Broken of Fire (The Cloud Warrior Saga Book 9) (9 page)

“
H
e still hasn’t woken
,” Tan said with a whisper, studying Asgar with a worried eye. The draasin was in a massive cave on the rocky cliff not far from the cavern holding the draasin eggs. Tan hadn’t wanted to put him in the same cavern, not until he knew what had happened to Asgar, but at least this way, he was close enough that Tan could monitor him.

“He’s been awake,” Amia countered. She leaned on him for support. The attack had taken something out of her as well, though she wouldn’t let Tan see it. And he hadn’t been able to find anything wrong with her, only the weakness and unsteadiness.

“Not for longer than a few moments. He looks up at me with fear and sadness in his eyes, but he won’t speak to me.”

“Tan—”

Tan shook his head. “I need to know what happened to him and find out if there’s anything that I can do to help him.”

Amia rested her hand on Asgar’s side. The massive draasin took deep, laboring breaths and occasionally hissed steam, but more rarely than he should. His leathery wings were folded against his side, lying there as if now useless.

“Kota thinks that the old elementals might know what attacked him, but with all that Honl has studied, I figured he was the best resource I had.”

“But he hasn’t answered.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Not yet.” That troubled him. Had his connection changed so much that he could no longer even reach the wind elemental? Or was there another reason? He didn’t think that something had happened to the wind elemental—he still sensed a distant awareness of him—they couldn’t speak, which meant Tan couldn’t ask Honl to come and help.

“What will you do if he doesn’t? What if Sashari doesn’t know anything more?”

When Honl hadn’t answered, Tan went to the only other Old One that he thought might be able to help. Sashari made her way to them now.

“Then it will be up to me.”

“The Records—”

“None know how to read the Records, not really,” he said. “Or if they do, they’re not sharing with me. Besides that, many of those ancient runes were damaged.” He’d tried reaching Elanne, but the Mistress of Bonds had not answered. Either she ignored him—which was possible—or she hadn’t gotten the message that he wanted to speak with her.

Amia pulled her hand from Asgar’s side as a dark shadow filled the mouth of the cave.

Tan spun, readying a shaping, but saw only Sashari ducking her head inside. Cianna walked next to her, eyes squinting to adjust to the darkness within.

Can you reach him?
Tan asked Sashari.

He is within the bond, Maelen, if that is what you fear.

Tan wasn’t sure exactly what he had feared. Only that he hadn’t been able to reach Asgar and feared that something had pulled the draasin from the fire bond. If that happened, he wondered if he would be strong enough to push him back, or if he would always remain separated, as if torn from the bond.

Do you know what happened to him?
He sent an image of the attack, and what Tan and Asgar had needed to do to free him from it. Tan had refrained sending the image to Sashari sooner. The distance made sending through the bond more difficult. At least for him, through the fire bond, proximity mattered.

I have not seen this before,
Sashari said.

Would Asboel have known?

Maelen…

Would he?

He was the eldest of us, but even he might not have known. The draasin had nearly faded from the world when you brought us back. You serve the Mother returning the draasin, but even in our time, there were not many remaining.

Why?

I do not remember. The time… time has changed my memories. They are faded. I remember Asboel and Enya, but that is because we remained together. I remember the connection to the Mother, and the cold suppressing our connection to the fire bond. But there is nothing else, Maelen, until you released us.

The draasin rarely spoke of the time they had spent frozen in the lake. Tan was surprised that Sashari had mentioned it now. From Asboel, he knew that the draasin had suffered, though even that had been muted by time, as if the thawing had melted some of their memories of what they experienced while frozen within the lake. But he had thought that the draasin maintained more memories of the time before they were frozen. And maybe they had, once. Hadn’t Asboel mentioned that their memories had changed over time? Could that have been the bond?

Whatever attacked,
Tan said,
was nearly able to destroy him. You will need to be careful.

You defeated it, Maelen.

This time. What if it returns? What if it wasn’t the only one?

That had kept Tan awake during the nights that he had remained by Asgar’s side, hoping and praying that he would awaken once more. If there was something in the world that would attack one of the draasin, that
could
attack one of the draasin, they needed to fear it. But more than that, they needed to understand it. Only then could he know what happened.

Will you remain with him?
Tan asked.

That is why I have come.

What of his sister?

Sashari lowered her head and her lip pulled back in something like a smile.
She has claimed a name, Maelen. It is fitting for her. And she has asked you to fly with her before she will share it.

Tan actually smiled. That
was
good news. For the hatchling to claim a name meant that she decided that she was no longer a hatchling, she was draasin. She might continue to grow—the Great Mother knew that Enya had grown in the months since she had bonded to Cora—but she was no longer a child.

I would like that.

Sashari hissed steam and flames at him. Tan flinched, but they didn’t harm him. Sashari eyed him strangely.
Perhaps you should wait until you understand this darkness you have seen.

Sashari curled up next to Asgar. The way that she did, with her tail wrapping around him and one wing propped up over his back, almost as if she draped an arm over him, reminded Tan too much of how she had lain with Asboel during his final days. At least this time, the draasin wouldn’t die from the attack, but what about the next time? What if one of the weaker draasin were attacked? Asgar had grown strong and had faced other threats during his life. Would Sashari’s other hatchling manage as well? What of the hatchlings in the cavern nearby, or the precocious one who pulled at his heart in the estate in Par?

Maybe Kota was right. Would he never stop worrying? Would there always be something more, some other attack for him to worry about? And if that were the case, what were he and Amia thinking by bringing another life into this world?

“You should rest, Tan,” Cianna said, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked over at Asgar. A frown creased her brow and she drummed the fingers of one hand across her forearm. “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

He shrugged. “Maybe it has been days, but I can’t lose another one,” he said.

“Draasin? They’re powerful, but they’re not immortal. From Sashari, I sense they are aware of that, and comfortable with it. There’s only so much you can do, and I would be the first to tell you that you’ve done enough already.”

He shook his head. “Not just the draasin.”

“What then?”

Tan sighed. “I can’t lose another friend. Asgar is a friend. It hasn’t gotten any easier losing another.”

Cianna’s frown softened and she turned to him. “As it shouldn’t. Otherwise, it means that you’ve stopped caring. If that happens, you’re no longer the Athan or the Utu Tonah or the elemental whisperer that everyone is drawn to. You are the reason many of us continued to fight, Tan. You are the reason the
elementals
continued to fight.” When he shook his head, Cianna raised a hand to stop him. “Think about it. Would the elementals have resumed bonding were it not for you? Would the draasin have bonded not once, but
twice
more, and by choice? I do not think it’s coincidence. You bring… I don’t know… something like light to us, Tan.”

She patted his arm. “Get some rest. And then you can go after what you intend to do next. Whatever it is. From the look on your face, you already have something in mind.”

Tan studied Amia. She sat crouched near the entrance to the cave, staring out into the daylight. What would he do? The draasin didn’t have the answer he needed, and Honl wouldn’t answer. That left discovering it on his own.

If he couldn’t find Elanne, was there another he could ask?

* * *

“
Y
ou could have remained behind
,” Tan said as they floated to the ground in Vatten. The change to the air, the humid and salty change, was stark compared to the dry, hot air of Par.

Amia held tightly to his hand and shook her head. “You left me the last time you came here.”

“Because you didn’t tell me what you’d done.”

“You would have been upset.”

“I
am
upset!”

She patted his hand. “See? It looks like I made the right decision.”

Tan sighed. “Why did you keep the return of the archivists from me?” He had refrained asking up until now, not wanting to upset her, but now that they had returned to Vatten, and now that he would depend on what she had done—helping Roine return the archivists to their place of knowledge—a few answers were needed.

“Because we were leaving the kingdoms,” she said softly. When he looked at her askance, she went on. “We went to Par, and I saw how you had a purpose. When we remained in the kingdoms, after you stopped
him,
that was gone. You don’t see that in yourself, but
I
did.” She met his eyes and he saw her concern for him reflected there. Only a hint of it came through the bond between them, not as it once would have. “You needed to go. You needed to find what you were meant to do in Par-shon. And I needed to support you.”

“You used searching for the elementals to push me,” he realized.

When they had left Ethea, Amia had encouraged him to help find the elementals that needed him, and seek them out so that he could understand just what the Utu Tonah had done to them. She had encouraged him to understand the hybrid elementals that the Utu Tonah had created, and learn if there was anything that he needed to help them. And so far, Tan had only found a few. There were others—when he’d held spirit while defeating the Utu Tonah, he had
felt
them—but he had not found them again. And maybe that was for the best. After what the elementals had been through, after what was forced upon them, they deserved their solitude. In time, as they developed and connected more fully with the elements, they would come more fully into the world, but for now, they would be left alone.

“Like I said, you needed to go.”

Tan looked away. Had he been that difficult after they stopped the Utu Tonah? He hadn’t thought so, but then, he hadn’t really had much sense of purpose. Since learning that he could shape, he first wanted to learn enough to stop Incendin, and then, after learning of Par-shon, he wanted to do whatever he could to defeat them as well. Once he had… then he
might
have been somewhat despondent. Strange, considering all he thought he wanted was peace.

“Where are they?” Amia asked.

He had brought them to the same place where he’d found Assan when in Vatten before, but there was no sign of the archivist. “This was where they were,” Tan said.

Amia closed her eyes and a soft shaping built from her, with none of the pressure that he usually associated with her shapings. “Some remain,” she said, opening her eyes and pointing to the north.

Tan used earth and spirit sensing and detected what Amia had sensed. He should have done so on his own, without Amia needing to prompt him. With a shaping of wind and fire, he pulled them along toward the people they sensed.

The excavation had moved.

Nearly a dozen men worked, each digging at the ground, working under the guidance of Sani. Her dark hair hung loose today, cascading down her back. She motioned to several of the men to move, and they began working at the earth where she indicated, digging through the rock and dirt.

As they approached, Sani looked back. Her eyes narrowed. “Athan,” she said with only a slight nod to Tan. “And you must be the First Mother.”

“I am,” Amia answered.

“Where is Assan?”

Irritation flashed across Sani’s eyes. “The king summoned the archivist back to Ethea,” she said, the annoyance in her voice matching what crossed her eyes.

Tan glanced at Amia, and she shrugged. She’d been in Ethea more recently than Tan, but she’d been focused on the Aeta, serving in her role of First Mother.

“Why was he summoned back?”

“Storms! Do I look like I know the mind of the king?”

“You look like the person who’s directing this work,” Tan said carefully, not wanting to anger her further. “And if that’s the case, then I would think that Assan would share with you why he had to return.”

Sani’s expression changed and became unreadable. Tan was tempted to use spirit to find out what she might know, but decided against it. Spirit shapers using their ability like that were the reason the Aeta had been forced to wander all the years that they did. With them now open with their abilities—and with most knowing of Tan’s abilities—it wouldn’t do for him to spoil all the work that had gone into rebuilding the reputation of spirit shapers.