Shardless

by Stephanie Fisher

  Taly was the first to break the silence. “Why would they take the time crystals? Of all the ways to shut down a gate, why did they remove the time crystals?”

  She felt Skye shrug behind her. “I’m not sure. A part of me thinks that whoever is behind this might be trying to recreate the enchanted armor, but that’s not possible.”

  “Why not?”

  “No time mages,” Skye replied simply. “No Time Shard either. Even if the crystals didn’t go dark as soon as the preservation enchantment was removed, you’d still need a time mage to inscribe the crystal with the proper spell.”

  That’s right. Taly had forgotten about that small detail. The Gate Watchers had enchanted each gate before the time crystals went dark, completely losing their ability to channel and convert aether. Without the Time Shard, they were little more than useless. But what had Aiden said? Taly’s very existence was evidence that the Time Shard had been revived. Which meant that maybe re-creating that armor wasn’t so impossible. Not anymore at least.

  And then there was her. What would their unknown attacker do if he (or she or they) found out that there might be a living time mage? A human one, but still… Taly shuddered at the idea.

  “It’s okay, Tink,” Skye said, most likely having heard the sharp spike in her heart rate. His arms tightened around her. “We’ll figure something out. All we’ve got to do is stick together, you and me, and we’ll be fine.”

  “What are you not saying?” Taly whispered, noting the slight edge in his voice.

  “Am I that obvious?”

  Taly shook her head, smiling softly. “Only to me.”

  Skye sighed. “I’m worried about Ryme and how we’re going to get all of these people there. Kane’s concerns are valid. Even if we fortify the caravans, we will lose people if we get attacked out in the open. I’d feel a lot better if I knew we had backup coming.”

  A sharp stab of guilt lanced Taly’s chest. She stepped away, moving back over to the table to start gathering up the scattered books, notes, and journals. She needed to keep her hands busy.

  Reya’s dull, lifeless words filtered back through her mind: What do they want? Or maybe more precisely, who did they want? She didn’t have any evidence, but Taly was starting to suspect she knew the answer to that question. And it made her stomach churn.

  “There’s no one you can send?” Taly asked shakily, glancing at him over her shoulder. A gnawing sense of guilt took root deep inside her, and she took a deep breath, forcefully suppressing the urge to gasp for air. How could she fix this? If this really was her fault, if they were after her, how could she fix this? “What about… woah.” A prickling sting rippled up and down her arm, and then the world tilted sideways. She stumbled, grabbing at the table for balance.

  A spectral golden hand gripped her arm moments before she felt Skye come up behind her.

  Damn it! She’d dropped her guard—allowed her attention to slip. She prodded at the mental wall, frantically searching. The patches she’d put in place were still holding but… There! A tiny, almost insignificant trickle of power seeping out from between the stones. Shoving every bit of willpower she had at the leak, the glimmering, golden haze creeping in around the edges of her vision slowly abated.

  “Taly?” Skye’s voice was soft yet urgent as the world around her came back into focus. “C’mon, Tink, talk to me.”

  Taly blinked up at him, confused. How had he gotten up there? For that matter, how had she come to be sprawled on the floor with Skye crouching over her?

  “I’m fine. What happened?” She tried to sit up, but her head swam as soon as she shifted.

  “Easy,” Skye said, gently lifting her and leaning her body against his. “You were talking, and then you just went down. I caught you before you could hit your head, but I still think we should take you to see the healer.”

  “No!” Taly exclaimed. She couldn’t have that healer looking at her arm again. Skye’s brow furrowed, and he opened his mouth to protest. Before he could say anything to the contrary, she added, “I think this is just a case of too much coffee and not enough food. Sleep would probably also help.”

  “I guess we have had a pretty rough go of it lately,” Skye conceded, his eyes tight with worry. “Still, I’d feel better if you saw the healer. Especially since you were just getting back on your feet again after the harpy.”

  Taly shook her head. “No, Skye. Let the healer tend to people that actually need healing. I’m fine.”

  “Hey?” a new voice inquired. “What happened?”

  Taly groaned, but Skye cut her off before she could protest. “Taly needs the healer.”

  “No, I don’t,” she reiterated.

  “What?” Rounding the table, there was genuine concern in Kato’s expression as he crouched down beside them. “Is she sick?”

  “No.” Taly shook off Skye’s hold and shot to her feet, wobbling slightly. “I don’t need a healer. I need a snack. That’s all.”

  Skye stood. “Taly, please—”

  “I said no.” Taly slapped his hand away when he reached for her, wincing when she saw a flash of hurt in his eyes. “You know that medicine Aiden has me on has my metabolism all messed up. I just need to eat something.”

  Turning to Skye, Kato asked, “Weren’t you supposed to be meeting with Kane right now? I can take her to the commissary.”

  “I don’t need babysitting,” Taly muttered. Nor did she want to get stuck spending any time alone with Kato—not with how unstable those spells on her arm were becoming.

  “Maybe you don’t,” Kato replied with a grin, “but I do. I’m known for finding trouble—just ask my brother.”

  Skye chuckled, his eyes zeroing in on Taly when he saw her lean against the table for support. “It’s true. All I hear from Mother when I visit is how she always thought Kato would finally grow up once he passed the turn of his second century. But alas…”

  “Better a troublemaker than a celibate country hermit,” Kato retorted sharply.

  “Is that what she says about me?” Skye asked, completely unfazed. “Could be worse, I suppose.”

  “Okay, boys.” Taly held up her hands when she saw something mean creep into Kato’s expression. She was starting to get the impression that it irritated the older mage to no end when his barbs didn’t find their mark. “That’s enough. I’ll go with Kato if it means the two of you will shut up and leave me the hell alone.”

  “You know what, I don’t like it, but I’ll take it,” Skye said abruptly. Lightning streaked the cloudy sky behind him as he turned to Kato, who looked just as shocked as she felt. “But if she collapses again, take her to the healer. No arguments. That’s an order, Marshal.”

  Taly opened her mouth to protest, but Skye shushed her by pressing a chaste kiss to her brow. “Yes,” he said, ducking down to glare at her affectionately. “Eat. Get some rest. But if you’re still unwell after that, go see the healer. We all need to be at our best.”

  “Fine,” Taly conceded grumpily. “But be prepared to eat your words later on because I’m not going to need a healer.” Even if she did, once they had a chance to talk that evening, he would see why that wasn’t a possibility.

  “Thank you,” Skye said, pressing another kiss to her brow. His eyes dipped to her mouth, but instead of closing the distance, he just smiled and shook his head before quickly exiting the room. Apparently, he had learned by now to take whatever meager offering of peace she gave him and not ask questions.

  “Well!” Kato exclaimed once Skye had left the room. “I must say I’m impressed at my brother’s efficiency.”

  “I’m sorry, what?” Taly just stared at the arm that Kato offered.

  He gave her a disarming grin as he reached for her hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm. “My dear baby brother just managed to back you into a corner of your own making—a feat that I’m starting to suspect isn’t easy.”

  “Your flattery is wasted, Kato,” Taly countered, a shiver slithering down her spine. Hi
s fingers caressed the back of her hand, and she could just make out a faint tremor of aether prickling her skin. Most humans probably wouldn’t have even noticed the almost imperceptible swell of magic, would play it off as some sort of static charge, but she had grown up around shadow mages. Stress and fatigue tended to make their magic slightly unstable, creating tiny ripples in the surrounding aether.

  As Kato pulled her along, down the hallway and towards the aether lift that would take them down the 25 floors it would take to reach the courtyard, she tried to play off the weakness in her limbs as hunger, assured him that she was just tired every time she stumbled. But that tickle at the base of her skull, the feeling of his magic ghosting across her skin, was unnerving, almost predatory. It awoke some long-forgotten primal instinct, the need to survive, the need to run. When they crossed the threshold of the aether lift, she pulled her hand back and stepped away, leaning against the wall of the lift and pretending to nurse a headache as she rubbed at her temples.

  The rain was coming down in earnest as they stepped through the doors of the main building. Water had started to collect in the courtyard, and they had to carefully navigate the rapidly forming puddles. As they approached the line for the commissary, Kato offered her his coat, a plain, standard-issue Gate Watcher’s cloak made from waterproof canvas. The queue trailed out the door of the kitchens, through the mud and trampled down hay, and Taly accepted the garment gratefully, pulling the hood over her hair as the wind picked up.

  “Lovely weather we’re having,” she said, trying to break the heavy silence.

  Kato’s lips twitched. “Yes. Funny that the weather should take such a nasty turn as soon as you arrived. In fact, a lot of things seemed to have taken a turn as soon as you arrived. Why do you think that is?”

  “Bad luck.” Taly took a deep breath, trying to slow her racing heartbeat and praying that the dull patter of the rain would confuse Kato’s enhanced senses. “Some might even say I’m cursed.”

  That’s certainly not a lie, she thought, prodding carefully at the mental barrier.

  “Very bad luck,” he countered blithely. The smile on his lips fell, seemingly washed away by the rain. “You know I’m not sure what I’m angrier about—that someone’s creating shades or that there are those inside our walls selling out their own people. I’ve been thinking about it, and if I had to guess, I would say that our traitor most likely infiltrated the compound as a refugee during all of the confusion. I would also guess that she’s looking for something.”

  “She?” Taly pulled at the coat, trying to pass off the trembling in her hands as a shiver.

  Kato nodded, unaffected by the wet and the cold. Fey tended to run a few degrees warmer than humans. “Yes. That’s what the guards said when they were questioned—a woman brought them wine just before the time crystals in the gate went missing.”

  Taly’s throat bobbed, the only reaction she would allow herself as she continued to stare straight ahead. Why did everything always circle back around to time magic?

  “You know what I find myself wondering?” Kato mused. Although his face was the picture of concerned confusion as he scuffed at the edge of a puddle with his boot, his eyes were cold. “Now that our traitor has the time crystals from the Seren Gate, what do you think she’ll go for next? What is she after?”

  “I don’t know,” Taly replied stoically.

  “Are you sure?” Kato pressed. “Come on, you’re a smart girl. You don’t have any ideas?” Taly shook her head, unnerved by the ruthlessness she could see lurking just beneath the surface of that boyish façade. “That’s too bad,” he said with a convincing sigh. “Because if I knew what she wanted, I’d be tempted to just give it to her. Anyone would. Especially if it would save the lives of all these innocent people.” He held out his arms, gesturing toward the hundreds of displaced refugees milling about the courtyard. “How many more people have to die, Taly?”

  Because of you, her subconscious hissed at her. Time mage. Freak.

  Taly took a step back, her appetite having grown cold. “You know, on second thought, I’m not feeling very hungry. I think I’m just going to go to bed.” Shrugging out of his coat, she tossed it to him as she turned to walk away.

  His hand grabbed her wrist, and as he whirled her around to face him, a crest of pain, the sharpest one yet, tore through her, almost bringing her to her knees. She managed to bite back her cry, but when she looked up, what she saw in Kato’s eyes had her backing away. Suspicion. Betrayal. Anger. There was so much anger behind that deceptive smile. “Now, now… I promised my brother I’d take care of you,” he said with just the right amount of concern. “You’re starting to look a bit piqued. Stay in line. Let’s get something to eat.”

  “I’ll get something later. Promise,” Taly replied hastily, stumbling over her feet in her attempt to get away. This time he let her retreat, and it was all she could do not to run as she forced herself to slow her pace, edge around the courtyard as she pretended to shy away from the rain.

  He knew. Kato knew what she was. Maybe the first pulse of magic in the library really was an accident, and each spell that had subsequently snapped had been nothing more than a link in a chain reaction that had already been set in motion. But when Kato grabbed her arm just now, when he took her hand in the tower and looped her arm with his—she had felt it. The subtle, deliberate bite of shadow magic. Searching. Seeking. Its claws strummed the fraying cords of the enchantments woven across her skin, scraping across the barrier that was just barely holding back her magic. He hadn’t been sure before, but now… he had everything he needed. And he must have come to the same conclusion she had. Whoever was doing this was after her. Innocent people had died because of her.

  As soon as she passed through the doors of the main building, Taly started sprinting, choosing to take the servants’ stairs. The darkened stairwell was deserted, and she finally allowed herself to sag against the wall, panting. Another whip-like snap of pain jolted her body, and her lip bled as she desperately attempted to shove the released power back behind the wall. Gasping for breath, she started taking the stairs at a far more sedate pace.

  She couldn’t stay here, not anymore. She couldn’t knowingly endanger more innocent lives just so that she could stay hidden. And no matter how much she may have wanted to, she couldn’t tell Skye. Because if she did, he might not make the right decision. He might not send her away. She couldn’t take that chance.

  You’re the only thing keeping me going. That’s what he had said to Taly just hours earlier. Bursting into their room, she hesitated. This was going to kill him. He would never forgive her. If she ran out on him a second time, that was it. He might still care about her, but he would be well within his rights to wash his hands of her. For good.

  But maybe it was better that way. Maybe she had been right the first time. He really was better off without her. Everyone was.

  Peeling off her now-sopping wet coat and sweater, Taly paused as three tiny, bell-shaped blooms fluttered to the floor. She had found them growing in the courtyard and stopped to pluck them as she and Skye made their way to the tower to meet with the other members of the leadership.

  Snowdrops. The same as the twining mass of flowers that Skye had so lovingly etched onto the crystal frame of her pistols.

  Picking up one of the wilting buds, Taly twirled the stem between her forefinger and thumb, gently prodding at the wall and teasing out a small trickle of magic from between the stones. As she watched the golden mist snake its way between her fingers, she couldn’t help but think it felt familiar in a way, this power—like an old friend. The golden threads wove themselves around the bloom, pulling and tightening until the petals were once again smooth and supple and new.

  She had to leave. About that, she was sure. But this time, she wouldn’t just disappear into the night with no explanation.

  This time, she would say goodbye.

  Chapter 24

  -From the personal notes of Ivain Castaro


  The 25th day of the month Ares, during the 246th year of the Empty Throne

  As I approach my elderhood, evenings like this are what I live for. Late summer on Tempris has always been my favorite—the sunsets are so vibrant, so heartbreakingly beautiful, that even the most hard-hearted of souls couldn’t help but stop and linger.

  As I write this, we are all out on the third-floor balcony—Sarina, myself, and the children—enjoying the last of the summer air. Sarina is currently sitting to my left, thoroughly engrossed in her latest hobby. Something with glass and paint that I don’t really care to understand. And of course, the children, if I can really still call them that, are doing what they do best—bickering.

  In her attempt to educate the younglings on mortal culture, Sarina recently taught them how to play a human game called chess. It has been an entertaining experiment, to say the least, especially considering how antagonistically competitive those two have always been. The game they started this evening has been going on for nearly two hours now.

  They are at a standstill currently, and though Skye has more pieces left on the board, I believe Taly may actually have the advantage—if she can keep it. Her strategy is quite bold. So far, she has risked everything, even going so far as to sacrifice her queen two turns back. Skye, however, has chosen a different approach. I daresay he is at times as daring as Taly in his tactics, but only to a point. For he has now retreated and protects his queen at all costs. He has already had several opportunities to take the lead, but he refuses to give up that one piece.

  And now I see that she has him backed into a corner. He has nowhere else to retreat and no choice but to play his queen or throw the game. Taly is already quite confident in her impending victory, but Skye seems to be wavering now in the face of defeat. I know for a fact that there is nothing the boy hates more than losing to Taly, but after such dogged dedication to this strategy of his, I can’t help but wonder which option he’ll choose.