Prelude to Fire: Parts 1 and 2 (9 page)

W
ind whistled
past him as he traveled on the shaping of air. Lightning streaked around him, dancing in the skies, and thunder chased him. The traveling shaping pulled him north, moving fast enough that the land streaked below him.

It was Wallyn who had made him decide to leave, if only briefly. If all went well, he would return to the city and perhaps have answers. This time, he’d gone without his king’s permission, though all he wanted was to scout for information, perhaps find a way to truly protect the kingdoms.

The air grew colder the farther he went. He passed beyond the border of the kingdoms and moved over open water. Only the blue of the sea stretched below him now.

Nearly losing Veran to the hounds had set him worrying about the safety of the barrier. And Roln and Pherah
had
been lost, as well as too many shapers. Had he missed something when suggesting it to the archivists?

For the safety of the kingdoms, he needed to ensure all was safe and secure before Theondar made a point of sending him somewhere else. That, more than anything, motivated him. When he no longer served as First Warrior, he had little doubt that Theondar would keep him from Ethea. Not that Lacertin minded, but he would have answers before that happened and do all that he could to protect the kingdoms.

Slivers of ice pierced his skin the farther he went. Lacertin shifted the shaping, adding a touch of heat to the air around him so that the cold ice in the air would melt before striking his skin. A soft cloud formed around him, making it even more difficult for him to see. For where he traveled, visibility probably didn’t matter.

Norilan was so far to the north that most warriors’ strength would fail before they reached it. And it was far enough to the north that the traveling shaping he used actually felt slow. Most of the time when he traveled like this, the time between places passed in a matter of moments. The only time that it hadn’t was when he’d carried Veran with him. To reach Norilan, moments stretched into minutes, which turned into even longer.

Then he began to feel pressure building.

It came slowly at first, barely more than an increased sense of wind resistance, then turned, something like the air thickening as he made his way north. Even that change, turning into true pressure pushing against him, slowing his shaping.

The fog around him from the heat added to the shaping thickened, leaving him sitting in a cloud. He smiled at the thought. For the first time, he truly
was
a cloud warrior.

The title came from so long ago that most forgot its origins. Lacertin liked to think that it was from sensers or shapers unable to travel like the warriors, who looked up at the sky to see the warriors moving, practically walking along the clouds.

With a shaping of wind, he drew the fog away. Even doing that didn’t help clear his vision. Sweeps of white stretched in front of him, obscuring even the ocean far below.

This was Norilan.

He knew little of the island, only that it had been separated from the rest of the world for so long that most forgot it existed. Lacertin had learned of Norilan from the archives, reading about a land of ice that had hidden itself from the world.

The barrier that prevented him from reaching Norilan was the same as he’d seen the first time he’d come. It was different than what the kingdoms had erected. Whereas this was a thick blanket of ice and fog, the barrier along the borders of the kingdoms was clear and shaped from each of the elements to keep shapers out. As far as Lacertin could tell, the intent of this barrier was simply to keep
everyone
out. It did not discriminate.

How did Norilan manage to maintain this barrier? He hadn’t managed to determine that the last time that he’d been here, and he still didn’t understand what they had done. The water shaping used was complex, rivaling the shaping that he’d seen from Wallyn, but this wasn’t water used to heal.

Maybe had another shaper, one stronger in water, come with him, he might be able to understand. There would be value in closing the borders entirely.

Lacertin made his way to the east, pressing against the barrier and not able to get any farther toward land he
knew
had to be there, land he couldn’t see. What had prompted a shaping like this? What would make a nation want to fully isolate themselves? Were it not for the reference in the archives, Lacertin might not have known a place like Norilan even existed. Norilan might be safe with a shaping, but what did they lose?

What would the kingdoms lose by place the barrier around the border?

Lacertin had never considered that before. They might find safety, protection from Incendin attacks, but would there be other consequences that they hadn’t considered?

Maybe that was a question for the archivists. Or for Theondar to manage once he became the First Warrior. Lacertin would continue to serve the kingdoms, likely sent to fight Incendin. Anything more than that… he would have to find a way to be happy with what was asked of him.

The air pulsed suddenly, pressing him back.

Lacertin resisted, pushing against it with a shaping of fire and earth, but holding himself here drained him. He couldn’t attack Norilan—and didn’t want to even if he could—not if he wanted to return.

With one last glance at the barrier, he turned away and started back to the kingdoms.

* * *

W
hen he returned
, he noted that the stones of the shaper circle outside the university had chipped. Lacertin wasn’t sure whether his shaping had anything to do with it, or if it had been another shaper. As he leaned in to examine the stones, he heard a rustling of fabric behind him that told him he wasn’t alone.

“You keep following me,” he said without looking up. Earth sensing had told him that Jayna stood behind him, if not why.

“I wanted to check on you.”

Lacertin stood and wiped his hands on his cloak. Moisture remained from his travel and he smoothed the fabric. He wore borrowed clothes that were finer than his own, but not his sword. In time, he’d have to find that as well. It felt
wrong
to be without it.

“I think I’m fine,” he said.

Jayna smiled. “Fine? Master Wallyn told me what was needed to heal you. It sounds as if I underestimated your injuries.” The frustration in her voice didn’t match the wide smile on her face.

“Oh, he claims I would have died had I not accepted healing when I did. I think he was being overly dramatic.”

Jayna touched him on the arm and a shaping built from her quickly. Her eyes widened slightly and she shook her head. “You were masking your injury from me.”

“I don’t think I masked anything. Haven’t you learned that I’m not all that strong with water?”

“You’re plenty strong; you just don’t have a delicate touch with it like you need in order to be an effective healer.”

Lacertin laughed and stepped away from the shaper circle. The air had taken on an edge of energy that tugged on his fire sensing. He’d come to listen when he sensed things like that. Usually, it meant a different kind of shaping.

“I never claimed an interest in healing,” he said.

A rumble of thunder echoed suddenly. Lacertin glanced up to the darkening sky. Streaks of color swirled around clouds, giving shadows to the fading sun. Did a storm move in, or was there something else?

He waited, reaching out with earth sensing again, but detected nothing. If it was a warrior shaping, he would have expected whoever made it to appear in the shaper circle. No one came.

“What is it?” Jayna asked.

Lacertin tried something different, using a shaping of fire to pull on the edge of the air that he’d detected. “Nothing.”

“If it’s nothing, then why does your face look all contorted like that?”

Lacertin focused on the shaping. Whatever he sensed was vague and just on the edge of his ability to detect, but it
was
there.

He started forward, following it, holding his focus on what he sensed. The energy in the air increased as he left he university, as if the shaper created some sort of shield that obstructed his ability to sense the change in the air.

Another dozen steps and he recognized the shaping. Now there was no doubt. That
had
been a warrior shaping, but not one that originated from the university. Instead, it came from deeper in the city.

He continued forward. There was a reason warriors returned through the university. Mostly it had to do with tradition. There was a desire for other shapers to see the warriors, to feel bolstered by the strength that they demonstrated, and to continue to strive for the skills they displayed. But it was more than that. The stones that made up the shaper circle were designed to handle the huge amounts of energy involved. The lightning that warriors traveled on could damage surrounding buildings, especially if it went awry. Shapers had always simply agreed to travel out of the university, rather than anywhere else in the city.

The sense of the shaping lingered on the air, growing stronger the farther he went. Lacertin couldn’t tell
who
created it—he wasn’t strong enough for something like that, and wasn’t sure if it was even possible in the first place—but he could get a sense of the direction. The farther he went, the more certain he was of where the shaping originated.

“Lacertin?” Jayna asked.

He stopped outside the low wall circling the palace. The shaping had come from within the shaped garden, but why? Who would risk such a shaping so close to the palace, and so close to the ancient shapings?

“
Y
ou should wait here
,” Lacertin said to Jayna.

She glanced over at the palace and frowned. “Why are you returning? Didn’t you just come from here?”

Lacertin stopped outside the wall and glanced up as a deep, mournful bell began tolling from high above the palace.

His heart fluttered. There was only one reason the bell would ring: Ilton was gone.

“Is that—”

Lacertin swallowed back the lump in his throat. “Return to Wallyn. Help Veran.”

“Lacertin, let me help you.”

He glanced over at the palace. “This isn’t one where you can help.”

He would worry about the shaping near the palace another time. For now, he needed to pay his respects to the king.

With a shaping of wind, he jumped over the wall, leaving Jayna standing alone on the other side. He started toward the palace, wondering if he should be uncomfortable with the coincidence that Ilton died around the same time as he had sensed a warrior shaping near the palace, the kind of shaping that never happened anywhere but at the university.

He passed a few servants and noticed that they didn’t bother to look at him. As he stopped inside the palace, there was a solemn air. Near the base of the stair, he saw Bren.

Lacertin went to him. “Bren,” he started.

The master of servants turned. Tears welled in his eyes. “The king was a great man, Lacertin,” he started.

“When did he pass?” Lacertin asked.

“You know the custom, Lacertin. The family grieves first, and then the city is notified.”

He wondered if that had been where Ilianna had been when he’d come to the palace earlier. It would explain why the entire hall had seemed empty. Had Theondar known at that time? If he had, wouldn’t he have said something?

Probably not. Lacertin could imagine Theondar holding back that knowledge. Maybe he would have said something had Lacertin been more forthcoming.

“The room is locked, then?”

Bren nodded.

Could the shaping he’d detected been Theondar leaving the palace? He hadn’t been close to the king, not like he was close to Althem, but maybe Althem had sent him to spread word of the king’s passing. Other warriors and shapers would need to know.

“Why have you come?” Bren asked.

Lacertin shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, now, does it?”

He started down the hall, glancing at the shapers stationed at the base of the stairs, the same shapers he’d seen earlier. They watched him with a readied shaping. Lacertin felt better than he had when he’d been here earlier, well enough that he could ignore the way they stared at him and not fear that they might shape him with his back turned.

Without knowing why, he started up the stair at the end of the hall.

He stopped on the second floor and listened. His earth sensing told him that someone was here. Though he didn’t know who, he sensed someone in the princess’s rooms. Lacertin hurried down the hall, only stopping when he reached her door.

Something was different.

Lacertin couldn’t tell what it was. There was a vague energy in the outer room, like someone had recently shaped, but he didn’t see anyone here. He knocked at the inner door, but there was no answer. He knocked again, and again there was no answer.

A sharp buildup of energy pushed on him from a shaper nearby.

Lacertin opened the door and met little resistance.

Inside was empty.

That wasn’t quite right. A dark outline along the wall to his right looked like a doorway had formed in the stone, but it began to fade the longer he was in the room. Whatever had happened to the wall had happened recently.

If there had been a shaper here, was Ilianna harmed?

He owed it to Ilton to find out. Whatever else happened, the king had trusted him and Lacertin still served the king, even though he had died.

He stopped in front of the wall and pushed on the stone. The outline of the doorway had faded to nothing, disappearing completely. He knew something had been there. He’d seen it and, in the residual shaped energy, he felt it. Lacertin closed his eyes and listened to the stone, using earth sensing as he did.

There was a faint trail of energy. With a shaping of earth, he tried pushing on it. He felt resistance, so he added fire to the shaping of earth, contrasting the elements. With a soft groan, the wall shifted, opening up before him.

Lacertin staggered back. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it wasn’t a door opening.

What was this?

He ducked his head inside. If something had happened to Ilianna, if there
was
a shaper involved, he needed to find out.

The wall swung closed behind him, plunging him into darkness. He held his hand on the wall and made his way forward, using a combination of earth and fire sensing to reach for shapers lanterns, but he sensed nothing. His hand brushed a corner and he stopped, forced to turn.

Where was he?

Somehow, he’d found a way inside the walls of the palace, but where exactly? And where did this lead?

Without light, he might not be able to find his way out. He could always shape earth and force his way through the wall, but that seemed drastic. Besides, there was another concern he had to worry about: he wasn’t alone in this passageway.

Lacertin listened with earth sensing but came up with nothing. Whoever had come before him was already gone.

Not everything was gone. There was a subtle tug on his senses, a gentle wind that blew through here. Lacertin pulled on the wind, using a shaping to latch onto it, and followed it forward. He turned again, but this time, the wind guided him, easing him forward. He kept one hand on the wall as he went, trailing along it so that he knew when the direction changed.

When he noted the soft wind shifting, he stopped.

Another gap opened in the wall here. It was narrow, barely more than a hair’s width, but enough that he could feel the way the wind tried pushing through.

As he stood there, the gap began to fade to nothing, leaving the walls smooth.

This had been shaped as well. Lacertin pulled on earth shaping and traced along the wall, searching for an opening like had been on the other wall. For a moment, he wasn’t sure that he would find anything.

It was subtle, the barest of evidence that anything had been through here. Had he not been so attuned to the possibility that there had been a shaping here, he wasn’t sure he would have noted it. As it was, he almost missed it.

Lacertin used a shaping of earth, adding fire as he had when entering the passageway. The shaping formed around the wall, running in a zigzagging pattern up the wall and then back down, forming something like a doorway.

Readying a shaping, as he didn’t know what he’d find, he pushed through.

Lacertin blinked.

The other side of the wall opened into Ilton’s room. The smell should have alerted him first. The thick stench of the medicines mixed with the undertones of rot from his illness. A single shapers lantern gave soft light to the room.

He shouldn’t be here.

Custom demanded that royalty be given time alone to ensure the soul would rejoin with the Great Mother. Disturbing the dead risked this.

Yet Lacertin was not alone in the room.

Ilianna was here, standing next to the bed in a long, elegant dress of a shimmery blue. A matching blue gemstone pendant hung on her neck. She spun to look at him and her mouth pinched in a hint of surprise.

“Lacertin?” she whispered.

Of all the people who
hadn’t
recognized him when he returned, he shouldn’t have been surprised that Ilianna would. She took her hand off her father’s chest and clasped her hands together.

“We shouldn’t be here,” he said softly.

“You shouldn’t be here. I’m his daughter.”

“You’re still not allowed,” Lacertin said. There were many things that he’d done in his life that violated, or risked violating, one custom or another, but this ranked the highest of anything he’d ever done. “We can’t disturb him or he won’t have the chance to—”

Ilianna turned back to her father. “Do you really believe those superstitions, or are you repeating what you think you’re expected to say?”

Lacertin’s breath caught. Something had changed with her.

He took a hesitant step toward the bed and stopped next to her. “I’m sorry that he’s gone.”

She opened her mouth before closing it again. Then she shook her head. “It was too soon,” she said in a whisper. Her voice choked as she did and she wiped a hand across her cheek, pushing away the tear that had formed.

“He’s been sick for a while,” Lacertin said.

“Not sick. Poisoned.”

“You don’t really believe that, do you?” he asked.

“You’ve shaped him. You know about the illness coursing through his veins. Tell me that wasn’t a poisoning.”

“The healers don’t think he’s poisoned, Ilianna. If they had, don’t you think they would have said something?”

She sighed. “Are you so certain they didn’t?”

Lacertin thought about Wallyn and the skill he’d seen from him with shaping. Had there been a poisoning, Wallyn would have known. “The healers of Ethea are the best in the world,” he said.

She closed her eyes and nodded. “They are the best,” she said with a sigh. “You served him well. He always loved you.”

“I did what he asked of me,” Lacertin agreed.

“And what was that? You’ve been gone from the city for months, Lacertin. Whatever errand he sent you on must have been important.”

Lacertin frowned, thinking that he’d found the box in her room. “You don’t know? I thought your father included you in everything.”

“Not in this,” she said.

“Then why did you take the plates he asked me to retrieve?”

Ilianna turned away from her father slowly and met Lacertin’s eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I saw them, Ilianna.”

“You saw nothing, Lacertin.”

He grunted. “Would you like me to return with you to your room so that I can show you what I saw? Now that Ilton is gone, you don’t have to worry about what he’ll say—”

“He’s not gone,” she said softly.

Lacertin frowned. “Not gone? The bells toll. Of course he’s gone.”

She turned back to her father and touched his chest. A shaping built and he turned quickly, searching for who might be doing it before realizing that it was
Ilianna
who had shaped.