Bound by Fire (The Cloud Warrior Saga Book 2)

by D. K. Holmberg

  Amia shook violently. Whatever the archivist was doing harmed her.

  Tan roared, startling the archivist. With it, fire burst from his hand and struck the other man in the chest, knocking him back with the heat of the attack. The archivist twitched and didn’t rise.

  Had Tan just used a shaping to kill?

  He shook off the thought. Not to kill—to protect. Had he done nothing, Amia would have suffered.

  “There is another,” she whispered weakly.

  Tan glanced at her and nodded.

  When he neared the water’s edge, he felt heat rising, so he turned and saw what he expected: the other Incendin fire shaper.

  Her touch was subtler than the other shaper’s had been. She swirled heat and smoke and fire from the ground itself, sending it in a torrent around them, pressing against the nymid armor.

  “Why are you here?” he demanded.

  The shaper smiled darkly. “Because Fur was too weak to do what was needed. He sacrificed too much, but I’ve learned how to have fire serve me.”

  Her voice was hoarse and reminded him of the lisincend. She held a wide band of silver—the Mother’s—in her hand. Blood stained it.

  The heat threatened to swallow him, powerful and intense and painfully hot. Tan swallowed as he took a step back but her shaping kept him from the water. Amia shrank against him. Were he a more powerful shaper, he might be able to push back the fire. But he wasn’t that skilled shaper. Not yet. He did, however, have another ability, one this fire shaper didn’t.

  Asboel!

  Tan sent the thought like a needle toward the circling draasin. Reaching Tan would be dangerous for Asboel. He would have to come through whatever the kingdom’s shapers had planned. But Asboel was one of the great elementals, a creature of fire itself.

  He streaked toward the earth like a bolt from the heavens.

  Tan felt him roar in his mind.

  The fire shaper felt something as well. She turned her attention away from Tan as Asboel plunged from the sky.

  With a wave of her hand, she sent heat and smoke whistling around her.

  Asboel responded with a snarl. Flames leaped from his mouth and nose, ripping through her shaping. He roared again, this time aloud. The sound echoed across the valley and he landed with a snap of his tail. It caught the shaper and sent her tumbling away. Tan grabbed onto his spines and swung atop, pulling Amia along with him.

  You bring another.

  The Daughter. We need to reach the Mother or she will die.

  Asboel sent his frustration.

  Without her, I can’t help the youngest. I do not know how.

  Asboel snorted. Very well.

  They launched into the air.

  Shapers attack. Hold tightly.

  As Asboel sent the command, a blast of wind struck them, funneling around Asboel’s wings. He spun, flicking his tail to regain momentum, but couldn’t.

  Tan focused on the wind shaping, feeling the current of air. With a soft request to ara, he begged the wind to release Asboel.

  The wind died and they shot upward, propelled by ara.

  You grow quickly, Maelen.

  I did not shape that.

  Asboel snorted amusement. No shaping. You speak with ara. She is difficult. Fickle.

  I am the son of Zephra. I think that is why ara responds.

  You continue to underestimate yourself.

  A vision of the ground came through his connection to Asboel. Beneath them, fire raged, burning everything to ash. Dark flames licked the ground, twisting and writhing, building to horrible size. Aeta wagons disappeared in a flash. Through Asboel’s eyes, Tan saw the Aeta die, turned to ash and char. It was the second time he’d seen Incendin destroy the Aeta.

  He pushed away the image. He would shield Amia from it as long as he could.

  They reached the clouds. Again, rain tried tearing through them. This time, Asboel sent a snarl of fire around them and the rain turned to steam, filling the sky with a heavy cloud like the fire shapers had attempted on land.

  He banked, turning rapidly, spinning toward the mountain. As he did, Amia shook again. The convulsion lasted longer, and Tan held her until it passed.

  Thunder rolled behind them, distant at first. It came again, closer this time. Was that Roine? If the archivist had shaped him, Tan didn’t want to come across him until Amia had been healed.

  Hurry, Tan urged.

  Asboel surged forward.

  They reached the peak of the massive mountain. Below them, a gaping hole in the stone dropped down deep into the mountain. The last time he’d been here, he had come through the mouth of the cave. This time, he would come as Lacertin had come.

  They dropped through the mountain. Asboel would be vulnerable here. He wouldn’t be able to stretch his wings. The draasin could use his fire, but any other attack would be limited.

  They touched down on hard stone, Asboel sinking massive claws into the rock.

  Tan looked around before climbing off Asboel’s back. A lush forest grew within the mountain, shaped by the ancient warrior shapers. Grasses and trees grew where they should not. A soft glow radiated from the tunnel.

  The shapers were here.

  He looked where the pillars had once been, now fallen. The pillar formed by the draasin had fallen first, released when Roine helped free the draasin from the lake. Ara and golud had followed quickly after. Only the nymid lingered. Even now, there was a sense of the nymid within the mountain, more than his armor would account for.

  Amia shook again. The tremor lasted longer than the last.

  When it finally subsided, he took her and carried her carefully from Asboel’s back. Watch over us.

  The draasin snorted.

  Tan hurried to the spot where the pool of spirit had once flowed, before releasing the artifact. It had ebbed with the release, and Tan prayed some part of it still remained.

  He sent out a sensing, listening for anyone in the cave. It came as a distant connection, but it was there, vibrating against his senses. There was someone in the shaped garden.

  Can you slow them?

  He sent Asboel an image of the shaped garden. The draasin sniffed in a breath of steam and swooped toward it. He struggled to get close; the shape of the stone made it difficult. Asboel snorted again, this time in frustration, and turned, swirling back into the air. He circled overhead.

  I cannot.

  Tan nodded. He would have to do it on his own.

  He ran to where the pool once had been, clutching Amia against him. She remained still, the convulsions over for now. They would return unless he found some way to heal her.

  Pressure pushed against him as he reached the remnants of the elemental pillars. Though only the nymid remained, upholding their part of the bargain, some memory of the barrier still stood, blocking easy access. Had he not worn the nymid armor, he didn’t know if he would have managed to slide in.

  Once inside, he turned to the depression in the ground where the silver liquid once flowed. Now, nothing remained.

  Amia sighed.

  He turned to her, pulling her away from his chest. “You need to reach the Mother. Only she can save you.”

  Amia blinked weakly. The convulsions had taken too much out of her. “It’s too late. She is gone from this place.”

  Tan looked around and shook his head. “This is a place of convergence. She is never truly gone.”

  Amia smiled. “You think to know the will of the Mother?”

  “No. I know the elementals,” he said.

  Here, he could reach the nymid, the draasin, and even ara. Likely golud was here. That meant spirit—the Mother—would be found here as well.

  But how? Was there anything Tan could do to help her reach them?

  “The Mother only comes…” Amia started, but another convulsion cut her short.

  This one lasted longer. With it, she struck her head on the stone. Tan swept his arms beneath her, protectively.

  What had she been about to say?
When would the Mother come?

  A sound came from behind him and he turned. Jishun the archivist stood at the edge of the shaped garden. Now Tan understood the other Amia mentioned.

  He stared at Tan, studying him. A dark smile flickered across his face.

  With him stood the fire shaper. She carried a small bowl of slick black obsidian, similar to the one he’d seen in the caravan wagons. They stared at Tan, watching him.

  Tan noticed the long, silvery object in the Jishun’s hand. The artifact.

  Draasin! I need you!

  He sent the thought with a sharp focus, directing Asboel where he needed him to go.

  Asboel hesitated a moment. Tan understood why: what Tan asked meant returning to where he’d been trapped for centuries. But if Asboel didn’t, the youngest would suffer. Incendin might reach the source. All of this, Tan sent through his connection to the draasin.

  Asboel screamed down to the ground and landed at the edge of the barrier, touching his massive talons to the ground. Heat rose from his back, forming the barrier of fire.

  Asboel fought against another attempt at shaping. Tan felt what the archivist tried, felt the soft push against Asboel’s mind. He forced more of his focus through the connection with Asboel, wrapping tightly around his mind.

  Asboel roared. The sound filled the mountain, echoing loudly.

  The fire shaper sneered at him and narrowed her eyes. She set the obsidian bowl onto the ground. With a flash, she sliced her hand and blood dripped into the bowl. Steam rose where it touched. A bright flame erupted.

  Tan didn’t want to learn what she shaped. Dark energy radiated from the bowl, power he felt deep within his body. He shivered.

  The pillars needed to be formed or they would reach the pool. And then… could they reach the Mother?

  Tan could not allow that. Whatever else he did, he needed to protect the Mother so he could save Amia.

  He sent another thought, this rolling from him like a wave.

  Nymid! The pillar!

  Nothing happened at first. Then water slowly burbled up, spilling over and forming the pillar.

  Would ara hold as well?

  Ara! Please help the son of Zephra again!

  He let the thought go on a wispy breath of air.

  Wind fluttered, slowly turning into a translucent pillar, once again holding.

  That left only golud.

  Tan had never spoken to golud, but to form the protection here, he would need golud to help hold it, give him time to somehow call the Mother to help Amia. But how?

  Tan was able to speak to the other elementals. Would he be able to speak to golud? And if he could, how would he do it? Each elemental had a different way of speaking. With the draasin, it was harsh and hot. With the nymid and udilm, there was a sense of movement, like that of waves rolling. And with ara, it had been more like a plea to the subtle touch of the wind elemental. How would he speak to golud?

  The archivist and the fire shaper pressed against the incomplete barrier. The barrier held, but Tan sensed it wouldn’t last for long. If another shaper joined—or worse, a warrior—the barrier would fall.

  And then lightning streaked into the mountain. Thunder chased it. A warrior came.

  As the blinding effect of the lightning faded, Roine stood on the other side of the barrier, looking from Tan to Jishun. For a moment, Tan thought Roine might attack him. A shaping built quickly—coming as a sharp jab of pressure—and then a look of pain crossed Roine’s face. In a flurry of shaping, he pressed an attack on the barrier, using a mixture of earth, wind, and water, joining with spirit and fire already attacking.

  The archivist had shaped Roine. And now he attacked.

  “Fight it, Roine! Protect yourself from what he does!”

  Had he not needed to focus on reaching golud, he would have tried helping Roine as he’d shaped Asboel. Even that might not work. He had no connection to Roine, not as he did to the great elemental.

  Roine opened his mouth. Anguish twisted his face.

  “Theondar—” The archivist said his name with a heavy shaping.

  Roine’s eyes went flat, the resistance in his face disappearing.

  The attack on the barrier intensified and it began to fall.

  In desperation, Tan sent a call to golud.

  He had been sensing since he was a child, learning how to sense earth from his father, a powerful earth shaper. The earth and sensing flowed through him more naturally than any of the other elementals, in spite of the fact that he spoke so easily to the draasin. And Tan had shaped earth, had seen it respond to his requests. Now he needed another response.

  Would golud answer?

  Please help, golud. Form the fourth pillar. Protect the Daughter.

  It came out in a rumble, like the earth itself moving.

  Slowly—almost too slowly—golud answered.

  Tan sensed it more than heard it. The voice of golud shook him, vibrating through his bones. Golud did not speak like the draasin or nymid, did not move like ara, but there was a sense of movement, of great strength and focus.

  As golud slid into place, the barrier formed in full.

  Tan sighed. The barrier would hold. When they had come for the artifact, the draasin had already abandoned it. This had been the reason the nymid armor allowed him entry. Now, the pillars formed the barrier in full.

  Even with all the elements pressing, the barrier would stand. Except Tan would not be able to escape. He needed the pool of liquid spirit to return to help heal Amia.

  She convulsed again, and he held her. Thunder rolled, echoing loudly in the cavern.

  Through his connection to Asboel, Tan felt the barrier straining against the force of the shaping. It could not hold forever. If another shaper appeared, it might upset the balance enough.

  Thunder cracked loudly again. And lightning followed.

  When it cleared, Lacertin stood on the other side of the barrier.

  Tan’s stomach sunk with the sudden knowledge that they were doomed.

  CHAPTER 30

  Finding the Mother

  Tan couldn’t move. Lacertin’s arrival meant another shaper, and one who might be stronger than Roine, stronger even than when he had called himself Theondar.

  He carried a sword much like Roine’s and wore pants of a deep red leather with a black jacket buttoned tight across his chest. The power of his shaping built as he stood looking around them.

  Of course he would be here. He worked with Incendin, had aided the lisincend as they tried reaching the artifact. Roine had driven him back, but he hadn’t been killed. Now that Incendin had the artifact, how would Lacertin use it?

  Tan waited for his shaping to join the others in attacking the barrier.

  Instead, Lacertin stood, looking from Roine and the fire shaper to Tan standing inside the pillars. He stared at the draasin the longest, shaking his head slowly.

  And then he attacked.

  Lacertin’s shaping built sharply and with incredible strength. Tan grabbed his head, afraid Lacertin’s shaping would simply destroy the pillars that were keeping him safe for now.

  The fire shaper’s dark smile deepened and the pain on Roine’s face pulled his face into a tight mask. How violently must the archivist be shaping him?

  Tan tried reaching through the pillars, pushing a shaping of water and air around Roine, as he had with Asboel to protect his mind, but the pillars blocked him. Tan could do nothing to help his friend. And if he couldn’t, Roine would attack him as if he were the enemy.

  Even the archivist leaned toward the pillars, eyes fixed on Tan. Then the shaping released in a rush.

  Wind whipped suddenly, throwing Roine and the fire shaper off their feet. Lacertin shot into the air on a shaped cloud and sent lightning streaking toward Roine, who reacted, but almost a moment too late. He lifted his hands and diverted the lightning to the side, where it exploded behind him, and sent pieces of stone flying.

  Lacertin glanced at Tan and nodded at Amia. “Do wh
at you must. Save the girl, but keep her from reaching the source!” he said, pointing to indicate the Incendin fire shaper.

  With a sudden shaping, he streaked into the sky.

  Roine looked to Jishun, who nodded. Then he shot upward, after Lacertin.

  Tan frowned, staring at where the two warriors had been. In the attack, Roine had lost his sword. Now it rested on the stone, runes catching the pale shaper’s light.

  Had Lacertin just helped him?

  The idea seemed impossible, but what other explanations fit? How else to explain Lacertin attacking Roine and telling Tan to keep the Incendin shaper from the source?

  Unless Lacertin had another motivation.

  Fire pressed on the barrier, and Tan ignored it. With Roine gone, the barrier would hold longer. He had more time before the shapers would make it through, but he should hurry. How much time would he have before Roine or Lacertin returned?

  Tan turned toward where the silvery liquid had once formed the pool. Now he had to somehow figure out a way to draw the Mother.

  He didn’t have to. Thick, silvery liquid bubbled from an opening in the ground, spilling around and filling the pool. Tan stood back, amazed at first, but then realized what Amia had been about to say.

  The Mother only comes…

  The elementals. That had been the key.

  They formed more than only the barrier. The elementals summoned spirit.

  Amia didn’t move. The last convulsion had weakened her to the point where she now remained motionless and limp in his arms. Tan looked at the liquid, knowing he had to get her into it, but not certain how. He had seen what happened when anything other than a spirit shaper touched it. How could he get her into it safely?

  The Daughter…

  This came from the nymid, jarring him.

  She must reach the Mother.

  He nodded. Will your armor protect me?

  It was the draasin who answered—with laughter that filled his head. You are clever, Little Warrior, but you can be foolish.

  Tan frowned and looked over at the draasin, who blinked.

  He quickly pulled Amia’s clothes off, remembering how she had gone into the pool nude the last time. His breath caught when he saw bruises on her stomach and angry welts on her arms. What had they done to her?