Holding his breath, he started up them as quickly as he could, praying that the dim starlight was not enough for anyone to see the silhouette clambering upward. It was slow, exhausting progress with the princess over his shoulder, and he felt more exposed the higher he climbed. His skin crawled, and every moment he expected to hear cries of alarm.
Finally, though, he gained the upper balcony, relieved beyond measure to see that one of the windows had been left ajar. He opened it a little wider and climbed awkwardly through, careful not to make any noise. There would doubtless be guards posted outside Karaliene’s quarters; any suspicious sound and they would come rushing in.
He carried Karaliene over to her bed, laying her gently across it. He held his breath as she started to stir, but the princess simply rolled over into a more comfortable position, eyes still shut. Caeden exhaled, then exited through the window again, closing it until the latch clicked neatly behind him.
He paused for a moment on the balcony, awestruck by the view. This was the highest accessible point in all of Ilin Illan; before him the city was laid out like a living map, the outline of every building discernible in the starlight. The gracefully sculpted white stone structures seemed even more cohesive from here, each unique and yet unified with the others, each a piece that fit to its neighbor with liquid elegance. Beyond the streets he could see a ship slipping down the silvery-black river, visible only thanks to its bobbing lights.
Even with the details obscured by darkness, it was breathtaking.
But he didn’t dare tarry to enjoy the sight, especially here where an errant glance from a guard would undo him. He turned for one last glance at the princess, to ensure she was still sleeping.
He froze.
Karaliene was sitting up in her bed, eyes open, staring through the window at him. There was a look of curiosity on her face, but no alarm.
Caeden didn’t wait for her to cry out. He fled for the stairs at a dead run, getting to the bottom just ahead of a patrol. He made it back to his own quarters unseen, out of breath as he finally shut the door and collapsed onto his bed, heedless of the bloodstains that marred his clothing. He felt the cold metal of the Shackle press against his back.
Without hesitation he reached around and grabbed it, then placed it against his arm.
Nothing happened.
“It won’t work. You can’t put it on yourself,” came a deep voice.
Caeden leaped to his feet again, relaxing only a fraction when he saw its owner.
Taeris was standing in the doorway to the adjoining room. He had evidently been waiting for Caeden’s return; the older man was watching him closely—not fearfully, exactly, but with an abundance of caution.
Caeden found himself coloring, and he let the Shackle fall to the ground with a clatter. The full toll of the night finally crashed down on him, and he sank back onto the bed, holding his head in his hands.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
He truly was. He’d betrayed Taeris’s trust, hedged his bets so that he didn’t have to choose a side. He realized now that it was time to make that choice.
Taeris gave him the slightest of smiles, though his expression was still stern. “You came back. That’s a start.” He walked over to the bed, seating himself next to Caeden and putting a hand on his shoulder.
“But it certainly seems we have much to talk about,” he added quietly.
Chapter 43
Caeden watched as Taeris leaned back, evidently trying to absorb everything he’d just been told.
Caeden had spent the past half hour explaining the events of the evening and, to a lesser extent, what had precipitated them. About how Alaris had contacted him through the dok’en, had warned him against revealing information to the Gifted. Had warned him to distrust them completely.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Taeris’s expression was more thoughtful than angry.
Caeden looked at the ground. “Alaris said that if you found out who I truly was, you would kill me.”
The scarred man nodded slowly. “You were scared.”
Caeden’s cheeks burned. “I should have trusted you,” he said, his voice catching. “I don’t know why I didn’t. You’ve shown me nothing but kindness and good faith since we met.”
“Trusting someone is one thing, lad. Trusting them with your life is another entirely. I can’t say that this has made things any easier for us here, but… I understand.” Taeris’s tone was gentle, with only a hint of the frustration he surely must have been feeling.
“Thank you,” said Caeden softly. He paused, then gave Taeris a cautious glance. “How long were you waiting?”
“I came as soon as I felt that Essence blast. Not many of the Gifted around here could have produced that,” Taeris observed drily. He rubbed his forehead. “The men you fought. You’re certain they were Blind?”
“I think so. They didn’t have the helmets, but they were wearing black armor. They were a good deal faster than normal men, too.”
“And yet you killed all five of them.” Taeris raised an eyebrow.
Caeden hesitated. “I can do what they do, only… better. And without the armor.”
“You think it’s the armor giving them these powers?”
“I’m sure of it.” Caeden had already had some time to think about this. “Slowing your passage through time like that is an Augur ability; those five men couldn’t all have been Augurs. Combine that with the way their armor absorbed Essence…”
Taeris gave a thoughtful nod. “And as I said, I felt the blast from here. This is bad, Caeden. Very bad. It means that even if the Gifted get a chance to fight, we’re going to be less effective than we’d hoped.”
“I know.”
There was silence for a few seconds, then Taeris began pacing. “The question is—how did they get in? The city is supposed to be locked down; everyone is being searched as they enter. Men transporting black armor would certainly have been stopped.” He paused, frowning. “Unless, of course, they have been here for some time. Waiting.” He glanced at Caeden. “When did you make contact with Alaris?”
Caeden calculated. “Just after Deilannis. A month ago, perhaps?”
Taeris nodded to himself. “A week before the invasion began. Those men could have been sent ahead to help Das kill you—they could have slipped into the city as recently as a couple of weeks ago.” He stared worriedly into space as another possibility occurred to him. “Or they may have been sent ahead for a different purpose entirely, and Alaris simply took advantage of their presence here.”
Caeden swallowed. “A different purpose… like what?”
“Scouting. Sabotage. Fates only know.” Taeris was silent for a few seconds as he considered it some more, then shook his head. “Regardless—the Blind are clearly afraid of you, Caeden. Whatever is locked away in that memory of yours, it’s evidently something they don’t want uncovered.” He rubbed his chin. “When you spoke to Alaris, did you tell him where you were going?”
“No.” Caeden hesitated, grimacing as he recalled the conversation. “He knew I was traveling with Gifted, though. He probably could have guessed where I was headed… but he couldn’t be certain, so maybe Das was the bait. He knew that if I really wanted answers, I’d have to come here. Sooner rather than later, too, once I heard about the invasion.”
“That sounds like it would be about right.” Taeris bit his lip. “Unless…”
“Unless what?”
Taeris sighed. “I’ve been thinking a lot about the Blind, Caeden, and there’s always been something that hasn’t quite made sense. They’ve never acted like a conquering army, trying to maintain control of the territory they’ve gained. And if they were sent by Aarkein Devaed, why just a thousand men? We know there are at least dar’gaithin out there as well, so why not send them, too—everything he has?”
He leaned forward. “But think about the timing of all this. If you’re such a threat to them… maybe when Alaris made contact with you and realized that you m
ight get your memories back, it forced them to act early. The Boundary is weak, but we know it hasn’t collapsed yet, not completely—why not wait until that happens, and send everything they have at once?” He nodded to himself. “I think… there’s a possibility this entire attack is about you, Caeden. I think they may have lured you here, and are coming for you before you can remember anything. While you’re vulnerable.”
Caeden felt a chill as he considered the possibility. “So I’m responsible for even more deaths,” he observed, his tone heavy.
“No. You can’t think like that. This has to be a precursor to Devaed’s real attack; the only reason he would send an advance party like this—giving us warning, time to prepare for whatever comes after—is if you are somehow a threat to him. Perhaps his only threat.” Taeris shook his head. “It’s only a theory. But if I had to guess, I would say that he can’t risk you remembering… whatever it is you know.”
Caeden shifted uncomfortably. “Even if you’re right, I’m not going to be able to remember anything from a cell,” he pointed out. “The princess knows I took off the Shackle, saw me sneak out. It’s only a matter of time before I’m locked up.” He rubbed his forehead, glancing at the door, still half expecting guards to come crashing through it at any moment.
“We will have to see how Karaliene reacts before we make any plans,” Taeris admitted. “If she wants to clap you in irons, then we will have to adapt. But I suspect she will at least hear you out—and from everything you’ve told me, there’s a good chance she will be grateful.”
Caeden gave Taeris a puzzled look. “Grateful?”
Taeris smiled, looking amused. “You did break her trust, Caeden, but… you also saved her life. You saved her and brought her back here, when you could have escaped and left her to her death. You may think what you did was the logical choice, but some people aren’t as naturally good-hearted as you.” He shrugged. “Growing up here, Karaliene’s probably seen more of the selfish side of human nature than you and I put together. I’m sure that on some level, she’ll appreciate the sacrifice you made.”
Caeden frowned. He wanted to believe Taeris, but it had been his fault that Karaliene was in danger in the first place. Besides, her disapproving glares from earlier that day were too fresh in his mind for Taeris’s words to give him any comfort. “And if she doesn’t throw me in prison?” he asked.
“Then nothing changes. I keep pressing Tol Athian to use the memory device, and hope that Karaliene’s contacts are helping our cause in the background.”
Caeden sighed. “So for now, I just… wait?”
“Yes. If you run then Karaliene will assume the worst, and this opportunity we’ve been given here will be for nothing.” Taeris shook his head. “And anyway—if things go badly with her, we do have a last resort.”
Caeden raised an eyebrow. “Which is?”
Taeris hesitated, then drew a small, smooth white stone from his pocket.
“I gave Nashrel the other Travel Stone, back at the Tol. I’m hoping he stored it with the other Vessels in Tol Athian.” He stared at the stone grimly. “It’s not charged yet; I’ve only been able to use the smallest trickle of Essence here in the palace. But it should be ready in a couple of days. It was my intention only to use it if the Blind got too close to Ilin Illan, when there was no longer any chance of convincing the Council to help. But if you get locked up, we can use it earlier. Break you out, if need be.”
Caeden looked at the white stone with trepidation. “Won’t Tol Athian know we’re there if we use it, though?”
“Oh yes,” said Taeris with an emphatic nod. “The Elders will detect the portal as soon as we open it inside the Tol—we’ll have only minutes to both locate and use the Vessel that can restore your memories. If that.”
“And if the other Travel Stone is somewhere else in the Tol?”
“Then it will be a short trip.” Taeris slipped the stone back into his pocket with a sigh. “But there’s no benefit to worrying about any of that right now—it may be an option we’ll never have to use. The best thing you can do at the moment is try to sleep, if you can. Whatever action Karaliene is going to take, it seems likely at this point that she isn’t going to take it until morning.”
Caeden inclined his head. “Thank you, for being so understanding about all of this. And… I truly am sorry for not telling you about Alaris sooner. I know I’ve caused a lot of trouble this evening.”
“I’m just glad you know which side you’re on now,” said Taeris with a tight smile. He gave Caeden a slight nod, and slipped out the door.
Caeden stared into space for a few minutes after he’d gone, lost in thought. Eventually he gave a tired shake of his head and decided to follow Taeris’s advice, lying down on the soft bed and closing his eyes, trying to ignore the knot of worry in his stomach.
Still, it was a long time before he could sleep.
* * *
Caeden yawned.
For a moment he lay in his comfortable bed, blissfully sleepy, aware that something had happened the previous night but not quite remembering what.
Then the memories returned and he sat up straight, any semblance of tiredness gone.
The world outside the open window was still dark, but Caeden could detect a hint of gray in the black night sky. It was morning, albeit still before dawn. That was a good sign; he’d half expected to be woken sooner by guards with instructions to haul him off to the dungeons. The princess had evidently decided against that course of action—or at least decided to hold off on it.
He rose and dressed, enough time passing that he was almost beginning to relax when a sharp knock at the door made him freeze.
“Open up,” came a stern voice from the other side.
Caeden glanced at the open window and for a brief, wild moment considered running. He wouldn’t get within a hundred feet of the wall before being stopped, though.
He walked over to the door and opened it, trying to look calm.
Outside he was surprised to see Karaliene herself, flanked by two burly and very displeased-looking guards. Her arms were crossed and a frown was plastered across her face; even so, the sight of her made Caeden’s heart skip a beat.
Then he took a deep breath, focusing. This was the princess—and she currently held his fate in her hands. He couldn’t afford to let himself be put off balance, no matter how lovely she looked.
“Your Highness,” he said formally, remembering to bow just in time. “How can I help you?”
“You can help me by having a conversation with me.” Karaliene strode forward, grabbing his arm and steering him back inside. “In private,” she added with a glare, stopping her two bodyguards in their tracks. She shut the door in their faces.
Caeden waited for the princess to take a seat, then sat opposite her, his heart pounding and a heavy feeling in his stomach. This was it. He tried to tell from Karaliene’s face what his punishment would be, but her expression was inscrutable.
“You sneaked out of the palace last night,” Karaliene observed, her tone flat. “You found a way to remove your Shackle.”
“I did, Your Highness,” acknowledged Caeden.
Karaliene leaned forward. “You broke the two conditions I had for allowing you to stay here. The only two conditions.”
Caeden swallowed. “Yes. I…” He sighed, not knowing where to begin, what to say. His shoulders slumped a little. “I apologize, Your Highness. I made a mistake.” He put every ounce of sincerity he had into the statement.
Karaliene watched him for a long moment, eyes narrowed. She looked… puzzled. As if she had been expecting an entirely different reaction.
“Were you trying to run?” she asked. “How did you get out of the Shackle?”
Caeden was silent for a few seconds, trying to think of how best to explain everything. “I wasn’t running. I planned to come back,” he said. “I was told that there was a man in the city who knew something about my past. I went to visit him, but it was a trap.” He cou
ldn’t keep the bitterness from his tone.
Karaliene studied him, looking skeptical. “And you couldn’t have just asked for my permission to see him?”
“It was… complicated,” said Caeden, the words stumbling off his tongue. He winced, knowing how evasive and vague the answer sounded.
Karaliene frowned a little, but still looked more perplexed than angry. “Then you should probably do your best to explain it,” she said quietly.
Caeden hesitated but eventually sighed, nodding. He could see from the princess’s expression that anything short of the whole truth would probably land him in the dungeons.
He took a deep breath, and told her everything he could about his meeting with Alaris.
His throat was hoarse by the time he was done. Karaliene watched him for a long few seconds, her expression unreadable. Then she rose, crossed to the basin, and poured a glass of water. She sat back down opposite Caeden, offering him the drink silently.
He gave her an appreciative nod and took a long swig, using the moment to brace himself for whatever was about to come.
“They were Blind, weren’t they?” said Karaliene, her voice soft.
Caeden blinked in surprise at her gentle tone, but nodded his confirmation. “I think so.”
“And you killed them all?” Karaliene watched him closely. “The Administrators found the bodies last night—it’s supposed to be a secret, but the entire palace has been talking of nothing else this morning.”
Caeden nodded again, a little awkwardly this time. “I had to,” he admitted. He didn’t mention that he had left Havran Das alive. If the man had information about who Caeden really was, then Caeden needed to find him before anyone else.
Karaliene bit her lip. “My uncle has ordered Dras Lothlar to examine their armor. Is that what made them so quick? When they caught me, it was like… I was stuck in glue. Every time I tried to hit them, one of them would catch my wrist before I could swing.” She shivered. “And they were strong. Stronger than they should have been, I’m sure. That wasn’t my imagination, was it?”
The Shadow of What Was Lost Page 54