The lakebed was deep here where the river ran in, and he slowly drifted downward. Pressure to return to the shore continued to build within him, but he recognized this was not his own. The water began to warm, the turbulent current around him slowing. The fire shapers nearly succeeded.
Tan would die here.
He couldn’t reach the nymid, the sense of the draasin had cut off from him, and Amia wouldn’t answer. He was alone.
And Roine still hadn’t arrived. He wouldn’t, if the archivist had shaped him.
Had the kingdom shapers tried attacking him? It seemed they had. If not for his weak shaping, whatever they attempted in the forest might have prevented him from finding Amia.
Had the kingdom’s shapers already been influenced by the archivists?
If Jishun were involved, it meant the king himself might have been shaped. If so, then the entirety of the kingdoms was at risk.
Unless someone did something to stop them.
But he wasn’t a shaper—not yet—with barely any control over the weak ability he had. His greatest strength was speaking to the elementals, and if they wouldn’t answer, he had no strength.
Amia needed his help, though. Even if he didn’t feel the gentle urging of her shaping for him to protect her, he would want to do what he could, whatever it was.
He would have to figure out something on his own.
How could he stop a spirit shaping?
He’d done something to help Asboel. Could he do the same for himself?
Tan focused on what he’d done, thinking of how he’d encased Asboel’s mind. This time, rather than pushing out through the connection to the draasin, he focused it internally, wrapping himself around his own mind. As he did, he realized what it was he did, practically saw the shaping of water and air he used to create a sort of shield. He had done something like this before, only without knowing what he’d done.
His ears popped.
And the oily shaping from the archivist separated from him with a snap.
Tan gasped.
Asboel was there, shouting in his mind.
MAELEN!
Tan pushed back, pushing the sense of the draasin away from him.
I am here.
Relief flooded through the connection. You disappeared.
Tan snorted. Not by choice.
Fire. It is nearly complete.
Is there anything you can do?
Asboel sent an image through the connection. Kingdom shapers attacked him from all sides: wind and fire and water. As long as Asboel remained in the sky, the earth shapers couldn’t reach him. He fought, but grew tired.
Go. Save yourself. I will finish this and help the youngest.
Asboel roared through the connection. You will not fight alone, Maelen.
Can you stay above the attack for now?
Asboel seemed annoyed he had to ask. Yes. What will you do?
Tan could think of only one thing he could do. There was only one way he would be able to remove the archivist’s influence off the youngest and the shapers. And that required Amia.
I will fight.
Asboel roared approval.
Tan saw as if through his eyes as the draasin soared high into the sky, piercing through the dark clouds threatening rain and thunder, streaking through the lightning and fire, ignoring the wind. He reached a place of quiet and calm and turned, looking down at the lake.
Tan turned to the water. The nymid were nearby. They must be, or else he would have needed air long ago.
The Daughter needs your help again.
Soft murmuring, almost voices. And then, He Who is Tan.
Tan smiled tightly. Can you help?
A green shape, like an elongated face, came into view. Since seeing the udilm, Tan had begun to wonder if the nymid truly shared the same strength as the ocean elemental. Seeing the nymid now, he recognized something he hadn’t seen when floundering in the ocean with Elle. They were much the same.
The Daughter suffers.
Tan nodded. It was his fear.
Fire will boil the source.
Tan nodded again. The water they take can be returned.
They destroy.
They are like Twisted Fire.
The soft murmuring increased. Twisted Fire cannot return.
Tan frowned. They are not twisted fire, but work with them.
Twisted Fire cannot return, the nymid repeated.
I will do what I can to stop—
In their agitation, the nymid interrupted him. Do not let Dark Fire reach the source.
I will do what I can, but I will need your help.
The face of the nymid twisted, looking out toward the shore. You command water. You command fire.
I don’t know how. I have no control.
The nymid seemed amused by the statement. The face turned back toward him. We will help, He Who is Tan.
With the words, the shimmering green shape of the nymid swirled around him, coating him as they had once before, creating a type of armor. The armor would shield him from the fire shapers, but he would have to protect himself from the spirit shaper. As long as his shaping of water and wind held.
Prepare.
Tan frowned.
Water swelled around him, swirling and rolling. A strong wave pushed from behind, pressing Tan up from the sandy bottom of the lake. He rode atop the wave, moving up and up as the water surged.
And then the wave crested.
He took a deep breath.
The river was nothing but a heavy cloud of steam. Tan couldn’t tell if any water ran through it anymore, but it likely didn’t matter. The river had narrowed enough that the shapers could cross.
Aeta wagons rolled, moving steadily over the land the river had occupied. Tan saw the wagons as flashes of muted color through the fog. Wood creaked as it rolled. A few voices shouted.
The wave coursed down, slamming into the wagons.
Tan landed with a splash. Water swirled around his ankles, tugging at his legs as it flowed into the lake. Hot air tried to burn him, but the nymid armor pushed against it.
The sudden wave had sent the wagons into disarray. Some pressed forward, horses frantically attempting to pull the wagons free. Tan focused on the ground and sent out a request with a breath, shaped like he had when he had landed in Incendin.
Mud formed beneath them, slowing the horses.
Tan prayed it would slow the shapers as well.
He reached the nearest wagon. He sensed someone moving inside and listened for Amia. It wasn’t her. Moving on, he stopped at the next. Again, he sensed but found no sign of her.
Going wagon to wagon would be too slow.
He closed his eyes, ignoring the sounds of shouting and the creaking of wagons around him. He ignored the splashing waves slamming at them again and again as the nymid did what they could to help. He ignored the growing heat in the air as the fire shapers tried to undo what the nymid had done.
Through it, he focused on his connection to Amia.
The sense was weak. Whatever the archivist did to her—and Tan had no doubt the archivist was responsible—it kept her from reaching him. But he could still sense her, deep within his mind. And she had nearly responded to him before.
He followed what he sensed of Amia.
She was near. He felt certain of that.
Tan moved away from the wagons. This time, he reached through his connection to Asboel. Show me where she is.
The draasin turned and an image tinted with the strange draasin orange and red sight came into his mind.
He knew where to find her.
Tan ran toward her wagon.
It appeared out of the steam as bright blue and green. He had seen the wagon before when they were in Ethea, before she felt the need to leave. Had the pain she’d been feeling had anything to do with the archivist, or had it truly been from her shaping of him?
They would learn together. Once he rescued her, he wouldn’t leave her alone again, regardless of what she s
aid.
The door to the wagon slammed open. The tall, wide fire shaper stepped out.
He saw Tan and smiled.
Tan ran at him, ramming his shoulder into the shaper, knocking him back.
A blast of fire lanced toward him. Tan didn’t have time to move. The fire struck him square in his chest.
And then disappeared.
Tan looked down to make sure he hadn’t been harmed, but saw no sign of fire. He’d not even felt any heat. Whatever the nymid had done protected him even better than the armor he had worn the last time.
The fire shaper lunged.
Tan stepped to the side. He had no weapon to slow the fire shaper, nothing to stop him. The man was solid, built like a blacksmith, but moved with a dangerous grace.
Another burst of fire, this time spreading out in a wide shower.
It passed over him, disappearing as it did. Somewhere behind him, someone screamed. The fire shaper cocked his head to the side.
In that moment, he ran at him again. Tan needed to get past the shaper to reach Amia.
This time, he slammed his shoulder into the man’s stomach. The fire shaper doubled over with a grunt. Tan brought his knee up, trying to kick him. The fire shaper recovered enough to grab him and began bending him forward.
The fire shaper was stronger than Tan and crumpled him.
His vision started to cloud. Heat pressed on his neck, slowly but steadily, rising in intensity. Tan suspected that with enough time, the shaping would overwhelm even the nymid armor.
He had to do something.
He pressed out with the same request he’d used before, asking the earth to soften. His ears popped as the shaping washed away from him. For a moment, he thought it might work, that the ground might soften enough for him to trap the fire shaper. Then the shaper directed his shaping downward, heating the ground. Somehow, this stabilized him.
He laughed. “An earth shaper? I will need to learn what trick you use to stop the fire.”
“Not… only… earth,” Tan grunted.
He might not be a strong shaper, but he could speak to the elementals, especially in this place—the place of convergence where all the elementals existed. And he needed their help.
With that, he begged the wind for aid.
He sent out the request on a light breath.
At first, nothing happened. Then wind began swirling around. Translucent faces appeared in the wind. Were they ara? And if they were, could they help?
Tan, son of Zephra, needs your assistance.
His voice disappeared from him with a flutter of wind.
Zephra.
The name came through softly, barely a disturbance in the air.
Tan nodded.
Please. Help.
Wind swirled, raging around the fire shaper. Tearing at him with tiny fingers.
The man grunted and released him.
Tan kicked him and then pushed past, barreling into the wagon, not waiting to see if he would follow.
Inside, the wagon was more sparsely decorated than the last time he’d seen it. Long, leathery skins lined the walls, most painted with strange symbols with a dark ink. Or blood, he decided. The obsidian bowl he had seen before rested near the center of the wagon. Fire danced within it.
A few other implements lined the floor. Hooks and wire with thick barbs ran along the ground. Something wet and sticky clung to them.
Blood.
Tan turned away, looking for Amia.
He found her chained to the far wall. A clamp held her mouth closed. The chains swirled around her arms, biting into her skin. Blood trickled down and onto the floor. More symbols were written on the floor, the trail of blood leading to Amia.
Tan shivered.
“Amia?”
She shuddered slightly but didn’t try to speak.
Tan ran to her, kicking the barbed wire out of the way. He nearly stumbled on the hook lying across the ground, but caught himself and threw it to the side.
Two long screws held the clamp over her mouth. Tan twisted them until the clamp fell free, dropping to the floor. Amia gasped.
Finally, she looked up. “Tan?” she whispered.
He nodded.
“What happened? How are you here?”
He smiled tightly. “It’s a long story. I need to hurry to get you free.”
“The chains—”
“I know. I’ll get them free.”
“No—”
She didn’t get the chance to finish.
The door to the wagon slammed open and the bald fire shaper stepped inside.
When he saw Tan, he smiled.
“A warrior,” he said appreciatively. “Untrained, but still strong. Too bad you will not live long enough to learn how to use your abilities.”
He didn’t move, but Tan had the sense of movement.
The fire in the obsidian bowl surged, rising into a pillar. Tan had seen something similar from the lisincend before, but this shaper was not one of the lisincend.
With a dark smile on his face, he pressed the fire toward Tan.
Tan didn’t have time to react.
The armor might protect him, but it would not protect Amia, not from this fire.
Without thinking, he pulled through his connection to Asboel, pulled from the great elemental, and drew fire into himself.
The flames extinguished with a hot gust of air.
The obsidian bowl cracked.
The fire shaper looked from Tan to the bowl, shaking his head as he did. “What did you…”
Tan didn’t wait. He grabbed the hook he’d tossed to the side and swung it up and around. The hook connected with the fire shaper’s head. He fell with a loud thunk.
Amia stared at him.
Tan took the hook and worked it in the back of the chain, leveraging it back and forth. When it was lodged as far as he could get it, he pressed down with an assisted surge. The chains cracked and fell to the ground around Amia, who shook softly in a way that reminded Tan of Elle.
He grabbed her, scooping her in his arms.
She continued shaking. “How are you here?”
“The draasin.”
“But the shapers… the archivist… he’s one of the Aeta.”
Tan blinked slowly. Aeta. Of course he would be. “I saw him.”
She looked up and met his eyes. “Has he…” She hesitated, and a soft touch brushed his mind. “Has he shaped you?”
“He tried.”
Amia blinked. “You knew?”
“I felt what he attempted.”
“How did you…”
Tan shook his head. “I don’t really know. I had to protect Asboel,” he answered, saying the draasin’s name before realizing what he did. Amia would likely learn it from him anyway.
Amia smiled. “Asboel. Fitting, I think. You learned what they did to the little one?”
Tan nodded. “It’s why she attacked. It’s the reason he summoned me.” Tan paused near the obsidian bowl, looking down into it. More of the strange symbols had been carved into the stone itself. Tan reached for the bowl to touch them, but Amia slapped his hand away.
“Don’t!”
He turned. “What is it?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. It increases their power, draws from a different source, I think. They were using it in a shaping.”
“What kind of shaping?” As he asked, he looked around the room again and thought he understood. Whatever it was involved Amia. “What did they need you for?”
“I’m not sure. I should know, but the archivist… he does something that keeps me from understanding.”
“I think he shaped the kingdom’s shapers as well.”
Amia’s eyes widened slightly. “And Roine?”
He still hadn’t seen Roine since they had separated. Where had he gone? What did that mean?
Had Tan said anything to Roine that might have helped the archivist with whatever he had planned? He didn’t think so. Roine already knew everything
he’d said.
But where was he?
And where was the archivist?
CHAPTER 29
Escape from the Aeta
They stepped out of the Aeta wagon. Steam still rose around them in a blanket of fog, but voices escaped, shouting. Tan set Amia down, letting her walk. “Can you get us through here safely?”
She looked up at him. “I…”
She didn’t have the chance to finish; she shuddered violently. Tan caught her and held her close to him, waiting for it to pass.
It was the same illness that had overcome Elle. Not his shaping, as he’d feared, but something the archivists had done. With Elle, it had progressed quickly until she could no longer function. How much time did Amia have?
When it stopped, she looked at him. “I can’t shape. When I try…”
He nodded. The convulsions. Whatever they had done prevented her from safely shaping. There had been only one way to heal Elle, and that had involved getting her to the udilm. Tan didn’t think the water elementals would help this time. For Amia, she needed spirit.
Reaching spirit would be dangerous. Especially if the archivist and the Incendin shaper headed there as well. But for Amia, he had to try.
Someone emerged from the fog. A tall Aeta, bright clothing marking him as one of the traders, stood and looked at them. When he saw Tan and Amia, he yelled.
How could one of her people allow this to happen to her? How could the Aeta turn on their own?
These were questions he would have answered later, he told himself as the Aeta trader pulled a long knife from a belt sheath and started toward them.
Tan sent an angry request on the wind.
It responded with a soft breath of an answer, blowing through the wagon, lifting the fog. More than that, it sent the Aeta staggering. He tripped, stumbling into the thick mud.
The archivist stood before them, suddenly revealed from within the fog. Yulan. He studied Tan with his bright eyes and his shaping built, pressing on Tan’s mind. As he did, Tan understood what the archivist did and he pushed against it, sealing his mind from the outside influence.
The archivist shifted his attention to Amia.
If Tan did nothing, he could harm her. “Why?” he demanded. “They are your people!”
The archivist glanced at him, for a moment taking his attention off Amia. “Isn’t that reason enough? Must the People wander forever?” He shook his head. “Banished out of ignorance. Now… now it is our time.”
Bound by Fire (The Cloud Warrior Saga Book 2) Page 22
