Shadow Cursed (The Shadow Accords Book 2)

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Shadow Cursed (The Shadow Accords Book 2) Page 2

by Holmberg, D. K.


  Her fingers brushed the ivy and touched the cool stone of the wall. From here, she could almost imagine what it was like on the other side. She remembered the danger and the excitement, the dark shadows and their cool caress. In five years, the excitement had probably dulled and the danger increased, but she just knew the shadows were there, waiting for her.

  Nyaesh was not her home, but it had felt something like it, if only for a while. With both of her parents dead—killed for reasons she still didn’t understand and by a man with abilities kept hidden from her—how could she ever find home again? Studying with the A’ras gave her a place, but that was not the same as finding her home.

  Trailing along the wall, she reached the flat part of the grounds. Most within Nyaesh believed the ruling family controlled these grounds and that the A’ras merely provided protection, but she had learned otherwise. The king ruled, but did so with the assistance of the A’ras, and willingly offered the students a place to study and to be safe. A home, were she to want it.

  As she stood, staring at the wall, the burning sense of magic raced through her blood.

  Carth focused on the draw of energy. The sense of it was familiar to her now, the hot bite of the A’ras magic as it sizzled in the air, drawn from stores within each person, and Carth was somehow able to detect it. Not all were, not even those fully trained. She’d kept her ability from nearly everyone, afraid of what they might say were they to learn that fact. Only her closest friend Alison knew, and that was accidental.

  This buildup was particularly potent.

  The power was released in a thunder as an explosion tossed her backward, sending her flying until she landed on her back, the breath knocked from her lungs.

  Carth scrambled to her feet, and before she knew what she was doing, she started sprinting toward the place where she’d detected the explosion, where she’d sensed magic being used. She probably shouldn’t risk this, and she’d probably be chastised for rushing toward a power that was beyond her ability, but with what she’d felt, what other choice did she have?

  The explosion had caused a breach in the wall. A narrow gap had formed in the stone, tearing ivy and sending debris scattered across the grounds. A flicker of movement appeared through the breach, and she nearly stumbled. Carth had seen a flicker like that before.

  Felyn?

  But he was dead, killed by the shadow magic when she’d failed to control it.

  Wasn’t he?

  The flicker appeared again, this time on the other side of the wall.

  It happened so fast that she wasn’t sure she could believe what she saw.

  She slipped the long knife from her sleeve and attempted to use it as a focus. Even though she had trained to pull on her magic, standing opposite a man with powers like the one who had killed her family, she found the focus required nearly impossible to achieve.

  The man flickered again. A dark cloak—either a deep brown or faded black—covered him, the hood pulled up over his head so that she saw only his eyes. Another flicker, and this time he stopped.

  A pair of knives appeared in his hands, faster than she could blink.

  “A trainee? The A’ras send a trainee?”

  Carth licked her lips, trying to work moisture into them. She didn’t know enough about the A’ras magic to counter a man like this. She knew technique, understood concepts, had mastered both sword and knife beyond what she had ever thought herself possible, but she hadn’t practiced enough, not nearly enough.

  He flickered again.

  This time, she felt it as he did. It came like a stirring in her stomach, a nervous fluttering, adding to the nerves already there. Carth dropped and rolled, holding her knife to the side. The blade would be useless against someone with this much power, but what choice did she have but to try?

  If she could hold out until others arrived—and she had to believe that others would come, that they would have heard the explosion or detected the breach in the wall as well—then the fully trained A’ras could take over and let Carth slink back to her room to try to understand what had happened.

  The man appeared, his knives thrust forward where her belly would have been.

  He spun to her, his eyes narrowed. Shadows within his hood prevented her from seeing his face, but she imagined him scowling, imagined him longing to harm her.

  With another stirring in her stomach, she rolled again, retching as she did.

  The man appeared where she had been, knives stabbed at the ground.

  He crouched there a moment and peered around until he found her. “The A’ras do not usually demonstrate such competence. None do, really, which is why they’re so easy to kill.”

  The cold tone to his words sent anger surging through her. Though she had at first assumed the A’ras had been responsible for killing her parents, it had been Felyn, and he had searched the city, hunting for her, hoping to do the same to her. Only because of Jhon’s coaching had she managed to escape.

  Carth leapt to her feet, holding the knife in front of her. As she did, she sent a coursing of power through it. Either anger or determination renewed her focus, and power surged in the blade. In time, she would learn to make her own, but this knife was the one she’d taken off a powerful A’ras. When she’d come to study with the A’ras, she’d kept it, claiming she’d been given it. No one had questioned her, but then, most of the ashai brought with them weapons they had been given.

  The man eyed the knife. He pushed his hood back, revealing closely cropped hair and a long scar running down the side of his face that distorted his spreading sneer.

  Carth took a step back. Ivy brushed against her and she could feel the power that still coursed through the wall, even with the damage. As much as she had longed to cross to the other side of the wall, she didn’t dare turn around.

  “Not only A’ras,” he said as he took a step toward her. “I thought we destroyed the others. Could it be that some remain?”

  He lunged, flickering as he did when he moved.

  Carth reacted on instinct.

  Rather than using the A’ras magic, which would be too slow, she reached for the shadows.

  It was something she couldn’t explain, no different than how she couldn’t explain how her body knew to breathe, or how her heart knew to keep pumping blood through her veins. She simply knew how to reach for the shadows, even if she had not since coming here.

  In the daylight, grabbing at the shadows would have been difficult even when she’d practiced every day. She should not be able to reach them.

  But where she stood, ivy created a soft dappling shadow along the wall, and the wall itself created shadows of its own.

  Darkness surrounded her as she formed a shadow cloak.

  Carth sunk into the depths of the wall, pulling the shadows around her.

  She held her breath. Would the man be able to reach her?

  “The shadows won’t conceal you forever. We have learned ways to disperse them.”

  He flickered toward her, his knife stabbing at the wall, cutting through the ivy.

  Carth started along the wall, trying to move away from him, wanting to put distance between them. Would he see or somehow sense her moving? If he was able to flicker as he moved, was it possible he could track her as well?

  She should never have run toward the breach in the wall; she should have stayed back and let others come and deal with the attack. What had she been thinking?

  The wall pressed forward, one of the decorative pillars bumping against her. Carth took a careful step forward, separating from the wall slightly, trying to hold on to the shadows as she did and maintain the cloaking, but she had been out of practice for too long. The cloak failed.

  The man spun toward her. With a flicker, he lunged toward her again.

  Carth dropped to the side and rolled.

  As she did, power surged, this time a power she recognized: A’ras magic.

  Three masters appeared, each with long curved swords unsheathed. Invar was among t
hem, but she recognized Lyanna and Erind as well, both incredibly skilled. They attacked almost as one.

  The other man glanced at her almost lazily, then flickered toward the A’ras masters.

  His knives moved in a flurry of speed she had witnessed only one other time, and that had been when Felyn had attacked the A’ras she’d believed to have killed her parents. Before coming here, Carth had thought the A’ras she saw on the streets to be incredibly skilled, but watching the three masters as they attacked, she realized she had never understood the extent of their abilities.

  And of the A’ras, Invar attacked with the most skill, using not only his sword, but constant manipulation of the A’ras magic that held the attacker away. The three masters coordinated their attack and managed to surround him.

  He flickered.

  This time, he appeared near the breach in the wall. He cast one more glance at Carth and winked. “I’ll find you again,” he said.

  He flickered again, disappearing.

  3

  Though light streamed through the open windows within the palace, Carth couldn’t get past the darkness that filled her. Not shadows—she would have welcomed the presence of the shadows, and would have willingly called to them—but the combined sense of unease and the feeling of helplessness she’d felt facing the attacker.

  Invar and Lyanna led her through the corridors. They hadn’t given her the option of returning to the cosak. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to crash into her bed, curl up under the covers, and recover from her exhaustion. After using the shadows again, she didn’t know whether it was mental or physical, but what did it really matter? The overwhelming fatigue was real enough either way.

  Neither of the masters spoke, and Carth didn’t say anything either, not wanting to risk angering them, but she needed answers. She twisted her hands together, debating whether to say anything, before finally speaking. “Who was he?” she asked as they neared one end of the hall.

  Lyanna continued onward, but Invar paused and looked back at her. “I believe he was—is—one of the Hjan.”

  As he watched her, Carth felt a flutter of nerves through her stomach, much like when she had seen the man flickering, but this time it was only her anxiety. At least, she hoped it was. She’d heard the name before. Jhon had called Felyn one of the Hjan. If she had any doubt about who the attacker had been, or where he had come from, Invar’s comment at least helped.

  “You’ve heard the term before,” Invar said.

  She swallowed, working her dry tongue in her mouth and licking her lips. “I’ve heard it once.”

  “It was foolish for you to run to the wall,” Lyanna said.

  “I was already there. Studying with Samis Gold,” she said in a hurry.

  Invar frowned. Did he know that she lied, and that she’d run to the spot from which the power had built? “How was it that you managed to subdue him long enough for us to arrive?” Lyanna asked.

  Invar had moved a couple paces ahead of them, and he tipped his head, indicating to Carth that he listened.

  “I didn’t subdue him.”

  “You didn’t die, either. That’s more than most are able to claim when faced with one of the Hjan,” Invar said.

  “I don’t understand.”

  Invar glanced back. “We don’t either.”

  He continued down the hall until they reached an ornately carved door of a deeply lacquered wood. Lyanna paused after opening it—Carth had noticed that she’d used something of her A’ras magic as she opened the door—and waited for Invar and Carth to follow.

  The inside of the room looked nothing like what Carth expected.

  The hall outside had open windows flooding it with natural light, at least in the daytime. This room had no windows, and an iron bowl in the center of the room held a brightly burning flame. A long table ran through the middle of the room. In addition to Erind, two other A’ras masters sat at the table, as if they had been waiting.

  Invar motioned to one of the chairs. “Sit,” he said.

  Carth swallowed. What had she done to get called in front of the masters? As far as she knew, her ability with the shadows was not known, so maybe she had upset them by using it against the attacker.

  She took a seat, perching herself on the edge of the hard wooden chair and clasping her hands on her lap beneath the table. She stared down at her legs, wishing again that she could return to her bed, that she could simply sleep. As soon as this was over, she would.

  “Erind claims they have returned to the city.” This came from Harrison, one of the oldest of the A’ras. With his gray hair and wrinkled eyes, he looked more grandfatherly than terrifying, but when he worked with the students, he was incredibly hard. She feared him nearly as much as she feared Invar.

  “So it seems,” Invar said.

  He took a deep breath and set his hands on the table. With a surge of power, an image formed between them, and Carth gasped. She’d never seen the A’ras use their magic in quite this way. She could see the details of the man attacking as Invar replayed the attack, where the three masters had surrounded him, forcing him to retreat. When the man flickered and disappeared, Invar pressed his hands together, and the image faded to nothing.

  “The last attack was—”

  “Five years ago,” Invar said, glancing down the table and looking at Carth.

  “We were unable to confirm the Hjan presence that time,” Malasi said. With her peppered brown hair and rich, almost chocolate eyes, she had much of the coloring of Carth’s mother.

  “Unable to confirm? What did Avera tell us?”

  “She claimed the man was Hjan, but we had no proof. No body, in fact,” Harrison said. “And now she has departed the city. Unfortunate that she should be gone when we might have need of her knowledge.”

  “It was not my decision to send her from the city,” Invar said.

  “We could not keep her in the city, Invar,” Lyanna said softly. It had the sound of a familiar argument. “Besides, she’s sent word that she will soon return.”

  “We knew what risk we faced—”

  Harrison cut him off by raising his hand. “Not now. This is not the time for such discussions. If they have attacked in the city—”

  “And if they do so again,” Erind said, “it means they likely side with the Reshian.”

  Invar frowned at him. “We don’t know that.”

  “We don’t know this was them. The Reshian could have done this.”

  “You mistake their ability—” Invar started.

  “One was here before,” Carth said. She pulled her gaze from her lap and forced herself to at least look at Lyanna, but the woman wouldn’t meet her eyes. Invar watched her, his deep frown making his face look more angry than anything. “I saw one of the Hjan before. Fought one. His name was Felyn. He killed my parents.”

  “Felyn?” Harrison said. He glanced at the others until Malasi nodded.

  “There were rumors of a Hjan named Felyn, but I had not heard that he came here.”

  “How did he get through the wall?” Carth asked.

  “We all knew the rumors five years ago. Many died,” Malasi went on, as if she hadn’t heard Carth.

  “Rumors only. There is no way one man could have killed as many as were claimed,” Harrison said. “Perhaps they were working with the Reshian even then.”

  Invar spread his hands again and the image of the attack reappeared. “This is what we faced. One less of us, and we might not have been enough.”

  “How did she manage to hold him off?” Harrison asked, looking at Carth.

  They all turned their attention to her, as if finally seeing her. Carth brought her hands up to the top of the table and squeezed them together. “I didn’t hold him off.”

  “You’re still alive,” Invar said again.

  “Luck. When he… flickered”—she didn’t know a different word for what he’d done—“it was like I could feel it. I was able to get out of the way before he hurt me.”

&
nbsp; She doubted she would have managed to do so for much longer. Had the masters not come, she would have been stabbed, or attacked by his strange magic in some other way, maybe left to bleed out onto the grasses of the grounds much like her mother had been left to bleed out onto the cobbles of the street.

  “Impressive luck,” Invar noted.

  She nodded, not wanting to look up. She wouldn’t have survived if not for the shadow magic, but she could hardly tell the masters that. Jhon had warned her not to use her magic here, told her that she would need to rely on the magic that she gained with the A’ras instead.

  “How did he get through the wall?” she asked again. “You said it was strong, and I can feel the power in it.”

  “You can feel it?” Malasi asked, leaning forward.

  Carth nodded carefully, looking at Invar, then back to Malasi. If any others were able to feel the A’ras magic, it would be the masters. “That’s how I knew about the attack. I felt it building and then… then the wall blew in.” She turned back to Invar. He seemed the most likely to answer her questions. “How was he able to do that? Who are the Hjan?”

  “They are collectors of power,” he answered.

  “You should not—” Harrison started, but Invar turned to him and shot him a hard look.

  “What kind of power?” she asked. Carth knew she shouldn’t speak so freely, especially around the masters, but how else would she learn what she had faced? All those years ago, Jhon hadn’t answered her, but then, she might not have been ready. She certainly wasn’t old enough to know if she was ready for the answer.

  “The kind the A’ras possess. Others possess different power. The Hjan would understand it all.”

  “That’s why they came to the palace? Why they attacked the wall?”

  “I don’t have the answer—”

  The door slammed open and another A’ras staggered in. She was a compact woman, and dried blood covered her face. She glanced at the assembled masters in the room before her gaze fell on Carth and her eyes widened.

 

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