Chased by Fire (The Cloud Warrior Saga Book 1)

by D. K. Holmberg

  “You mean roinay,” Tan said, repeating the word as his mother had said it.

  Roine smiled again and shrugged, not offering an explanation.

  Tan looked out over the lake. The pull of Amia’s shaping still drew on him. “What of Theondar?”

  “Theondar?” Roine said the name comfortably and with a wistful tone. “He is gone, lost to the world almost two decades ago.”

  “But you’re Theondar.”

  “No,” Roine said, his tone firm. “No longer. Once I claimed that name. Once I thought I could shape the world.” He shook his head. “Years grant wisdom, I think. Now I’m no longer him. Just Roine. That is enough.”

  Tan didn’t push, though wished he knew more. “The lisincend feared another shaper,” Tan said instead, changing topics. “When you came, they thought you were someone else.”

  Roine turned to him, eyes growing more alert. “How’d you hear this?”

  “I was in the water then,” he answered. “Moving to try and save Amia. When the wind came in, the lisincend said they smelled someone, smelled the shaping. Then the rain came and they were surprised.”

  Roine looked to the sky and his eyes went blank. He sat motionless like that for a long moment before opening his eyes again and staring at Tan. The sudden tension that had surged through Roine seemed to ease.

  “What did they mean?” Tan asked.

  Roine shook his head slowly before answering. “I hadn’t expected this. You’re certain?”

  Tan nodded.

  “There have been rumors,” Roine began. “A warrior, though not of the kingdoms. One who’s never made his alliances known. I’ve long wondered if he could have sided with Incendin.”

  A warrior. What was the name he’d read in his mother’s book? “You think it’s Lacertin?”

  Roine’s eyes widened. “How is it that you know this name?”

  Tan hesitated before answering. “My father,” he said. “There were letters he sent my mother. I…I don’t think he meant for me to see them.”

  Roine tilted his head and his face wrinkled. “He mentioned Lacertin in the letters?” he said, speaking the name distastefully.

  Tan nodded. He didn’t want to say what else the letters said.

  Roine fell silent for a moment. And then he sighed. “Once,” he began, straightening his back and looking out across the water with a distant expression, “there were twelve of us. Twelve Cloud Warriors. We served the kingdoms as the king commanded. There had not always been this twelve. There had been more, many more, long ago, but something changed. A connection lost. The scholars have never been able to learn why.”

  He took a deep breath and looked over at Tan. “Lacertin may have been the most powerful. He was certainly the most ambitious. We served the kingdoms, always at the direction of the king. Yet Lacertin did things his own way, defying the king in subtle ways.” Roine shook his head. “I suppose we all did to a certain extent. Probably why we overlooked his faults. For they were faults.

  “And then Genan died. The first of the twelve lost. Lacertin and Genan had been fighting off an invasion of the Talin riders to the south when Genan was lost. Lacertin was never able to fully explain what happened. There were many who wondered, even then. It was only later we realized we should have pressed Lacertin further.”

  Roine fell silent, his eyes unfocused, as he worked the meat over the flame. After a while, he motioned to Tan and handed him a chunk of steaming meat. Tan took it wordlessly and chewed it slowly, savoring the taste as his stomach rolled with hunger. They ate in silence. Roine saved meat for Amia, who still slept, her breathing slow and easy.

  Tan decided to ask the question then, uncertain how Roine would react. But knowing that he was Theondar, he needed to know. “What happened to Ilianna?”

  Roine looked away, but there was a pained expression to his eyes, still fresh and raw after all these years. “I had everything to do with her death,” he answered softly.

  Tan felt shocked. He’d thought Theondar innocent. “Then why did Lacertin leave the city?”

  “Lacertin,” Roine spat. “We should have exiled him long before.” He turned back to face Tan, his eyes welling with restrained tears. “I couldn’t protect her. I should have suspected him. I knew he had ambitions, and I should have protected her.” He stopped and took a deep breath.

  “I’m sorry,” Tan said.

  Roine looked at him and sighed. “We’ve all lost much, Tan. Some wounds never fade.” He turned to the fire and Tan thought that would be the end of it. “Ilianna didn’t have to die. That’s the worst part for me. All he wanted was the heirloom.”

  “What was it?”

  Roine shook his head. “Only the women of her family knew. It was passed down through the years. I still don’t know why Lacertin wanted it. I’ve never been able to learn.”

  “I’m sorry,” Tan said again.

  Roine offered him a weak smile. “How could you have known? So many years ago, yet I feel it and see it like it was only yesterday. If only I’d been there when he attacked, it might have been different.”

  “Could you have stopped him?”

  Roine shrugged. “Lacertin was always a powerful shaper, perhaps more than Theondar.”

  “Now?”

  Roine shook his head. “I’m no longer that man.”

  Tan didn’t say anything more.

  Slowly, Amia started to awaken. She looked up at Tan and met his eyes. “How?”

  Tan wasn’t sure whether she spoke or whether he heard her question in the same manner he heard the nymid speak. “You’re awake.”

  Amia pushed herself up, propping against the log as she huddled near Tan. She pressed one hand up to her face, brushing the hair away before looking at Tan and seeing his badly damaged shirt hanging in tatters from his chest. “How?” she asked again.

  Roine watched them both. He handed the remaining meat to Amia and she took it carefully, smelling it for a long moment before taking a tentative bite.

  Roine walked over and sat facing Tan and Amia, staring at him as if suddenly seeing him for the first time. “How did I not notice?” he asked, reaching out and fingering Tan’s shirt. A calloused hand brushed the tattered remnants of his shirt away and he looked at Tan’s slightly pink chest. “What happened here?”

  Amia looked from Tan to Roine, chewing slowly as she did. “I saw the blast Fur aimed at you. You should not have survived.”

  Roine’s eyes widened. “Fur did this?” He leaned and smelled the edges of the shirt. “That should have killed you.”

  Tan hesitated. For some reason, he was reluctant to speak of the nymid, uncertain they wanted their secret revealed. He suspected that they were water elementals, and powerful enough to heal him. More than that, they had been nothing but helpful, saving his life and providing a means of saving Amia’s life, as well.

  “Tan? How is it you survived what should have killed you?”

  Tan looked from Roine to Amia. She watched with a question in her eyes. He felt a soft pressure and Amia frowned briefly and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she nodded.

  Tan looked out toward the water. The soft reflection of the sun almost made it seem to glow. Would the nymid care if he shared their secret? They wanted Amia saved, likely helping him only so that he could rescue her. But how would they feel about Roine knowing about them? Or Theondar?

  “I shouldn’t have survived,” Tan finally said. “I was thrown out into the lake, and sank, and was rescued by creatures of the water.”

  Roine’s face tensed. “What kind of creatures?”

  Tan paused, feeling another moment of hesitation. Would the nymid care? If only he could speak to them, could hear how they felt about him sharing their secret. Tan didn’t have the energy to try and communicate with them and wasn’t sure whether they would answer this far on shore.

  But they wouldn’t care if Amia knew of them. He would just have to trust Roine. “They called themselves the nymid.”

  Amia s
tared at Tan, a strange curiosity and a hint of recognition upon her face, but she said nothing. Her eyes flickered out to the lake, looking from the water and then back to Tan, all while wearing a strange expression.

  Roine had a different reaction. “Nymid? How do you know that name?”

  “They told me.”

  “You spoke to them?”

  “I didn’t really speak to them. I think they communicate with thought.” Tan worried for a moment that Roine did not believe him.

  Then Roine stood, pacing to the edge of the water. He knelt there and touched the water, swirling a finger through it. “None have seen the nymid in centuries.”

  Tan felt surprised. “You know of them?”

  “They are water elementals. They are old, thought to be nearly as old as the great elementals, and powerful. I understand now how you survived.” He stared out into the water, a wistful expression upon his face. “I still don’t know how you spoke to them.”

  Elementals. At least that much confirmed what Tan suspected. “Why?”

  Roine stared out into the lake. “Few have the ability,” he began. “Once, when others knew the nymid, the ability to speak to them was a gift seen only in the most powerful—”

  He cut himself off, not finishing his thought. He turned from the peaceful water of the lake and looked carefully at Tan, watching him intently. “No matter,” Roine decided. “What matters is that they healed you. I wish I knew why.”

  “They wanted me to save Amia.”

  She smiled at him with a hint of amusement though did not appear surprised. “I wish I could thank them.”

  “I can try,” Tan offered.

  “It won’t work outside the water,” Roine said.

  Tan frowned, remembering the attack. Had he been in the water when he called to the nymid, asking for help? He didn’t think he had, and wondered whether that was important.

  “How were you able to penetrate the barrier?” Amia asked.

  Tan remembered the cage of fire and the strange armor the nymid had given him. He could think of no other word for it. “The nymid helped.”

  “The nymid healed you and they helped save Amia?” Roine asked, obviously surprised.

  “They healed me to save the Daughter,” he answered.

  Amia’s smile deepened.

  “You were attacking when I reached the shore. After I killed the hound, I couldn’t get near enough to Amia and called to the nymid. They shaped me some sort of armor,” he said, wondering if he still wore it. “It let me to tolerate the heat to save Amia.”

  “You called to them. And they answered.” Roine looked as if he did not believe.

  Tan nodded. “They helped another time, as well.”

  Roine waited.

  “When you were fighting Fur. During the second wave. The nymid helped.”

  Roine looked out to the water again. “That makes sense,” he admitted. “I was nearly spent and would not have been strong enough to finish Fur. But why would they help?”

  Tan shrugged. “They called the lisincend ‘Twisted Fire,’” he said.

  Roine snorted. “Twisted Fire?” A strange smile came to his face. “Fitting. It suits them.”

  Tan looked over the lake before turning his attention to the mountain rising overhead. They were nowhere near the mountain pass—the reason he’d left Nor with Roine to begin with—and now he was even more tightly tied to what the king wanted. After everything he’d been through, that should bother him.

  Amia sat with her hands holding her head, chewing the strip of meat. She’d lost as much as him. Possibly more. And for no reason other than Incendin wanted more power.

  And then there was Roine. How much had he gone through over the years? Whatever happened with Ilianna still troubled him, even years later. Yet he still served the king. Just like his mother even after losing his father.

  He sighed. “What now?”

  Roine looked at him and seemed to understand the emotions working though him. “We still need to reach the artifact. Fur was slowed, but he’ll come again.”

  “Even if we reach it before him, what makes you think we can escape with whatever we find?” Tan asked.

  Roine’s eye twitched. “We just have to get to it first.”

  Amia pointed down the valley, along the trail of her shaping. How much farther before they reached it? If Fur escaped and followed them, how much longer would they be able to outrun the lisincend? The hounds?

  Roine cleared the remains of the fire, carefully burying it. Then they all stood and started down the shore of the lake. The sun overhead was warm and comfortable and a softly blowing breeze drifted across the water and down through the valley.

  Tan watched Amia as they walked. She showed no emotion, but Tan didn’t know how she could feel anything other than loss, the same emotion he struggled to suppress. Maybe once they found the artifact they’d be able to mourn.

  They stopped a few times, once to eat and another simply for rest and drink. They drank freely from the water of the lake and found it cold and invigorating, and were able to continue onward with faster steps after each stop.

  When the sun dipped below the horizon and the moon began to peak above the trees, Roine readied them to stop. Tan was thankful for the break and ready for rest. From what he sensed, they were barely halfway along the length of the beach and probably another day’s walk until they reached the end.

  An explosion thundered through the valley far behind them followed by a roaring cry.

  Roine sighed. “We shouldn’t rest yet.”

  “What was that?” Amia asked.

  “That was Fur. He is free.” The fatigue in his voice was clear. The effort of the search drained him more than he admitted.

  Tan shivered, wondering what would happen the next time Fur reached them.

  27

  Tracking a Shaping

  They walked through much of the night, crashing late, with the nearly full moon that had been lighting their way now slowly dipping out of view in the night sky. The air was crisp, cool, and each breath was visible. The lake lapped quietly upon the shore, soft murmurs that almost seemed to speak. A faint glowing slid across the middle of the lake could be reflected starlight, but Tan chose to believe the nymid still watched.

  Tan caught Roine looking at the lake, his features slack, before shaking his head. Tan suspected he reached out to the nymid, trying to sense them, to speak to the elementals. And they didn’t answer.

  He wondered how it was that he could speak to them. Why had the Great Mother gifted him with that ability?

  Another thunderous roar split the night, echoing around them. The sound came as they crossed a small stream. There had been dozens of similar streams, some wider than others, that fed into the lake, and they were forced to wade through this stream rather than jump over it. A plume of flame shot high into the sky, briefly lighting the night like the lightning had the night before. A call for help, he suspected, though wondered if that were true.

  It was not much later when he heard the harsh, painful call of the hounds. At least half a dozen different cries echoed through the valley. He listened for them, sensing the trees around them, but couldn’t tell how many hounds prowled the forests.

  When they couldn’t walk any further, Roine motioned toward a natural shelter where the trees pressed against the waterline, leaving branches exposed, arching up and over the ground, forming a shelter. Inside, the ground was dry and firm, almost as if the rain from last night had missed this spot of land.

  Tan plopped down next to Amia. She looked at him and smiled and he stared into her dark eyes, unable to look away. She held his gaze and then slid herself back, resting her head on her arm and staring at Tan before finally closing her eyes. Her breathing slowed almost immediately.

  “You should sleep, as well,” Roine said. “I will take watch.”

  Tan looked up at the warrior standing under the woody arch, staring into the night. “You need it as well. You well rested is mo
re important than me.”

  Roine looked back at him and slowly smiled. “You think so?” He turned to stare at the night again. “I can get by on little sleep. I suspect that you can’t. Not yet. Rest while you can.”

  Tan didn’t have the strength to argue. Lying next to Amia, he drifted quickly to sleep. He dreamt of faintly colored creatures swimming around him. He felt safe, watched, and when he awoke, there was the memory of distant conversation in the back of his head.

  It was dark when he awoke and Roine still stood in the same spot, staring into the night. Tan moved quietly, careful not to disturb Amia, and stood next to Roine. His eyes were closed though he opened them as he approached.

  “Good. You’re up.” He didn’t turn but tossed a dark bundle to Tan. “Try this.”

  Tan grabbed the bundle from mid-air and shook it out. It was a shirt, dark green like Roine wore, and the fabric was soft, supple. Tan touched the large hole in his shirt from the blast that should have killed him, running his finger along the singed edge fibers, and decided to pull the shirt Roine gave him overtop the one he wore. Luck, perhaps. Or something else.

  “Thanks.” Tan rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He still felt tired, though felt better for the small amount of sleep he had managed. “You should rest now.”

  Roine shook his head. “They near.”

  Tan didn’t need him to explain who he meant. Instead, he closed his eyes as Roine had done and let his focus wander as his father had taught him years ago when first learning to hunt. He felt along the water’s edge to the trees, listening for any disturbance. Down the shore, within the trees, and closer than he would have expected, Tan sensed the void. Lisincend.

  Opening his eyes, he nodded. “We should go then,” he agreed.

  Roine frowned at him. “Your mother thought you just a senser.”

  “An earth senser.” Tan shrugged. “Not very strong. And usually not very useful. Helps with hunting, but not much else.”

  Roine chuckled. “Weak? Great Mother, if you think that’s weak, then I’d hate to think what you consider strong. I have to focus most of my energy to learn what you gathered in moments.”