Prelude to Fire: Parts 1 and 2 (3 page)

Lacertin looked around the king’s chambers. Given how weak that he was, it was likely the last time that he would be granted access. Lacertin did not think that he would want to come again, especially not until he knew how clear the king’s mind remained.

He pulled his hand free from Ilton’s grasp and started to turn. The gold plates made him pause. Would the next person to enter the king’s chambers appreciate the reason that Ilton had requested them, or would they think it some trinket that the dying king had brought to him?

If there was power to be had with them, shouldn’t Lacertin see that the archivists had a chance to use it? Shouldn’t the king be given every opportunity needed to improve?

Lacertin sighed. Perhaps Theondar was right.
His
king was
gone. That didn’t mean that Lacertin would stop serving him, though.

He took the plates that he’d spent so much time searching for on Ilton’s behalf, and returned them to his pocket. He needed to find someone who might be able to help use them on behalf of the king, but who? The archivists would take time studying, and there was no guarantee that they would be able to use them. There was a part of Lacertin that suspected shaping was required to utilize the plates, especially given the difficulty that he had finding them, but that meant the archivists wouldn’t be able to use them anyway.

He
could use them, but he would need someone who understood them. He could think of only one person to ask, though he wasn’t sure the princess would even see him.

For Ilton, he would have to ask.

L
acertin found
the shaper Nast standing guard outside the king’s chambers, waiting for the warrior when he left. The same sneer that he’d worn prior to learning who Lacertin was had returned to his face, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Is Ilianna in the palace?” Lacertin asked.

“Prince Althem requires your presence,” Nast said, ignoring the question.

Lacertin closed his eyes for a moment. He had hoped to avoid Althem a little while longer, but perhaps it was best that Althem summoned him so soon after he returned, especially since he’d seen how far gone Ilton already was.

Still, something about the way that Nast said it set Lacertin on edge. “Althem will see me when I choose, Shaper Nast,” he said.

Nast’s eyes widened slightly. “You would risk angering the king?”

Lacertin let out a frustrated sigh. “He’s not the king yet.”

Without waiting for Nast’s response, Lacertin hurried down the hall. Once back in the main part of the palace, he paused. Tradition held that warrior shapers would stay in the palace, but now that Althem ruled, and with his history with Theondar, staying here didn’t seem like the right decision.

At the bottom of the stairs, Bren glanced at him but hurried on his way, disappearing down the stairs leading to the lower part of the palace. Lacertin had a room there, but it had been years since he’d considered the palace any sort of home to him. Home had been his travels, and more often than not, it had been some sort of battlefield, and usually with Incendin.

He considered following Bren and searching for Ilianna, but given the reception that he’d already received, cleaning himself up made the most sense. A change of clothes, perhaps a shave, and then to find answers to what had happened to Roln and Pherah. Now that Althem ruled, he would not find answers in the palace, especially not from Theondar, but there was a place where Lacertin’s name still mattered.

Lacertin reached the door leading out of the palace and paused. Now that he had finally returned, Lacertin felt confused. He’d been so single-minded over the last few months, searching for the plates, and then to return, that now that he had found them and had returned, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do. What would happen once Ilton was gone?

It had been nearly as long since he’d wandered the streets of Ethea. Especially near the palace, the streets were crowded. Servants moved to and fro, many carting food or what Lacertin suspected was medicines toward the palace. He caught sight of a pair of black-robed archivists and considered catching up to them, but decided against it. He would find Ilianna first and then the archivists.

One of the archivists glanced over at him. As he made eye contact, Lacertin felt a soft build up of shaping. Lacertin pulled his eyes away from the archivist and looked around, but didn’t see any other shaper around him. When he looked back to the archivists, he didn’t see either man.

Lacertin considered shaping himself through the streets but decided against it. There was a reason there was a shaper circle at the university. The kingdoms relied on their shapers, but there was a level of distrust with shapers regardless. Sensers were more common within the kingdoms, but shapers were rare. Those without the ability to shape were jealous of those who could, and many thought the Great Mother overly gifted those able to shape each of the elements.

No, better for him to walk. The people in the street delayed him but also gave him the chance to think about what he would do next. With Ilton dying, he should have known that he would need to involve Althem, but Lacertin’s dislike of the prince made that difficult. The timing of the Incendin attack on the kingdoms was unfortunate as well.

The chances were good that he would be drawn away to help with settling the borders. The barrier that he’d designed had helped, but there was weakness to it, as well. There was no perfect way to design the protection between Incendin and the kingdoms, and the hounds had managed to slip past the barrier more often than what was safe, especially for those living along those border towns. He still didn’t know
how
they could slip past, but then, so little was really known about the hounds.

He should have checked with Theondar. They might not always agree with each other, but Theondar could provide him the insight he needed, filling in the gaps of what he’d missed out on during his time away.

But Theondar wasn’t the only warrior in the kingdoms. There were nearly two dozen warriors—or there had been before Roln and Pherah died—and at any given time, there were nearly a dozen within Ethea. His standing might have changed over time, but he was still First Warrior even if he spent much of his time outside the city.

Lacertin approached the university from an indirect route. Coming through the main entrance meant that he would have to face not only shapers, some like Nast, but also shapers in training and sensers with nothing more than a desire to become more than they would ever be able to.

Few sensers who came to the university ever amounted to anything more than sensing. They could be taught to hone that ability and could use it in ways that benefited the kingdoms—the price they paid for their training in the university—but only a few ever learned enough mastery of sensing to be able to shape. And of those shapers, fewer still learned enough that they could attempt another element so that they could become warrior shapers.

The main entrance of the university opened into a wide courtyard. The back side, the entrance where Lacertin now went, was nothing but a wall of stone. A few windows were set into the stone, but not enough to create much light inside. The university had stores of shapers lanterns to add additional lighting, more than any place other than the palace. Lacertin took a small door inside and up a flight of narrow stairs. Stone pressed around him and he lit the shapers lanterns along the way, giving the stairs only a dim light as he made his way up. Few people came this way, and Lacertin saw no one as he went up.

The stair let out into a wider hall. Lacertin made his way down the hall, glancing at the doors as he went. Toward the end, one of the doors remained open. It had been a while since Lacertin had been here, but the door to the Master Library usually remained closed. He hesitated, wondering if there was something else going on at the university, when he heard voices coming from behind him.

He ducked into the open door and closed it. Why had he come here? Just because Ilton was dying? That wasn’t anything new for him. He’d known the king was dying before he left on his search. Why was it that seeing him had unsettled him so much?

Maybe it was the way that Ilton had appeared. When Lacertin had last been here, there remained the hope that he would recover, but seeing him—and shaping him—made it clear that he would not. Then there was the way that his mind seemed to have slipped.

Lacertin sighed. All men died. Few lived the life that Ilton had led. He should be celebrating the king’s life, rather than mourning, but the part of him that had served Ilton from the moment he came to Ethea made it difficult for him to celebrate.

“You shouldn’t lean on the door like that.”

Lacertin looked up to see a small woman sitting at the long oak table that took up most of the room. A shapers lantern sat in front of her, and she had a stack of texts resting next to her. Her thumb rested inside one of them, and she looked at him with an amused expression that reminded him of Theondar.

“Why?” he asked. He didn’t recognize her, which meant either she was a new master shaper or he had been gone long enough that he’d already begun to forget the names of the shapers at the university. Unfortunately, that was possible.

She pointed a slender finger at the door. “The others will be returning soon,” she said. She had a hint of an accent, but one that Lacertin couldn’t place.

Lacertin moved away from the door. “Who are you?”

The woman laughed softly. She had a musical tone to her laugh, and her dark eyes twinkled as she smiled. “I should ask you the same. Most of the students who come into the library make an attempt at blending in, but then, judging by the way you’re dressed, you aren’t a student, are you?”

The beard might serve more use than he realized. Having others not recognize him had value, especially until he had a chance to have Princess Ilianna examine the box. It weighed heavily in his pocket, more so when he began to think about the fact that he’d taken it from Ilton after telling him that he’d found it.

What would happen if the king awoke and had a moment of lucidity? Would he remember that Lacertin had brought the box to him and wonder what had happened to it, or would he already have forgotten?

“I’m not a student,” Lacertin agreed. “And you still haven’t shared with me who you are.”

He pulled a chair from the table and sat next to the woman. She arched a brow and then turned back to her books with a shrug, again ignoring his question. Lacertin didn’t know whether to be amused or annoyed. She had short black hair that hung below her sharp chin and wore a simple dress of yellow and blue stripes. Most of the university masters preferred more utilitarian clothing, thinking they had to be austere to show their commitment to shaping. Lacertin had always worn what was comfortable.

While waiting for her to say something more, he glanced at the stack of books. In his earlier days, back when he had still been learning what it meant to shape, he had spent time in the archives. Many students did. None were allowed access to the more restricted stacks, but there was much that could be learned from what was available. That was where he’d learned about the history of the kingdoms and where he had studied the past kings and queens. He noted that the books this woman read through didn’t appear to be from those outer stacks.

“Do you plan on watching me read?” she asked without looking up.

Lacertin shrugged. “I might.”

She sniffed and closed the book again, marking her place with her thumb. Lacertin glanced at the cover of the book and noted that a rune was stamped on the cover, but not one that he recognized. “Jayna,” she said and extended her hand to shake his, making a point of not losing the place in the book she was reading.

Lacertin took her hand and tried remembering if he’d heard of Jayna before but couldn’t place the name. That still didn’t mean all that much. He was gone from the kingdoms too often to know all of the shapers, and there were hundreds of students, each with potential, even if most of the time it never amounted to much.

“This is where you tell me your name,” Jayna said.

Lacertin couldn’t take his eyes of her smile. There was a playful quality to it, and intelligence shone behind her eyes. It had been a long time since he was intrigued by a woman. “Lacertin,” he said.

Her hand stiffened in his. Most would recognize his name, and he wasn’t surprised that she had. She glanced down at his waist, to his cloak that now covered his warrior sword, and nodded thoughtfully. “You wear the sword like one of the warriors, but you’re bearded like one of the mountain men of Galen, or a fisherman of Vatten.”

“Nara,” he said.

She let his hand go and pulled the books closer to her, as if he might take them from her. “Nara?”

He nodded. “That was my home once.” He waited for the expected response. Within the kingdoms, even here in Ethea, there was a certain shared sentiment about Nara. Many felt that the people of Nara were little better than Incendin. Thankfully, Ilton hadn’t been one of them.

“You came to the university to learn,” she noted.

“Isn’t that what it is for?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Perhaps for most. Some would say that Nara is different.”

Lacertin considered ignoring the implication. It was a common comment since the start of the war, as if his allegiance should be questioned. “You would rather I have crossed the waste?”

Jayna leaned over her stack of books, the playful smile never leaving her lips. The woman was
enjoying
taunting him. “I think others have crossed, if that’s what you’re implying. There’s no use denying what you might have learned had you risked going to the Fire Fortress.”

Lacertin held his breath. There weren’t many who knew enough about Incendin to know of the Fire Fortress. For most, Incendin consisted of desert and barren lands, everything threatening and deadly. Few bothered to learn about the life along the borders of the waste, or the powerful shaping that their fire shapers so easily mastered. “I serve the king,” he said.

Jayna leaned back, and the smile spread a little wider on her face. “Which king? Seems like we’re about to have a new one.”

“Ilton still rules,” he answered with more force than necessary. After seeing how Ilton had appeared when he had visited, Lacertin wasn’t sure how much longer that would be the case. Did the king have days? Weeks? It didn’t seem possible that there would be much more time than that remaining.

“From what I hear, you’ve been gone a while,” Jayna said.

“I have.”

“Mission for the king?” When Lacertin didn’t answer, she laughed softly and tapped a finger to her temple as if in on some secret. “Say no more, Lacertin. I know enough to know when I should stop asking questions.”

“I would suggest otherwise.”

She tipped her head and waited a moment, then laughed. “Maybe you’re right. I don’t always know when to stop, especially when the greatest warrior in the kingdoms suddenly appears in the university library and sits down next to me. You can’t blame a simple water shaper for curiosity, though.”

Lacertin sighed, thankful that she had admitted what type of shaper she was. “How long have you been at the university?” he asked.

The corners of her eyes twitched and her cheeks took on a slight flush. “How long?”

Lacertin nodded. “I don’t remember meeting you before.”

“Do you remember all the shapers you’ve met?”

Lacertin glanced at the door. Voices on the other side of the door came louder, and he remembered the sounds of people in the hall behind him when he’d first returned to the university. Why had he come here again? It had been years since Lacertin had been close to anyone in the university, years since he had been willing to spend much time here. Like so much else, what had once been his home was now nothing more than a place of discomfort.