The Tyranny of Shadows

by Timothy S Currey

  He pushed himself upright, and like a bending twig he thought he might snap if he went too fast. His back clicked as he moved. There was some sound playing on the edges of his hearing, like the scuffling of an animal in the distance. Choson and Roos slept nearby, spread in heaps with limbs at all angles. Sleep had taken them as suddenly as it had Gillis, it seemed. He took the bear skin that had covered him and lay it across Roos, covering the other furs the giant wore.

  He watched them sleep. They would be hungry. Perhaps it would be the day Choson might be convinced to eat with the others. Then they could all be poisoned whenever it was most opportune. But he had to wait at least until their visit to Wilhelmina. Verandert would greatly desire to discover her.

  He left camp in the direction of the scuffling noises. Amelia had not been where the others lay, and he could guess at what she might be doing. He came upon her in a clearing, sword and dagger in her hands, arching and bending and twisting as she buried the blade-tips in unseen enemies all around her. She shifted and moved around the clearing, seeming to Gillis like a dancer, with her legs extending in counterpoint to the thrusts of her weapons. Her hair was plastered to her forehead though the air was ice-cold.

  “You should sleep,” he said softly, arms folded against the chill.

  She spun to face him, the tendons in her neck taut and her eyes wild. She lowered her weapons when she saw that it was Gillis. He drew a little closer to her.

  “Couldn’t,” Amelia said with a weak smile.

  “Why?”

  “Well, I had watch.”

  “You could have woken someone.”

  “I was wide awake the whole night through. You lot needed it more than me.”

  “How is it the Waker left us tired and not you, by the way?”

  “What I gave us back there was only a pinch. Wore away fully by nightfall.”

  “So it was not the Waker keeping you up?”

  “Erm, no,” she said. She replaced her weapons in their sheaths, but continued to fiddle with their handles for a while and did not meet Gillis’ eyes. She drew breath to speak more than once, faltering each time. Gillis knew well enough to let her talk when ready and not push her. Eventually, she went on, “Well, I must confess, actually, that I will have trouble sleeping in the coming days, no matter the exhaustion.”

  She pulled her lips in a tight grimace for a moment.

  “You will?” Gillis said softly.

  “I have foolishly been taking Sleeper powder each night. More of it, and more frequently, than is wise. I’ve run out, though, and I cannot sleep unaided now.”

  “What cures that?”

  “Only time. Or, maybe, if we reach Wilhelmina’s and I can scrape together some more from what she has—” Her eyes darted to Gillis’ for a moment. “No. I suppose I ought to quit the stuff.”

  “It is a terrible thing to depend on. It’s a weapon!”

  “I know.”

  “What possessed you to start that habit?”

  Bizarrely, her lip trembled and she covered her eyes with a hand for a moment. She sighed and pressed both hands on her face before wiping her eyes, sniffing, and looking back up at Gillis.

  “I’ve been a fool, that’s all,” she said with a tear-laden voice.

  Gillis leaned forward and lay a reassuring hand on her arm, and she clasped him back. Pity welled up as a thick feeling in his throat, and he let it stay. I will use it, he thought, to seem sincere. One does anything for the act. One does anything.

  “What do you mean, a fool?” he asked.

  “I was funny back there, with Choson cutting my skin. I can still hardly bear to be cut by anyone else, even for a legitimate reason,” she said.

  “Pauloce. I should have seen it.”

  “But you don’t know all of it, Gillis. Do you know what happened the night Pauloce’s men caught me?”

  “Tell me.”

  When she spoke it was like a dam bursting, and Gillis saw from the sudden and total release of tension how strained she had truly been. She erupted all at once into wild flashes of her eyes and fretful gestures of her hands, her voice taking on a low, strained tone he had never heard from her before.

  “I whispered in the Hearing Oil that night. The dose wasn’t lethal for a reason. I thought I could goad him to come out alone. But he brought all these guards. I thought, no problem, I’ll slaughter the lot and save him for last, then gut him and bleed him like a pig and smash all the rest into paste. He had them trained well, ready for Mordenari. They caught me and once my hands were tied there was no gathering Momaentum, so they beat me. Pauloce never knew it was me—that I had grown up there. Like the girl he was trying to buy from Bonifus. I had been a plaything for that dog. Wilhelmina taught me some magic when she saw my talent, which let me I defend myself and make it difficult for him; I usually put him to sleep. There were other girls, though, so he went after them instead of me. But I burned up the whole time with more hate than a little girl ought to know. Practicing magic was the only thing that kept my mind elsewhere, so practice I did. It led me to join the Mordenari. And aren’t I the most talented thing they’ve ever seen? I can weave Momaentum like a spider with silk. I changed my wretched, heavy face so that I could see something fair in the mirror. But the shadow of Pauloce was ever looming over my bed at night, and each time I woke I expected him to be there again. I forged the writ with Athers’ help. He knew all of me, past and all, and he loved me, but his arms were no refuge. I was burning up with rage; I was restless and sleepless; I was obsessed. Utterly without hope. Then, that night when Pauloce and his men beat me and tied me down and he had me on that table…”

  She held onto Gillis’ arms with both hands now, until they throbbed where she was gripping. The mad, trembling look in her eyes gave way to a soft, watery, broad, pitiful smile.

  “And then you, Gillis. You burst in that door. You blessed man, you came and saved me when none other would have. Since then, the nights have still been bitter, impossible to sleep through. The rage has left me, yet there’s this … restlessness that remains. You gave me hope, and I think of the future and of going on in spite of everything. I want to see the places where the sea bursts out of the rock in geysers; I want to see that forest where the trees knit together so the people walk on it like a path; I want to sail west so fast that I race against the sun’s setting. I never wanted such things, and now I want all of them. Because of you, Gillis.”

  Gillis held her to his chest. The top of her red hair brushed his chin. He could not think of anything to say. To utter an outright lie seemed wrong. She had committed unforgivable crimes, yes, and would see her crimes paid for soon enough. But she was so troubled and haunted that it gave Gillis pause. Finally, his words came.

  “Your troubles will be over soon enough. I promise.”

  Part 4: Death Comes

  Chapter 16

  Over the next days as they drew near to Wilhelmina’s home, Amelia thought of using the last of her powders and fluids to enchant every weapon and strip of cloth they had with every spell she could dream up. She could leave the bothersome satchel behind, for one. The danger was growing, and they needed to be fully prepared at every moment. Besides, she could get more of almost any material from Wilhelmina. In spite of it all, she felt a lifting of her great burdens when they were on the road and making fine progress under a cold, clear sky. The appearance of the High Monk’s robe had, in the end, been a great incentive. She practiced diligently each morning, and whistled new strengths into her sword and daggers when the group took a rest. How could a silly robe be a bother? She had three very fine allies on the path with her. Best of all was Gillis. He understood better than the others perhaps ever could.

  It was in these radiant spirits that she caught up to Roos on the path. They were walking along white gravel by the bank of a shallow, brightly shimmering stream, sometimes passing under the shade of a bending tree above.

  “Would you like to learn a spell, Roos my dear?” she asked.


  His eyes grew wide and he nodded fervently.

  “I warn you, it may be difficult.”

  “I care not—I will study hard.”

  “You may not even see a glimmer of it for days.”

  “Come, teach me. I am ready.”

  “Alright, now let’s stop a moment,” Amelia said. “Close your eyes, and keep them closed.”

  He shut his eyes and waited breathlessly. Choson and Gillis were speaking curtly some way ahead. Amelia suppressed a mirthful grin.

  “Hold your hand in front of your face,” she said.

  He did.

  “Now concentrate, focus your entire mind on the flow of Momaentum around you. You are a river-weed in its current.”

  He bared his teeth and swayed slightly.

  She gasped and he opened his eyes.

  “What?” he said.

  “You did—but how could … I have never seen it learned so fast in all my life,” Amelia muttered. His beard twitched and he puffed his chest out.

  “Close your eyes! Truly, you are ready for a real spell. Repeat after me: Lungs are crushed by paw of bear,” she said.

  He repeated it.

  “Now the victim has no air!”

  The moment that was repeated, Amelia put a hand to her throat. Roos kept his eyes closed, deflating slightly at the apparent lack of magic. She collapsed to the ground, face red, making all manner of theatrical choking noises. Roos’ eyes burst open and he fell to the ground beside her. His hands hovered frantically over her throat, her arms, her chest, but he could do nothing to stop her choking. He shook her with both hands.

  “Please! Please, Amelia, breathe! I did not mean it!” Roos yelled.

  Choson and Gillis came running back.

  Roos was blowing air in Amelia’s open mouth when she gave one last, violent convulsion and lay still.

  “No! It cannot be!” Roos said. “Curse me! Curse this terrible power!”

  “What is this?” Gillis said.

  Roos stammered and choked. Amelia felt his enormous hands brush her forehead. The pain in her abdomen from the suppressed laughter almost made her tremble.

  “Roos,” Choson said, “the dead do not smirk.”

  “What?” Roos said.

  Amelia snapped upright and yelled, “Boo!” He fell back, all color drained away from his face in a moment, and as Amelia wheezed with laughter he rose to his feet, dusting himself off. His cheeks now turned a deep red, and he would not look anyone in the eye.

  “Did Amelia give you a scare?” Gillis said.

  “No,” Roos said, a clear lie. “I was acting also. I knew the game.”

  Choson helped the still-laughing Amelia to her feet. They started again on the track, Roos far in the lead and keeping his face well turned away from the others.

  “That was cruel,” Choson said to Amelia. “And a waste of time.”

  “It was a fine prank. Just what I needed,” she said.

  He left her there, and she was still smiling, but the Gweidorian bastard had taken most of the joy out of her smile. What harm does a prank do in the end? We’ve all been tricked before. Roos will be laughing later. That look on his face! she thought. I’ll be chortling the whole day through. Maybe the whole year through.

  Choson caught up with Roos ahead, and the two spoke in low voices. Gillis came shortly after to walk beside Amelia.

  “We are close to Wilhelmina’s home?” he asked.

  “Yes. We will leave the stream this afternoon, cut through some woodlands and hills tomorrow, and then be there. It’s at the far end of Pauloce’s lands, not very populated, but still we must take care.”

  “Will she be dangerous?”

  “She won’t harm us.”

  “I feel she could harm a great deal if she wished,” Gillis said.

  “You need to let that old foolishness go,” Amelia said. “I could harm a great deal if I so wished, and you are safe enough with me.”

  “Blood Magic is …” Gillis said, then smiled and went on, “you are right. I am only thinking in my old ways. Give me time and I will see as you do.”

  “Well, you have until tomorrow evening to see properly,” Amelia said. “At least be polite. She demands good manners in others.”

  “Why did Verandert leave her be for so long?” Gillis said.

  “She hides well,” Amelia said.

  “He can search just as well.”

  “She told me Verandert fears her,” Amelia said. “It might be so, though I think they fear each other. She never displays or uses any great measure of her power, never provoking Verandert to invest true effort in a search for her.”

  “If she is his equal, her home will be quite the refuge for us,” Gillis said.

  “Hm. I never thought of it like that,” Amelia said. “I suppose we might stay, if she would have us.”

  “I fear I would be an unwelcome guest,” Gillis said with a meek smile.

  “Nonsense. I will make her welcome you.”

  “My thanks.”

  Amelia laid a hand on her stomach. Hunger had twisted in there all day, but now it was a sharp pain. Gillis wore a very strained look on his face, and though he kept it mostly turned away from her as they walked, she caught more than one glance of it.

  “That’s the face of a hungry man. I’m famished. Shall we stop early?” she said.

  “What?” Gillis said, looking at her. “Yes … yes, I’m quite hungry. Let’s stop.”

  They called to Choson and Roos, and the four of them split up to find a meal. Amelia pushed her way into the brush, and shortly after startled a herd of deer away. She tore after them and flung a dagger just in time to catch a young doe in the neck. When it finally bled out and ceased thrashing, she hefted it and slung it over her shoulders. It was small, but it would be enough for now. She passed Gillis, who was on his knees leaning over something unseen with his pack beside him.

  “What have you found?” she said. He spun around, startled.

  “Nothing, as it happens. A common weed that looked like an herb,” he said quickly.

  “Worry not, I’ve found plenty for us to eat. Would you help?”

  He rushed forward and they carried the doe together by its hooves. Choson and Roos were already waiting by the stream and were building a fire. Roos had found nothing, Choson a small handful of river-clams.

  “It is well we stopped early,” Gillis said. “This will take some time to skin, clean, and cook.”

  “Let me help, then,” Choson said, and cast the clams back into the water. “I see no use in separate meals.”

  Gillis smiled at him. Amelia sat across the fire from Roos as the other two skinned the doe. Roos, sword beside him, prodded the fire until the larger logs caught, and then he stared at the flames. He seemed diminished in size, his expressions flat and morose.

  “Come, don’t sulk, Roos,” she said. “It was only a little trick.”

  Roos looked at her for a moment, then glanced down at the fire, shaking his head. At that moment, Choson clutched his shoulder and gasped. Gillis snapped at him to hold the doe steady for his knife.

  “Sing a song,” Amelia said, but Roos did not look up.

  Choson turned to her. “Amelia, leave him be.”

  “I can’t have him sitting there bringing me down,” she said. “Here, Roos, give me your sword. I’ll enchant it to be even better.”

  “Do not trick him,” Choson said in a low voice, leaning in close.

  “I won’t. On my honor, cross my heart, all of that.”

  Roos made no move, even when Amelia stood and took his sword. She laid the enormous thing across her lap and pulled the vials and powders from her satchel one by one. It could not be enchanted in the same manner as her own weapons, being so large. What, then, could work? The enchantment that had ended up dissolving all the metals would have been perfect, had it not gone wrong.

  A new idea struck her, so she set to work chanting over the sword, casting powders and oils along its length where they clung to
and melted into the metal of the blade after colorful moments of iridescence and brightness. She worked inscriptions across it, slowly, inch by inch along its length as the doe roasted above the fire. Roos turned to look at her more than once, and soon was staring intently at her every move with the sword.

  “Here, it’s done. Test it with me,” she said, holding the grip out to him.

  He took it slowly. Amelia sprang up and stood in a clear space a few feet away, and he plodded toward her, sword nearly trailing on the ground like a shamed dog’s tail.

  When he was close, she jabbed her sword toward his neck, and in the same moment her blade met Roos’ with a dull clang. It nearly unbalanced him; the blade had been magically directed without his intending it, and he had only just clung onto the handle. She twisted and struck at his opposite side, but again his sword parried hers of its own volition. Roos gaped.

  “You’re welcome,” Amelia said to the dumbstruck Roos.

  She left him there, where he felt the blade with his fingers and held it up to the light, trying to read the inscriptions. The doe was ready, and Gillis cut away strips from the flank and piled them on a clean rock. They all ate these quickly, and then broke camp, leaving the rest of the carcass by the side of the stream.

  They decided that, being so close to their destination, they ought to continue on toward Wilhelmina’s home into the night. They set off in the late afternoon, and were soon away from the stream, beating through the dense woodland. The sky was iron grey from clouds that produced a constant drizzle. There was little talk, and they walked separately but within sight of each other. Amelia was left with her thoughts.

  Not even a thank-you from Roos, she thought. Well, if he is waiting for me to apologize for what I did, his wait will be long indeed. He can’t see the humor when he’s embarrassed. But then … she thought as a small uncomfortable idea rose up, Choson acted strange regarding Roos’ reaction. I suppose it may have brought up something for Roos. The thought bloomed into a stifling, warm shame creeping across her neck.