Shardless

by Stephanie Fisher

  It is the unanimous decision of the Genesis Council to lay the full guilt of this tragedy on the aggression of House Myridan and its allies. The members of their household responsible for orchestrating this conflict will have their magic stripped and their bodies desecrated, and any lands they forcibly co-opted will be awarded to House Ghislain.

  Additionally, House Myridan’s treatment of their dead will need to be further scrutinized. While this Council has always recognized that shadow magic is fundamentally different from any other school of magic, we have been content to allow the Shadow Guild to set the rules and regulations for its practice. However, considering the implications of the spells and enchantments developed by the shadow mages of House Myridan, we will be reconvening at the end of the month to discuss the necessity for a more formal set of restrictions.”

  For what felt like the hundredth time that morning, Taly sneezed, her body convulsing as she breathed in another plume of dust. Although she had always dreamed of being allowed inside the restricted section of the Ebondrift library, she had never imagined just how dirty it would be.

  Dust had collected upon every available surface of the cramped, neglected corner on the top floor of the impossibly vast library, as if even the Gate Watchers wanted to forget that this part of the collection existed. Peering overhead, she could just make out the faint outline of several months’ worth of cobwebs strung between the rows of mahogany bookcases—intricately woven sculptures of silky thread set against the starry backdrop visible through the library’s domed glass ceiling. It was almost six bells, and two of Tempris’ three moons still swam through the inky sea of the pre-dawn sky.

  Suppressing a yawn, Taly turned back to the disorderly stacks of books spread out on the cluttered library desktop, sipping at what used to be a steaming cup of coffee. Why was she awake before six bells again? Oh, that’s right. Her subconscious mind hated her. Now, not only did her dreams insist on returning her to the night of the fire time and time again—an unending loop replaying the horrific tragedy that had stolen away every memory from the first six years of her life—but she could also add fighting off an army of dead men to her nightly rotation of things she wished she could forget about.

  In sleep, she couldn’t escape those creatures’ sorrowful, rage-filled eyes as they clawed at her. She could feel their bony fingers, smell the decay and rot that clung to their sallow skin. And perhaps most terrifying of all, her entire body had been awash in a golden haze. It had set her blood on fire as it coursed through her veins, a part of her that was still tethered but begging, pleading, to be set free.

  To her credit, she hadn’t woken up screaming in the wake of this new nighttime terror. After years of facing off against forgotten fears on the battlefield of her dreams, she had merely started awake with a gasp, her face wet with tears. And for the first time in a very long time, Skye had been there with her, already stirring from his own set of nightmares, a warm, comforting presence guiding her back from the dark recesses of her mind.

  He shushed her quiet sobs, whispered words of comfort into her skin, all the while telling her stories that grew increasingly more outrageous the longer she let him babble. Needless to say, she did not believe that he had snuck into the mortal realm the last time the Aion Gate opened, stumbled upon a lost island, befriended the natives—a species that looked strangely like bipedal bears—and then taught them the way of the shadow mage. Still, despite her refusal to accept his words at face value, Skye had sworn up and down that his shadow bears were now moving across the European continent, spreading the word of the great, all-seeing Em.

  He had also decided that he would like her to start calling him the great, all-seeing Em.

  So… yeah. That happened.

  For as long as she could remember, that had always been Skye’s strategy. When the nightmares struck, clouding her mind with terror, he’d just keep talking until he had her laughing so hard she couldn’t remember what she’d been afraid of in the first place.

  Once the shadows had been banished from her eyes, he’d quieted. They were both exhausted from the previous day, and she had quickly started to drift off again, lulled into a deep state of relaxation by the firm yet gentle stroke of his hand along her shoulder and down the length of her arm. But when he pressed his lips to the back of her neck, his warm breath fanning out across her skin, she had immediately jolted back awake for an entirely different reason.

  Even now, hours later, just the memory of having that adorably drowsy, half-dressed shadow mage practically nuzzling her neck had her shifting uncomfortably in the cushioned wooden chair, each creak shattering the early morning silence.

  Just friends. You’re just friends.

  At least that’s what Taly had told herself as she made a hasty if somewhat clumsy escape from their shared bedroom, eventually finding her way to the library. And that’s what she kept telling herself every time her mind began to wander despite the veritable trove of undiscovered knowledge surrounding her on all sides.

  If she found herself smiling as she remembered the way Skye’s arm had draped across her waist in sleep…

  You’re just friends.

  When her eyes glazed over as she recalled every detail of how he had held her in his arms the night before, or how she had thought for just one moment that they were about to…

  Just friends!

  Taly sighed, realizing that she had been staring at the page with unseeing eyes for who knows how long. After years of begging Ivain to be granted access to the Vetiri—the collection of texts housed at the Ebondrift library that contained the only remaining written accounts of the forbidden rites—here she was wasting the opportunity by fantasizing about Skye.

  “You in there, Tink?”

  Taly started, almost spilling her coffee. Looking to her left, she saw Skye in the seat next to her, a bemused smile gracing his lips. She had momentarily forgotten that he had come with her, refusing to be left behind when she had given him some mumbled excuse of not being able to sleep as she made for the door.

  “How long have you been there?” Taly asked, wincing at the slight squeak in her voice. He had shuffled off a little while ago, sleepily muttering something about going to get more tea.

  Skye chuckled as he turned back to his book. “Since you started staring at that page about five minutes ago. Must be riveting.”

  “Yeah… uh…” Taly checked the page, her eyes scanning the sloppily penned lines of Faera script. Most of these texts were just a disorganized compilation of notes and writings—she had yet to come upon a volume that was organized in any cohesive fashion. “Something about desecration. Isn’t that the ritual where they take a fey and make him mortal? Neither Ivain nor Sarina would ever say exactly.”

  Taly didn’t miss Skye’s slight wince at the mention of the other members of their small family. Although neither of them had dared to broach the subject, they were both worried about Ryme. If Ebondrift was being attacked, then Ryme was the next logical place to strike. And since the scrying relays had inexplicably gone offline before the attacks started, they had no way of knowing what was happening on the rest of the island.

  “Understandable,” Skye replied, throwing his book off to the side and picking up another one from the stack. “Most fey don’t like talking about things that remind them they’re not infallible. But yes, that’s the gist of it. Desecration strips away a fey’s ability to use aether.”

  Taly nodded, pushing a stray lock of hair out of her face. In her rush to escape, she had forgotten to braid it that morning, something she was coming to regret. The humidity from the ongoing rain just made the golden tendrils stick to her neck. “When did it become forbidden? I feel like I read about it all the time in connection to the Hunt.”

  Skye leaned back in his chair, sipping from a fresh cup of elfin tea. “About 150 years ago. Ivain doesn’t like to talk about the forbidden rites, but my mother told me once that desecration used to be employed as a method of merciful execution. The Genesis
Council would remove a prisoner’s immortality and then send him to live out the rest of his life among the mortals. But then during the Hunt... well, even the Genesis Lords of the Dawn Court found the Sanctorum’s practice of desecrating suspected time mages and their sympathizers before publicly disemboweling them rather distasteful.”

  Taly suppressed a shiver, fidgeting with the cuff of her boot. She hadn’t failed to notice the small group of Sanctifiers among the refugees the previous day. “You know, the more I learn about the Sanctorum, the more I hate it.”

  “You wouldn’t be the first person to feel that way.”

  Picking up another dusty tome, Taly said, “Tell me again why the Ensigns were moving so slowly yesterday. We’ve already made it through twice as many of these old books in a few hours than they got through in an entire day. It seems like they should’ve already been able to figure out what those creatures were.”

  With a yawn, Skye pushed himself out of his chair and stretched. Though she tried, Taly couldn’t stop her eyes from following the movement. He was dressed all in black this morning, a color that she had decided she found quite appealing on the lithe shadow mage. It was such a stark contrast to his pale skin, and he’d left the first few buttons of the plain, cotton shirt he wore undone, granting her a teasing glimpse of the flat planes of his chest. She watched him as he walked over to a large pile of books set against the wall, his long legs carrying him across the vast expanse of the library with a grace that made her heart flutter.

  Just friends! she screamed at herself mentally. But her heart didn’t seem to want to listen to reason as it continued to beat rapidly in her chest. Maybe there was something wrong with it. After all, mortals had been known to die from weak hearts.

  As he bent down to examine one of the stacks of discarded books, Skye’s words snapped her back to reality. “They were moving slowly because most scholars still like to record everything in Faera—a language that almost nobody speaks anymore. Unlike Ivain, the schools on the mainland don’t require complete fluency in Faera, and, as far as I know, House Ghislain is the only family left that still makes it a point to teach even the basic grammar structures to members of the primary bloodline—those set to inherit. Most fey only know the runes required for spellcasting and crystal inscription, so trying to translate full texts...”

  “Ah,” Taly replied, forcibly tearing her eyes away when Skye started walking back toward the table. “So, the Ensigns had to use a transcription enchantment. What a pain.”

  “Cé vas’anon, quivanana s’aris,” Skye replied in perfect Faera, trusting Taly to know the translation—indeed, it is.

  “Plus,” he sighed, “you’re also assuming that those creatures were created using a forbidden rite. All we know for sure is that they were created using shadow magic. It’s entirely possible someone came up with some new heinous enchantment and decided to unleash it upon Tempris for… I don’t know. A test? Just because they could? Some delusion about time mages rising up to overthrow the Dawn Court? Who knows.”

  “Time mages?” Taly’s head snapped up, and she was suddenly very aware of the bruises on her arm—the ones that flashed when she… “You think this could all be about time mages?”

  Skye paused, scanning one of the shelves. “Huh? No, not at all. I was just talking out of my ass. I have no idea why anyone would do this. The only thing I know for certain is that those creatures were clearly created, so that means that someone is behind it. As for his or her motive, though, I’m at a complete loss.”

  Taly hummed thoughtfully and did her best to ignore the tremor in her hands as she flipped through what looked like an old lab journal. “Well, at least one good thing came of this mess.”

  “Really? What’s that?” Skye asked absently. He wiped at the spine of a book, squinting as he tried to read the title beneath the grime.

  “Sarina being mad at me for tagging along with you is now the least of my worries.”

  Skye sniggered as he turned his head to give her a playful grimace. “No, I’d probably keep that one up at the top of my list of priorities. If we actually manage to survive long enough to get back to Ryme, she will kill you. And me. With fire, I’m guessing. But then again, I knew that when I agreed to bring you.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right,” Taly muttered with a slight shudder. She went quiet a moment, focusing on the text in front of her. “Hey, what about this?” she asked when she came upon a passage that read a little differently from the other pages of dry, arcane language.

  “What about what?”

  Taly couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down her spine. Skye was much closer than she expected, close enough that she could feel the heat from his body as he leaned over her. Resting a hand on her shoulder, his fingers began to absentmindedly brush the skin of her neck.

  Damn. He had been doing that all morning. Just when she would finally banish whatever new utterly inappropriate fantasy her subconscious had conjured, he would go and do something that would make the next daydream all the more vivid.

  You’re just friends. Her mantra; her prayer for sanity.

  Clearing her throat, Taly read aloud in Faera, “Though my sister expired at 15 minutes past the tenth bell on the fourth day of the month of Yule, I have successfully managed to trap and stabilize her anima within a shadow crystal. Her body continues to degrade, but the application of the aery and rho rites of preservation in 42-hour intervals has marginally slowed the decay. If I cannot solve the translation error while the body is still serviceable, then I may have to look into acquiring a new one.”

  “Sounds promising,” Skye said distractedly, reaching past her to turn the page. “Morbid, but promising. What’s the date on that?”

  “Uh…” Taly flipped the book to look at the spine. “Year 25,657 of our Lady Raine.”

  “That was during the Shade Rebellion.” Skye’s fingers, which had briefly ceased their assault on her neck while she was reading, started up again, this time with what felt like a far more deliberate pattern as they pushed aside the collar of her shirt to trace lazy circles on her shoulder. His nails grazed a particularly sensitive area, pushing the straps of both her camisole and bustier aside and…

  Taly stood abruptly, sidestepping Skye as she turned the corner and started scanning the shelves. She heard his footsteps following her. “That at least gives us a place to start looking,” she said in what she hoped was an even tone. “From what I can tell, the Ensigns have been working backward. Maybe we should start with when the Council first began regulating shadow magic and work our way forward.”

  Stretching, Taly’s fingers groped for a book that was just out of reach.

  “Not a bad idea,” Skye replied, once again far closer than she was expecting.

  Whirling around, Taly almost ran into Skye as he reached over her, effortlessly plucking the desired book from the shelf.

  “Um… thank you,” she mumbled as he placed the book in her hands.

  “Anytime.”

  Any other day, the cocky smirk on his face would’ve irritated her, made her suspect that he was up to something. Now, however, all she could think about was how his eyes, those impossibly green highborn eyes, crinkled when he smiled—a small, insignificant detail that somehow made her knees feel wobbly.

  Great. Weak knees and a weak heart. Maybe the events of the previous day before were starting to age her before her time. Or perhaps it was some lingering effect from the harpy venom. Aether depletion, maybe? Aiden had said that she probably had her own aether supply, and she had drunk the rest of her faeflower the night before when the burning in her lungs had been too much to bear.

  When Skye reached up to pull another book off the shelf, Taly ducked underneath his arm, a fierce blush staining her cheeks when she thought she heard a rumbling chuckle. It’s like he was trying to fluster her this morning! Usually, she would be able to deal with his teasing, but for some reason, her mind just couldn’t come up with the proper words to put him in his place. She wa
sn’t going to be able to get a single, useful thing done this morning if he didn’t back off.

  Maybe you don’t want him to back off, came a sly voice from a dark corner of her mind. Maybe you like it.

  Taly immediately pushed the voice into an imaginary well, relishing the sound of the receding scream and the splash that came after as she chucked in the bucket and then slammed the cover shut. That little bitch clearly didn’t know what she was talking about.

  Placing both hands on the desktop, she pretended to study the scattered piles of discarded books as she tried to once again rein in her errant thoughts.

  “You seem a bit edgy this morning, Tink.”

  “Geez!” Taly physically jumped back this time. “Stop doing that!”

  Skye just shrugged unabashedly as he sidled up beside her. Too close—closer than he would normally stand. “I can’t help but think that your mind might be somewhere else.”

  “Yeah, on the forbidden rites,” Taly retorted, grabbing a book off the desktop and opening it to a random page. Her toe tapped out a faltering rhythm on the marble floor.

  “If you say so.” That annoyingly suggestive smirk was back, and he stared at the book in front of her pointedly. “By the way, you read that one already.”

  Taly felt her cheeks warm as she slowly turned the book around to look at the spine. He was right. Slamming it shut, she growled as she swiped at the correct volume and began to march away. Maybe if she went to the other side of the library, she’d actually be able to concentrate.

  She yelped when Skye’s hand darted out and grabbed her by the wrist, sending the book in her hands tumbling to the floor. Before she quite knew what was happening, he had backed her up against one of the shelves beside the desk, caging her between his arms.