Changed by Fire (The Cloud Warrior Saga Book 3) Read online

  “Golud infuses the palace and parts of the university as well.”

  “That’s much more than at the other place of convergence. If the nymid flow through the stone elsewhere as they do here, there would be—” he tried thinking of the size. “—more than in the lake there. And ara?”

  “You understand my concern.”

  Cianna addressed Lacertin. “What do the lisincend think to gain from this?”

  Lacertin answered. “That’s just it. The lisincend can gain nothing.”

  “Why are they here?”

  A quick shaping built, sharp and powerful. Tan had never felt anything like it before.

  “Because I summoned them.”

  Tan spun. Standing in front of him was King Althem. He was dressed in simple navy pants with a jacket hanging slightly open over his chest, revealing a silver pendant in the shape of a star with a circle around it. The rune for spirit. A rune-covered sword hung at his waist.

  Lacertin stepped past Tan but did not kneel before the king. “Althem. Your father would be disappointed in what you’ve become.”

  The king snorted, sneering at Lacertin. “My father wasn’t strong enough to recognize my potential.”

  Lacertin unsheathed his sword. The runes along the blade glowed.

  “Lacertin! He’s still shaped,” Tan said, stepping in front of the king. If he attacked the king, there would be no way Lacertin could return to the kingdoms.

  Lacertin fixed Althem with a hard expression. “He’s not shaped. He’s never been shaped.”

  “But the archivists. They’re spirit shapers…” Then he trailed off, suddenly understanding what Lacertin meant.

  The king had attended the university. None knew if he had any shaping ability. Tan assumed it had been because he had none. But what if there was a different answer? What if the king could shape spirit to hide his abilities?

  It meant the archivists had not shaped him. It meant whatever shaping Amia had thought she found wrapped around the king’s mind had been faked.

  “He’s a spirit shaper?” Tan whispered.

  The king drew a short bladed sword from its sheath. The runes along the blade glowed just as Lacertin’s did. The warrior stood frozen in place, as if unable to move.

  The king had shaped him.

  “Tannen Minden. The first warrior shaper in centuries.” He smiled at Tan, ignoring Lacertin. “And one with a particularly useful set of skills.”

  Everything started coming together for him.

  Could Ethea be a place of convergence? How was that possible? Such places were said to be hidden, difficult to find—except the archivists had easily found the place in the mountains. And Tan had found it several times. Could spirit be the key?

  If Ethea were a place of convergence, it meant spirit could be drawn to it. Given the sheer size of the tunnels, the amount of liquid spirit that could be drawn here with the help of the elementals would be massive. Amia had once called the pool of spirit in the mountains a drop of the Great Mother. How much would collect here?

  Without fire elementals, none would come.

  The draasin had come before, but the kingdom shapers had chased them away. Now Asboel came again, seeking revenge on Twisted Fire.

  Panic surged through him. Asboel! Stay away!

  The sending failed. The connection was there, but he couldn’t reach the draasin, not as he should be able.

  He tried again. This is a place of the Mother. It is a trap!

  Again the sending failed.

  He looked at the king. A dark smile twisted his mouth.

  “Had the lisincend become a fire elemental, they would have served my purpose, but they do not have the necessary power. Fire still controls them.” His smile widened. “I would thank you for that piece of understanding, Tannen. I thought you might serve better than the lisincend, but, alas, that was not meant to be. But had it not been for you—for your near transformation—I’m not sure we would have understood quite how fire controls the shaper following a transformation. As much as they try, they will never be able to serve fire as elementals. But the draasin…”

  Tan glanced to Lacertin. A pained look on his face told Tan how he had battled the shaping and failed.

  The king continued. “The draasin have returned. I sent Theondar to find the artifact. I never expected the draasin. Finding them was quite fortuitous.”

  Tan realized that a shaping worked over him as the king spoke. It was subtle and snaked its way into his mind, pushing past any barrier he could form. Like the one placed on him by the First Mother, this shaping blocked him from reaching the draasin and the other elementals.

  He focused on his breathing. He could get past the shaping, but he had to form his own shaping of spirit. While doing it, he needed to distract the king.

  “How can you shape spirit?”

  The king snorted. “So little understanding of history. Disappointing that Zephra and Grethan didn’t teach you better.”

  Anger surged through him at the mention of his father’s name. His father had died in service of this king. His mother had nearly died. And for what? He still didn’t know what the king intended to do with the place of convergence. If he succeeded in calling spirit, what did he intend?

  “They taught me enough.”

  “Apparently not. Look at you. Standing and waiting. Once the draasin arrives, the summoning will be complete. And then I will draw upon spirit in a way that hasn’t been attempted in over one thousand years.”

  “That’s all this is about? Power?”

  The king snorted. “I thought you understood. Haven’t you touched spirit yourself, Tannen? Would you not return to that understanding, that control, if you could?”

  Tan remembered the pull when he’d been in the pool of liquid spirit. The sense of understanding that worked through him. In that time, he’d felt closer to Amia than ever. He had freed the youngest of the draasin, had saved Amia. With enough time, he could have done anything.

  But such power was not meant for him. He knew that. He was no elemental, not like Asboel, yet the king thought to claim that power for himself.

  “The First Mother. Who is she to you?”

  “She was nothing to me. But Jishun—he was a teacher. A mentor. From what I gather, he learned much from the First Mother. When he learned about my ability with spirit, he eagerly offered to teach, except there was only so much he was willing to try. When my skills exceeded his, he thought to restrain me.” The dark smile returned to his face. “Instead, it was my turn to teach the lesson.”

  “You sent Jishun to die?”

  “I sent Jishun to serve.”

  “You knew what would happen. How the fire shaper would use him.”

  “Him or your Aeta. Either way, a test. Incendin has plotted for nearly a century. They have sought the elemental power of fire, never quite reaching their goal. It is what led me to wonder what might happen with an infusion of spirit? Of course, I couldn’t let Incendin acquire such power—at least, not until I had a way of controlling it.”

  The artifact. That was why the king wanted it. And now Tan understood why the king wanted Jishun to have the artifact. He wanted to create the twisted lisincend.

  Tan pushed with his shaping, forming it together. The king’s spirit shaping was different than the First Mother’s. It wrapped around his mind, trying to press into his thoughts, working to blend them together. With enough time, Tan doubted he would know which thoughts were his and which were shaped upon him.

  He added an extra infusion of water shaping. Had he not been so near the nymid, he wouldn’t have the strength for what he needed. But the nymid were close. All he needed was to reach them… to have the nymid add their water shaping to the shaping he created.

  The king’s shaping built with sharp pressure, assaulting him with its power.

  Tan grabbed his head. The shaping slipped over him, pressing down into his mind. He felt it mingling with his thoughts, burning through his brain the way fire had cha
nged him. This time, he was being changed by the king’s spirit shaping.

  He screamed.

  The king laughed.

  “You are powerful. Much longer and you might have succeeded, Tannen. I admit I was surprised you managed to escape the First Mother’s shaping. When I instructed her not to shape you too profoundly, I expected I would have to coerce you more myself. Instead—” He stood defiantly. “Instead, you have done everything I needed of you anyway. Once the draasin arrive—and I am fully aware that your friend is coming—I will have all I need to draw forth spirit.”

  Thoughts and ideas flashed through his mind, but how many of them were his? How much of it was shaped by the king? “The draasin will not help,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “Are you so certain? Haven’t you already drawn their fire?” The king glanced at Cianna. “You used fire in your healing. I feel it within her mind. Once they reach the city, I already have the anchor I need. You have done everything I need of you.”

  The shaping working through his mind burned. Tan gritted his teeth. “Then why keep me alive?”

  “Because I can’t speak to the elementals. Not yet. Once I draw upon spirit with this—” He pulled the artifact from a hidden pocket. The faint light of the tunnel caught off the silver surface, gleaming softly. “I will be able to control the elementals.”

  The king knew how to use the artifact. And once he did, what would happen to Tan? To the elementals?

  His friends could not help. Lacertin stood motionless, like a mindless soldier waiting for instructions. Cianna crouched behind the king.

  And the king watched Tan. Waiting for the shaping to take hold.

  Another shaping built. This came from a different direction, not from the king himself. What shaping would the king need another to create? What purpose would he have when he was a warrior too, able to shape all the elemental powers himself?

  Tan felt the shaping work over him. Hope swelled in him.

  He recognized the shaping, recognized the way it felt as it worked over him, washing through his mind. Amia. She had shaped him before, had used her ability to unintentionally force him to protect her. And now she worked to protect him.

  A struggle began for control of his mind.

  The king paused, head swiveling as he searched for Amia.

  Tan needed to distract him. Wherever she was, she needed to concentrate, to have the time needed to free his mind.

  He reached for Roine’s sword and pulled it from where he had it sheathed along his waist. With sword in hand, he lunged toward the king.

  Lacertin twisted, catching it. He swung his sword, bringing it around in an arc toward Tan’s head.

  Tan ducked and brought the sword in front of him to block, pushing Lacertin back. Unlike the warrior’s sword, the runes in Tan’s didn’t glow. “Don’t do this, Lacertin. Don’t let him control you!”

  The king roared. “You think he can simply choose freedom?”

  The shaping pressed deeper into Tan’s mind. He screamed again, working against it.

  This time, he drew from deep within him. The shaping sought to obstruct him, but Tan pushed, pulling all the elements together as he had when shaping spirit. The combination granted him a sort of strength. Tan pulled this through him, starting from deep within his chest and pushing toward his mind.

  A strange thing happened: the runes began glowing on Roine’s sword and the power of his shaping built, as if augmented by the weapon.

  Tan drew more of the shapings through him, mingling them to create a shaping of spirit. It grew, building, pushing against whatever the king had done to him.

  Amia’s shaping helped, weakening the shaping enough that Tan could push against it.

  For a moment, his mind freed. Then the king pushed with more strength, driving his shaping back down through Tan, but that moment had been enough.

  The nymid and ara added strength to his shaping. Asboel clawed through his mind, recognizing what had happened. Golud rumbled beneath his feet. All this strength added to his shaping, combining together.

  Spirit surged out of him, unguided, destroying the king’s shaping.

  The king stumbled.

  Tan turned the spirit toward Lacertin. Amia… help guide this.

  Through their shaped connection, he felt her reach toward him, pushing through and controlling the shaping of spirit. It worked through Lacertin, pulling from him the spirit shaping the king had placed on him. He turned to Cianna and did the same.

  Both blinked slowly, as if awakening from a long slumber.

  The king recovered more quickly. “Impressive. Perhaps I will need to work with more strength the next time.”

  His shaping built, but this time, he drew through the artifact. The runes on the surface glowed with a pale white light.

  Lacertin’s eyes went wide. Tan felt him shape a combination of the elements and wrap it around his mind.

  “Get out of here, Tan. If you stay, he can get what he seeks. Draw away the draasin.”

  “You can’t stop him by yourself.”

  Cianna stepped forward. “I’ll help.”

  Tan took the measure of Lacertin and Cianna. They wouldn’t be enough, not against a shaper of the king’s power and skill. With the artifact, he might be able to draw enough spirit to overwhelm Lacertin again.

  “I’m not going to leave you to him. I can help. The elementals can help.”

  Lacertin waved him away. “That’s exactly the problem. I can’t let them help. Not here. Not while he has that.” He grunted, pushing a shaping against something the king did. “Have you not wondered why the ancient shapers took the device from here?”

  Tan hesitated long enough to see Lacertin start to fall.

  He tried to catch him, but didn’t need to.

  Roine shot from the water, shimmering with green light. The nymid had restored him. A shaping built from him, catching Lacertin.

  Lacertin stared at the king.

  “Finally, Theondar, you get your chance to prove your worth,” Althem said.

  “Roine—the king shapes spirit. He’s a warrior. The archivists never influenced him.” Tan’s words came out in a rush because he needed to get Roine’s attention before the king convinced him to attack Lacertin.

  Roine hesitated, studying the king. “Is it true, Althem?”

  A shaping built, quickly flowing over Roine, who blinked. “Is it?”

  Another shaping, this one adding to the last.

  “We have been friends for a long time, Theondar. Think of what Lacertin did to my father. What he did to my sister.”

  Roine paused again, this time turning to Lacertin with a silent appeal.

  Fear crept through Tan. Roine hated Lacertin. Now, knowing what the king was—how he shaped spirit—Tan wondered how much of what happened back then had been shaped. How much of it was Althem’s fault?

  “Did you kill your sister?” Tan asked.

  Roine spun until his glare hit Tan full-force.

  Tan couldn’t tell if the king’s shaping had taken hold. Roine knew how to protect himself from spirit shapings, but so had Lacertin. Whatever they knew hadn’t been enough to prevent Althem from forcing them to do what he wanted.

  Tan met Roine’s eyes. “You blame Lacertin for what happened with Princess Ilianna, but Lacertin would never have done anything to harm King Ilton. Think of the steps he took to understand what happened. He spent part of the last twenty years living in Incendin just trying to understand what Incendin planned. Without him, we wouldn’t have stopped the lisincend attack.”

  Roine let out a frustrated breath. He glared at Lacertin. Heat radiated from him.

  Tan feared what would happen. Would Lacertin attack him? Would Roine attack Lacertin? Either way, the king got what he wanted.

  Then Roine turned to the king.

  “I became Roine after what happened with Ilianna. I did your work, served as your Athan. All this time, you’ve hidden your agenda.”

  Another shaping w
ashing over Roine.

  His voice raised in anger. “It was you, wasn’t it? You killed your father, not the archivists.” Roine swallowed and lowered his voice to a whisper. Somehow, it sounded more dangerous. “You killed Ilianna, didn’t you?”

  The king blinked, and then tried another shaping.

  Roine ran at him.

  Lacertin ran alongside, glancing back at Tan as he did. “Run, Tan. Get away from here.”

  Wind whistled through the tunnel, whipping around his cloak and stinging his skin. Zephra arrived.

  She attacked with Lacertin and Roine. Cianna aided, but the others outclassed her.

  Tan marveled at his mother. She floated on the air. Ara aided her, guiding her shaping. Each shaping was a crack of controlled air. The king somehow blocked each one.

  Tan realized that he shaped all the elements. A warrior shaper.

  Someone tugged on his arm. Tan’s delight at seeing Amia was immediately tempered by the tears in her eyes. “Come on,” she said. “Lacertin is right. We need to get out of here.”

  Tan watched the shapers battle for another moment. Using the artifact, the king managed to hold his own against the others, but they slowly forced him back.

  Amia grabbed shoulder. Tan decided she was right and together, they fled.

  28

  The Power of Spirit

  They reached the door leading into the lower level of the archives. Thunder and cracks of lightning chased them. Swirls of wind and chunks of debris followed. Amia remained tense as they ran. Otherwise, she appeared unharmed.

  At the door, Tan paused long enough to pull her against him. He still clutched Roine’s sword. Would Roine need it against the king? “Did they harm you?”

  She shifted her traveling cloak. Patches had burned away, but it remained mostly intact. “They thought they needed me to help control you.”

  “Are you shaped?”

  Amia leaned toward him and kissed him lightly on the mouth. “The First Mother tried. I think I was able to block it, but I don’t know.”

  “She’s on the other side of this door.”

  Amia cocked her head, concentrating. “I sense her there.”