Broken of Fire: The Cloud Warrior Saga, #9

By D.K. Holmberg

A new threat to the elementals emerges that puts everyone Tan cares about in danger.

After the most recent battle, the Mistress of Souls is missing and Tan must find her before another attack. With Amia's pregnancy changing the connection between them, Tan fears involving her and must rely on new friends, including a strangely intelligent draasin hatchling for help. Worse, an old enemy has returned, one surprisingly welcomed by Theondar. 

A darkness nearly destroys his draasin friend and reveals the true threat to the elementals. To save them, he needs to understand the secret of this darkness, one that leads to a surprising realization about the defeated Utu Tonah. Tan risks everything to stop it, but even after everything he's been through, he still might not be enough.

• Language: English
• Publisher: ASH Publishing
• Release date: Nov 5, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386801214

Book preview

1

A HATCHLING EMERGES

Tannen Minden sat cross-legged in the cavern deep beneath the ground. Heat pressed on him, but he ignored it, as he ignored most heat. The draasin crawled around his shoulders—still thinking himself small but already much larger than he’d been a month ago, before nestling in and resting around Tan’s neck like some sort of necklace.

Are you finished? he asked.

He didn’t expect an answer, not even through the fire bond. The draasin sat within the fire bond, but not strongly enough—not yet, at least—for him to be able to answer.

With a shaping of fire cupped in his hand, Tan surveyed the cavern. The other draasin, the second hatchling, rested along the wall. She wasn’t nearly as rambunctious as the first hatchling, at least not with Tan.

Most of the remaining eggs lay dormant. Tan hadn’t attempted to hatch them, not until he knew whether he had the capacity to sustain them. His hesitance was more than that, though. Sashari claimed the draasin were tied to the land, and he didn’t know which egg belonged where. More than that, hatching one of the draasin required strength and commitment from the fire bond, and each time that he attempted the hatching, he feared sacrificing too much strength.

A distant laughter rolled through his mind. Fire does not end, Maelen. It merely changes form.

The bond can be weakened, he said to Asgar. The draasin remained near the tower in Par, mostly to keep watch over Amia. Tan felt protective toward her, and always had, ever since the shaped bond that she’d placed on him demanded it, but now… now there was another reason for him to be protective of her.

And more reason to fear what might be coming.

That was the reason that he had come to this place. Studying the ancient Seal, he hoped to glean some understanding from the Records of Par, but so far found nothing but confusion. The runes were helpful but required him to decipher them slowly. What he really needed was a way to simply understand them, but Honl had been gone for too long and Tan didn’t know when he would return. As far as he knew, the wind elemental might not return, at least not anytime soon.

Tan understood Honl’s need to complete whatever quest he’d taken. Honl sought understanding, and given the new challenge they faced, what else could they do? They didn’t understand what had motivated Marin, but Tan had a growing suspicion that the Utu Tonah had come to Par for something other than conquest. And not necessarily power; at least, not at first. Still, he hadn’t managed to determine why the Utu Tonah had come.

The draasin jumped from his shoulders and slithered to one of the eggs. With a streamer of fire—now strong enough to melt stone—he focused his attention on one. This was green, with streaks of red.

Again? he asked.

Asgar chuckled again in his mind.

Maybe he would not be given the choice of when the draasin would hatch. Maybe the draasin would choose.

Fire calls to fire, Asgar said.

You’re starting to sound like him, Tan sent.

I consider that a compliment.

You should.

Asboel—Tan’s first bond—had been a powerful and wise elemental, and had sacrificed himself so that the other elementals might survive. Most days, Tan missed him, but some days were worse than others, leaving an aching within him. Watching the young draasin had helped, but it would not—and could not—take away the pain of his lost friend.

The egg began to glow a bright orange, filled with the heat and flame from the first hatchling. Tan focused on the egg and added a shaping of his own to what the draasin did, pulling strength from the fire bond, feeding the fledgling flame from the draasin. Within the egg, he sensed the growing connection, the awakening, as the draasin started to stir.

The second hatchling crawled away from the wall and shook her head. The light from the flames in the cavern played off her spikes, leaving a silvery reflection. She coughed, and a weak finger of fire sputtered from her before adding to the others.

You want to help? Tan asked.

He lifted the hatchling and she curled her tail around his arm, pinching with her claws. She made a soft growling sound deep in her throat, one that he had at first thought was some kind of warning, but had learned that it was more of a contented sound. This time, he thought it more a sign of the effort she exerted.

The egg continued to heat. Brilliant green flashed and the red streaks along the side glowed darker than the rest. Inside the egg, the draasin began to move with even more agitation, pressing on the shell. The soft shell began to bulge, and then, slowly, a claw poked through.

Tan didn’t help pull the draasin from the egg. Something within the fire bond—maybe his faded connection to Asboel—told him that the draasin had to emerge on its own. If it did not, fire might reclaim it. Even hatched, it was still possible to be reclaimed.

Now that the draasin began to poke its way free, Tan shifted his shaping, feeding no longer into the egg but into the draasin itself. As he did, he felt the growing connection within the fire bond. This little draasin—another female—clawed and stumbled toward it. Tan surged power and flame, shining a path. When the draasin joined the bond, there came a flash of light, and then the draasin began to feed on the fire bond without his help.

He sighed.

The second hatchling growled again, and her tiny wings unfurled and flapped. She wasn’t large enough—or strong enough—to fly quite yet. Tan hadn’t learned how long it would be before she managed flight. But she still tried.

A girl, he said.

He fought the urge to name the draasin. With the first hatchling, it had been easy, but with the second and now the third, he had a strange desire to place a name on them, but refrained. Names had power, especially to the elementals. Tan had named Asgar, but that had been at a time of need. Asgar’s sister still hadn’t claimed a name.

The draasin crawled free from the egg and staggered before falling to the stone.

Tan frowned. Neither the first or the second hatchling had done that.

The fire bond had told him that he couldn’t help the draasin from the egg, but once free? How could he leave her if there might be something he could do to help?

He set the second hatchling down. She growled and spat fire at him; it washed harmlessly over him. The first hatchling licked at the newest with a long, rough tongue, but the third hatchling didn’t move.

Tan lifted her and cradled her against his chest. Life fluttered within her, but with less of the strength than he remembered when the other two hatched.

Asgar?

Hatching does not always succeed, Maelen. Tan recognized the sadness in his tone, and knew that Asgar thought this hatchling would fail.

Is there anything that can be done?

The draasin would not. Sashari, Asboel’s mate and Asgar’s mother, spoke to him through the fire bond, her voice growing more distinct with each word.

But me?

You are Maelen, she answered.

What does that mean?

It means that I do not know.

Tan ran his hand along the draasin’s back, feeling each of the spikes. Heat attempted to surge from her, but it was weak, and even with the fire bond feeding the draasin, there was not the same connection that he’d detected with the others.

He couldn’t do nothing. Tan cared too much for the elementals, too much for the draasin in particular, to watch as one failed and died. Seeing one draasin die was enough for him.

Using spirit and water, mixing fire within it, Tan sent the shaping through the hatchling. First, he sensed for the injury the draasin had sustained, and then building the shaping and using that as he attempted to heal the failing connection to the fire bond.

Fire and spirit told him that the draasin sat on the edge of the fire bond but the connection was fractured and injured. Luckily for the hatchling, he had experience repairing connections to the bond.

But it took calling on strength from the fire bond itself.

With the draasin feeding on the bond, pulling more strength from it strained him. Tan pulled as much as he could and then drew on his own shaping strength, avoiding the fire bond. Taking more from the bond, especially as the hatchling fed, ran the risk of the hatchling not having enough to feed upon.

Tan felt the fracture within the draasin. It wasn’t new, as if it had been present when the draasin had been little more than an egg. Could it be that this draasin was not meant to survive?

Tan used fire and spirit and attempted to seal the fracture.

Nothing happened.

He pulled on more fire, but that ultimately drew from the fire bond. Tan had wound so tightly within the fire bond that he drew upon it without intending to do so. Releasing that connection, he shifted to the other elements. Spirit called to him the most strongly, and he recognized that spirit would be necessary to heal this draasin.

But he didn’t have enough strength pulling only on spirit.

Combining the elements, though, could increase his strength. Normally, he would have pulled through his connection to Amia and draw strength in spirit from her, but in her current state, he had no interest in weakening her any further. And he didn’t know what effect that might have if he were to pull on spirit from her. Probably nothing. Amia would know if there was an issue and would prevent him from taking too much. But what if he was unable to control what he drew?

So he combined each of the elements, melding them as he had when first learning to shape spirit. A surge of spirit came from him, and Tan pressed this into the draasin, separating out a mix of fire. Would it be enough? Could he actually heal the draasin? Or would this be one who failed to survive the hatching?

The draasin shivered.

And then spoke within the fire bond.

Maelen.

The voice was soft, weak and thready, but there was no doubting that she was there within the bond, more fully than either of the other two hatchlings. Had Tan’s healing sealed it more tightly to the fire bond? Had he done something that the Great Mother would not have approved of?

But the draasin lived. Tan felt that life, that energy, as it fed upon the fire bond. It was a raw sense, and full of strength and potential. Alive. That was enough.

You should not be here so strongly, he said to her.

The draasin crawled to him and attempted to spit fire, but failed. Thin wings unfurled, and the draasin shook. There are so many here.

Where?

In this place. In fire.

Tan wondered what the draasin might mean, but realized that he must be referring to the fire bond. You hear the others within the bond. There are many other elementals.

Not elementals. Like me.

Draasin?

The newest hatchling reached Tan’s feet and circled around them before sinking her claws into Tan’s leg and starting to climb. As she reached Tan’s waist, and the claws began to pierce his skin, Tan scooped her up and held her so that he could look upon her. Pale yellow eyes stared back at him with more insight than Tan would have expected.

You hear the other draasin?

They are quiet, but they are here with me. Most would like to awaken.

Tan looked around at the other eggs. Did this hatchling imply that she could reach the other draasin? But they were still dormant, still waiting for the right time.

You are Maelen. What am I?

The question surprised Tan. Neither of the other draasin had questioned him about a name. Either they hadn’t cared whether they had a name or they didn’t understand that they did not. Tan would not be the reason that they suddenly questioned.

But this one, she already asked.

He used a sensing of fire and spirit and sent it through her. As he did, he realized there was a connection within her to more than fire. Much like with Honl, spirit had lodged within her, almost as if the healing from the fracture had required the placement of spirit.

Had Tan fused spirit to her? Doing so would change something about her. That much he had seen with Honl, and had seen with what the Utu Tonah had done with the hybrid elementals. Tan hadn’t wanted to change her. He had only wanted to heal her, but hadn’t been able to do that with only fire.

You are too young to have taken a name, he finally answered.

You will give the name?

I have before. The draasin can also choose the name.

The newest hatchling attempted to spit, and a surge of fire, but also something that felt like a pulse of spirit, came from her. What name should I choose?

Tan smiled. Regardless of her change, this one was precocious. There was something about that that he appreciated. You should choose whatever is fitting. You will know.

And if I have you choose?

What would he do if she asked him to choose? Would he agree? Normally, he would say that she was too young for him to assign a name, but if she were to choose on her own, why would he not?

I would help, Tan said, but there is someone you should meet before you decide.

Amia would know whether there was a connection to spirit that he needed to account for, though Tan already suspected that there was enough of a connection from what it had taken for him to heal her. And if that were the case, would she change as much as Honl had, becoming something as different from a draasin and fire as Honl now was to ashi and wind?

Then I will wait.

The draasin squirmed in his arms until he set her back down. Once on the ground, she approached the others and sniffed. Each snorted, sending steam and flames, but there was no communication in the fire bond, not as there would be when they were older. All he heard was the third hatchling in the bond, trying to reach them—and failing.

After a few attempts, she looked up at Tan, the question clear in her eyes: what was she? You are draasin, he said, but other than that, Tan had no answers.

2

THE ATHAN’S CALL

On a shaping of wind and fire, Tan returned to the estate in Par he shared with Amia, holding tightly to the newest hatchling. Through the bond, Amia already knew that he had something to show her, but he wasn’t sure that she fully understood what had happened. And her agitated state told him that she had something to share with him.

Lowering to the ground, he swept into the estate, keeping the youngest hatchling tucked under his cloak. He would have to return for the other two later. For now, he had left them in the cavern overlooking the other eggs. They needed little other than food, and the cavern had served as something of a nest for them, almost as much of one as the nest Asboel and the others had used in the kingdoms.

Maclin, the servant of the house and a faithful of Par, nodded to him as he entered. You return sooner than the last time you disappeared like this.

Tan smiled. Maclin suspected where Tan went, but didn’t know for certain. Most who had known about the cavern thought that it had been lost during the attack. Only Tan and Amia knew that it remained. Eventually he would need to share its existence with others. Elanne, as Mistress of Bonds, deserved to know. He had once wondered about her allegiance, but no longer. Not since she and the Bond Wardens had helped him during the battle with Marin.

Is she still here?

Maclin nodded, seemingly unperturbed by the fact that Tan didn’t answer the question. She is. And she is not alone.

Tan frowned and reached through earth and spirit to understand. As he did, he recognized the source of Amia’s agitation, though he still didn’t understand it completely. I presume the other draasin⁠—

Remains with the large one. They roost atop the tower.

Tan suppressed a smile. How would Sashari and Asgar react to the comment that they roosted, as if they were nothing more than birds? Already, Asgar teased him when Tan asked the draasin to allow the students to ride. Traveling with the draasin gave them a respect for the creatures that they couldn’t otherwise gain. Most wanted nothing to do with the draasin, but at least they had no interest in hunting them. But Asgar made a point of reminding Tan each time that he asked that he was no horse. Still, Tan suspected that the draasin enjoyed the opportunity to show off.

They are in the library, Utu Tonah, Maclin said.

Tan stopped and turned to Maclin. I think it is time that title disappears, don’t you, Maclin?

What would you be called? The people need a leader, and you, surprisingly, have proven as capable as we could have hoped.

Tan sniffed at the comment. If you won’t call me Tan, you may call me the same as the elementals. To them, I am Maelen.

Maclin’s brow furrowed as he frowned. Maelen is no sort of title.

It would be for me.

With that, he left Maclin and reached the library, pausing with his hand on the door. What sort of conversation would he find within? Amia had never cared for Cianna. She understood that she served the elementals, and she recognized that Cianna had no real appeal to Tan, but fire burned seductively within her.

But he heard nothing that indicated an argument. Through earth and spirit sensing, he sensed nothing that would tell him there was an argument. In fact, there was nothing.

Only the simmering sense of agitation that came through the bond with Amia.

Tan pushed the door open and found Amia and Cianna sitting across from each other in front of the wide hearth. Books and journals filled the stacks of shelves on either side of the hearth. When they had first taken over the estate, Tan had hoped to find something that would help him understand the Utu Tonah, but had only found texts that reminded him of what was in the archives in Ethea. It wasn’t until he discovered the Utu Tonah’s private work room that he found what he sought. Still, he suspected that there was more that he hadn’t discovered.

Amia wore a slim striped dress with yellow and green cascading down each side. To Tan, the growing bump in her belly was visible through the dress, but he wondered how many others would even notice. Cianna was dressed as she often was, in a shimmering shirt that clung to her skin, this of a burnt orange that matched her hair. A faint haze of heat radiated from her; likely she wasn’t even aware that she shaped as strongly as she did.

Cianna stood when he entered, but Amia did not. Her eyes went to his cloak and he shook his head slightly.

Athan, she said.

Tan grunted. Not Athan, I think, he told her. Not since I came to Par.

Cianna frowned. "You’ve abandoned the kingdoms after everything that you did to save them?"

How long had it been since he’d been back? A month? Possibly two? Tan had begun to lose track. Long enough that he knew Roine would have growing frustration that his Athan had essentially abandoned his assignment. But then, Tan had never served as Athan in a traditional way. Tan was more like Roine in that, doing what he knew needed done, regardless of what the king—or in the case of Roine, the King Regent—thought he needed.

I have not abandoned the kingdoms, Cianna. Is that why you’ve come? You fear why I’ve been gone?

She shook her head. Roine hasn’t said how long you’ll be gone. Zephra… well, Zephra seems unconcerned as well. It’s almost as if everything changed for them.

Tan sniffed and stopped behind Amia, resting his hand on her shoulders. The draasin squirmed briefly beneath his cloak and then settled. Did Cianna’s gaze drift to his cloak or was that his imagination?

Everything has changed for them, Tan said. No longer did they fear Incendin attacking. No longer did Par-shon threaten the shores. They had found peace, something Tan wanted, and thought that he had found, but coming to Par-shon had changed his desires. He had a title that required a different type of responsibility than he had before, one that made him sympathize with Roine. What would his friend say about that when they saw each other next?

But not for you? You trade one battle for another, it seems, Cianna said.

I continue to serve as I always have. The elementals need my assistance. And there was much that he didn’t understand yet about what had happened here. A bond had been nearly forced upon Amia by an ancient entity, but one that Tan did not understand. What he needed to learn about that strange entity was beyond him at the moment, so he focused on what he could accomplish, with the draasin and trying to rebuild Par.

Cianna crossed her arms over her chest. Are you going to show me? she asked.

Tan smiled. You know?

Know? Sashari practically forced me here!

"That’s why you came?" Tan asked. When he’d heard her voice growing louder, he thought that his connection to her had strengthened, but that hadn’t been it at all. She had been on her way to Par.

The draasin don’t often get excited, but something happened where Sashari got excited. I still don’t know what it is, only that you’re a part of it.

You didn’t share? he asked Sashari.

The draasin snorted, a harsh buzzing sound