Read Changed By Fire (Book 3) Online
Authors: D.K. Holmberg
Changed By Fire (Book 3) (23 page)
Tan drew power through the sword and the shaping dissipated. “They were wise. The elementals should not be controlled.”
The king snarled, “Maybe I was wrong about you.” He motioned toward Alisz. “Finish him.”
She blinked as if debating whether to obey. Althem forced a shaping upon her and she leapt into the air. The other lisincend followed.
They dove toward him.
Tan pressed through the sword, drawing upon all of the elements at the same time he drew upon the elemental power. Already, he engaged golud. Now he called ara to buffer his shaping and mixed what he could of the nymid, though they were distant.
The lisincend hit a barrier created by his shaping and bounced off.
“You can’t do this!” Tan yelled at the king.
Althem ignored him. His shaping built, pulling through the artifact. Tan recognized how the shaping pulled on the elementals, drawing from golud beneath him, ara fluttering in the wind, the nymid deep beneath their feet in the lakebed that once had existed here, and lastly pulling through Asboel. He mixed that power, drawing it through the artifact.
Tan sent a shaping at the king but it wasn’t strong enough, not against the power Althem now wielded.
The ground next to him exploded.
Lacertin shot from the ground, sword glowing with runes. Roine followed. His skin shone and still carried with it a hint of green from the nymid’s healing. Zephra followed on a shaping of wind infused with ara. As Tan watched, ara faltered, drawn by the king’s shaping.
“We need to stop the king—” Tan started, but the lisincend attacked as he did.
Lacertin twisted, sending a shaping of fire and wind and earth toward Alisz, pulling through his sword. His mother shot toward the other lisincend, unafraid and drawing a shaping of wind as she went. Only Roine remained.
“Roine?”
He stared at the king with an unreadable expression. “This is not my friend,” Roine said. “This is not Althem. He
must
have been shaped.”
Amia gave him a sad expression. “Althem is the shaper. What he does has been years in the planning.”
“What does he attempt?” Roine asked.
Tan nodded toward Asboel. “He draws forth a pool of spirit. With that—” he pointed to the artifact “—he can change anything.”
Roine took a step back. “I can’t stop him.”
“Theondar can.”
His eyes widened. “I
am
Theondar, Tannen. And I can’t stop him.” He looked at Lacertin battling the lisincend, at Zephra sending whips of wind at the other, before shifting his attention back to Tan. “You’re the one who speaks to the elementals. You will have to do this. You are the only one. Go. Do what you can. I will help the others.”
“Your sword,” Tan said, holding it toward him.
Roine pushed it back to him. “That is a warrior’s sword.” Roine shifted his attention back to Alisz. His shaping built suddenly and he shot toward her, leaving Tan and Amia together.
Tan looked at Asboel. He had come to save his friend, but to do so, he needed to stop the king. “Can you do something about the shaping?” he asked Amia.
She focused on Asboel, biting her lip as she considered. “There is still my shaping holding him.”
Tan closed his eyes, thinking. Amia’s shaping—the warning not to hunt man—would restrict Asboel. “Remove it.”
“Tan?”
“Remove it.”
Amia set her jaw and started toward Asboel, working around his broken wing and sidling up to him.
Tan focused on Althem.
The shaping still built, growing more powerful with each passing moment.
If he did nothing, Althem would control enough of the elementals to draw spirit here. Tan didn’t know what would happen then, but if the ancient scholars were unwilling to keep the artifact here—if they were unwilling to risk that—then he would not, either.
Althem shot him a dark look. “You can’t stop this, Tannen. Perhaps in a few years, you might have learned enough, but not now. And once I learned of your ability, I wasn’t willing to risk those years. It’s why I convinced your friend to take you to the Gathering. I thought you could be coaxed toward fire—”
He threw a shaping toward Tan.
Tan barely reacted in time, pushing it away with a shaping drawn through the sword. He took another step.
Althem sent another shaping at him. Again, Tan barely deflected it.
Behind him, someone screamed.
Tan ignored it, focusing only on the king. Another step.
A few more and he would reach him.
Althem shifted his focus, pressing all of his shaping on Tan.
Elemental power burned through him, threatening to destroy him. Tan recognized it. He’d felt it before. Nymid. Ara. Golud. And draasin. Althem could not speak to them, could not do more than try to control them. But they were elementals, not meant to be controlled.
The last, draasin, burned strongly. Tan pulled on it rather than pushing it away, not drawing it in as he had when he had nearly transformed into the lisincend, but instead simply diverting it from the king’s intended target.
The bond with Asboel strengthened.
Maelen
.
Tan took another step forward.
The king continued to push his shaping onto Tan. Fire no longer burned in the shaping.
Tan pulled on ara.
Help the son of Zephra.
Ara swirled and shifted. Then it mingled with fire.
Another step.
Golud pushed, rumbling beneath him. Tan sent a command to the earth elemental.
Serve the son of Grethan
.
The rumbling shifted, now moving toward the king.
That left only the nymid. They were the first elemental Tan had ever spoken to. His bond might be strongest with the draasin, but the connection to the nymid had strength as well.
Help me save the Daughter.
Tan reached the king. Althem fought, but elemental power burned in Tan. He reached for the artifact.
And then Tan pulled a shaping through the artifact, mingling all of the elemental power.
Not to call spirit, but to
shape
spirit, twisting it as he had learned he needed in order to summon a spirit shaping.
Blinding light surged around him. Time seemed to stand still as power unlike anything he’d ever felt surged through him.
It reminded him of stepping into the pool of liquid spirit, only thousands of times stronger. Awareness of everything around him surged through him. He could control everything, shape anything, turn the world into his ideal.
This was the reason ancient scholars created the artifact. This was what they feared.
For a moment, he considered shaping his father into existence. He could recreate Nor, place his family back as it was. Help Amia find her family again, shape
her
mother back into existence. The hatchlings could be shaped back into being.
The possibilities almost overwhelmed him.
Tan recognized the draw, the fury burning through him. Had he not nearly lost himself to fire, he doubted he would understand. Control of this power was an illusion.
He released earth, letting golud sag back into the stones. Then he released ara, letting wind return.
Tan held onto the nymid for a moment. Drawing and shaping through the artifact amplified the shaping more than the sword ever did.
Heal the Eldest
, he commanded.
The nymid stirred.
He Who is Tan.
Tan felt the nymid work on Asboel, surging through him. Fire surged in Tan’s mind.
He released water.
Now only fire burned within him. Asboel.
Do you wish this bond?
Maelen.
I can release the bond. Do you wish it?
The draasin snorted.
The Great Mother chose well.
Tan chuckled and released the fire he drew through the artifact. Time seemed to lurch forward. The blinding light faded.
Althem stood next to him. Anger swallowed his face. He lunged for the artifact and missed, instead grabbing the warrior’s sword. He sneered at Tan as his shaping built, sharp and powerful. Too fast for Tan to react with a shaping.
But he was not a shaper. He didn’t know what he was, but he was different. More.
Asboel!
The draasin reacted even faster than the king. Freshly healed, his jaw snapped forward, catching Althem with teeth sharper than any sword. He bellowed, flames shooting into the sky, as the fire elemental swallowed the king.
Tan shook and settled to the ground, more weakened than he had ever felt in his life.
Asboel nudged him with his nose.
A sense of contentment worked through the bond.
Maelen.
T
he courtyard had been destroyed
.
Roine crouched over someone attempting a powerful shaping. Tan rushed over, fearing it was his mother. Instead, Lacertin lay unmoving, a gaping hole burned through his chest. Tan reached for Roine. “Nothing can save him. Nothing can restore him now.”
Tears streamed down Roine’s face. “I… He…”
“I know,” Tan said.
The remains of Alisz were nearby, arms and legs torn off as if by some wild animal. Tan gagged and looked away. His mother knelt before the other lisincend, holding it wrapped tightly in a shaping of air. It writhed but could not escape.
He is yours,
he told Asboel.
You may keep him. Their flesh is bitter anyway.
Tan laughed. After everything they had been through, it felt good to laugh.
Roine searched the courtyard. “Where is Althem?”
“He’s gone.”
“Gone?”
Tan studied Asboel. “Gone. He will not harm this land again.”
“It will take a long time to work through everything that happened here,” Roine said. “It will take a long time for the city—the kingdoms—to recover.”
Tan could have fixed everything while shaping spirit through the artifact, done anything. But that power was not meant for him to wield. He still didn’t understand for what purpose the artifact had been created, but he began to understand what it could do.
“They will have a warrior to guide them. They will have Theondar.”
Roine studied the ground. “It should have been Lacertin. All this time, he never stopped serving his king. All this time, and I have been serving the wrong king.” Roine pulled his gaze up and redness rimmed his eyes. “You have the wrong warrior. I think you can lead. After what I’ve seen, you have done more than any to keep the kingdoms safe.”
“I—” Tan started.
Amia slipped her arm around him. “Whatever we choose, we will do it together.”
He kissed her lightly on the lips. “We need to understand everything that happened here. The archivists. The First Mother. The lisincend. The king. So many answers are needed.”
Tan’s mother drifted toward them on a shaping of wind. “You will not have to do that alone.”
Asboel snorted his agreement. The great fire elemental simply waited, golden eyes surveying the sky, as if waiting for Tan to release him.
You don’t have to stay.
Asboel snorted.
I will uphold my end of the bond.
This time, Tan snorted.
You have kept up the bond. Go. Mourn. I will join you when I am finished here.
And then?
We are not done with Twisted Fire.
A surge of satisfaction came from Asboel. The great draasin—the Eldest of the elementals—lifted to the sky on his massive wings. He studied Tan as he took off. With a twitch of his tail, he headed south toward Nara.
Tan’s heart was heavy for what Asboel had endured. But the draasin was strong. He would be fine in time. They all would.
As much as he would have liked to, he could not have shaped away that sadness.
“You held power and you turned away,” Amia said. “I felt it flowing through you. For a moment,
I
was tempted.”
“With that power, I could have done anything. The temptation was there…” He looked around, pushing away the haunting memory. “More than anything, I think that was the reason the ancient scholars hid the artifact away from here.”
Roine focused on the artifact. “I can—”
Tan held the artifact in front of him. The runes no longer glowed, not as they had when power shaped through it, but he knew the dangerous secret to using it. “I think it best if I watch over it. Besides, I think I know a place to keep it safe.”
T
he lower level
of the archives was quiet. The only sound was Tan’s pounding heart and Amia’s soft breathing. He stood in front of one of the doors—one of the ancient doors that had resisted opening in spite of centuries of trying.
“Are you sure you can do this?” Amia asked.
Tan focused on the runes carved into the surface. The First Mother had to be convinced, but she had taught him as much as she knew of them. Now, Tan recognized the various symbols.
“I’m not sure,” he said.
The artifact weighed heavily in his pocket. Tan looked forward to hiding it away. He hoped this worked as planned and built a shaping.
Earth and water and wind and fire, all mixing together and all strengthened by the elementals at this place of convergence.
The runes slowly started glowing.
“These doors haven’t been opened in nearly a thousand years,” Tan said.
“That’s why I’m not sure it’s wise to simply open one.”
“I need to know what they knew. I need to know why they created this place. I need to know what I am.”
Amia squeezed his hand.
And then the door hissed open.
D
K Holmberg
currently lives in rural Minnesota where the winter cold and the summer mosquitoes keep him inside and writing.
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