Chased by Fire (The Cloud Warrior Saga Book 1) Page 15

  “Theondar,” it hissed. “The girl. That is all. Then you may live.”

  Roine eyed the creature for a moment. “That’s all you want? Then you will leave my kingdoms?”

  Tan’s heart raced at Roine’s words. Would he give Amia to the lisincend? Tan wouldn’t allow it, realizing it a moment before hearing the echoing command in his head.

  Protect me.

  Amia clung tightly to him, trying to hide within the folds of his cloak.

  “Your kingdoms? You are king now?” The lisincend laughed, a dry crackle. “You have always wanted to rule Theondar.”

  Roine shook his head. “You have no idea what I desire, Fur. I would like to know how you penetrated the kingdoms.”

  The lisincend appeared to smile again. “You would.”

  Roine frowned and the lisincend crackled again with the strange sound that could only be laughter. “I can’t hand over the girl.”

  The lisincend hissed again. “Give me the girl. Now.”

  “Leave. Now.” Energy sizzled with the words, though nothing like Amia’s commands.

  “Then you will die. And I will still have her.”

  It raised its arm and a torrent of flame shot from its arm. Roine was ready and brought his own arm up. A surge of water shot as if from his palm. Roine raised his other fist, bringing it down, and the ground rumbled, nearly splitting at the feet of the lisincend. The creature started to stumble, righted itself, and then laughed again.

  “Weak, Theondar,” the lisincend hissed. “You spent too much on my hounds. And you have barely injured them.” A chorus of howls cried out in answer.

  Tan felt power building moments before he felt the heat that came with it. Roine’s eyes grew wide as he realized what the lisincend prepared.

  He had been played.

  He thrust one hand in front of him and another toward Tan and Amia. There was a surge of energy, much stronger than any Tan had felt before, building to a near ear-splitting level of pain. It stabbed into his skull like a knife.

  The pressure built until he could no longer take the pressure and pain.

  He felt it behind his eyes, through his head, and under his skin. It built so quickly that he trembled with the energy, more afraid than ever.

  He prayed for some kind of release.

  Roine looked over to him. “Hold on to Amia!”

  Tan spun, grabbing onto Amia and hugging her. Her body shook and he felt her fear in his mind with the silent command to protect her.

  He did not see the explosion.

  Tan felt the release of pressure and pain within him like a dam bursting, then heard something loud, a horrible roar, followed by screaming. It was only later he realized it had been him screaming, yelling as he was thrown in the air, caught in a torrent of wind up and over trees and forest, holding Amia as they flew across the sky, propelled by the immense blast.

  There was another surge of energy, something foreign and powerful, that caught him, leaving his skin tingling and his ears pulsing with its thunderous energy. It pulled upon them, streaking them higher and farther across the forest, and they sped like a loosed arrow. The wind howled around them. Droplets of glistening water formed on his arms and eyes and he blinked to clear his vision as they streaked through the air.

  Then they were coming down. The ground flew up to meet them. Amia met his eyes, a mixture of fear and acceptance written upon her face. Both knew that there was no way they could survive the landing.

  Then they crashed through trees and brush. The ground came up quickly and they landed with a splash.

  23

  Place of Convergence

  Tan awoke slowly. He rested against the trunk of a tree and his back ached from the position. His head throbbed, a slow pulsing, and he closed his eyes again, hoping it would help. Pain stretched everywhere in his body and he worked his legs and arms, slowly realizing that nothing was broken.

  Opening his eyes, he saw the lake where they had landed. A green film covered the water and his prints led from the water’s edge toward the tree. When had he crawled out of the water? Massive trees, huge roots curling up out of the water, lined most of the lake. Farther down the shore it turned rocky. Stretches of sandy beach interrupted the rocks. A small mountain peak rose up at the far end of the lake.

  Amia lay next to him, still breathing but not awake. Tan let her rest and stood carefully to investigate, feeling a wobbling dizziness as he did. At least he still had his bow, though water had seeped through and it would need time to dry. And he still had his hunting knife. Better than nothing.

  Near the lake, a small feeder stream flowed slowly enough that the water was still clear. He drank thirstily. The encounter with the lisincend had dried his mouth, and he worked his tongue over his lips to moisten them. Tan sighed as he finished drinking, standing again. Still lightheaded, at least he was a little better and able to stand without holding his hands out for balance.

  The lake was set into a small valley in the mountain. Tan didn’t recognize anything around him. How far had they been thrown?

  Or pulled? The vague memory of another energy pulling on them echoed in his mind.

  What he should do now? Wait for Amia to awaken, but then what? Roine had convinced him of the need to find the artifact. If nothing else, Incendin couldn’t be granted the power Roine thought it possessed.

  But how could he do that? Follow Amia’s shaping? Without Roine’s compass, would it even work?

  Or did they wait for Roine? If anyone could survive the blast of energy from the lisincend, one of the warriors could.

  As he walked along the shore of the lake, he stopped. They couldn’t wait for Roine. This task was his now. Somehow, in spite of everything, he still had to serve the king.

  But the alternative—letting Incendin pass easily into the kingdoms—was not acceptable. War would return. Other towns might end up like Nor or Velminth. How many would die?

  He closed his eyes and let his focus wander, sensing the forest around him. There was no unusual sound in the forest. There was the underlying buzz and hum of the late summer insects. He heard the quiet burbling of the stream and smelled the pungent algae growing within the lake. Somewhere far in the distance, a lone wolf howled plaintively, a reassuring sound, though Tan sensed that it was very far away. A circling hawk cried overhead before it fell silent. There was a rustle of the wind through the leaves of the trees, cool and steady across his face as well, and the air smelled of crisp pine.

  All of this felt reassuring.

  Over everything, he felt the shaping Amia had made. It was clear and bright within his mind, like a streamer of light pointing up the nearest peak. He wondered again how it was that he saw it.

  He made his way back to Amia. She had sat up and looked around, eyes touching on the lake and the mountain in the distance.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  Tan shook his head. “I’m not entirely sure. Roine did something and then we were here.” He motioned around him. “Wherever this is.”

  “I remember an explosion.”

  “There was that,” Tan agreed, laughing softly. “And something else. Do you remember landing?”

  She looked at him with her dark eyes and frowned. “No. Why?”

  Tan laughed quietly again. “Your body will remember for you.”

  “That’s why I am so sore?” Amia looked at him. Pressure built behind his ears, the sign of a sensing or a shaping. “You’re uncertain.” Amia placed a hand on his arm. “But that’s not all. You blame yourself. You think the hounds followed you to Nor.”

  “No secrets from you?” he asked and Amia smiled. “They followed my scent. I know I couldn’t help it, but if I hadn’t tracked them into the forest, would they have come after Nor?”

  “You lost everyone.”

  “So did you.”

  A pained look pulled at her face. “We’ve been chased away before. As Aeta, we come to expect that. But what Incendin did…what the lisincend did to my people…
the Mother…”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Why? If not for you, I’d be dead too. What you did gave me a chance.”

  “If we don’t find this…artifact, it won’t be much of a chance.”

  “You’ll go on without Roine?” Amia asked.

  “What choice do we have? If we do nothing, everyone suffers. If we try—”

  “Then we might suffer.”

  Tan laughed. Considering everything they’d been through, it seemed they’d already suffered enough. “Better that then watching when we could’ve helped.”

  “That’s not your real reason. Not all of it.”

  Tan sighed. How could he put words to why he wanted to make sure Roine’s task was completed? Amia touched his arm and a wave of relief washed over him. Tan wondered if he’d been shaped, but didn’t really care. “Since my father died, my mother has wanted me to go to Ethea.”

  “The university?”

  Tan nodded. “You know of it?”

  Amia breathed out softly. “Mother always tried to avoid Ethea. She was afraid one of the shapers there would recognize my…gift. You have to understand, not visiting Ethea creates challenges for my people. The trading is always good at the heart of your kingdoms, the prices better than we can get anywhere else, and there are things we just can’t trade for anyplace else. Not visiting Ethea was a sacrifice made for me.”

  “Did your people resent you for it?”

  Amia smiled. “They understood the reasons. And we followed the Mother where she led. I can’t say I wouldn’t like to visit Ethea some day. I’ve heard the palace is breathtaking. Shaped by your earth shapers in such a way that can’t be replicated by masons.”

  Tan shook his head. “I wouldn’t know.”

  “You don’t want to visit?”

  Tan hesitated before answering. “My place isn’t in Ethea. My place is…was…in Nor.” He looked around. “I’m an earth senser like my father. It’s not a skill with much use anywhere else.” He didn’t say anything about not wanting to serve the king. Not as his father had served. Still, he suspected Amia knew anyway.

  “Then why do this?”

  Tan looked over at the distant mountain. “It’s the last thing my mother asked of me.”

  Amia squeezed his hand and they sat there for a long while. “It’s out there,” she said. “I feel it, trailing into the mountain. Closer than before.”

  Tan could practically see the shaping, it pulled so strongly on him. “Will you help?”

  “What else can I do? At least this way I can do something to stop Fur.”

  Tan felt relief that she would help and pulled her to her feet. “Are you ready or do you need to rest longer?”

  She forced a smile. “Resting will only let the pain set in more. Better to move.”

  They circled around the lake, following the shore, and moved through soft leaves and detritus. All the recent rain had made the ground soggy and Tan led them away from the shore, toward the trees. Though they didn’t gain any speed, he no longer felt as if the ground was trying to suck him under with each step. The lake was much longer than it was wide, filling much of this part of the valley, and fed by several small streams running down from the mountains.

  “There’s a lot of water around here,” he said as they stepped through another small stream.

  “Do you know where we are?”

  “South and east of Velminth,” he said. That much he’d determined. “Other than that, I can’t say. I’m not certain we’re still in Galen.”

  Tan kept expecting to see the edge of the lake as they continued forward but did not. Amia pointed them down the lake. The white-tipped mountains never seemed nearer. The clouds managed to block the sun and they traveled by an overcast light. After everything they’d seen, the dour day fit his mood.

  After a time, a distant howl rang out from the forest. He froze, tensing with the sound. It was the unmistakable cry of one of the Incendin hounds.

  “If they reach the valley…we won’t be able to outrun them,” Tan said.

  “And if there are hounds…” Amia began.

  They ran.

  Had the air grown warmer? A breeze blew through the valley and across the lake, but had it not been a cool wind? The sky was darkening and the cloud cover made it difficult for him to gauge the time, but he suspected night was coming.

  There was another howl, nearer now, and they froze, looking in the direction of the sound, before starting forward at a run. The wet ground slowed them.

  “We have to move into the trees,” Amia said.

  “Stay near the water,” Tan said. “Lisincend. Fire shapers.” He knew little of shaping, but he knew how sensing was paired. “Fire is tempered by water. Earth by wind.” He struggled for a few more steps to catch his breath. “Safest by water.”

  Thick mud and muck clung to their legs as they slogged forward. The harsh cry of the hounds continued to echo through the forest, growing strangely muted as the sound passed across the valley. With each howl, the hounds closed on them.

  “We aren’t going to outrun them,” Tan said.

  He reached for his knife before thinking better of it and placing it back in its sheath. Instead, he unslung his bow and pulled a few arrows from his quiver. Though wet, he hoped the fletching had dried enough for the arrows to fly true.

  Tan looked at Amia. Her face was blank but her eyes flashed with her determination. “We need to slow—” he began. A loud sound almost directly in front of them cut him off.

  A dark shape stood outlined against the trees one hundred paces in front of them. The large creature stalked forward, hackles raised, and it growled again.

  Tan didn’t think. He raised his bow, sighted, and released. The arrow flew true, striking the hound under its chin. It took a step, cried out weakly, and fell. Tan readied another arrow as Amia grabbed his arm and pulled him forward.

  A chorus of howling sounded off to their left, loud and growing louder. Tan listened and counted at least three distinct cries. His grip upon his bow tensed. Amia pulled him along toward a large rock cluster that loomed in the distance.

  “If we’re to make a stand,” he said, pointing to the rocks. It would be as good as any and still near the water.

  As they reached the rocks, Tan spun, sensing something close. One of the hounds leapt from the shadows, directly at Amia. Tan released his nocked arrow and it caught the hound between the eyes. The creature fell limp nearly at Amia’s feet. Without thinking, Tan grabbed it and slung it out into the lake. It sank with a strange hissing sound.

  Two more creatures slid forward from under the cover of the trees, low growls in their throats. They moved more cautiously than the others. A light haziness surrounded them, much like with the lisincend. It reminded him of when he’d been treed after tracking them. A steady heat radiated from them as well.

  He fired an arrow toward the nearest creature and heard a low cry, but was not certain that his arrow had struck true. The haze was difficult to see through. Tan reached into his quiver and pulled out his remaining arrows. His stomach dropped as he realized only three remained.

  A streak of movement shot toward them. He drew and fired. A satisfying thump came as the arrow struck home. The hound howled and went down thrashing, kicking mud and dirt at them as it fell.

  Tan turned away, blocking Amia from its death throes. He barely saw the other hound as it leapt toward them.

  With no time to nock an arrow, he grabbed his knife and swung it at the hound, slicing it beneath its throat. Warm blood sprayed down his arm. The hound fell to the ground and crawled away. When it touched water, steam rose from it.

  Amia shivered near him. “Two arrows left.”

  The air temperature had risen sharply. No wind blew. Through the trees, Tan heard another low rumbling growl, followed by another. It was not the hounds prowling the forest that he feared.

  He feared the lisincend that had arrived with them.

  “Lisincend,” he whispered.

/>   There came a low, dry laugh, starting like the rustling of leaves, and rising to a loud hiss. “Yes,” a strange voice said. “You are right to feel fear. Now. Where is the girl?”

  “There’s no girl here,” Tan answered.

  The lisincend laughed again. “I smell her. And her fear. Give her to me.”

  Tan shook his head as he answered. “No.”

  The lisincend laughed again. “You have been surprising, boy, but you cannot hope to defy me any longer.”

  Amia gripped his arm. Tan glanced over. “Run,” he mouthed.

  She released his sleeve and he stepped forward, hoping to block the lisincend from seeing her. “You’re Fur?”

  The lisincend hissed. “I am Fur.”

  “Where is Theondar?” Tan demanded.

  “Theondar?” it asked, its dry voice cracking over the name. “Theondar troubles me no longer. And neither will you.”

  Tan felt the energy building around the lisincend and knew he should be more afraid than he was, knew that he had only moments remaining. Yet instead of fear, he felt anger. The lisincend had attacked his home. Had killed his friends. And had taken his mother from him.

  And under all of that, he heard the soft command, Amia’s shaping from the night, which now seemed so long ago.

  Protect me.

  Tan could do nothing else except try.

  He raised his bow, letting his senses stretch out, sensing the forest around him and listening. He knew where the lisincend stood and fired quickly, grabbing his remaining arrow and loosing it as well. The arrows whistled and hissed through the air before striking.

  Tan felt the lisincend begin its shaping, felt the enormous power it used. Time seemed to slow. The hairs on his arm stood on end and sweat dripped from his face as the heat in the air surged. The lisincend began to glow with a reddish light. Whatever it was shaping was more powerful than anything he had seen before.

  Had he given Amia enough time? He dared not turn to look, watching the lisincend with morbid fascination, knowing he would soon die. Pressure built like he’d felt with shapings before, but this was different. His head started pounding and a whistling sound whooshed behind his ears. All of this he sensed with a curious detachment.