The Shadow Of What Was Lost (68 page)

“Stop!” he sobbed, writhing
helplessly. Already the finger was split down to the second joint. He moaned,
heart pounding wildly, trying to focus on anything but the pain. “Stop,” he
choked again.

After what seemed like an
eternity, he felt the force exerted upon his rent flesh vanish. Essence flowed
around him; his hand began to cool, and something dropped wetly to the floor.
The pain eased. He sat up from his prostrate position, then turned away and
retched, the bile acidic in his throat. The small, pulpy mass of twisted and
torn flesh next to him was all that remained of his forefinger. On his hand,
the dark red blood had vanished, and a smooth, scarred stump sat where the
finger had been taken off. Only a throbbing remembrance of pain remained.

“That is a reminder,” the man
said quietly. “I chose only a finger, to punish your insolence. I could as
easily have chosen something more… important.” Davian shuddered, scrambling
backward away from both the mangled digit and his attacker, until his back was
pressed against the cold stone wall. The man seemed not to notice. “You are not
here to question,” he continued, “but to serve as your master sees fit. Do you
understand?”

Davian nodded, eyes wide with
fear.

“Now. We received your message.
You think the escherii's attacks have finally borne fruit – that the heir is
hiding in Caladel?”

Davian swallowed, his nod
vigorous this time. “Nashrel insisted on holding the Trials there early this
year. It’s for reasons of efficiency, supposedly, but that’s a weak excuse at
best - it seems clear they are trying to get the boy out of harm’s way.” He
paused. “I have already made sure I am part of the group going there. If my
suspicions are correct, Eilinar will reveal the true purpose of the journey
just before we leave.”

“Good.” Suddenly the stranger was
moving, striding across the room; Davian pressed further back against the wall,
as if trying to sink into the stone itself. The man stopped directly in front
of him, towering over him.

Then, in one smooth motion, he
retrieved something from beneath his robes. He held it out to Davian.

“Take it,” he instructed.

Davian leaned forward hesitantly,
then removed the item from the man’s gloved hand, almost snatching it in his
haste to retreat again. He managed to drag his gaze downward for a moment,
giving the object a quick glance.
It was small, small enough to fit snugly in his palm, and appeared to be a
metallic cube of some kind.

As Davian took the object, the
man’s sleeve pulled back slightly. Davian saw it for only a moment, but there
was a symbol tattooed on his wrist – the ilsharat, the symbol of the Boundary,
he thought – that seemed to glow as Davian touched the box. He looked back up
straight away, knowing he was not supposed to have seen what he had. The other
man, fortunately, appeared not to notice.

“There is a boy in the school at
Caladel called Davian. He is an Augur - barely aware of his abilities, however
he knows how to discern deception. You know how to counter that?”

“Of course,” said Davian, still
dazed.

“Good. You are to give him that
box, and tell him that he needs to deliver it for you. It doesn’t matter what
reason you give, just ensure it is something that he can believe, and that it
motivates him sufficiently to go through with it. Allow him to leave the school
safely and undetected.”

Davian nodded. He had a hundred
questions, but he knew better than to ask most of them. “Where is he to take
it?”

“North,” replied the man. “Tell
him to head north. He will know where to go thereafter.”

Davian coughed. “My lord, if
there were something more specific, perhaps it would be easier to….” He trailed
off, realising what he was saying. “As our master wishes. What of the heir?”

“He dies, as planned. Along with
the rest,” said the man. “No survivors, no-one to confirm that Davian is
missing. Understand: this is even more important than killing Torin Andras.
Davian must deliver the box at all costs.”

Davian repressed a frown. That
was explicitly different from what he’d been told before. Still, there could be
no doubt that this man had been sent by Aarkein Devaed. Whatever had caused the
change in plan, it seemed he was not to be privy to it.

He gave a weak nod. “It must be
important,” he said cautiously.

The man paused. “It will ensure
our master’s return from his exile in Talan Gol. It will ensure our victory,
Tenvar.” He leaned forward. “Is that motivation enough for you?”

“I will not fail you,” Davian
managed to stutter out, but the other man had already spun, heading towards the
door. A shadowy swirl of kan covered the messenger as he reached the heavy oak,
and he seemed to melt through the wood, vanishing from sight. As soon as he had
gone, the room was once more plunged into darkness.

Davian huddled further into the
corner, eyes squeezed shut, nursing his hand and choking back the sobs that
threatened to explode out of him now that he was alone.

He did not move for a very, very
long time.

Davian gasped as he dragged
himself out of Tenvar’s mind, stumbling backward and then crashing to the
ground as Nashrel tackled him.

He allowed himself to be dragged
to his feet and shoved bodily against the wall, mind still reeling from the
impact of forcing his way into Tenvar's thoughts, as well as what he'd just
seen.

"Give me the knife,"
said Nashrel, his voice high with tension. "And don't move."

Davian released his grip on the
bloodstained blade, letting it fall to the ground, his mind spinning. The
stranger had been linked to the box, just as Caeden was. What did that mean?
That Caeden was associated with him, somehow? That the box had been linked to
someone else initially? It hadn't been Caeden himself; the man in the hood had
been too tall, too thin - and the hand Davian had seen was wrinkled, the hand
of an older man.

Another thought struck him. Given
what the stranger had said at the end, why would Malshash have told him to
follow through on getting the box to Caeden... unless Malshash wanted Devaed to
be freed? Davian went cold at the thought. He'd never once considered it
before, but after what he'd just seen....

He clenched his fists. The memory
had told him a little... but not enough. And in many ways, it had only raised
more questions.

"What did you do to
him?" Nashrel's voice broke through Davian's train of thought.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't trying
to kill him," Davian reassured the Elder. "I just needed to disrupt
his concentration so I could get to his memories. I knew you'd be able to heal
the wound. He'll be okay."

"I'm not so sure about
that."

Davian frowned, twisting from his
position pressed up against the stone wall to see what the Elder was talking
about.

Ilseth lay, mouth and eyes wide
open, on the floor. Nashrel had already used Essence to heal his leg wound, but
the man's expression was... vacant. Lifeless. His chest rose and fell, but it
was as if a light had gone out behind his eyes.

Davian grimaced. Malshash had
warned him about the possibility of doing permanent damage.

For a moment he felt glad, like
perhaps some form of justice had been done.

Then he recoiled at the thought,
felt bile swirling in his stomach. He'd wanted vengeance for those who had died
at Caladel, certainly. For what had happened to Asha. But he wasn't the kind of
man to take it with violence.

Was he?

Davian swallowed. His emotions
had been... murky, ever since accessing Malshash's memory back in Deilannis. He
still felt like he'd done those things at the wedding, killed all those people.
Just as he now rubbed at his forefinger, vaguely surprised to find it intact.

He shook his head to clear it. He
would deal with whatever this was later. For the moment, he had more important
things to worry about.

He shivered as he remembered the
hooded man’s words to Ilseth.
It will ensure our victory.

Then he froze.

"We need to leave," he
said to Nashrel suddenly.   

The Elder grunted. "
You
certainly do. Because I warned you what would happen if you used that
knife."

"No." Davian looked at
him, urgent. "There's something you need to know. We need to get to
wherever you store your Vessels."

Davian's heart pounded as he
explained. Whatever else happened, whether he was an enemy or just a pawn in
all that was happening, Caeden needed to be kept far, far away from that box.

***

Caeden sat on the low stone wall
next to Kara, silent as he digested what the princess had just told him.

He stared out over the empty
courtyard, the only other people in view a pair of distant guards as they went
about their pre-dawn patrol. The space would be full of soldiers soon enough,
and given the news, today more than ever the mood during their training would
be sombre. The Blind had defeated General Jash'tar's army. Were coming straight
for the city.

Caeden shivered a little, and he
wasn't entirely sure it was just from the crisp night air.

He glanced across at the
princess, chest constricting a little as he realised that it meant his time
with her was rapidly drawing to a close, too. These early morning conversations
between them had become a routine over the past week; Kara would slip out of
her rooms without her father's guards realising, knock at his door, and the two
of them would come out here and spend hours just... talking.

He knew the princess was being
nothing more than friendly, but Caeden had begun to live for those times.
Though he’d often enjoyed his talks with Wirr, Davian, Taeris and the others,
the spectre of his past had always hovered over those exchanges. Around Kara,
that never seemed to be the case. Their conversations were more relaxed,
lighter somehow even if the topics were serious; it seemed that with her, for
just a few hours each day, he was able to forget all the problems he faced –
that they all faced – and just take pleasure in someone else’s company.

Today, however, was different.
Kara had looked exhausted when he'd opened his door this morning, and now he
knew why.

"How soon until they
arrive?" asked Caeden, his stomach churning.

"A couple of days - maybe
less, if they push. Nobody is really sure." Kara watched Caeden's
expression. "What are you and Taeris going to do?"

Caeden hesitated. He hadn't
confided Taeris' contingency plan to the princess - not due to a lack of trust,
but rather because Caeden didn't want to put the princess in yet another
awkward position. Knowing her as he now did, Caeden had no doubt that if he
told Kara that he and Taeris were intending to break into the Tol, she would
feel guilty for not acting on the information. Would feel party to whatever
happened as a result.

But he realised now that he
couldn't leave her completely in the dark, either. She hadn't made him put the
Shackle back on - if he left without warning, she would think he'd just run
away, abandoned the city. Abandoned her.

Before he could speak, though, he
spotted a harried-looking Taeris hurrying towards them. Caeden grimaced, but
nodded to the older man and stood.

"Caeden," said Taeris
in half-irritated relief when he got a little closer. His eyes widened as he
recognised Caeden's companion, and his demeanour transformed. He gave a low
bow. "Your Highness. I... I'm afraid I will need to borrow Caeden for a
while."

Kara nodded slowly. "That is
fine, Taeris," she said, suddenly the cool and formal version of herself
that Caeden now saw only on occasion. She turned to Caeden with the hint of a
wry smile. "Perhaps there will be an opportunity to continue this sometime
later today."

She began to walk away. Caeden
watched her go in frustration, knowing why Taeris had come to find him.

"Your Highness," he
abruptly called after her. "Please wait a moment."

He hurried over to the princess,
ignoring Taeris' surprised look.

"I'm not sure we will get
the chance to speak again before the Blind arrive, Your Highness," Caeden
said in a meaningful tone, locking gazes with Kara. "I think other matters
may... keep me away."

Kara looked between Caeden and
Taeris for a few seconds, then nodded in understanding. Her eyes were suddenly
sad.

"Then we will just have to
wait until after everything is over," she said softly. She stepped
forward, her lips brushing against his cheek. "Fates guide you,
Caeden."

Caeden swallowed, blushing.
"You too, Kara," he said, quietly enough that Taeris couldn't
overhear.

Kara just nodded, then turned and
disappeared back into the main palace building without another word.