Shadow Lost (The Shadow Accords Book 4)

by D. K. Holmberg

  Carth smiled and raised a hand. “Wait here.”

  She hurried from the room and returned with her Tsatsun board. When she started setting it up, Lindy watched her with wide eyes. “How is it that you know how to play this? Did your father teach you this as well?”

  Carth shook her head. “As far as I can tell, this is a game from Lashasn. I learned it from a man who considered himself a master.”

  Carth quickly got the board set up and made the first move. Would Lindy be any more skilled than Dara?

  “Lashasn? No, that can’t be right. As I said, my grandmother taught me.”

  “Then your grandmother was descended from Lashasn. You were in Ih-lash. It shouldn’t be surprising that there are others with that history there.”

  “My grandmother would not have been from Lashasn,” she said softly.

  “Why? The people of Ih and those of Lashasn came together long ago.”

  “I know the story of Carthenne.”

  Carth smiled. “Good. Then you understand why I want to ensure that peace remains.”

  “You think you can recreate what Carthenne of old did?”

  “I think I can ensure that there is some lasting peace. I don’t know what else I can achieve, but peace. That seems like something I can do.”

  She made a move on the board and waited.

  Lindy watched her, her mouth folding into a tight frown. Would she be able to get over the same prejudice she carried from her time in Isahl, or would she continue to struggle against it?

  Lindy nodded, almost to herself, and slid a piece across the board.

  Carth knew the move and allowed her to play it out. She could think of nearly a dozen different ways that such a move could help, and a dozen where it would be nothing more than a demonstration of ignorance. Which one would it be for Lindy?

  As they played, Carth discovered that Lindy had progressed far more than Dara. She didn’t consider it a criticism of Dara, only that Lindy had more advanced moves, and she seemed to recognize what Carth did.

  It still didn’t stop Carth from defeating her, but it did give Carth a chance to determine what Lindy might know, and how she might play. The woman had potential, if only she would be willing to use it.

  “Does your brother play?” Carth said as she began putting the pieces back into the container she used to store them.

  “Andin?” Lindy shook her head. “Andin has never had the right patience for this. He’ll play, but he gets frustrated when he can’t win.”

  “Tsatsun can do that to people. It’s easy to get upset when you don’t have success.”

  “Where did you learn to play like that?” Lindy asked.

  “Odian. There’s a man there who taught me.”

  “I think you could even have beaten my grandmother,” she said.

  Carth wondered if that was a compliment and decided to take it as one.

  “What now?” Lindy asked.

  “Now we need to stop additional attacks.”

  “I thought you didn’t know how to find them.”

  Carth tapped the Tsatsun board, her fingers drumming along the slick surface, tracing from one square to the next. Doing this soothed her and helped her focus. What she needed was a way to place all the pieces that were coming together in a specific order in her mind so that she could play the game out in a way that would help her understand what she might be missing. If only this was a game.

  “I don’t. Not entirely. But there’s something we can do to stop the blood priests. I’ve seen the key to stopping them.”

  “What is it?”

  “Fire.”

  Lindy stared at the board before looking up to Carth. “You would have us risk them.”

  “There is no risk.” Carth didn’t think there would be, but what if the A’ras didn’t agree to offer protection?

  “Lashasn attacked—”

  Carth breathed out. “It wasn’t Lashasn. Lindy… I need your help with this. We need to stop these blood priests, and the Reshian can’t help.”

  “And Lashasn can?”

  “The A’ras use fire. It works against the priests.”

  Lindy stared at the Tsatsun board, as if searching for answers. After a while, she nodded. “I will convince them.” She looked up, meeting Carth’s eyes. “That is what you need of me, isn’t it?”

  Carth nodded. “Thank you.”

  Lindy held her gaze. “You will either save us…”

  “Or?”

  She hesitated before answering. “Destroy us.”

  20

  Months had passed since she had last seen Nyaesh. In that time, Carth had become a different person. She had long ago discovered her connection to the shadows, but it was the connection to the S’al that had changed things the most for her. While in Nyaesh and studying with the A’ras, she hadn’t managed the same level of skill others possessed. She had power—Invar had seen that about her—but not the easy way to reach it. Since she’d discovered the ability to focus using her mother’s ring, even that restriction had changed.

  Leaving had been a necessity. She had protected the A’ras from the Hjan, but they had blamed the Reshian. Now they sailed toward Nyaesh only because Carth had no other way of finding the Reshian. Had she had another way, she would have taken it. She didn’t want to return to the city.

  “You’re tense,” Dara said.

  Carth pulled her attention away from the waves crashing along the bow of the ship, trying to ignore the sense of growing unease within her, a sense that she suspected came from whatever connection she shared with the city, and looked to where the five survivors of Isahl stood at the railing.

  They had passed two empty ships—both Reshian—in their travels toward Nyaesh. How many had the blood priests claimed?

  Worse—how powerful had they become?

  Even if she managed to convince the A’ras to help—and she wasn’t certain she could—there might not be anything they could do against that kind of magic.

  “I worry for them in Nyaesh. They don’t all know why we needed to come.”

  “There’s more to it than that,” Dara said.

  Carth nodded slowly. “I don’t want to return.”

  “This was your home.”

  “For a while,” Carth answered. “I never really had a home.”

  “And you blame your father for that.”

  Carth clenched her jaw. That was the heart of it. Her father had hidden so much from her. Searching for him would provide answers, but was she ready for them? “My father abandoned me.”

  “You told me that your father ensured you had the training you needed.”

  “Had I had the training I needed, I would have been better prepared for the Hjan.”

  Dara laughed softly, and the sound of her voice was drowned out by the crashing of the waves along the ship. “I think you’ve done well enough, don’t you? You defeated them twice in Nyaesh, and then you forced them to make a peace treaty when they wanted old enemies to destroy each other.”

  Carth smiled. “When you put it like that…” She sighed. “And now there are other worries,” she said, looking back to Lindy and Andin.

  “Do you really think they could have infiltrated the C’than?”

  “I don’t know that I understand the C’than, but from what Ras said, I wouldn’t put it past them.”

  “If that’s the case, then they would have to have done it long before now.”

  “And coming to Nyaesh is what we need to do to understand?”

  “It’s another move,” Carth said absently. She hoped she played it right. For this move, at least she knew some of the players and how they would respond. It had been years since she’d known her father, but she thought she knew how he would answer. “Perhaps not the one I want, but what we need.”

  “Want? If I were to have what I wanted, I would have returned to my home, my sisters, and I would have one day married Ril Seaban. Haven’t you taught me that we have to play the turn we’re given?”
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br />   Carth looked over to Dara, realizing that perhaps she’d misjudged the woman. Maybe she had been listening during their games. “That’s what I’ve been saying.”

  “You have. I’m trying to listen.”

  “I know.”

  Dara looked over the railing into the distance. “Thank you for your patience. I know I made a mistake…”

  “We all do.”

  “And you’ve been good about working with me. I appreciate that. I don’t know what the slavers would have done with me had you not brought us off the ship.”

  “You were going to Wesjan either way, I think.”

  “And you let me do it freely. Just as you should realize that you’re doing this freely.”

  The docks of Nyaesh loomed into view and Carth stared at them, unable to take her eyes off of them. This had been home as much as anything over the years. Now… now her home was this ship.

  “Freely, but not by choice. Does that make any sense?” she asked.

  “It makes all the sense it needs to make,” Dara said.

  They fell into silence as the ship slowly approached the shores of Nyaesh. Carth felt a certain heaviness, but also felt pulled toward the shore. She remembered all too well the first time she’d seen Nyaesh, though that had been from the ground. Her parents had never been able to afford boat transport, though it would have been easier to travel. They walked, which Carth now suspected gave them a certain anonymity that traveling by boat would not have allowed.

  Guya was a skilled captain and steered them into the docks smoothly. There were dozens of ships docked, more than usual, and Carth saw nothing about them to explain why. Some were familiar and reminded her of the massive ship the blood priests had used, but they had none of the bloodstained sails or hull.

  Carth and Dara had grown accustomed to helping tie up when they reached the dock and handled the lines well. Not quite like Guya’s previous crew would have managed, but well enough for him not to need to hire others. Learning how to handle the ship had been one stipulation Carth had for him, and Guya had not opposed it. Losing his ship to his first mate had made that an easier decision.

  Once settled, Guya met her on the deck. He wore a beige shirt that had little frill to it, yet still had a decorative appearance. A long sword was sheathed at his waist. When Carth cocked her head and nodded to him, he shrugged. “Nyaesh is fancier than some places we’ve been visiting,” he said.

  She laughed. “Only fancy if you haven’t spent any time here.”

  “Still fancy,” he said.

  Dara stood on her other shoulder, hands holding on to the railing. “What do you intend to do?”

  “This part of the city is nothing but docks and taverns,” Carth said. Her gaze drifted to the Wounded Lyre. She could see the outline of it from where they were situated. After all the time she’d been away, she still felt drawn to it. Were Hal and Vera still even there? Would there be anyone else she knew there?

  Yet… most her time in the city had been spent with the A’ras. She had spent countless days within the palace walls, training and hoping for answers.

  “That’s not where you intend to go,” Guya said.

  “It’s not.”

  “What of them?” he asked, nodding to those from Isahl. Andin stared at the city, his eyes a mixture of wide-eyed excitement and distrust. Lindy stood observing, one hand planted on her hips, her mouth pinched tightly.

  “They should remain on board for now,” she said. “The last time I was here, the Reshian weren’t well received.”

  “They’re not from Reshian,” Dara said.

  “No, but they have similar sentiments. I think we’re less likely to have trouble with them if they remain on board.”

  Guya looked from Carth to Dara and shook his head. “Guess I don’t get to experience the fancy.”

  Carth clapped him on the shoulder. It was best for him to stay on board, but she didn’t want to be the one to suggest it. “I’ll make sure you get a chance at some finery.”

  He grinned at her, then lowered the ramp for them to climb down.

  As soon as Carth reached the dock and entered the city, old emotions washed over her. She stopped on the street leading toward the rest of the city, watching the people moving around her, and flashed back to when she’d been younger. As hard as that time had been, they weren’t all bad memories.

  “This was where I learned to steal,” Carth said softly.

  “You were a thief?” Dara asked.

  They made their way along the street, and Carth made a point of not looking back, and not focusing on the Lyre. “I was a thief, but we never considered ourselves thieves. We were always strays, and the money we took scraps from strangers.”

  “I imagine with your connection to the shadows, you were skilled at taking scraps.”

  “More than the others. I didn’t have to collect for as long.”

  They started up the wide Doland Street, which led toward the palace. From here, she considered the old herbalist whom she’d briefly thought she would be able to learn from. Before that woman had disappeared, Carth had hoped she would have been able to work with her, and that she would have been able to learn an honest trade. Even in that, it was not meant to be.

  As they crested a rise, there was the glimmer of sunlight off the palace.

  Coming into the city this way, first by water and then through the streets, she was more aware than ever of the connection to the A’ras magic. It pulled on her, drawing her forward. She still didn’t understand the A’ras flame, but she understood that it was the power that allowed the A’ras to use a magic like what those of Lashasn used.

  “You haven’t told me where we’re heading,” Dara said.

  Carth noted that she held on to a hint of power. Would the A’ras notice the same, or would the fact that she connected more directly to it prevent them from seeing it? Invar might know, but then Invar was connected in the same way as Carth, and as Dara.

  She pointed toward the palace.

  “The palace? Who do you know in the palace?”

  “That is where the A’ras train,” she said.

  “First a thief, and then a princess. You’ve lived quite the life, Carth.”

  She snorted. “Not a princess.” But she was right. Coming to Nyaesh, she had lived quite a life. Was it the one her parents had wanted for her? Was this what they had expected when they had brought her here?

  She couldn’t believe this would be what her mother had wanted for her. Her mother would have wanted her to have peace. Yet… this was where her mother had brought her. They had intended for her to come to Nyaesh, and they had likely intended for her to learn from the A’ras. With that being the case, why should it surprise her that she had ended up here, and done what she had?

  Carth had rarely walked along Doland Street so openly. When she had lived with Vera and Hal at the Wounded Lyre, Carth had come this way mostly while chasing others and collecting scraps. When she had lived in the palace, she had come this way when patrolling, but there had never been a time when she’d felt as if she belonged out in the street. There had never been a time when she’d felt safe. Even after training with the A’ras, she hadn’t felt safe, not with the potential for both Reshian and Hjan attacks. She had better control of her abilities now and nothing to fear.

  She looked around, expecting to find others of the A’ras patrolling, but so far, they hadn’t come across anyone. There was no one with the maroon sash. The streets carried a boisterous sort of noise, one that was a sharp contrast to what she’d heard in Isahl, or even what she’d experienced in Odian. This was a vibrancy to the city, one that Carth now recognized as healthy.

  Why weren’t other cities like this?

  “What is it?” Dara asked her.

  Carth shook her head. “It’s nothing. Just more questions,” she said.

  They reached the wall surrounding the palace. She could use the shadows or the A’ras magic and leap the wall, but that would get her nowhere. Then she
would have to sneak through the grounds, which she had no intention of doing. She needed answers and wanted to come openly so that she could get them.

  At the wall, she paused.

  Two A’ras stood on either side of the gate, both wearing sheathed long swords, with the maroon sash wrapped around their arms. The nearest was a face she recognized and hadn’t expected to see quite so soon upon her return. She had thought it possible that she might see him, but what were the odds that Samis patrolled the gate?

  “You know him?” Dara asked.

  “I know him.”

  “That should make it easier.”

  Carth sighed. “Not exactly.”

  Taking a deep breath, she approached Samis at the gate.

  21

  Carth tried framing what she would say in her mind while making her way toward him. What was there to say to Samis? He had been out in the field of Wesjan during the attack, but she hadn’t approached. The only one who knew she was there had been Invar, and he hadn’t revealed her presence to anyone else. As far as Samis knew, she had last been on the grounds when the Hjan had attacked, and she had betrayed the A’ras.

  “The grounds are closed,” Samis said. He didn’t look at her—not really look at her. His hand hovered near the hilt of his sword. She knew him to be a skilled swordsman, and he had defeated her every time they had sparred in the past. But that was before she had discovered the connection to the S’al.

  “I would like to see Master Invar.”

  Samis shook his head. “Invar isn’t available.” He met her eyes and blinked. His hand gripped his sword with more force. “Rel?”

  She nodded. “I need to see Invar, Samis.”

  “Dammit, Rel, you shouldn’t have come.”

  “I had to come.”

  “The last time you were here, you were the reason the Reshian attacked.”

  Could he still believe that? How many others did as well?

  “Is that what you think? Didn’t Alison tell you what I did?”