Changed By Fire (Book 3) (7 page)

Cianna stared and then ran over to it. She touched the surface of the saddle and turned to him, a smile on her face. “Can you intensify it now?”

Tan focused on the heat and called for it to increase.

Smoke quickly drifted up in response.

Cianna nodded. “If you can do that, if you have control like that, then you can make other shapings more easily.” She touched his shoulder, her hand lingering as she did. “Keep practicing. Next time, we can work on more complex shapings.”

She started toward the door to the practice yard and paused, looking back. “Most take a long time to learn any sort of shaping. You learn quickly. I think you might be able to be a powerful fire shaper in time. Now. Time for me to see what Seanan has done since I left him. Probably pissed I haven’t come help rebuild our wing of the university.” She waved. “See you next time.”

After she left, Tan stared at the leather saddle for a long while. She thought he could be a powerful shaper, but why did he have the sense that he wasn’t doing any shaping at all? The shapings he made were different than what Cianna created, regardless of how they looked.

What if he wasn’t shaping anything? What if what he did came from the elementals rather than himself? And if that was the case, how would he ever learn enough to help Lacertin stop Incendin?

T
he smoke hanging
over Ethea left pockets of clear air. Tan made his way through the streets, not really certain where to go for the night. The master shapers all had a place at the university. Roine likely would stay at the palace with the king. Through his connection with Amia, he sensed she still shaped, though it was a soft and gentle sort of shaping, nothing with much strength. Hopefully she could free the king from his shaping.

And then what? Was he ready to leave Ethea and follow Lacertin into Incendin?

Tan sighed. What he needed now was rest. The room he had stayed in when last in Ethea was gone, destroyed by fires, but there was a place he knew he might be able to sleep, a place Elle had shown him before they left Ethea.

Moving through the city proved difficult. Crews of men wearing the king’s colors worked diligently to clear the mess of debris and burned buildings, blocking the street in many places. None bothered to more than glance at him. In other places, the streets were impassable, rubble forcing him to climb over or work his way around, always aware of how shaped fire simmered beneath him.

Few other people were out on the street. There were those dressed in rough clothing, some singed and torn, likely without much of a place to go now that parts of the city had been destroyed. Then there were others, still dressed fairly well, hurrying through the streets. They all wore brightly colored scarves around their faces to protect them from the smoke.

Tan shook his head when he saw the scarves. He didn’t remember seeing anything like that the last time he had been in Ethea. It seemed an entire fashion had sprung up since the attack, but only for those able to afford it.

He wondered how he appeared to everyone else. Still wearing his heavy cloak and stained from travels, he looked more like the now homeless.

Tan weaved through the streets, troubled by what he’d learned of shaping from Cianna. He should be happy—he’d finally found someone willing to work with him to understand shaping—but instead, he felt uncertain. The way he shaped was different than what Cianna did, and different enough that he wasn’t sure he would be able to learn anything more from her.

Orange light flickered from around a corner. Sounds of shouting and a few screams rang out. Tan hurried toward it.

Flames crept up the wall of a nearby building, slowly consuming it. A woman stood in the street, bent over with her hands on her thighs, head tilted as she stared at the fire. Dark soot smudged along her cheek. One side of her face was reddened.

A man crawled from the building, flames engulfing him. The stink of burning flesh gagged Tan. He needed to stop the flames.

He tried pulling heat from the flames around him, but the fire didn’t answer as he called. There was the seductive pull of it begging him to release it. Tan resisted, ignoring it.

Fire would be no help.

Could he use wind?

He called to the wind, quickly asking it to press down around the man. Nothing happened.

The woman looked over at him. Tears streamed down her face, creating patches in the soot on her cheeks. “Help him!” she cried.

Tan rolled the man, trying to smother the flames, hoping his ability to shape would protect his hands from injury. The man screamed as he rolled him.

“What happened?” Tan asked.

No one else came into the street. Either they were gone or no one was willing to help.

The woman shook her head. “I don’t know. No fires had come through here before. Our home was safe!” She finished in hysterics, crying loudly. “Jayna is still inside!”

Rolling him had slowed the flames, but the fire had been shaped and would not be easily put out. Without being able to reliably shape, there was nothing more he could do.

“I’m sorry.”

“My daughter,” the woman said. “He was trying to reach her—”

Tan looked over at the fires. Heat radiated outward, pressing painfully against him. Even when he’d ridden on Asboel, he hadn’t been aware of the heat. What did it mean for him to be aware of it now?

He wouldn’t be able to get inside the building, not without ending up like this man.

Whatever shaping still held in the city had flared. If this was draasin fire, there was little Tan would be able to do.

A scream, high-pitched and panicked, came from inside the building.

Tan turned quickly. The girl, Jayna.

He started forward without thinking. As he did, he drew in on a wind shaping, praying ara would answer.
Protect me
, he demanded of the shaping, not certain whether he shaped or whether the elementals helped. Pressure built as he surged through the first line of flames.

Heat pressed on him, almost knocking the wind out of him. He held his breath and pushed forward. Bright orange and yellow flames snaked across a wooden floor, working up stone walls. Cracks formed in the walls and the stone crumbled slowly, giving an ominous groaning sound. Much longer and the building would collapse.

He focused on the stone and tried to push out with an earth shaping to hold it intact. He felt the pressure of a shaping but couldn’t be certain it worked.

“Jayna!” He said the name and let it out on a shaping of wind.

Thankfully, the shaping worked. Jayna cried nearby.

Tan turned, stepping through another line of fire. The wind shaping dragged the flames away from him, keeping him from being burned. Smoke still clogged his throat, searing his lungs with each breath. Strange the shaping didn’t protect him from that.

He found her lying crumpled on the ground in the next room. A table rippled with fire and the remains of chairs had collapsed near her. Blisters formed on her cheeks and much of her hair was charred, leaving her with a jagged appearance that reminded him of Elle.

Flames pulled on him, begging for him to feed them more energy. Tan pushed away the urge. He scooped her off the ground. She moaned with the movement but didn’t move otherwise.

He pressed out with the wind shaping, wrapping her inside it like a blanket of air. It smothered the smoldering flames along her clothes and skin. She cried out again, but softer this time as she tried to take a breath but coughed.

Tan ran through the fire to the front of the building. The groan coming from the stone sounded louder and then the wall started to collapse.

Hold!
Tan rumbled the demand.

He had a moment where he knew the command would take.

Each command—each shaping—drained him. After working with fire throughout the afternoon, he had little strength remaining.

Tan shouldered through the door and stumbled into the street.

Another woman stood consoling the woman now. A man crouched next to the burned man but not closely, as if afraid he would get burned.

The first woman saw him emerge and ran over to him. She reached for the girl but the shaping kept her back. Another flash of panic crossed her eyes. Tan released the wind and handed the girl to her mother.

“She will need healing. Possibly shaping,” he said.

“Shaping?”

“Water shaping could heal her.”

The woman laughed in a high-pitched sort of way. “Where I am to find a shaper? If I go to the palace and demand it from the king, you think he’d send a shaper out to me?”

Weakness left him irritable. “Yes. Tell them Tan sent you. Ask for Roine.”

She looked at him as if he was mad. Possibly he was. Why should one of the Athan help this woman?

Another woman ran forward to help lift Jayna. Tan shook her away. “Go! Run to the palace.”

The other woman looked from Tan to the burned girl before nodding and darting off.

Tan took another step and stumbled again. Someone lifted him under his arms and pulled him to the other side of the street. He heard a snapping sound, like that of thousands of branches breaking, as the building collapsed in a blast of stone and smoke. Debris scattered all around.

Without thinking, he pushed out with the wind shaping, sweeping forward.

The debris bounced off his shaping, held back by the protection he—or ara—had created.

Heat pressed on him and flames surged. Without thinking, Tan drew the flames through him, pushing it through his connection to the draasin, letting the elemental absorb the fire.

The effort of the shaping was more than he could tolerate. Tan leaned forward and drifted to sleep.

H
e awoke
to someone shaking his shoulder.

Tan looked blurrily around. Flames still flickered on the other side of the street, but they were lessened, now simply smoldering rather than burning brightly. Heavy smoke drifted over the street. The stink of burning flesh still lingered.

He turned to see Roine leaning toward him and felt the shaping he worked, but didn’t have the energy to sense what he shaped. Tan wasn’t certain he would even be able to sense it with Roine.

“What happened?” Roine asked.

“Did you help her?”

Roine glanced behind him before looking back at Tan. “I did.”

Tan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I wasn’t sure you would come.”

Roine stood and laughed. Relief flashed across his face. “A woman said a shaper named Tan demanded Roine’s presence. What choice did I have?”

He shifted. “I never told her I was a shaper.”

“You run into a burning building and come out without any sign of injury. What else would they think you were?”

Tan grunted, and it turned into a fit of coughing. When it subsided, he looked to Roine. “How is she?”

“She should be fine. Her burns were easy enough to heal, but she breathed in too much smoke. There’s only so much I can do for it.”

“And the man? What of him?”

Roine reached toward him. “I’m sorry, Tan.”

He took a deep breath and looked away. He hadn’t been able to help, not when it mattered. Before, he had relied on Asboel to help, or for Roine and then Lacertin. Even Amia helped more than him. But when he
needed
to shape, he hadn’t been able to control it.

Would he ever learn how?

“What is it like when you shape?” he asked.

Roine pulled his attention back from the street. With a soft shaping of wind, the smoke lifted. The woman crouched near the dead man, cradling Jayna in her arms as she sobbed. One hand smoothed down her daughter’s damaged hair. The other hand gripped the fallen man.

“The same as you, I imagine,” Roine answered. He turned back to Tan. “Why do you ask?”

“Where does the shaping come from?”

Roine reached out a hand and helped Tan to stand, smiling as he did. “You a scholar now, too?”

Tan struggled to stand, wiping his hands on his pants. His head throbbed again and fatigue tried to draw him back to the ground, where he could close his eyes, but he forced himself to stay on his feet. “Not smart enough to be a scholar,” he said. “But Cianna was trying to teach me fire shaping. As she did, I began to wonder where the shaping comes from. Is it the same shaping each of the elements?”

Roine nodded toward the end of the street. They started walking, passing the woman and Jayna. Neither looked up at them, staring instead at the fallen man and his burned and blackened flesh.

“Cianna tried to teach?” Roine asked as they neared the end of the street.

The smoke lessened here, a faint breeze blowing through, drawing it away. Tan couldn’t tell if it was shaped or not.

He debated telling Roine they had gone to the archives before deciding against it. “She wants to know about the draasin.”

“Fire shapers have always been fascinated by the draasin. They are so different than other elementals in many ways.”

“How?”

“Anyone can see them, for one.”

“You saw the nymid. I suspect you could see udilm, too.”

Roine smiled. “But golud? And ara? I can’t say I’ve ever seen those elementals other than at the cavern.”

“That was a unique place, Roine.”

Roine regarded him with a strange expression. “In many ways,” he agreed and led them around a corner. The road opened up. Evidence of damaged buildings lined both sides of the street, but the damage had been cleared, leaving the street clean and passable. Some construction had begun, and the scent of sawn wood mixed with the thick tar used to seal slats between boards. It was a welcome change from the stink of smoke everywhere else.

“Do you draw your shapings from within yourself?”

Roine turned and met his eyes. “Why do you ask? What does it feel like when you shape?”

“It doesn’t feel like anything. Some of the time, the shapings work as intended. Most of the time, they don’t.”

“When they do. What do you sense?” Roine asked.

Tan wasn’t certain how to answer. Did he explain that the only time shapings seemed to work for him were when he treated them as if speaking to the elementals? Most other shapers couldn’t speak to the elementals, so it seemed unlikely that he shaped the same way.

“I don’t really sense anything.”

Roine sniffed and nodded. “Perhaps you are still too early in your education. I should have taken the time to work with you—you deserved that much—but with everything that happened since our return, I never had the time.”

They continued down the street. Tan didn’t recognize this part of the city. No lanterns were lit, leaving moonlight as the only light by which to see. More people were out on the streets. Most were dressed with clean clothes and a colorful scarf swooped around their neck. They seemed to move away from the palace, but also away from the university.

“I teased you about being a scholar because scholars have wondered about the source of shapings for a long time. Most agree the shaping comes from within, the ability to tap the power of the elements something shapers are born with.”

“Is that what you think? Do you pull your shapings from within you?” Tan asked.

Roine frowned. “In a way. I’m not certain I’m even aware of where my shapings come from.”

Tan stopped along the street and turned to Roine. The walk had refreshed him. He still felt weakened, but nothing like before. The pain in his head had subsided. More than anything, the conversation left him more alert than before.

“Try a shaping,” he told Roine.

“Tan—you’re not going to solve the philosophical debate of shaping in the middle of the street.”

“Humor me, Roine. Perform a shaping, but slowly.”

Roine snorted and shrugged. “What would you like to see?”

“Anything but fire.”

Roine nodded solemnly, eyes flicking to the buildings behind them.

Tan didn’t want the buildings to ignite, but that wasn’t the reason he didn’t want to see fire. He had already seen how Cianna pulled fire from within her. What he wanted was to see how another shaper drew their shaping.

Pressure built as the shaping started.

The ground shook softly beneath his feet.

Tan focused on sensing the ground. As he did, he felt the shaping and how it rippled the deep layers of earth far beneath his feet. Nothing strong enough to damage anything, but enough for Tan to feel. He followed the shaping, tracing it back to Roine. Like with Cianna, it originated deep within him, only this time pressing out through him and into the ground.

“Satisfied?” Roine asked.

Tan nodded. “For now. Thanks.”

Roine laughed. “It’s not often any longer I’m asked to show off my shaping skills.”

He started forward again and Tan followed. Where did Roine lead him?

“Amia is still with the king?”

Roine shot him a look. He lowered his voice. “As I feared, Althem was shaped. And from what she tells me, the shaping is complex. She needs more time.”

“How much more time?”

“The Great Mother only knows. I pray she will be strong enough.”

They continued down the street, working their way through darker and darker streets. Tan did not recognize where they were, and his earth sensing didn’t give him answers, either. “Why earth?” he asked, breaking the silence.

Roine looked over and smiled. “You were an earth senser first. I thought that fitting.”

First. And now he could sense the other elements; he could speak to the elementals. What did that make him?

“Where are we going?” Tan asked.

“It was good you had me summoned,” Roine answered. “I needed to find you tonight anyway.”

“Why?”

Roine kept walking without answering.

“Roine?” Tan said. When he still didn’t answer, he asked, “Theondar?”

The old warrior turned and met his eyes. “There’s someone you need to see.”

“Who?”

“Your mother.”

Tan’s heart fluttered as he hurried after Roine. “She’s here?”

Buildings on either side of the street seemed to press in on him and a dizzying sensation raced through his head. Lanterns shining through windows seemed to blur around him as they passed.

Roine nodded.

“How do you know?”

Roine turned. “Either she’s here or a dead man left this marker in my quarters.” He held out a small circle of stone. Engraved on it was a single mark, a rune like on Roine’s sword. And like on the door in the archives.

“What is it?”

“Something from a long time ago.”

They hurried through the streets, turning onto smaller and smaller roads. Fewer and fewer people were out as they made their way through. Buildings pressed closer together, but the damage from the fires wasn’t nearly as bad as in other parts of the city. Most had nothing more than soot smeared across them. A few had broken windows that had been boarded over.

Roine stayed silent. Every so often, he paused and closed his eyes before snapping them open and changing direction. Tan chose not to bother him. Since learning from Lacertin that his mother still lived, he had wondered what he would say if he saw her again. Would he be angry that she hadn’t come for him when they ran from the lisincend? Or would he only feel relief that she still lived?

Finally, Roine stopped in front of a tall building.

“Is this it?” Tan asked.

Roine nodded. “This is where the connection ends.”

Tan frowned at him. “What sort of connection?”

Roine showed him the stone circle again. The rune on it had started to fade, but as it did, it glowed softly. “This is like the key for the artifact.” He lowered his voice as he spoke, pitching it so that his words didn’t carry down the street. “A shaping connects this to another. A shaper who knows the right shaping can use it to find the other.”

Tan eyed the stone. “How did you know she would be in the city? What if it had led you to Galen or someplace farther?”

“The mark tells the place,” he said and craned his neck up at the building. A stair led to a door built halfway up the building, as if the street had sunk over time.

Tan hesitated as Roine approached the door.

“Aren’t you coming?”

Tan swallowed. He wanted to see his mother, but after everything that had happened, was he ready to see her? What would she say about the things he’d seen in the time he thought her dead? What had
she
been doing in that time?

And part of him wanted Amia with him, more than simply for support. She had been with him for most of what had happened over the last few months. He may once have wanted—and needed—his mother, but now Amia was the person he shared his life with.

How would his mother react to the person he had become?

Finally, he started up the stairs after Roine. At the top, he examined the door. Made of a dense and heavily lacquered wood, it felt out of place with the rest of the street. Roine touched the door but drew back his hand as if burned.

The door shimmered and changed, fading into a dark iron.

“Still hasn’t lost her skill,” Roine muttered to himself.

He glanced at Tan before raising his hand. Using a shaping that Tan could sense, he knocked on the door.

It opened barely a moment later, as if the person inside had been waiting.

Tan gasped. The person on the other side wasn’t his mother. “Sarah?”

He hadn’t seen her since she helped guide Tan and Elle toward healing. Had she known his mother? If she had, why hadn’t she said anything to him?

She fixed him with furrowed brow and touched the corner of her eyes. Her auburn hair hung over her shoulders. Light from the street reflected off her pale skin. She wore a long, navy dress that hung to her feet.

“What is this?” Roine frowned, looking from Tan to Sarah. “You know her?”

Tan swallowed his surprise before speaking. “She’s the shaper who helped Elle and I. She’s the reason I ended up reaching the draasin.”

Sarah snorted. “You would have reached Amia sooner had you held nymid in mind more firmly.”

Tan blinked. “Amia? How did you know about her?”

Sarah smiled. A shaping built quickly, pushing out from deep within her. It swept over her, and as it did, she changed. Her hair darkened. Pale skin took on color. Piercing eyes stared at him.

Tan gasped again. “Mother?”