There was only one way to get her into the pool, and had it not been Amia, he might not have tried.
Tan quickly tore off his clothes and set them to the side. If he survived, he wanted something to cover himself with.
And then he lifted Amia, girding himself as he stepped carefully into the silvery pool.
He gasped when it touched his legs, swirling around him.
Pain flooded through him, filling him. Tan staggered, almost falling. Seeing Amia, he pressed on. If he fell—if she didn’t make it far enough into the pool—she might not survive.
He took another step. The liquid swirled around his thighs.
Pain ripped through his body, beating at his mind. The shaping made of water and air that he’d been holding in place crumbled. He felt his mind exposed and raw. That meant the archivist would be able to attack. Nevertheless, he took another step.
Now the pool was up to the middle of his chest. Pain burned through him one more time, washing over him like a wave, and then was gone.
He blinked and tilted Amia, slowly lowering her into the liquid. She didn’t move, didn’t make any sign that she knew what was happening. When the liquid reached her chin, she gasped and fell forward, sinking beneath the surface.
Tan dove after her. The liquid consumed him, rolling over him, and flashes of light and color swirled across his vision. For a moment, he thought he could sense everything in the world, that if he opened his mind, he could understand everything. His hand touched Amia’s and he grabbed, pulling her back toward him.
She squeezed back.
In that moment, they were united in a way he’d never known. Different than the connection they had shared from their shaping, different than how he understood Asboel. Tan saw the shaping that caused her convulsions, a twisted film of darkness swirling through her mind, and gently removed it with a shaping that seemed guided by another presence. Once that shaping was gone, she gasped again, sucking in a mouthful of liquid. As she did, he sensed another source of pain from her and understood the headaches she’d been experiencing. They were not from shaping him, but from a twisting of the shaping worked on the youngest. The shaping had been changed, Amia’s intent had been turned, twisted with a dark intent and used to control the youngest. With a thought, he untangled the twisting of the shaping, releasing the youngest from the pain of the dark shaping.
Go, Enya, he sent, knowing then her name. Rejoin Asboel in the hunt.
He felt the young draasin stir and rise, no differently than how he felt Asboel. She seemed to blink, realizing her release. With a flick of her tail and a quick beat of her wings, she took to the air. Through her eyes, Tan saw the mountains as they disappeared beneath her.
Through the thick, silvery liquid, he felt Amia. She turned to him, pressing her warmth against him. He could not see her but felt her presence, the sense of her as clearly in his mind as if she stood before him.
Tan held her for a moment. That moment could have been infinite. Within the pool, anything seemed possible.
He turned his attention to Asboel, knowing what he needed to do.
She is healed.
Asboel roared appreciatively within his mind. Perhaps not so foolish.
Go. Join her in the hunt.
If I go, this protection will fall.
Tan sent a sense of reassurance. If you stay, the Mother remains.
He understood now. Before, the artifact held the pool in place even after the draasin were freed. If the archivist and the fire shaper reached the pool—if they returned the artifact here—they would have access to the Mother, to this source.
Asboel sent his frustration. I will go. For now. You will survive and I will find you.
Is that a command?
Asboel sent a sense of amusement tinged with worry. Maelen.
It was all he needed to say.
With a roar, Asboel took flight. He circled the inside of the massive cavern briefly before erupting into the sunlight, rising high into the sky and streaking after Enya.
Tan hesitated a moment more, enjoying the pressure of Amia against him, and then took a step forward.
The liquid pulled away from him. The level in the pool dropped as well, quickly disappearing back into whatever reservoir stored the source of the Mother.
Their heads emerged.
Tan looked at Amia. She blinked at him and then smiled. “How did you know?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t know.”
She pulled him toward her and wrapped her arms around him, unmindful of her nudity or the fact that shapers trying to harm them stood paces away. “You risked yourself for me?”
“Did I have a choice?”
Her eyes widened. “The shaping?”
Tan laughed and kissed her on the mouth. She kissed back. “Not the shaping. I would risk everything for you. I don’t need a shaping to tell me that.” He looked over toward Jishun. “Can you defend yourself?”
Her eyes narrowed and she nodded. “Now that I know I need to. I hadn’t met another spirit shaper outside the Aeta. What are you going to do?”
Tan looked beyond the pillars. He saw the fire shaper first.
Her eyes stared at the fading pool of liquid. The fire burning in her obsidian bowl streaked upward. One hand pressed into the flames, pushing it outward so it encircled the pillars. Whatever strange power she worked pressed against the elementals and he felt their pain. They fought, but they would not last for long.
“The archivist shaped the kingdom shapers,” Tan explained. “Roine…”
She nodded.
“Can you free them?”
Amia tilted her head. “I don’t know. Possibly.”
“We need to stop them first.” He nodded toward the fire shaper and the archivist.
“How?”
Tan shook his head and grabbed his clothes, quickly pulling them on. Could the nymid armor help somehow? It might protect him long enough to stop the fire shaper, but that left the archivist. He’d already harmed Amia. She thought she could protect herself, but the archivist had more practice. If he managed to shape her again, now that Asboel was free, Tan didn’t think he could summon the Mother again.
As Amia dressed, he looked at the elementals. Ara strained, flicking with agitation. Golud held but rumbled softly, leaving the ground trembling. And the nymid fought, but the force of the dark shaping was nearly more than they could bear.
They could not withstand the shaper, not with whatever darkness she used to augment her shaping. It would be up to him.
Tan looked over at Amia. “Be prepared for—”
He didn’t get the chance to finish. Wind whistled into the cavern, coming in on a funnel. Thunder rolled somewhere nearby. An earth shaping pressed upon him. And fire burned. The kingdoms shapers had come.
Amia looked at him, eyes wide.
“Free them from the archivist’s shaping,” he said.
Amia focused, a shaping building. “It will take time.”
“Release Ferran first.”
She frowned and nodded. Her shaping built steadily.
Tan let her work, turning to the elementals. He needed enough time for what Amia needed to do. If they could hold a little longer, he might have enough time to even the odds.
Please, hold on.
He sent the request three times, to each of the elementals. He felt a surge of steadying strength from each in reply.
Earth rumbled, rolling toward the archivist.
Amia had freed Ferran.
“We need a fire shaper too,” he yelled.
Her shaping built.
The Incendin fire shaper glanced from Amia to the archivist. Her eyes twitched as understanding of what Tan and Amia attempted came to her. With a flash of a hidden obsidian blade, she slashed across the archivist’s wrist. Blood spurted from him and his eyes went wide. She moved on a finger of flame, pulling the bowl toward him to catch his blood. Flames licked higher into the cavern as his blood joined hers in the bowl.
Sh
e grabbed the artifact from the archivist’s hand.
Tan’s heart stopped for a moment, catching as he stared at it.
The shaper plunged the artifact into the bowl. The archivist reached for it, but the fire shaper held his hand in place. Fire streamed through the artifact, drawing away from her shaping against the elementals. The archivist screamed. The fire shaper roared.
And a shaping built.
Tan felt it building unlike anything he’d ever felt before. Wind whistled into the cavern, growing louder and louder. Fire and earth mingled, pressing against the swirling chaos.
Protected by the barrier, Tan and Amia were kept safe, apart from whatever shaping happened on the other side.
“I can’t find a focus,” Amia said.
The shapers battled. Tan saw none of it; too much debris scattered around, but he felt the shaping worked by the Incendin fire shaper. Darkness worked within it. It mingled her fire and spirit from the archivist, somehow pulled through the artifact into a shaping she forced upon herself.
With a flash of understanding, Tan knew what she did.
There was only one reason an Incendin fire shaper would turn a shaping upon themselves. She wished to serve fire more intimately, twisting with it. She sought to become one of the lisincend.
“Tan—” Amia seemed to come to the same realization as him.
“Focus on Roine. If he returns, we will need to free him from the archivist’s influence.”
Amia stared at him with worried eyes. “What are you going to do?”
“What I must.” With that, he sent a thought to each of the elementals. Thank you.
Ara slipped away on a flurry of wind. Golud rumbled, fading back into the earth. Only the nymid lingered.
Twisted Fire.
I will do what I can.
Twisted Fire used the Mother.
Tan frowned. The artifact? What did she do?
She seeks to become Fire, but she is Twisted. Careful, He Who is Tan.
Then the nymid disappeared, flowing away with the water, streaming toward the lake.
The barrier fell.
Tan ran toward Jishun first. He didn’t want to risk a spirit shaping while trying to deal with the fire shaper.
He needn’t have bothered. Jishun lay on the ground, pale and cold, as if all the blood had been drained from him. Eyes stared blankly. The silver ring, the mark of the Athan, circled one finger.
The artifact was gone.
Tan slipped the ring off Jishun’s finger and stuffed it into his pockets. He turned from the dead archivist and looked for the fire shaper.
She stood only a few paces from him, transformed.
The shaping had burned the clothes from her, leaving her naked. Skin that once looked youthful and smooth was now leathery. Her eyes had peeled back and her lips thinned. Her arms had twisted. She roared, and leathery wings peeled from her back.
A satisfied smile stretched across her face, twisting her mutated features. She clutched the artifact in one hand.
Tan backed away and nearly tripped on something. Tan backed away and nearly tripped over something: Roine’s sword. He grabbed it and held it in front of him. The runes along the blade glittered.
The fire shaper hissed.
He understood what she had done, but not how she had done it. The shaping had turned her into something like the draasin, leaving her even more twisted than the lisincend.
He understood what the nymid had said. The Incendin fire shaper sought to become fire and used the artifact—shaped out of spirit itself—to do so. The foulness of what she’d become burned at his senses. What would have happened had she reached the pool of spirit?
Heat pressed with rapid violence toward him.
Without thinking, Tan pulled on the connection to Asboel and used his knowledge to absorb the shaping. The heat filled him, leaving him with a raw, pained sense.
The fire shaper—the lisincend or whatever she now was—roared at him again. Her voice filled the cavern, echoing off walls.
A blast of fire struck toward him.
Tan couldn’t react in time. Even were he able to somehow absorb it like he had the last, he wouldn’t be fast enough.
Stone rumbled and rose from the ground, deflecting the shaping.
Golud? Would it help without him asking?
Tan looked over to see Ferran facing the fire shaper and understood. Not golud, but a Master shaper, restored to himself.
Another section of the stone pushed up, rolling toward her.
Thick wings caught the wind and she lifted into the air.
She circled, testing out her new ability, and then fire shot from her mouth, scorching toward Tan and Master Ferran.
He looked over at Tan, a pained expression in his eyes. Tan didn’t need for him to speak to understand that Ferran couldn’t do anything against this type of fire.
Wind whistled through the cavern, catching the twisted lisincend and tossing her against the rock. A funnel of wind raced up from the ground, catching the fire and throwing it back toward the lisincend.
Tan looked over to see Alan sliding toward him on a cushion of air. His face twisted in concentration and sweat pressed from his brow. He was another shaper Amia had freed.
With more time, she could free the others. And then the odds would be even.
But the fire shaper turned her attention to Amia. She stood near where the pillar of water had formed. Some residual of the nymid still swirled through it, but not enough to protect her. The lisincend swooped toward her, fire coughing from her mouth.
Tan dove toward Amia, grabbing her and rolling her under him to protect her from the flames that pressed toward them. He pushed out with Roine’s sword and screamed. A shaping surged through it, catching the fire.
The lisincend roared again.
If Tan needed any more proof he could be a warrior, holding—and using—a warrior’s sword was it. He rolled, pulling Amia with him. Somehow, he needed to get free. If only he hadn’t sent Asboel away, but the draasin had already done enough to help. Without the fire elemental, Tan would never have reached the place of convergence, would never have known what the archivists planned, and would never have saved Amia.
But with the fire shaper’s transformation, they didn’t have enough strength.
Tan tried a shaping, but he couldn’t focus well enough to succeed. Wind wouldn’t answer and there wasn’t enough water for him to do anything useful. He did not think fire would succeed against a twisted fire shaper.
Lightning streaked into the cavern again, followed by a painful clap of thunder.
Tan hazarded a glance up. If Roine returned, Amia might not have enough time or strength to free him. And then the shapers would truly be outnumbered.
It was not Roine.
Lacertin hovered on a shaping of wind. Thin whips of wind and water streaked from his hands, catching the lisincend and twisting her in the air.
She shot fire at him, but Lacertin ducked it.
“You are a servant of Incendin!” she screamed.
Lacertin shook his head. “I serve no one but myself. I have never hidden that fact.”
She shot a lance of flame at him. The heat pressed upon Tan, burning him as he rolled.
Lacertin somehow trapped the flame, and it extinguished. “I admit my time spent in Incendin had its uses. Not the least learning from your fire shapers. But they lack for creativity.”
She snarled and dove toward him, her wings folding as she did.
Lacertin flipped his wrist and streaked toward the top of the cavern. The lisincend chased him.
And then another bolt of lightning streaked into the cavern with a thundering boom.
Roine stood before them. He stared at Tan, at the sword in his hands.
Tan pulled Amia behind him.
Stop him!
Her shaping built sharply. “Theondar!” The word came with a snap.
He blinked and looked at her with uncertainty. “I—”
A shapin
g built from him directed at Tan and Amia.
“Theondar!” she snapped again. Her shaping came with more power and urgency. It shook Tan’s bones and washed out from her in a flood.
Roine fell to his knees. He trembled for a moment, looking much like Amia as the shaping had overwhelmed her mind. Then it faded. Roine collapsed.
Tan reached toward him, but Amia held him back.
“Careful. I can’t tell if the shaping was successful. The archivist was more skilled than I realized.”
Tan patted her hand. “I have to know. It’s Roine.”
Amia smiled tightly. “But he’s also Theondar.”
Tan swallowed and hurried over to Roine. The warrior’s chest rose and fell slowly. Tan touched his arm lightly.
Roine’s eyes opened and flickered over to him.
Tan stiffened, uncertain whether Amia had successfully shaped him or if he was still under the archivist’s influence. “Roine?”
Roine took a deep breath and looked around. “Tannen.” He turned and fixed his gaze on Amia. “Amia. You shaped me.”
Amia nodded. Tan felt her building a shaping, as if preparing for the possibility that Roine hadn’t fully been restored.
“Thank you.”
Tan sighed, relieved. He reached a hand out to Roine and helped him to his feet. “The Incendin shaper used the archivist and the artifact.”
“Used for what?”
Tan pointed toward the ceiling. Lacertin darted on his shapings, attacking the shaper. She flew, lunging, using her hands like claws to twist and bite at Lacertin.
“Lacertin helps,” Tan said.
Roine frowned. “Lacertin helps only himself.”
“Right now, that means helping us.”
Roine sighed. “Then I need to help Lacertin.” The disgusted tone of his voice told Tan everything about how he felt. “I’ll need my sword.”
Tan handed it to him and Roine frowned. He shook his head slightly. With a streak of lightning, he shot toward the ceiling. He joined Lacertin in attacking the Incendin shaper.
At first, she held them off, but they worked together, a memory of a time when warriors danced in the skies, keeping her focus divided. Each shaping pressed harder against her, inching closer to overwhelming the protections even her augmented shaping offered. Much longer and she would fall.
Bound by Fire (The Cloud Warrior Saga Book 2) Page 24
