The Shadow of What Was Lost

by James Islington

  “They won’t know what’s happening for another couple of hours.” Elocien ushered him out the door. “Which means we have exactly that amount of time to convince anyone capable of fighting that there’s still a chance. That there’s no need to panic.”

  Wirr grimaced. “We need to lie, you mean.”

  Elocien sighed.

  “Yes. We need to lie,” he agreed.

  Wirr just nodded, and they walked back toward the ballroom in heavy silence.

  Chapter 47

  It was the very early hours of the morning, the moon still high, when Davian caught his first glimpse of the palace.

  He exhaled as he took in the grand structure, clearly his destination despite being partially obscured by a combination of high walls and the expansive, immaculately kept gardens beyond. The enormous white columns and elegant arching entrances he could see through the gate were impressive, even after his time in Deilannis. The knot of worry that had been sitting at the base of his skull loosened a little. After all that had happened it was a relief, almost surreal, to finally be here.

  He rubbed his neck tiredly as he approached the gate, which was an ethereal silver in the moonlight. Aside from the guards there was no one on the street; as with the rest of the city he’d seen, everything was impressive, and yet it felt… empty. Deserted. His footsteps crunched in the postmidnight hush, and all four men at the gate were watching him with narrowed eyes before he got within fifty feet.

  “No entry to the palace,” said one of them, stepping forward. His tone brooked no argument.

  Davian held up his hands to show he meant no harm. “I need to see Aelric or Dezia Shainwiere,” he said, his tone polite. “It’s urgent.”

  The guard shook his head. “Sorry, lad, but no visitors. And if the Shainwieres are even awake, they’ll be helping prepare the city defenses—I can’t disturb them.”

  “I have information about the invasion.”

  The guard raised an eyebrow, looking skeptical. “Do you now. That’s convenient. Perhaps you can tell me, and I’ll relay it to those who need to know.”

  “I need to give it to them directly.” Davian rubbed his forehead. “Could you please just tell them that Davian is here to see them?”

  The guard scowled. “Fates, lad, what part of ‘no entry’ don’t you understand? Even if they knew you, I couldn’t let you through at this time of night.”

  Davian sighed. He hadn’t wanted to do this, but the man was clearly not going to be swayed.

  He concentrated, reaching out with kan.

  He almost lost his grip on the connection, so surprised was he by how easy it was to slip inside the guard’s mind. Once he was through, though, it wasn’t like Malshash’s thoughts—cold, ordered, and distinct. Everything here was… a mess. Emotions tangled with sensations tangled with memories, each coloring the others until none were entirely recognizable.

  Davian focused on the present, trying to block out everything else as Malshash had taught him. There was nervousness about what was coming, a sense of dread. And suspiciousness of Davian, certainly no inclination to let him through the gate.

  He looked deeper, trying to find what would change the man’s mind. The guard knew who Aelric and Dezia were, though only from afar; they registered as two faces, little more.

  He turned his thoughts to Wirr—to Prince Torin. That was a different story. A powerful figure, an intimidating one in this man’s life. One word from the prince and his life could be changed, for better or for worse.

  Davian barely stopped himself from shaking his head in disbelief at the thought.

  He withdrew the sliver of kan, sighing. “If you’re comfortable with the consequences once Torin discovers his friend has been turned away…” He trailed off, turning as if to leave.

  “Wait. What?” The guard’s voice had taken on a nervous note. “The prince? You never mentioned—”

  “I shouldn’t have had to.” Davian shook his head, doing his best to look irritated. “I asked for the Shainwieres because I knew Tor would be busy. But I’m an old friend of his. From Calandra,” he added, remembering where Wirr was supposed to have been for the past few years. He stepped forward, looking the man in the eye. “Davian. And it’s urgent.”

  The guard hesitated, and Davian pressed home his point. “Just tell him I’m here. If he doesn’t know who I am, or doesn’t want to let me in, you can lock me up.” He gave his most confident smile. “But he’ll want to see me.”

  The man hesitated a moment longer, then nodded briefly and disappeared through the gate.

  A few minutes later someone else appeared from within the grounds, a harried look on his face. He was older, finely dressed.

  “Davian?”

  Davian nodded.

  “My name is Laiman Kardai. Come with me. Quickly, please.” He turned to one of the guards. “Trevin. You trust me?”

  “Of course, Master Kardai,” said the man.

  “Tell anyone who asks that he left,” Laiman said, jerking his head toward Davian. “Walked off, didn’t say where he was going.”

  Trevin bit his lip, then nodded. “We can do that.” The other two men with him nodded their silent agreement.

  Davian frowned but hurried after the older man, through the gates and magnificent grounds and into the main building. Once inside, Laiman took a couple of sharp turns, then ushered Davian into an unoccupied room.

  He shut the door and leaned against it, exhaling in what appeared to be relief.

  “What’s going on?” asked Davian in confusion.

  “You’ve… caused a bit of a commotion, I’m afraid,” said Laiman, gesturing for Davian to have a seat. “Not through any fault of your own. Prince Torin will be along to see you shortly, I’m sure.”

  “What happened?”

  Laiman sighed. “There was a feast earlier tonight, and several lords stayed around afterward to discuss the defense of the city. The prince was part of that meeting, along with his father, uncle, and a couple of Administrators. We were just finishing up when word came that one of Torin’s friends from Calandra was at the gate.” He shook his head, a weary motion. “We both know where Torin’s actually been these last few years, but until now few others did.”

  Davian hesitated, for a moment unsure how much he could admit to this stranger. Then he frowned, picking up on the last part of Laiman’s statement. “Until now?”

  “King Andras… lost control when he heard.” Laiman looked dazed at the memory. “I don’t know how else to describe it. He stood up and, in front of everybody, revealed where Torin has been. The fact he’s Gifted. Claimed that this was Torin’s way of letting his ‘bleeder’ friends into the palace so that they could kill him, overthrow him.” He shrugged. “The duke did his best to calm him, while I slipped away. I don’t think anyone else saw us coming inside, so if Trevin keeps his word—which he will—you should be safe in here for a while.”

  Davian gave him a stunned nod. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it. I’ve heard Torin’s entire story, and I know who you are. What you are. We can use all the help we can get against what’s coming.” Laiman looked grim. “I should get back before I’m missed, though… or shut out altogether,” he added, sounding bitter. “Stay here. I’ll make sure Torin knows where you are.”

  He slipped outside and shut the door behind him, leaving Davian alone and shaken.

  Perhaps thirty minutes passed before the door opened again. Davian rose in anticipation, his smile broad as he took in the first of the two figures in the doorway. Wirr was almost unrecognizable with his fine clothing and neatly trimmed hair.

  Davian’s attention shifted to the girl next to him; they locked eyes, and for several moments neither of them moved. She was a Shadow, but Davian recognized her immediately… and yet it couldn’t be.

  Then she was rushing into the room, and they were embracing.

  “Asha?” Davian could barely choke out the name, overcome with a flood of emotion. He held her aw
ay from him for a moment, peering into her black-scarred face, scarcely daring to believe it. He swallowed hard as unexpected tears threatened to form in his eyes. Even as a Shadow, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. “How…?”

  Asha grinned in delight at the look on his face. “It’s a long story, Dav.”

  Wirr gave a cough as he entered the room. “Good to see you, too, Dav. Glad you’re not dead and everything.”

  Davian laughed dazedly, elatedly, grabbing Wirr and pulling him into the embrace. “Fates, Wirr, you have no idea how good it is to see you again. After Deilannis…” He shook his head, smile finally slipping a little. “Laiman said I’ve caused trouble for you. I’m sorry.”

  “Not your fault.” Wirr stared at the floor, his brow furrowed as he said the words. “My uncle is very sick; I’m sure it would have come out eventually.” He rubbed his face. “Word’s already spreading, though, and I have no idea what the consequences are going to be. I can’t stay around here for long.”

  “Neither can I, Dav.” Asha looked torn as she said the words. “You have no idea how much I want to sit down with you, tell you everything that’s been happening… but Wirr caught me just as I was leaving. There are things I need to do before the Blind get here. Important things. I’ve only got a few minutes.” She gave him a rueful smile.

  “She never believed you were gone.” A guilty expression spread across Wirr’s face. “I shouldn’t have, either… I never would have left you in Deilannis, but Taeris lost his connection with your Shackle, and…”

  “It’s all right, Wirr,” Davian reassured him. “There was nothing you could have done. Believe me.” His gaze returned to Asha, head spinning. “So if you’re alive… is everyone else…?”

  Asha’s face twisted. “No,” she said gently. “Just me.”

  Davian nodded; there was the momentary pain of having that flicker of hope crushed so quickly, but the joy of seeing Asha again was stronger by far. “It’s still a miracle,” he said, unable to wipe the smile from his face.

  Wirr gripped him by the shoulder, as if testing to see if he was truly there. “So what happened? Where have you been?” He hesitated. “Is Nihim with you?”

  “No.” It was Davian’s turn to grimace. “He died in Deilannis. As to the rest, it’s difficult to explain quickly. If you really have to go…”

  Wirr nodded, looking frustrated. “I really do.”

  Davian sighed; he understood the need, but this reunion with his friends was going to be all too brief. “Any ideas as to what I should be doing next, then? This was as far ahead as I’d thought,” he admitted. “I have control of some of my Augur powers now. There must be some way I can help.”

  Wirr and Asha exchanged glances. “You can Read people?” asked Asha.

  “Yes. Why?” Davian smiled slightly at the odd expression on his friends’ faces. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to Read either of you.”

  Wirr shook his head, remaining serious. “It’s not that, Dav.” He hesitated. “It’s Ilseth Tenvar.”

  Davian felt his expression twist in sudden anger at the name. “Where is he?”

  “Locked up in Tol Athian,” supplied Asha. “But he’s not talking.”

  “Asha and I were discussing this a few days ago,” continued Wirr. “That box for Caeden, the attacks to find me… we know it’s all connected to this invasion.”

  “And if I Read Tenvar, there’s a chance we might find out something useful about the Blind,” finished Davian, unable to keep the reluctance from his tone. He rubbed his forehead, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He badly wanted Ilseth to answer for what he’d done, but suddenly the thought of facing him made Davian queasy. “Caeden didn’t get his memory back, then, I take it?”

  “The Council refused to help him,” said Wirr. “I don’t know the details, but I think Taeris is still trying to convince them.”

  Davian was silent for a moment as he processed the information. “And Tenvar’s said nothing?”

  “So far as we’ve been told,” said Asha, a little bitterly.

  Wirr grimaced, nodding. “Things have been… strained between the palace and the Tol, as you can probably imagine if you’ve heard anything about how my uncle’s been acting. The Council has all but cut off communications now; we asked to see Tenvar the other day and they refused us entry. As is their right under the Treaty, unfortunately.”

  Davian gave a thoughtful nod. “So you can’t get me in,” he said. “If I want to see Tenvar, I’ll probably have to tell them that I’m an Augur.” He rolled back his sleeve, revealing the smooth skin where his Mark had once been. “They’re going to take some convincing if I don’t.”

  Wirr and Asha both stared in silence for a few seconds.

  “Fates,” murmured Wirr. “How…” Then he shook his head, looking frustrated. “No time; you’ll just have to tell us everything when all this is over. But you’re right—you are going to have to tell them you’re an Augur. That’s one of the reasons we haven’t sent any of ours yet.”

  Davian gave him a puzzled look. “Our what?”

  “Augurs.” Asha grinned at Davian’s expression, which he felt turn from bemusement to outright disbelief as he stared at her. “A long story. Only one of them can really Read people, though, and he’s too valuable at the palace at the moment. If we expose him to Athian, it would be too risky for him to come back and assume no one from here will find out.”

  Davian was silent for a long few moments as he digested what Asha had said. “Tenvar managed to lie to me. He knows how to shield himself. I’m not sure there’s any use sending anyone to Read him, to be honest,” he said eventually, a little dazed.

  “We know, Dav. The chances of getting anything useful are slim—we just thought it might be worth trying.” Asha laid a reassuring hand on his arm. “If you don’t think it is, though, I’m sure there are other ways you can help.” At her side Wirr nodded his agreement.

  Davian thought for several more seconds, then shook his head. “No,” he said quietly. “I’ll do it. If there’s even a slight possibility we can get answers from him, then we should try.”

  Wirr quickly related how to get to the Tol and then glanced at the door, clearly anxious to leave. “I hate to go so soon, Dav, but I need to get away from here before an Administrator finds me. The El-cursed Fourth Tenet is an awfully dangerous thing right now,” he said, looking nervous. “I’m going to head to Fedris Idri until my father sends word that everything is under control; it’s unlikely Administration will try anything while I’m surrounded by my uncle’s soldiers. Find me there if you discover anything important.” He embraced Davian. “Fates, it’s good to have you back. When this is all over, we’ll celebrate your return from the dead. Properly.”

  “I’d expect nothing less.” Davian turned to Asha, and they both hesitated for a second. Then she wrapped him in a long, tight hug, her cheek against his.

  “Be careful,” she said softly. “We have some things to talk about when this is all over.”

  Davian gave her a gentle squeeze. “I know. You, too, Asha.”

  Wirr was standing impatiently by the door. “You can find your own way out?”

  Davian nodded. “As long as the guards at the gate won’t stop me.”

  “They won’t,” Wirr promised. “Give me five minutes to speak to them, then head out.”

  With that he left. Asha paused in the doorway, giving him one last, brilliant smile over her shoulder before she followed suit.

  Davian sat, still trying to comprehend everything that had just taken place. Asha was alive. It didn’t seem possible, was too good to be true. After all he’d endured over the past few months, this was a ray of hope, of happiness, he’d not dared to think was possible.

  Suddenly the door was opening again, and Davian leaped up warily.

  “Davian?” A scarred face peered into the room.

  “Taeris!” Davian relaxed again, smiling. He gave a soft laugh of relief. “Is everyone I kno
w at the palace today? How did you know I was here?”

  “A friend mentioned it.” Taeris’s expression was wry. “Word tends to get around when the man we’re depending on to defend us goes completely mad.”

  “Ah. Yes.” Davian crossed the room and embraced the older man. “It’s good to see you again.”

  “You, too, lad. Fates, you, too.” Taeris smiled, and Davian suddenly noticed a long, pink scar across his cheek, overlaid on some of the others. It looked fresher, newly healed.

  “Where’s Caeden?” Davian’s heart suddenly dropped. “Is he all right?”

  “He’s fine,” Taeris rushed to assure him.

  “And his memories?”

  Taeris took a deep breath. “Nothing so far—but given how close the Blind are getting, I’m going to see if we can do something about that in a few hours.” He outlined his plan to break into Tol Athian using the Travel Stones.

  Davian gave a thoughtful nod once he was finished. “I’m about to go there myself,” he said. “If there’s any way I can help keep them off your backs, I will.”

  “I appreciate that, lad.” Taeris smiled. “So. Where have you been?”

  Davian opened his mouth to reply, then hesitated. He didn’t believe what Driscin had told him, and yet… the man from Tol Shen hadn’t lied.

  “I’ll explain in a moment, but first I need to know something. When was the first time you saw me?”

  Taeris blinked, surprised by the question. “The day you were attacked, of course,” he said, looking puzzled. “Why do you ask?”

  Davian stiffened. It was faint, but it was there—pain in his temples.

  Taeris was lying, and trying to mask it.

  “I see.” He was silent for a moment, trying to contain his suddenly roiling emotions. “Tell me… did you plan it? When I got this.” He raised his head, pointing to his scar. “Did you get those men to rough me up so that I would get scared, be forced to find my powers? Was it all a plan that went horribly wrong? Is that why you saved me?”

  Taeris paled. “Of course not,” he said hurriedly. “Who has been telling you this? I’d never…” He trailed off as he saw Davian’s expression.