“Don’t patronize me. I’m going to get your confession.”
Ilseth smirked. “How? Force?” He chuckled. “Ashalia, you may be safe from Essence thanks to the Tenets, but don’t for a second think that you can overpower me.”
Asha reached into her pocket and drew out a small black disc, holding it between her forefinger and thumb for Ilseth to see. “Familiar?”
Ilseth’s smile slipped, though he still didn’t look concerned. “You’re a Shadow, Ashalia, in case you’ve forgotten,” he said, his tone verging on mocking. “You can’t use that.”
“But I don’t need to use it.” Ilseth was wrong about her ability to activate the Vessel, but she didn’t need him to know that right now. “I just need it to make contact with your neck. Or have you forgotten how it paralyzes? I certainly haven’t.” She stared confidently at him. “One touch, and you won’t be able to move. And I’ll be able to do whatever I like to you. You can feel everything, you know. See everything, hear everything. But you can’t make a sound.” She gave him a cold smile. “We could be here for hours, and no one would know.”
There was a long silence. “You don’t have it in you,” said Ilseth eventually.
“There was a time I didn’t,” admitted Asha. She gestured to her face. “Before you did this to me.”
She took a step forward.
Ilseth scrambled up from his desk, scowling at her. “Why even bother? This section of the Tol has no Remembering, child. Even if I said what you wanted to hear, no one else would believe you. You’ll be thrown in prison. If you leave now, though… I won’t chase you. I swear it.”
Asha laughed in his face. “You swear it? That’s reassuring.” She took another step forward. Ilseth took a corresponding step back, looking concerned now, even though the desk was still between them.
For a few seconds Ilseth contemplated the locked door; realizing that there was no way to safely slip past Asha and the black disc, he dropped all pretence of calm. “You’re a stupid little girl,” he spat furiously. “You were supposed to die with all the others. And you will die now, I promise you. But it won’t be quick like them. I’m going to give you over to the Venerate. Do you know what they will do to you? You’ll beg for death.”
Asha took another step forward, reaching the desk. “Where are Davian and Wirr?” she asked, steel in her voice.
“I wouldn’t tell you even if I knew,” snarled Ilseth, tensing himself to spring at her.
Then suddenly he was flying backward, as if an unseen hand had gripped him and slammed him against the wall. He shouted in alarm, struggling against invisible restraints and staring at Asha in wild-eyed disbelief.
“It’s not possible,” he gasped. “You can’t be—”
“Enough.”
Ilseth’s head snapped around at the voice from the other side of the room, though Asha didn’t take her eyes from his panicked features. From the corner of her vision, she could see Elder Eilinar appear as he removed the Veil.
“He knows more than he’s saying,” said Asha, tone cold, still not looking around.
“No doubt,” said Nashrel wearily, “but he’s said enough to damn himself, and this need not get dangerous. We’ll get the rest from him, don’t worry about that.” He stared at Ilseth with a mixture of sadness and disgust. “I defended you when Ashalia made her accusations.”
Ilseth looked as though he was about to protest his innocence; then, seeing the expression on Nashrel’s face, he spat in his direction instead. “You are a fool, Nashrel,” he said, making another furious attempt to free his hands. “And you have no chance of getting information from me. You should have let the girl torture me.” He gave Asha a leering smile.
Asha stepped forward and pressed the black disc against Ilseth’s neck.
The Elder’s face and body immediately went still.
“What are you doing, Ashalia?” Nashrel asked. His tone was curious rather than worried.
Only Ilseth’s eyes were alive now, rolling between her and Nashrel as they spoke. Nashrel didn’t know. All she had to do was to place a finger against that disc, let it tap her Reserve, and Ilseth would suffer the same fate he had given her.
She raised her hand… and then let it fall again.
“It was the only way to improve his company,” she said, taking her eyes from Ilseth’s face for the first time since she’d entered. She glanced across at Nashrel. “You’ll send word to the palace of any information you get, as we agreed?”
“Of course.” Nashrel watched Ilseth with a thoughtful expression. “This will stay between you, me, and a few select Elders I know I can trust. But if we have word of your friends, we will tell you immediately.”
“Thank you, Elder Eilinar.”
She looked at Ilseth again, pinned helplessly to the wall. Suddenly feeling sick, she turned and left the room.
She did not look back.
Chapter 38
Davian cracked his knuckles, giving Malshash a confident grin.
“I’m ready.”
Malshash smiled, shaking his head. “You’ve spent half your life trying to use Essence. What makes you so sure you can do it now?”
Davian shrugged. “That wasn’t really my fault. I was being taught to look for it in the wrong place,” he pointed out. “At the school I was always told that the only way to access Essence was to tap into my Reserve—the internal pool of Essence that every Gifted’s body produces. But I’m not Gifted; I don’t even have a Reserve. As an Augur I needed to be extracting it from the world around me instead.”
Malshash inclined his head. “True enough, but knowing that isn’t even half the battle. You still need to learn to control Essence, to harness it properly. Remember it’s an energy, active, a force in and of itself. Nothing like kan.”
Davian smiled. “I’ve probably studied more about the nature of Essence and how to use it than any Gifted my age,” he said wryly. “I’ve always felt that if I could just access it, I could use it as well as anyone.”
Malshash grinned. “Very well. This is the final skill I can teach you, so let’s see whether your abilities are a match for your confidence.”
Davian took a deep breath and reached out, feeling the kan all around him, permeating everything. It had been almost indistinguishable at first, but now—only a couple of weeks into his training—he could touch it, grasp it almost without needing to think. Malshash never said so, but Davian could see the look in Malshash’s eyes after he’d picked up the basics of a new skill in an afternoon, an hour. He was good at this. Very good. It came to him as naturally as breathing.
He concentrated, extending his senses using kan, looking for the telltale glow of Essence. Malshash pulsed with it, but he knew better than to try to extract any from him—Davian would likely just end up hurting his teacher by accident.
He focused harder. A little way down the road, he caught the faintest glimpse of a glow through the mists, which were especially heavy today. He moved forward, concentrating on the luminescence.
Slowly the haze around the light thinned, revealing a tall oak tree. Its glow was far from bright, but it definitely had Essence running through it. Davian reached out.
Something blocked him.
He pushed against it, gently at first, but with increasing frustration. There was a space of a few meters around the tree that he could not seem to enter with his kan-enhanced senses. He scowled, opening his eyes.
“I can see the Essence flowing through the tree,” he said in irritation, “but I can’t get to it.”
Malshash crossed his arms, a smile threatening to creep onto his face. “But you were so confident a moment ago.”
Davian looked at him wryly. “Fine. I don’t know everything yet,” he said in as humble a voice as he could muster. “What am I doing wrong?”
Malshash raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t wonder how there are trees growing here, healthy and well maintained?”
Davian looked again. Sure enough, the oak trees lining the
street were neatly trimmed; they had clearly been set there as part of the city planning. He frowned. “You’re right. They should all be dead, surely?”
Malshash shrugged. “They’re like the books in the library. Preserved in their original state.” He gestured around. “This place was built to absorb small amounts of Essence from almost everything except the human body, then channel it to the Jha’vett. Because of that, there were a few things the Darecians had to shield against kan. If they hadn’t, I doubt the trees would have grown here in the first place, let alone survived unchanged for a couple of thousand years.” He slapped Davian on the back. “Anyway, all you need to do is go up to one and touch it. That will put you inside the shield, and you won’t be blocked.”
Davian rolled his eyes. “So I wasn’t doing anything wrong after all.”
Malshash grinned. “Not as such, I suppose.”
Davian began walking toward the nearest tree but then hesitated, turning back.
“How am I still alive?” he asked quietly. “I thought you said I had to get Essence from outside my body to live.”
Malshash was silent for a moment. “You’re getting it sporadically from what I can tell,” he admitted. “I’ve tried to see on a few different occasions, but the lines of Essence are so fine, so thin, that even I have a hard time making them out. And I actually know what to look for, so that is quite an accomplishment.” He sighed. “I’d rather hoped you wouldn’t wonder too much about this. You draw some from the fire each night and each morning. The library is shielded from the rest of the city; when you’re in there you draw it from the Adviser, I think.” He paused. “Occasionally, when you run low, you draw some from me.”
Davian stopped in midstep. “From you?” It obviously hadn’t hurt Malshash, but the thought of stealing someone’s else’s Essence—their life force—made his skin crawl.
Malshash made a reassuring gesture. “Tiny amounts,” he said. “And you’ve needed it to help you concentrate.”
Davian blinked. Now that he thought about it, he’d barely slept these past couple of weeks. An hour or two each day, perhaps? How was that possible? His brow furrowed. Why had that not occurred to him before as being odd?
He sighed, focusing again on their topic of conversation. “But if I were alone, without a fire, on these streets for long enough…”
Malshash shrugged. “I don’t know for sure. My recommendation is to not put yourself in a situation where you find out.”
Davian grunted. “Good advice,” he said, his enthusiasm dampened as the reality of the dangers he faced struck home once again. Malshash had been pushing him harder and harder these past few days; though he’d said nothing, Davian knew the time must be approaching when he had to return, go back through the gray void. He twisted the ring on his finger nervously. Despite Malshash’s apparent confidence in Davian’s abilities, he’d pulled no punches when it came to the perils of the rift.
Davian shook his head, clearing it again before striding up to the tree he had been looking at before and placing his hand against the rough, dry bark. He closed his eyes.
He could feel the Essence now, pulsing and vibrant within the tree. He carefully drew kan around it. It was different from the kan he normally used—that would have engulfed the Essence in a moment, extinguishing it completely. Instead he positioned the kan and then… hardened it, for want of a better word. Partly it was how Malshash had described it, but partly it was what felt natural. It was this new form of kan that he used to draw the Essence toward his body.
Nothing happened at first. Then the glowing stream slowly poured toward him, into his hand and up his arm, into his chest. He felt warmth and life flow through him, intense and beautiful. He opened his eyes to see his hand glowing with raw energy.
He spun and flung the Essence at a nearby wall.
It didn’t have the effect he’d hoped. Rather than causing the wall to explode into pieces, the bolt of energy simply rippled and vanished, absorbed into the air. Of course; Malshash had just been telling him how the entire city was an enormous conduit for Essence. He should have tried something else.
His body still buzzing, he stepped away from the tree, examining it in fascination. The leaves, which had been a bright green against the dull grays of Deilannis only moments earlier, were now shriveled and black. The trunk and branches, too, looked as though they had been wasting away for years. He gave the withered trunk a gentle tap, then leaped away as the entire tree collapsed in a puff of black dust. He coughed furiously, trying to get the taste of dead wood from his mouth and lungs.
“What happened?” he asked.
“You took the life force from the tree,” Malshash replied, his gaze fixed on where the oak had once stood. Now there was only a pile of ash-like grit littering the stone. He shook his head, looking disturbed. “You took all of it, Davian.”
Davian finally managed to clear his throat. “Is that good?”
“It depends on how you look at it, I suppose,” said Malshash, sounding undecided on the answer himself. “It’s certainly… unusual. I’ve seen it done before, but only in times of great need, great stress. And it was certainly not good then.” His expression twisted. “Regardless, it seems like that lesson went rather smoothly. Away from Deilannis, I have no doubt you will be able to draw large amounts of Essence, should the need arise.”
Davian grinned. “Definitely good, then.”
Malshash held up a cautioning hand. “You must be very, very careful with this ability, Davian,” he said softly. “What you did to that tree? You could just as easily do that to a person. Accidentally, if you are not careful.”
Davian looked back on the pile of black dust and paled. “It could kill them?”
Malshash nodded. “Your body is used to drawing on anything it can to survive; I can only assume that’s why you’re able to take so much. But if you drained a human being like that… well, Essence is their life force. Remove it completely, and I think you can guess the consequences.”
Davian nodded. “I’ll be careful,” he promised. He gave Malshash a cautious look. “Aside from that…”
Malshash laughed. “It was very impressive, Davian. The bolt you threw looked like it would have blown the wall apart if we were anywhere else.”
“It was less spectacular than I’d hoped,” admitted Davian. “If only it were—”
He cut off with a grunt as pain flooded through his stomach, and every limb went suddenly weak. He collapsed to the ground with a moan, clutching at his belly. It felt… empty. Painfully so. He was so hungry.
Malshash rushed forward, dropping to his knees beside him. Without a word he drew an apple from his pocket. Davian took it and devoured it; as he ate the pain lessened, and soon he was able to sit up straight again.
“What was that?” he asked, dazed.
Malshash rubbed his hands together nervously. “Your bond here is weakening, Davian. It has lasted much longer than I would have thought possible, but it’s finally happening. Our time together is drawing to a close.”
Davian took a couple of deep, steadying breaths. “Now?”
“No.” Malshash shook his head. “We still have a few hours—I think waiting until this evening would be best, maybe even tomorrow morning unless these attacks start increasing. That at least gives us the opportunity to run through a couple of more exercises, get you as prepared as we can.”
Davian stared at the apple core in his hand. “How did you know I would need this?”
Malshash sighed. “Remember what I said, about a shadow of a shadow of your body remaining in your own time? It’s still a physical presence, Davian. And it’s had neither food nor water in the last couple of weeks.”
“So… I’m dying? In my time?”
Malshash ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s all just theory, but I suspect so. Your body there won’t need sustaining like a normal person’s would, but eventually it is going to need nourishment.”
“So that’s why I’ve been so hu
ngry,” muttered Davian. He scowled. “You leave this until now to tell me?”
“I didn’t think you needed the added pressure.”
Davian just grunted, in no mood to argue. “So what now?”
“What you just felt was a stronger connection with your body in your own time. The rift is trying to correct the anomaly of your being here. It’s trying to send you back,” said Malshash. He sighed. “All we can do is break your binding to my time. Choose when to begin the process.”
“By destroying this,” said Davian, holding up his hand to display the ring.
“Exactly,” said Malshash. He gave Davian a considering look. “I think we should practice your Reading, one more time. It’s probably the best exercise for mental focus, and you’ll need all you can get once you’re in the rift.”
Davian hesitated. “What about Control?” He’d been wondering whether Malshash would teach him that, ever since he’d read about the ability. He’d been stunned to learn it was truly possible—there had always been rumors of the Augurs being able to manipulate other people’s thoughts, but nobody had ever really believed them. Even back when the Augurs still ruled, he knew that people had been skeptical of such a power’s existence.
Malshash shook his head. “No. Control is like shape-shifting—ill-advised, and very dangerous.” He looked Davian in the eye. “This time you need to trust me. Don’t try it.”
Davian gave a noncommittal shrug. “Very well. Reading it is,” he said, trying to keep the disappointment out of his tone. He took some deep breaths, calming his mind. “I’m ready. What am I looking for?”
Malshash shrugged. “I’ve left a few things open, this time. See what you can find.”
Davian nodded. He closed his eyes, pushing through the kan until he was inside Malshash’s mind. He still hadn’t quite grown used to the feeling: he knew who he was, knew all his own thoughts, but if he tried to think of something—anything, really—it would be Malshash’s mind to respond, not his own. And Davian could then examine that response with his own mind.
The Shadow of What Was Lost Page 47