The Shadow Of What Was Lost (Book 1)

by James Islington

  Caeden moved without thinking. He drew back his hand, letting Essence flow through him and into his fist. Then he drove it down into the sha’teth’s disfigured face.

  There was a blinding light, and a final scream from the creature.

  When Caeden’s vision cleared, all that remained was a pile of ash.

  He knelt there, silent and trembling, for what seemed like ages. Finally he felt a hand clasp him on the shoulder. He looked up to see Taeris watching him, concerned.

  “Are you hurt?” the older man asked.

  Caeden forced himself to stand, still trying to comprehend what had happened. He had killed the creature. Had it been the right thing to do? Would it have told the truth about who he was – and if it had, would he have liked what it said?

  He stared at the pile of ashes morosely. There could be no knowing now.

  “I’ll survive,” he said softly.

  Wirr came to stand next to him, looking at the ashes on the road in fascination. A gentle wind sprang up, scattering some of them to the grass on the roadside. “How did you do that, Caeden?” he asked. “The shields you gave us. I’ve never seen anything like it. It wasn’t Essence.”

  Caeden shook his head. Already the memory of how to use that power was hazy again, though he knew it would not fade entirely. There was something about Essence – something about wielding it – that seemed to stimulate his memories, bringing them to the fore. He still wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not, but it was valuable knowledge nonetheless.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted to Wirr. “I just reacted instinctively, and they appeared.”

  “Just in time,” noted Taeris. He clapped Caeden on the back. “You saved our lives, lad.”

  Caeden forced a smile. “Perhaps it can go some way to paying you back for bringing the sha’teth down on you in the first place,” he said wryly.

  “That’s hardly your fault.”

  Caeden started. It was Aelric who had spoken, still standing a little distance away but looking at him with an expression of vague approval. “We owe you a debt, Caeden.”

  Not knowing what to say, Caeden gave Aelric an appreciative nod. The five of them stared at the remains of the sha’teth for a moment longer, then Taeris said, “We should get moving before those other travellers come back and start asking questions.”

  Caeden glanced up. The road ahead was empty aside from scattered belongings and the four bodies a little further along; everyone else had fled, running as hard as they could until they had lost sight of the road altogether. Still, many of them had left what were probably their only possessions behind. It would not be long before some of them began to venture back.

  “What about the bodies?” asked Wirr. “We can’t just leave them.”

  Taeris grimaced. “We have no choice. Those who come back will see they get a proper burial, I’m sure.”

  They began walking again, carefully navigating around the blood-soaked section of road where the corpses lay. After a few minutes, Taeris matched his stride to Caeden’s.

  “So. It seems you’re an Augur, too,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Wirr was right. That wasn’t Essence you used to save us.”

  Caeden didn’t respond for a few seconds. He’d guessed as much, but at the moment it seemed like just one more thing to worry about. “It was instinct,” he eventually reiterated, not taking his eyes from the road ahead. “I don’t know how I did it.”

  Taeris grunted, looking dissatisfied but seeing he was not going to get any further comment on the matter. “What did the sha’teth say to you, just before the end?”

  Caeden shrugged. “It was spouting nonsense. Nothing that made sense.”

  Taeris raised an eyebrow. “Such as?” He scratched his beard. “It might be important.”

  Caeden hesitated. He had no intention of telling Taeris what the sha’teth was going to reveal. “It said it had killed him. When I asked who it meant, it just acted disappointed that I didn’t know.” It was at least some of the truth, hopefully enough to satisfy Taeris' curiosity.

  Taeris thought for a moment. “Another mystery,” he sighed eventually. He gave Caeden a mock stern look. “You really need to get your memories back, lad.”

  “No argument here,” Caeden replied, doing his best to sound cheerful.

  They kept walking. In the distance, Fedris Idri was now clearly visible, and further along the road he could see more people heading towards them. A steady stream, in fact.

  They were almost to Ilin Illan.

  - Chapter 37 -

  Asha watched as Erran shifted uncomfortably in front of her, clearly hesitant to proceed.

  The young man took a deep breath, exchanging worried glances with Elocien, Kol and Fessi, who had gathered for the occasion and were looking on from the corner of the room. Then he turned back to Asha.

  "Are you sure you want to do this?"

  “I’m sure,” Asha affirmed, though her stomach twisted as she said the words. In truth, the certainty she'd felt the previous day had faded.

  "Ashalia," interjected the duke, his tone gentle. "Do you really think Elder Tenvar lied to you?" He hesitated. "It's not that I don't believe you, but I wouldn't want to see you go through this for no reason."

  Asha turned to him. "I need to know," she said simply.

  Elocien inclined his head, and Kol and Fessi both gave her encouraging smiles, though the concern in their eyes was obvious. Erran hadn't minced words when he'd explained the dangers of trying to restore her memory.

  In front of her, Erran sighed. "Okay." He paced back and forth for a couple of seconds, rubbing his hands together in a nervous motion. “Okay. Ready?”

  Asha nodded.

  Erran stopped in front of her, leaned forward, and pressed his fingertips against her temple. There was nothing for a few moments and then the slightest pressure at the back of her skull, like the beginnings of a headache.

  The feeling began to build, gradually at first, but soon enough Asha’s head was throbbing with it.

  “Erran,” she said uncertainly. “I’m not sure if - ”

  The pressure burst.

  A gentle warmth flooded through her head. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation, but it made her gasp nonetheless. Her thoughts were suddenly scattered, jumbled.

  Erran stepped back, lowering his hand. His eyes were full of horror.

  “Fates. I’m so sorry.”

  And then the memory came crashing back into her.

  ***

  There was pain behind Asha's eyes, but she forced them open anyway.

  She stared around, trying to get her bearings. What had happened? Jagged-edged images flashed through her mind and she sat up sharply, heart pounding, panic threatening to take over.

  Someone had attacked the school. Everyone was dead.

  "Ashalia."

  She turned to see a blond-haired Administrator watching her with a worried expression. He looked... familiar. She stared at his face for a few seconds in confusion.

  "Do you recognise me?" asked the man, his tone gentle.

  "Yes," said Asha slowly. Her memories began to order themselves, and the fear subsided. Faded into grief. "Duke Andras. Elocien."

  "Good." Elocien looked relieved. He leaned forward, taking her hand and squeezing it. "We were worried."

  "We?" Asha looked around with some effort, but only she and the duke were in the room. It was her sleeping quarters, she realised after a few seconds.

  "All of us. It's almost dawn; the others went to bed a few hours ago. You've been asleep for nearly a day."

  Asha struggled up into a sitting position. "That long?"

  Elocien nodded. Then his expression sobered. "Erran told us what happened. What you saw, before Tenvar made you a Shadow." He shook his head. "That note from Torin... I never knew about it. I suspect the Council didn't, either."

  Asha smiled as she remembered. Davian and I are leaving. "He's alive," she murmured, still barely daring to believe it. Then her smile f
aded, and a wave of fury washed through her as her thoughts cleared and she was able to analyse the new memories, come to grips with them. "What have you done about Elder Tenvar?"

  Elocien grimaced. "We're watching him."

  "We need to lock him up." She thought of everyone who had died at the school, of the bloodied corpses of her friends, and her expression hardened. "At the least."

  "I understand, but... it's not that simple," Elocien cautioned her. "Tenvar is Gifted. There are rules that prevent us from simply marching into the Tol and arresting him. Laws that I cannot break without undeniable, air-tight proof." He gave Asha an apologetic look. "As long as he is inside the Tol, he's under the Council's jurisdiction, and the Gifted are the only ones who can bring him to trial and punish him. It's part of the Treaty."

  Asha stared at him in disbelief. "But he made me a Shadow against my will. He lied about Davian. I remember. And Erran saw too - "

  "Which no-one can know," Elocien pointed out gently. "As for you remembering - how are you going to explain that to the Council? You can point the finger all you like, but unless they really believe you've got your memory back, all it will do is warn Tenvar that we know what he did." He sighed. "Watching him... it's the best we can do, for now. I promise you, as soon as we get the opportunity to do more, we will."

  Asha shook her head, still trying to clear it. She should have realised that. "You seem very calm about all of this."

  "I've had the entire day to be angry," said Elocien. "And believe me, I was." He stood, putting his hand on her shoulder in a reassuring gesture. "If you're feeling okay, I should get the others. They will want to know you're awake."

  Asha nodded, lying back down and staring at the roof as Elocien left, trying to sort through her churning emotions. Grief and horror at what had happened. Fury at Tenvar. Fear, knowing what he was capable of.

  She took a few deep, steadying breaths as she mulled over what Elocien had said about the Gifted, about Tenvar's immunity so long as he was inside the Tol. A plan began to form, just an idea at first, but fully fledged by the time Elocien returned with the Augurs.

  After receiving delighted hugs from the others - particularly from Erran, whose relief was so evident it made her laugh - she turned to Elocien.

  "I think I have a way to solve our problem with Tenvar. To have him locked up," she announced.

  Elocien frowned. "We can't risk an incident between the palace and Tol Athian, not at the moment. Tensions are already high and rising as it is, with my brother's recent outbursts against the Gifted," he warned her.

  "It wouldn't involve you or anyone else here," Asha quickly assured him. "If it fails, the worst that happens is that Tenvar knows I've remembered." She outlined her idea, her four companions listening in attentive silence. There was a pause once she'd finished as everyone considered what she'd proposed.

  "It's still a risk for you, though," noted Erran eventually, his tone uneasy. "There's no telling what Tenvar's reaction will be."

  "I can handle it," Asha told Erran, locking eyes with him. After a moment, Erran nodded his acceptance, and the other Augurs soon followed suit. They were concerned for her, but none of them was going to try and convince her out of it. For that, she was grateful.

  Elocien hesitated for a second longer, then inclined his head too.

  "So you'll need a meeting with Councillor Eilinar. And access to the storeroom in the Old Section," he observed.

  "That should do it."

  Elocien nodded, more to himself than to Asha.

  "I'll see what I can do," he said quietly.

  ***

  Asha threw open the door to Ilseth’s study as hard as she could, the resultant crash echoing down the hallway.

  Ilseth jumped up, eyes wide for a moment. Then, seeing who it was, he sank back into his chair again, trying his best to look unconcerned.

  “How can I help you, Ashalia?” he asked with cool politeness. “You really should be more gentle with the door.”

  Asha paused for a long moment. Then she turned and closed the door carefully, taking a key from her pocket and with a quick twist, locking it.

  Ilseth frowned. “Where did you get that?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Asha slipped the key back into her pocket.

  “I suppose it doesn’t,” said Ilseth, looking more amused than concerned. “What would you like to say to me?”

  Asha stared at him. “I want you to know that I remember.”

  “Remember what?”

  “Everything.” Asha swallowed a lump in her throat. “I know Davian was missing, not dead. I know you made me a Shadow against my will. I know you had something to do with what happened in Caladel.” She clenched her fists, trying to contain her anger. “And now you’re going to tell me exactly what.”

  Ilseth just smiled a pleasant, nonchalant smile, though his eyes betrayed a sliver of shock. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He sighed. “Perhaps you’re confused. I know Shadows have very vivid dreams about their past, sometimes -”

  “Don’t patronise 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 paralyses? 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; realising 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 backwards, 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 were about to protest his innocence, then, seeing the expression on Nashrel’s face, 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 seemed to be 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 as 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.”