. “You’ve been here before. How did you intend to open the doors?”
Tan hadn’t known. When he had come before, he had been with Roine. Any exploring they might have done was cut short when they found the body of the archivist. “I didn’t really know, but there has to be a way to open them. If the ancient scholars could open these doors, then we should be able to.”
Cianna stood and gave him an amused look. “You think we should be able to recreate what the ancient scholars did? You’ve been to the cavern. The place they shaped a forest into existence?”
Tan began to understand her point.
“Great Mother,” she swore, looking up at him. “And I thought I was backward coming from Nara. Didn’t realize Galen was worse. We might have their records, but they lived in a different time. They knew so much more about shaping than we’ve ever managed to learn. Those scholars were more skilled than us in nearly every way.”
“Because they spoke to the elementals?” Tan asked.
Cianna shrugged. “Don’t know. Maybe because they could shape spirit, too. No warrior has shaped spirit in hundreds of years.”
She moved on to the other doors, leaving Tan staring at the door in front of him. The runes must have some meaning, if only he could determine what it might be. Incendin must know about the runes, at least enough to use in their shapings like the one on the obsidian bowl Alisz intended to use in her shaping.
But there was another place he had seen runes like this—Roine’s sword.
Tan closed his eyes, trying to visualize what he remembered of the sword. Roine must have known they were the same, but why hadn’t he said anything?
And then there was what Cianna suggested. The earliest scholars were nothing like the shapers of today. They were warriors able to shape all the elements, including spirit. Could spirit be the key?
Tan traced his finger around the door, focusing on the runes. The challenge would be intentionally shaping spirit. The only times he had done it had been accidental, just like when he first shaped wind.
But he’d learned to shape with some intent by thinking of how he spoke to the elementals. Would it work with spirit?
The silver pool in the cavern had been liquid spirit. Wading through it gave him insight, a sense of connection, that he had never experienced before. He had shared a connection to Amia, binding them together in a way he could never have imagined possible.
Tan used this sense and reached for what he thought to be a spirit shaping.
Pain surged in his head, pounding and powerful.
And then he collapsed.
6
A Lesson in Fire
Faint light filtered through darkness. Tan blinked his eyes open slowly. His head throbbed, so much like it had when he thought the connection to the draasin to be the problem. Waves of nausea threatened to roll through his stomach. He moved, and the nausea no longer threatened. He turned his head to the side and vomited.
“Careful!”
He wiped his arm across his mouth, wishing to rinse the taste of bile from his burned throat. “Cianna?”
She laughed and stepped toward him, making certain not to step in his pool of vomit. Her nose crinkled. “You finally awake?”
Tan tried to nod, but it only set his head pounding more. “What happened? Where am I?”
She touched a finger to his chest and forehead. Her hand did not feel hot but a soft glow came from her fingers. Tan recognized the shaping as the same as she’d done in the lower level of the archives. “I don’t know. I was looking at the doors. There was a sudden explosion of air. I looked back to see you on your back. Brought you to my place to rest.” She pulled her finger away, apparently satisfied with what she’d discovered. “I hoped you would be able to tell me what happened.”
The pounding in his head made it difficult to think clearly. He remembered the runes and attempting a shaping of spirit, but then… nothing.
“I tried to shape the door,” he admitted.
Cianna moved around the cot he found himself on, making him need to twist to keep her in view. Nausea threatened to overwhelm him again and he closed his eyes until it passed.
“I tried the same thing. Didn’t collapse, though. What did you do different?” She took a seat and leaned toward him. She smelled of heat and a strange spice. Neither seemed unpleasant. Red hair pulled free from the braid in places, and she pulled its thickness around her shoulder.
Tan took a deep breath. “Tried to shape spirit.”
Cianna was silent for a moment. “You can sense spirit?” she asked softly.
He opened his eyes. His vision had cleared
enough for him to see dark gray stone overhead. A small lantern hung from the stone, glowing with dim orange light. It took a moment to realize the light was shaped, but differently than the shapers lanterns. Warm, dry air pressed on him, also shaped.
“Probably can shape it, too.”
She leaned toward him. The heat from her body pressed on him, making him acutely aware of how close she was. Tan turned his head enough to see her. She had changed from the dark traveling cloak she’d worn. She wore a tight-fitting jacket of a sleek material that shimmered in the light from the lantern overhead, cut low to reveal the cleft of her chest.
How long had it been since he passed out?
“You can shape spirit.” She let out a slow breath. “Does Theondar know?”
“He knows.”
She laughed softly and touched him on the arm. Her fingers danced across the inside of his wrist, making a surge of heat wash through him. As it did, the pain and nausea eased. She shaped him, but not a shaping he recognized.
“What did you do?”
“The only thing I can,” she said. “I wasn’t sure it would even work. How do you feel?”
Tan turned his head. The nausea was still there, but lessened considerably. “Better. But why wouldn’t it work?”
Cianna shrugged. “That shaping only really works on fire shapers. Figured it couldn’t hurt to try on you, seeing as what you are.”
“And what is that?”
She leaned in so her face was close to his. Dark eyes blinked slowly. “Something not seen in the kingdoms in a long time.” She tilted her head. “Maybe you could have opened the First Archive. Can’t believe that’s even possible. Not anymore.”
Tan stared at her for a moment. “I’m not sure I can be that person.”
Cianna grabbed his cheek, pulling him to look at her. “Can’t be that person? Who do you think you’ve been?”
He pulled away from her grip. The way she held his face had felt too familiar. “I’ve only done what I needed to help my friends.”
“And why do you think I serve?”
Tan shrugged. “The debt you owe.” He knew all about the debt to the king. That was the price his parents had paid for learning to shape. It was the reason his father had died.
“That’s only a part of it,” she said. “And not enough to force me to do anything. There comes a time when you have to decide for yourself what’s right and what’s wrong. And when you do, you’ll want to make sure you’re on the side of right.”
Tan pushed up. The nausea faded to little more than nothing. Pain still pressed on him, squeezing lightly on his temples, but not the way it had when he first woke. “I’ve been on that side and nearly died. My father was on that side, and I saw where it got him.”
“Trust me when I say the other side is worse.”
Tan started to tell her that he knew Incendin was worse, but something in the way she said it gave him reason to pause. She knew more about Incendin than she admitted.
“Tell me what you tried to do with the door,” she suggested.
“I thought I could shape it,” he began, thankful for the change in conversation. “The archivists shape spirit. I figured if I could do the same, I might be able to open it.” Except he wasn’t even sure he shaped spirit. When he shaped, there was no control, nothing like what he’d seen from Cianna.
She laughed. “Without knowing the right shaping? You’re lucky it was only a small explosion. A shaping on something like that could just as easily kill.” She nodded when he gaped at her. “From what I can tell, that place takes a particular shaping. It’s sort of like finding the right key for a lock. Without the key, the door won’t open. Only, in this case, without knowing the right key, the door might kill you. Or the key.” She frowned. “I’m not sure which is which in this analogy.”
Tan studied his hands. How could he have been so foolish to think he could perform a shaping where Roine couldn’t?
He needed to know more about shaping before he really did something dangerous.
“You said you’d teach?” he asked without looking up.
“You could be a strong fire shaper,” Cianna said. “And you’re stubborn.”
He tensed.
Cianna smiled. “Those are a good combination. Don’t worry, if you’re too stupid—or stubborn—you won’t survive the lessons.”
* * *
Tan stood in a walled area with nothing but a dirt ground. Cianna had led him here, claiming she had the perfect place for him to practice. By the time they reached the yard, the sun had drifted toward the horizon. The hazy fog swirling around left him only able to see a few paces in front of him but once inside the practice yard, the smoke dissipated, almost as if anticipating what they would do.
One end of the yard was cluttered with refuse. A bale of hay. A small metal post, already twisted and rusting. An old saddle, the leather cracked and faded. A few other items, none of which looked as if they belonged here.
Cianna pointed at the saddle. A shaping built, steady and powerful. When it eased, the saddle began smoking. Cianna held the shaping for a moment before releasing it and turning to him.
“Your turn. Smoke, not fire.”
“Don’t you want me to learn fire?”
She nodded. “Shaping fire is both easy and hard. Starting a fire is the easy part. Fire wants to exist. Controlling a fire is not as easy. That’s where real skill comes into play.”
“I don’t have any skill,” he said.
Cianna snorted. “None,” she agreed. “But you have strength or you wouldn’t have been able to melt through stone like you did in the archives. Now we just need to teach you the control.”
“And making smoke will teach that?”
Cianna held her hand out to Tan and waited for him to take it. He did so reluctantly, watching her carefully. Since his awakening in the small room, she had been acting differently toward him.
“You can sense?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Good. Not sure how to teach you otherwise.” She pointed toward the end of the yard. “Pay attention. Sense what I do. There will be several examples.”
Cianna breathed out. Steam hissed from her nose in a soft shaping. Pressure and heat built in her hand, slow but rising steadily.
Tan sensed for the shaping. It was there, a faint sensation tickling the back of his mind. He closed his eyes, trying to recreate the shaping Cianna made. Pressure built in his ears, but sharp—too quickly for smoke.
Cianna cursed.
Tan snapped his eyes open.
Flames worked up her arm and she quickly extinguished them with a shaping. Tan worried he hurt her but saw her skin was unharmed. The shimmery jacket she wore hadn’t even taken on any damage.
“Control,” she said. Again, she formed a shaping.
This time, Tan felt it beginning. The shaping formed slowly, as if drawn out of Cianna, pulled from inside her. It worked through her skin until reaching her fingers. There, heat and pressure built as she held his hand.
“Try again,” she demanded. “But be more careful. I can control most fire, but you’ve almost got too much strength.”
Tan’s heart fluttered as he nodded. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Cianna barked out a short laugh. “It will take more than your clumsy attempts to hurt me,” she said. “Make it soft, like a caress.”
His skin tingled where her shaping touched him but didn’t burn.
Tan inhaled slowly and tried to create the shaping like Cianna’s. Pulling from within him, he tried taking the shaping and drawing it through his skin and toward his fingers as he sensed her doing. This time, nothing happened.
He tried again, reaching within himself, but there was no fire there.
How had he shaped the fire the first time? How had he shaped it when he almost burned Cianna’s arm?
Not from a shaping that started within him. His shaping had come from outside of him, drawn from the heat of the air all around him. Why should
this be different?
Tan sighed and called out toward fire as if speaking to the draasin. Connected to his fire sensing, he recognized another presence around him, not as strong as Asboel, but still connected to fire. Saa? Would speaking to the lesser elemental even work?
Gently, he urged.
With the thought, smoke simmered from his hand and along his arm.
Cianna nodded. “Good. A good start with control. Now you will need to work on focusing it only where you want it. Fingers. Toes. Stomach.” She smiled at him. “Lips.”
“Why is my shaping different than yours?” he asked.
“The shaping was the same. Yours may have been less focused, but the concept is there. I think with more practice, you will learn the necessary control.”
“It wasn’t the same for me. When you drew out your shaping, it came from inside you, drawn down through you before reaching your hand.”
Cianna studied him, a strange expression on her face. “You sensed where the shaping came from?”
“You told me to sense fire.”
Cianna studied him. “Not many have the patience to sense so closely.”
He shrugged. “My father taught me earth sensing. He made certain I focused on all details as I did. He said I never knew which would be important.”
“Maybe. My shaping comes from within. All shapings do. That’s how we draw on the elemental power. I’ve seen you do it before, just pull from within.” She nodded toward the end of the practice yard, as if it was decided. “Now. You’ve shown control close, but you’ll need it at a distance, too. That’s harder.”
Cianna began a shaping. She still held his hand and her skin pressed against his, dry and comfortable. This time, Tan made certain to focus closely on it. Again, it drew from deep within Cianna, drawn out slowly and pushed toward the saddle on the far end of the practice yard. Even before the shaping struck, Tan knew what it would do.
Smoke rose from the saddle, as if heated on a stove. No flames rose. The scent of burning leather drifted toward them. Cianna held the shaping a moment before releasing it and turning back to Tan.
Changed by Fire (The Cloud Warrior Saga Book 3) Page 6
