Changed By Fire (Book 3) (16 page)

He wasn’t sure how to ask the question he needed to have answered.
What did I do? How can I keep it from happening again?

None are meant to draw the power of the Mother within them.

I only tried to protect those I care for.

The Daughter. The Eldest.

Tan nodded. His head ached, but less than it had before.

He had vague memories of the anger working through him following the transformation, but he remembered what he had done, how he had simply destroyed the Incendin shapers.

We would not have restored you otherwise.

Tan swam in place, letting the water pull on him. There was a certain warmth to it that tingled across his skin. Shame worked through him at what he had done—and what he had nearly done. Could Amia ever forgive him?

What am I?

The nymid seemed amused by the question.
You are He Who is Tan.

I am not a shaper, not like those of the kingdoms.

The nymid’s face twisted. Tan couldn’t tell emotion from the nymid, but there seemed a sense of confusion.
You are the one the Mother chose. And you are needed.

It was Tan’s turn to feel confused.
The Mother?

Water pressed upon him and he slid against something soft, sticking him in place.

Sand.

Light filtered through the water. His chest started to burn, but differently and in a way he had felt before.

He sat up and pierced through the water’s surface. Bright sunlight shone down on him. A slow current pushed against him, rocking him back and forth. He turned, noting a shore on either side. Whatever river he had drifted into emptied into the vast expanse of the ocean far downstream.

Tan dragged himself out of the water and sat along the nearest shore, staring at the water. He tucked his knees against his chest, letting the cool breeze dry him, pulling goose pimples out onto his skin. He shivered and smiled as he did.

He dipped one foot into the water, making a connection to it. Pale green swirled in the water, nothing like the bright concentration of nymid he’d seen while still underwater.
Thank you, nymid
.

Their response came slowly and quietly.
No thanks are needed for one who serves the Mother.

Tan inhaled deeply.
I will serve.

He had no idea how, but he would serve.

D
aylight had faded
by the time Amia found him.

She touched his shoulder, waking him from a dreamless sleep. A cautious smile pulled at her mouth as she did. “Tan?”

He sat up. His body ached and he stretched, trying to pull the stiffness from his muscles. His skin still felt raw, but not like it had when he had transformed. “You found me?”

She handed him a roll of fabric. He took it and shook it open. A cloak. Not his own—that had burned when he nearly transformed—but one of the Aeta, and made of a thick green fabric. Tan pulled it around him, thankful for its warmth.

She touched his arm hesitantly at first, but then she pulled up against him and kissed him. “The udilm healed you.”

“Not the udilm. The nymid.” He motioned toward the river. “The udilm wouldn’t restore me. I must have been carried here by the current.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m not sure what would have happened had I not made it upstream.”

Amia stared at the water for a moment. “The river runs into the sea. You shouldn’t have been pushed up the river.”

Tan watched it and realized she was right. “Maybe the udilm helped some.”

The connection between them felt as it had before fire transformed him. Amia hesitated. “I didn’t know if it would work.”

“Thank you for trying.”

She turned her face up so he could see that tears welled in her eyes. “You were so different. I… I didn’t know if I could save you.”

He pulled her against him, hugging her tightly. “But you did. Had you not believed I could be saved, fire would have…” He trailed off, uncertain how to finish. What would fire have done? It had changed him, twisting within him, but it was more than that. He had felt strength and power that he didn’t feel now. Fire gave him that.

Now… now it was lost. He was nothing more than he had been before. Possibly less. Without the ability to shape easily, what was he?

Amia rested her head against his shoulder. “You are Tan. You are enough.”

She had heard his thoughts.

He sighed. “What now?”

“The First Mother planned to go to Ethea. You saved her twice. For that, she agreed to help the king.”

“I need to find Roine and Lacertin. They fight Incendin and—”

Amia shook her head. “Leave them to their fight. You have many skills, Tan, but you nearly lost yourself. You…” Amia stepped away from him and met his eyes. “What would you accomplish by going? What would you do the others could not?”

What would he do? He couldn’t battle the lisincend, not like Roine. Had fire still consumed him, still worked through him as it had, he might have had a chance, though the lisincend had served fire for longer than he could imagine. And after what had happened, he feared fire’s pull. What would happen were he attacked by another fire shaper? Would he manage to protect those he cared about without drawing fire into himself, without twisting it like the lisincend did?

More than revenge for what the lisincend had done to him, he knew there was another task for him, one that was more important. “I need to protect the draasin.”

Amia’s breath caught. “How?”

“I don’t—”

Soft laughter interrupted what he was about to say. He tried again, this time to rebuke Amia, but it didn’t come from her. Concentrating, he realized it came from…

Asboel.

Maelen.

A warm gust of wind swirled over him. Tan looked up to see Asboel drifting to the ground on a quick flap of his wings. Golden eyes studied him and seemed to see through him.

Amia jumped back. “Did you know he was coming?”

Tan turned back to look at Asboel.

You were damaged,
Asboel told him.

The nymid restored me.

Asboel snorted. Steam streamed from his nostrils.
So I have heard.

I am sorry.

Asboel lowered his head until he met Tan’s eyes.
You still have not learned what you have done, have you, Maelen?

And what have I done?

We are bonded to each other. It happens rarely. Few bond with the pure spirits. Impure frequently bonds, though I think that has not happened for many years.

What does it mean that we’re bonded?

Asboel snorted again.
Only the Mother knows. There is always some purpose. Mine is likely to protect you. Yours would be to explain what has changed in the millennia since I last hunted these lands.

Tan didn’t think that was his only purpose. The nymid had seemed interested in him protecting the draasin.
I haven’t explained anything that has changed.

Asboel tipped his head back.
You have explained Twisted Fire. That is enough for now.

They are a danger to you. They seek to serve fire in your stead.

Fire would not allow them to serve.

Tan wasn’t so certain. After feeling the effect of fire as it worked through him, fire didn’t seem to care who served, so long as it was allowed to burn. The difference for the draasin was their control.

Why did you come?

You were in danger. When udilm sent word…

You came for me?

You are like the hatchlings with your questions.

A vision of the other draasin came through the connection he shared with Asboel. Through the vision, he saw the two eggs Asboel had clutched in his talons had been set onto a heated stone. The other draasin—the female, though Tan didn’t know her name—perched over them. Days or weeks passed and then the eggs began to crack. Two small lizards crawled from the eggs.

Hatchlings? They are safe?

What would happen if Incendin discovered the hatchlings? Would they try to twist them and shape them into something they were not? Would they try and destroy their elemental connection?

And what did it mean for the world that the hatchlings existed? Amia’s shaping would not be in place for them and, if what he suspected about the shaping was true—that Amia had only managed to shape the draasin because they were in a place of convergence so close to the Great Mother—there would be no way to duplicate it. The draasin would be free to hunt as they pleased, guided only by Asboel.

How long before the draasin became the hunted once more?

Asboel twisted and his tail twitched.
The hatchlings are well cared for, Maelen.

Twisted Fire—

Will not harm them.

Tan wished he could believe that to be true.
They have taken those who can shape spirit.

This time, Tan sent an image of the Aeta, pushing to Asboel what had happened when the Aeta attacked, how they took the Brother and others of the Aeta able to shape spirit.

There is one who fears enough spirit will enable Twisted Fire to accomplish what they seek.

Asboel seemed to frown and dipped his head toward the ground.
I do not fear them. Do not fear for me.

Tan met Asboel’s eyes. In them, there was great experience and power, so much that Tan couldn’t imagine the depths of what Asboel understood about the world. Yet he did not understand the lisincend—particularly the twisted lisincend, Alisz.

I cannot help but worry for your safety. That is my burden with the bond.

Asboel stared at him for long moments, his tail twitching.
Then we will hunt them together.

There seemed a weight to the comment that Tan didn’t fully understand. Perhaps it had to do with Asboel offering to hunt with him, or maybe it was the acknowledgement that he didn’t fully understand the lisincend.

He turned to Amia.
The Daughter must return to Ethea.

Amia glared at him. “No—I will go with you.”

Tan frowned. “How much of that did you hear?”

She pressed her hand against his chest. “I hear you clearly. More clearly than ever before. And there is another who answers, though the voice is distant and faint. There is something else,” she started, frowning at Tan. “I’m not sure how much I fully understood.”

“He wishes for me to hunt the lisincend with him.”

Amia’s eyes widened. “You can’t… you were just healed by the water elemental and now you want to run back to attack the lisincend? What happens if you draw in fire again? Will the nymid save you again?”

“They have to be protected. I can’t let the lisincend attack.”

Asboel lowered his head to meet his eyes. The massive spikes on his back steamed slightly in the cool air.

The Daughter speaks truly, Maelen. You are barely healed from the transformation. Twisted Fire can wait. Grow stronger. Learn. Then we can hunt.

Tan clenched his fists.
There isn’t time—

Asboel snorted.
Time? I have spent a millennia trapped beneath the ice. There is always time.

But Twisted Fire!

Asboel looked from Tan to Amia. Ancient knowledge shone in his eyes, more wisdom than Tan would ever know.
Come, Maelen. I will return you to your home.

T
an sat atop Asboel
. Amia sat behind him, gripping his shoulder. She would not—or could not—touch the spikes on Asboel’s back.

Wind whistled past him. Translucent faces of ara occasionally flashed by and Tan studied them, wondering if he would ever speak as easily to ara as he did to Asboel. Mist swirled around them as Asboel flew, practically shrouding the draasin in a fog. It reminded Tan of the smoke hanging over Ethea, the remnant of draasin fire.

Amia clutched his shoulder but said nothing. Asboel said nothing either, guiding them quickly toward Ethea.

They crossed over high, peaked mountains. Far below were thick green pine trees rolling over the mountains. It took a moment to realize they flew over Galen.

Asboel claimed he took Tan home, but Galen had been Tan’s home. Ethea was no more home to him than Nor could now be. He had no real home, but at least he had Amia. And once his mother returned from Incendin, he would have a semblance of a family again, especially if he could find Elle.

Amia squeezed his shoulder and slipped an arm around his waist. “Did you feel it?”

He craned his head around to see her and frowned. “Feel what?”

She stared down toward the ground. Her brow furrowed as she studied something distantly. “As we crossed into the kingdoms. Did you feel it?”

Tan blinked, slowly understanding. “The barrier.”

Amia nodded. “We should have felt it when we passed into the kingdoms. Always before, I feel it like a tingling on my skin. I didn’t know if it was different when flying.”

Tan thought about what he’d felt before when traveling with Asboel. When he crossed the barrier on Sarah’s—his mother’s really—shaping, he had felt the tingling. And then when returning to the kingdoms with Asboel, he had felt it again. This time, he felt nothing.

The barrier had fallen.

T
an held
onto one of Asboel’s spikes and leaned toward the ground. He stretched out with earth sensing, listening as his father had taught him years ago. Even then, he had felt the barrier, though he hadn’t always known what it was he sensed. Over the years, its presence had been a comforting thing. When he stretched out through the forest around him, he could reach the barrier and stop, knowing nothing dangerous could reach him with it in place. Ever since the hounds had crossed over into Galen, that had changed. The barrier was still there, but the sense of safety had disappeared.

Now, even the barrier was gone. What did it mean that it fell now? Lacertin had been instrumental in creating it; did he know that it had fallen? Would he know what it meant that it was gone?

We must hurry, Asboel.

The draasin’s tail twitched.
Now you wish to return home?

Through the connection, Tan pushed through what he could sense of the barrier. Doing so was difficult. Putting words to a concept like sensing and shaping—especially of one of the elements the draasin couldn’t use—felt nearly impossible. Instead, he shifted it, turning it into something the draasin could appreciate and drawing on his experience changed by fire to do so.

He sent Asboel the sense of heat glowing along the border, and then removed it, as the barrier no longer existed.

I am familiar with this creation. It does nothing to hold back the draasin.

It was not meant for the draasin. It was meant to hold back Twisted Fire and ones like it.

You fear that it is gone?

I fear
why
it is gone.

Asboel snaked his head around so one golden eye could look at Tan. When he straightened out, his wings flapped with more intensity.

They raced through the sky. The fading sun fell beyond the horizon, the sunset prolonged by their flight. Amia held tightly to him. Worry drifted through the bond between them.

“Where do you think they will go?” he asked.

“If Incendin lowered the barrier, they could choose to attack anywhere,” Amia said.

“They have attacked twice in the last few months.”

Amia tensed. “And both times in the same place.”

“That’s what I fear as well.”

We need to go to the source of the Mother.

Asboel twitched. Having been frozen in the lake for a thousand years left him anxious about returning.
That is not home.

No, but Twisted Fire will seek to return there. They have the artifact.

A spurt of flame came from Asboel’s nostrils as he snorted.
They cannot reach the Mother. They cannot call the others.

And if they could?

Asboel snorted again, this time with frustration.

We should know for sure,
Tan sent.

Asboel twisted and banked, turning them away from rolling hills, veering instead back into the mountains. The air gusted against them, blowing cold and biting against Tan’s cheeks as they flew faster than before.

“He fears why Incendin would go to the place of convergence?” Amia asked.

Tan nodded. “You and I know that there is something about the place that gives it power.”

The lake appeared below them, a smear of glittery silver moonlight shining from below. It seemed they had only just come from this place and were now returning. And why must it be here? Why did everything happen in this place?

Asboel dove toward the lake, descending rapidly. With a tip of his wings, he turned them toward the mountain cavern, swooping past the lake and quickly into the mountain itself.

Tan shivered. Each time he came to this place, something changed for him. The last time he had been here was when the fire shaper transformed. The time before, they had rescued the artifact. What would happen this time? How much would change for him now? Could he prevent anything from changing?

Asboel landed on the hard stone with a brief flutter of wings. Nothing but darkness surrounded them.

Amia formed a shaping and faint light bloomed from hidden shapers lanterns. Dust swirled around them from Asboel’s landing and the air smelled musty and bitter. The shaped trees and grasses that once filled the cavern had begun to wither. Tan wondered if the elementals had once fed the shaping. Now that they were gone—now that the elementals no longer formed the pillars creating a barrier that protected the artifact—did the shaped creation die?

Tan leapt from Asboel’s back. Amia climbed carefully down. They looked around but saw no sign of the Incendin.

Tan stretched out with earth sensing. There was nothing else within the cavern. “How long ago did the barrier fall?”

“It was intact when we left. I felt it as we passed through it.”

“How long has that been?”

Amia’s brow furrowed as she considered. “Two weeks?”

Could it really have been only two weeks ago he had been in Ethea? What had happened to his mother and Roine in that time? Tan wished he shared a connection with them as he did with Amia. At least then he could know what happened to them, he could know if they still lived.

“Long enough,” Tan said.

“For what?”

“If Incendin planned to return, they would have enough time to reach this place. Wherever they’re attacking, it’s not here.”

“What if they haven’t reached it yet?”

They couldn’t stay here, not if the lisincend planned a return. The lisincend weren’t here now, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t come at all. Tan had every reason to believe this was where they would attack. And if that was the case, they needed to do something to stop them from being able to reach for the Mother.

His being here—
Asboel’s
being here—put that at risk. If Incendin needed to draw on all the elementals to call the liquid pool of spirit, then having the draasin in this place put that at risk.

Unless they had another way. Tan had no way of knowing whether Incendin had figured out a different way to reach for that pool of spirit. If they had, he would need to block it somehow.

He would need to send the elementals away.

The small stream running through the cavern burbled. Tan touched a foot to the water. Cold water swirled through his boot. He sucked in a quick breath.
Nymid!

He waited.

Amia watched him. “You think to call the Great Mother again?”

The temptation was there. When he had stepped in the pool of liquid spirit, he had known more about the world than he had ever imagined. He felt a part of it, connected in a special way, as if he were an integral part of that world, rather than simply someone it acted on. As if he mattered. While in that silvery liquid, he had known Amia, had shaped spirit to free her from the effect of the archivist’s shaping. He would give anything to return to that sense of knowing. Perhaps then he could understand shaping, could learn what the Great Mother intended of him.

But now was not the time.

“I need to ensure she cannot return here,” he said.

Asboel stayed silent. Tan didn’t know if the draasin agreed with what he planned or not. He didn’t doubt the great fire elemental understood what he did. If Asboel were captured—if the archivists or other spirit shapers tried to use the draasin—Tan might be forced to use his connection to the elementals and draw spirit forth once more. He couldn’t take the risk, not if there was something he could do about it.

Nymid. Twisted Fire may return. This place becomes dangerous. They will seek the power of the Mother.

A flickering sensation came at the back of his mind.

The nymid answered, soft and faint.
The Mother must be protected.

This place is no longer safe.

The nymid sent a quiet assent before receding. The water running through the cavern gradually slowed before stopping altogether.

Be ready
, Tan said to Asboel.

The fire elemental snorted.

With a rolling, rumbling sort of speaking, he sent word to golud. The earth elemental was hardest for him to communicate with, a fact he always found strange given that he was an earth shaper first.

This place is no longer safe. Twisted Fire comes.

At first, nothing happened.

Then the ground began slowly rumbling. Slowly, the rumbling expanded, moving from the ground to the walls. The sound was a painful, heavy thing that shook deep within his bones.

Maelen?

We should go.

You ask golud to destroy this place?

Then Twisted Fire can no longer use it,
Tan said.

“You convinced the elementals to depart?” Amia asked.

Tan turned, feeling guilty about the imminent destruction. So much effort and shaping had gone into into its creation that seeing it destroyed felt wrong in some ways. Its purpose had been served. The place of convergence would be lost, but perhaps that was only right.

“The nymid left. Golud chose to destroy this place. I suspect they will depart when it falls.”

Asboel lowered his head so Tan could climb atop and reach out to help Amia. Once settled, she squeezed him around the waist, again refusing to grab one of Asboel’s heated spikes.

The draasin leapt skyward, toward the opening in the cavern, as the ground continued to shake. Walls of the massive cavern began crumbling, stone spilling out and around as it collapsed upon itself. They reached the open peak of the cavern as stone from this part of the mountain began falling, dropping into the space below.

Asboel pulled higher, climbing into the sky. Tan looked down to see the entire mountain collapsing inward, spilling dirt and dust from destroyed stone into the air.

He sighed. Now he would never be able to again stand in the pool of liquid spirit, never feel the connection offered her, the sense of knowing he had while there.

There are other such places, Maelen.

You know of them?

Of course.

At least he had not destroyed the only place of convergence. With Asboel’s help, they could find another if needed. Hopefully, Incendin could not.

Asboel twisted, flying over Galen and toward Ethea.

Fatigue caught up to him and he drifted, resting his head upon Asboel’s spikes—the heat not bothering him as it did Amia, trusting the draasin to carry them where needed. Amia held onto him and leaned into him after a while. Her body felt warm and comfortable. As strange as it seemed, sitting atop Asboel gave him a sense of home. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed that sense before now.

Maelen
.

Tan shifted, blinking open his eyes. Through the darkness, he could not easily see where they were, but his earth sensing told him they neared Ethea.

You should not bring us all the way to the city.

Asboel twisted his head so that one golden eye studied him, practically glowing in the night. He blinked and then started down, bringing them toward the ground.

Amia stirred behind him and squeezed him tightly.

“Are we here?” she mumbled.

Tan took her hand. “How long will it take the First Mother to arrive?”

“From Doma? Weeks, probably.”

Tan breathed out a sigh. Weeks. Too long if the king remained shaped by the archivists. Too long if his mind remained twisted toward whatever their end goal had been.

As they landed, Asboel twitched. His nostrils steamed more heavily as he tasted the air.

What is it?
Tan asked.

Something is not right. I must return.

Tan used earth sensing but didn’t find anything unusual. He jumped off Asboel’s back and helped Amia down. Strange tension worked through the draasin.

Asboel turned to Tan, eyes glowing in the night.
You will be safe.

It was a question as much as a statement. Tan sensed nothing unusual and nodded.
I will be safe.

Asboel snorted again.

I may need your help again.
Tan thought of the fallen barrier, not knowing what its fall meant. Depending on what he found when they reached the king, he might need to search for Roine and Lacertin to warn them about the barrier.

Then I will come. Do not make me fear for you, Maelen.

Tan smiled. Could the draasin actually
care
for him, or was it simply some effect of the bond?
I’m sorry you needed to come. I will not make the same mistake again.

No. You will make different ones.

With that, he leapt into the air, his massive wings catching the soft breeze and lifting him high into the night sky. He disappeared behind a wispy cloud.

The connection to Asboel didn’t fade. Tan held onto it, letting the sense of the elemental fill him. He might not be a shaper like his mother or father, but that didn’t mean he was powerless.

He turned toward the soft glow of Ethea. Amia took his hand and a shaping built as they started walking. After a moment, she paused, head tilted slightly.

“What is it?” Tan asked.

“I… I don’t know. There is something different about this place since we were last here.”

He wondered if it was what Asboel noticed, but the draasin hadn’t said anything more about what he sensed. Had it been worrisome, wouldn’t Asboel have commented on it? Unless he hadn’t known what it was he sensed.

Tan remained on edge as they walked toward the city. The soft glowing became gradually brighter the closer they came. They crested a small rise, and the city was laid out in front of them. Lanterns and small fires burned in a few windows; nothing like the massive flames that once threatened to overwhelm the city.

Tan started forward but Amia held him back. He threw a frown over his shoulder at her.

She inhaled deeply, moonlight shining off her skin, and a shaping built from her steadily, growing stronger as it grew. When it seemed it could not get any stronger, she released the shaping, sending it sweeping toward Ethea.

“What was that?” he asked.

She ignored him and tipped her head as if listening.

Moments passed. Tan thought she heard nothing. Then she gasped.

“I hadn’t thought to sense for it before. I should have, but we were with Roine and then we found your mother—”