Prelude to Fire: Parts 1 and 2 by D. K. Holmberg

up in these lands, that was a sentiment that most needed.
    Veran snorted. “And the fishers of Vatten are chastised for bringing our children aboard the ships at the age of seven. How many are lost to the climb?”
    Lacertin ran his hand across the rock again. What would he think were he to climb to the top now? Would he have the same sense of wonder, or even the same answer as when he was young? Like most growing in Nara, he had wondered where he belonged. Climbing to the top of Dholund gave those who made it the chance to see into Incendin. It was after this that those who would attempt to cross would do so. It was when Chasn had crossed.
    “Too many,” Lacertin said. Then he sighed. “Probably as many as your children are lost on the ships.”
    He continued around the rock but saw nothing else that would tell him what had happened. Lacertin hadn’t expected to, but had hoped to find answers. It seemed that was all that he ever wanted to find.
    It took nearly an hour to make it all the way around the rock. When he stopped on the other side, he stared out into Incendin. A haze of heat layered over the ground. Wind moved across the barrier but didn’t gust with the same ferocity as other places within the kingdoms. A low, mournful howl caught on the wind, and was followed by another.
    Lacertin’s ears perked at the sound and he shaped water between his hands, drawing what moisture he could out of the air to create something like a lens for him to look through. It was a trick he’d learned from a Doman shaper. Within the kingdoms, the shaping was easy, but here, with as dry as the air was, he practically had to draw the moisture out of himself.
    Another howl came, growing sharper than before. The hounds must have acquired their scent. They were creatures of fire, somehow like the lisincend, but also not. They couldn’t shape, but they burned with a simmering fire. Lacertin had always been intrigued by them.
    “We should be going,” Veran said.
    “You fear the hounds?” Lacertin asked.
    “Not the hounds, but we have no need to let them claim our scent.”
    Through the shaping, Lacertin caught sight of the nearest hound as it raced across the hard ground. “Will it be able to cross the barrier?”
    “I don’t know,” Veran said.
    “Then we stay.” When Veran arched a brow at him, Lacertin shrugged. “We need to know whether it would hold out even the hounds.”
    “And if it doesn’t?”
    Lacertin stared through the lens. The hound was long and sleek. Short, dark hair covered its hide, and long teeth jutted down over its lower jaw. A shimmering sort of haze, thicker than what radiated naturally from Incendin, rose around the hound, as if trying to veil the creature from them. Another ran alongside the first, suddenly joining it, then a third. A pack.
    “Then we will have to fight them off.”

Chapter 7
    T he hounds howled as they raced toward the barrier. Lacertin knew that he should ready a shaping, but he was more interested in watching the hounds as they streaked across the hard ground. As a child in Nara, hounds had been rare, but they had hunted, unopposed by any barrier. Most knew to run from them, and there were enough sensers throughout Nara to hide from them, to keep the hounds from capturing the scent, but even then, the hounds occasionally managed to kill. Lacertin rarely had the opportunity to simply observe them.
    They were powerful creatures and moved with a sleek grace. Their lean bodies flexed with each jump, leaping almost as much as they ran and chewing up the distance faster than they should be able to manage. The lead hound flicked its gaze as it ran before fixing Lacertin with a steady and determined gaze. He almost took a step back under the intensity.
    When the nearest hound struck the barrier, it howled, a loud and painful sound that echoed, piercing through the hot air as it bounced off the rock. The barrier held and the hound paced on the other side, pawing at the ground.
    Veran