Free Serpent of Fire by D. K. Holmberg

rumbling request, drawn from a restless slumber where he dreamt of men like Seanan, but with faces that he didn’t recognize, each working shapings that seemed designed to attack—to harness —the elementals. Even in his dream, there was a certain anxiety to what he sensed, a troubling awareness that shapers did not truly understand what they did to the elementals.
    Then the shaking rumbled through him, demanding his attention. For one terrifying moment, Tan thought the rumbling came from another attack on the city, that perhaps Par-shon, or even Incendin, had returned, determined to finish the city’s destruction. But the rumbling was not the same as he’d felt when the city fell. This was deep, rolling through his bones, an unrelenting demand.
    Golud.
    Tan sat up and jumped from the bed on a shaping of wind. Lying next to him, Amia rolled and opened her eyes sleepily. Tan stood in place, not wanting to move, focusing on trying to understand what golud sent. The earth elemental was difficult for him to reach, but there was no question that was what he sensed.
    “What is it?” Amia asked.
    Tan looked around the wagon he shared with Amia when he stayed with the Aeta. He’d come to her late, after finally moving past Seanan’s request, long after most of the Aeta had drifted away from the Great Fire at the heart of the circle of wagons once again camped on the outskirts of Ethea. In the week since Par-shon attacked, they remained just outside the walls of the city. Close enough to Ethea for its protection, but far enough that they were separate. From what Tan understood, the Aeta felt the separation important, regardless of his urging them to remain in the city.
    When Tan had come to the fire, Amia hadn’t questioned him. Likely she had some understanding of what he’d experienced, sensed through their bond, and the concerned expression on her face had been enough to give him some measure of relief.
    The wagon assigned to Amia was simple. The walls were brightly painted like most of the Aeta wagons, her wagon in shades of yellow and orange. Amia had added a wall of a vibrant blue at some point during the last week. Hooks on the wall held personal items, like her dress. A tall shelf rested against the wall near the door. A wide band of silver that gleamed in the moonlight filtering through the open windows remained untouched. Tan wondered if Amia would ever claim the marker of office, or if she would always prefer the gold band gifted to her by Roine.
    There were other items in the wagon, things that he once would have found intriguing and valuable. Trinkets from places like Chenir, or silks from Xsa, even pots made with Nor steel, their quality unrivaled elsewhere in the kingdoms. Now Tan simply looked past them. The only valuable within the wagon that he cared about was Amia.
    “Golud,” he said.
    She sat on the edge of the bed and tipped her head, as if straining to listen. Tan often wondered if she could use the connection they shared to reach the elementals, or if she simply went unaware. She shook her head slightly, as if knowing his thoughts.
    “I can’t reach them the same as you, if that’s what you’d like to know,” she said.
    Tan smiled tightly as he turned toward the door. The steady rumbling hadn’t eased since starting, still demanding his attention. Could anyone else feel it, or was it meant only for him?
    “Go,” Amia said. “See what it is.”
    “You could come,” he suggested. Everything felt better having her along with him.
    She shook her head. “Tomorrow we will be bringing Lyssa here.”
    Tan frowned before remembering that she was the child Roine had discovered, the girl with the ability with spirit. The transition might be difficult for her and Amia intended to make it as smooth and welcoming as possible. Now that she served as First Mother, she had responsibilities, but more importantly, she also had purpose. A change had come over her since she had taken on the title, one that