An Echo of Things to Come

by James Islington

  It was too late now, though.

  “I shouldn’t have come here,” he said in frustration.

  Karaliene peered at him. “Glad to see you’re alive and well, too,” she said primly, though her blue eyes flashed at the words. She gave him a dangerous smile. “It’s good that you’re here, because we have a lot to discuss.”

  Caeden winced. “Sorry—I didn’t mean it like …” He sighed. “I’ve put you in danger. We need to get inside, out of sight. Now. Does anyone else know I’m here?”

  Karaliene frowned, shaking her head. “I was about to send someone to fetch—”

  “Don’t tell them. Don’t tell anyone.” Caeden rubbed his forehead, mind racing. “Can these men be trusted not to talk?”

  Karaliene’s frown deepened, but she nodded. “If I speak to them.” She indicated that he should wait, then moved to the gate and murmured to the four men there. They listened intently, and nodded as one when she finished.

  “They won’t breathe a word,” said Karaliene as she came back, glancing over her shoulder at the men, who were already facing back out into the street. “And we can get to my rooms without attracting too much notice.” She shot an inquisitive look at him. “But then you’re going to explain what’s going on.”

  Caeden gave her a small, relieved smile. “Agreed.”

  The palace grounds were reasonably quiet as they wound their way toward the main building, and those few who glanced at him appeared to be doing so out of curiosity as to who was accompanying the princess, rather than from any recognition. Some here would have seen him fight, but not many had done so up close.

  Soon enough they were alone in Karaliene’s quarters, and the princess was indicating that he should sit. He watched her silently for a few seconds, wrestling with his emotions. As dangerous as he knew he was to her, now that the decision had been taken out of his hands, he felt … excited. Happy. He hadn’t realized how badly he’d wanted to see her again, even with how much things had changed since they’d last been together. She had a way of lightening his burdens when no one else could.

  He was also acutely aware of how selfish that feeling was.

  “Now,” said Karaliene after she’d composed herself. “This ‘danger’ that you mentioned.” She leaned forward expectantly.

  Caeden closed his eyes. He knew that what he felt for Karaliene wasn’t love—not yet, anyway. But there was something, and it went beyond attraction. Something that, given time, had the potential to become more. She’d made him smile when it had seemed that everything else around him was crumbling. She’d believed in him when she’d had every right not to. She had befriended him, seen something in him that he wasn’t sure anyone else had.

  He swallowed. She’d seen the good in him—seen him as the man he wanted to be. He knew now, looking into her eyes, that he desperately didn’t want that to change.

  But he didn’t want to lie to her, either. Hers was the one relationship he could remember that had felt truly open, truly without fear or deception. The only one in which he’d felt that he could truly be himself.

  “I’ll get to that,” he said quietly, more playing for time than anything else. “How are the others? Davian, Wirr, Taeris?”

  “Tor’s away—he’s gone to visit his family in the country. Taeris is at Tol Athian right now. Davian … Davian’s gone to find other Augurs, to help seal the Boundary. He left almost as quickly as you did.” There was a mild note of accusation in the last sentence.

  “Ah.” Caeden sighed. Perhaps it was for the best. The more people he saw, the more he could potentially drag into danger. None of them were in the same sort of peril as Karaliene, of course, but with Isiliar still out there …

  Karaliene smiled, but there was sadness in her eyes as she watched him. “You’re not staying, are you?” she said quietly after a few moments of silence, a statement more than a question.

  Caeden shook his head, the action laden with regret. “I can’t,” he said softly. “There’s so much happening that I need to—”

  “I know.” Karaliene gave him a small smile, her eyes understanding. “Tor told me what you said, before you left after the battle. There’s more to it than just the Blind, isn’t there?”

  Caeden swallowed. He didn’t want to make the situation seem hopeless to Karaliene—to anyone—but he couldn’t deceive her, not about this.

  “If the Boundary falls, I think we’ll be facing worse than the Blind,” he admitted. “There’s another threat, too. Something I’m the only one able to stop.” He said the words miserably, feeling their weight as he spoke them.

  Karaliene placed a comforting hand over his, not saying anything. Caeden tried to give her a grateful smile, but the effort died on his lips.

  “I’ve remembered things, Kara,” he said suddenly. He knew it was the wrong move, knew how much it could jeopardize everything. Yet in that moment—gazing into Karaliene’s eyes—he didn’t care. He just wanted honesty. He needed truth with her, even if he had it with no one else. “Not everything, but … enough. Things about who I was. The things I’ve done. I’m not the—”

  “Has it changed you?” Karaliene cut him off.

  Caeden blinked. “No. I … no, I don’t think so,” he said slowly. “It’s been confusing, but I’m trying not to let it.”

  “Then it doesn’t matter.” Karaliene’s tone was calm but firm. She looked at him, and he saw that the sentiment was genuine. “You’re on our side. You fought for us, saved us. That’s what’s important. That’s what I care about.”

  Caeden stared at her for a few moments, then swallowed a lump in his throat. She meant it.

  “Thank you.” He met her gaze steadily, trying to convey the gratitude he felt and knowing he was failing. “Still. There are some things I need you to hear.”

  Karaliene studied him for a moment, then nodded slowly.

  “Then tell me,” she said quietly.

  Dawn was close to breaking by the time silence fell between them again.

  Kara had done most of the listening, allowing Caeden to wander his way through the information he’d gleaned since he’d left, skipping back and forth as he remembered one detail or another. Occasionally she prompted him to explain something further, but otherwise just nodded along to indicate that she was paying attention.

  Caeden had told her almost everything, in the end. Not the fact of his being Aarkein Devaed, or what he’d done to the Darecians at the Plains of Decay, or that he was responsible for the murders in Desriel—Kara had said that his past didn’t matter to her and though part of him still wanted to come completely clean, the excuse made it too easy to keep those to himself.

  But he told her about the Lyth. About Licanius, and the events that he had set in motion by taking it. About the Venerate, and Shammaeloth, and his apparent inability to die.

  And then, though it made him sick to do so, he’d told her about Nethgalla. Explained, awkwardly, that he’d been married. That the Ath had stolen his wife’s form—that Caeden had essentially created her, had let her into this world because of his desire to save Ell. He again skimmed over the details; though he had no specific memories of the wedding, he knew enough of what he’d done. Knew that he had sacrificed lives to try and bring Ell back.

  When he was finished, Karaliene sat for a few moments, staring at the steadily brightening horizon to the east. She shook her head, eyes wide.

  “Caeden, that’s …” To his surprise she reached over, took his hand. A comforting gesture rather than a romantic one, but still. “I’m so sorry. That is more horrible than anything I can imagine.”

  Caeden let her hand rest on his for a few precious seconds.

  Then he stiffened. Was sympathy, this implied acceptance of what he’d just told her, how Karaliene would normally react? He knew immediately that it was an irrational thought; even so, his memory of Astria was still painfully fresh, and the seeds of doubt it had planted were now hard to ignore.

  He reflexively drew his hand away, mor
e sharply than he’d meant to.

  “Oh.” Karaliene blinked at him in confusion, abashed. “Sorry.”

  “No. It’s not …” Caeden gritted his teeth.

  Karaliene’s frown deepened as she watched him.

  “Fates, Caeden,” she said softly. “I’m me. You can ask me anything.”

  Caeden shook his head, flushing. “I shouldn’t have to. I’m sorry.” He rubbed his forehead. “I just … I remember what it was like. I remember how good she was at pretending to be someone else. And how it felt when I realized that the person I’d been talking to, confiding in, laughing with all that time—that they had been dead for …” The emotion of those moments suddenly hit him again and he paused, a lump in his throat. Old wounds, he knew, but still.

  There was silence for a few seconds and then Karaliene switched positions, coming to sit next to him.

  “There’s a group of Gifted leaving soon for Deilannis,” she said abruptly. “You should go with them. You could look out for them, and … I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt to have other people watching your back.” She looked at him hopefully.

  Caeden hesitated, then shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. Isiliar may still be after me, and I’m not sure I can protect myself from her, let alone anyone else.” He sighed. “I don’t think I can delay even for that long, either. As much as I’d like to,” he added quietly.

  Karaliene looked disappointed, but nodded her understanding.

  “You have changed, you know,” she said suddenly. Caeden’s heart sank, but she waved away his concerned expression. “You’re more … confident, now, I think. You know your purpose.” She smiled. “My feelings for you are the same, though.”

  Caeden’s heart skipped a beat but he said nothing for a few moments, mentally turning the words over to make sure that he hadn’t misunderstood.

  “Even after what I’ve just told you?” he asked eventually.

  “Even after whatever you haven’t,” said Karaliene quietly.

  She brushed back a strand of flaxen hair and leaned in, smiling almost hesitantly at him as she drew closer, green eyes fixed on his. Her kiss was slow and passionate, and it took a moment for Caeden to allow himself to believe that it was really happening.

  He lost track of time after that.

  When they finally, reluctantly stood, the sun had well and truly raised itself above the eastern horizon outside the window. He and Karaliene walked side by side toward the gate, Karaliene occasionally leaning in and gently touching his shoulder with hers, resting on him for a few moments at a time.

  Caeden pulled up short as they approached, just out of sight of the guards.

  “You need to be careful. To protect yourself,” he reiterated. “I have no idea what information Nethgalla might have. She may not know anything about you, but if she does …”

  “I understand,” Kara assured him soberly. She shifted. “What will you do in Deilannis? To her, I mean. Will you …?”

  Caeden grimaced.

  “I don’t know yet,” he admitted softly.

  Karaliene sighed, nodding. “It seems almost pointless to say, but still. Be careful.”

  Before he knew what was happening, she was kissing him again.

  They eventually parted, Caeden flushed and slightly breathless. He stared at the princess with wide eyes.

  Karaliene grinned at him. “Just wanted to make sure that you don’t forget me.” Before he could respond, she was walking away, disappearing between the columns at the edge of the courtyard and leaving him alone.

  Caeden stared after her for a few moments longer, then felt a slow grin of his own spread across his face. He shook his head, wondering at how light he suddenly felt. It was the first time he’d felt this way, this happy, since …

  Since the last time he’d seen her. He almost laughed aloud at the realization.

  Filled with renewed vigor, he left, nodding to the guards cheerfully as he passed them on his way out of the grounds. Once on the road, he turned toward Fedris Idri, determined to make a good start of it despite the late hour.

  It was time to go back to Deilannis.

  It was time to face Nethgalla.

  Chapter 26

  She’s coming, said Erran’s voice inside Davian’s head.

  Davian straightened in his seat. Moments later, Ishelle’s familiar figure walked into the tavern.

  He kept his face smooth, making eye contact and nodding briefly to her from his table in the corner. Ishelle hesitated, glancing around before coming over.

  “So,” she said as she slid into the chair opposite. “This is awkward.” Despite the lightness of her tone, the young woman looked more worn down than Davian had ever seen her, with dark circles under bloodshot eyes betraying her exhaustion.

  He gave her a tight, sympathetic smile. “There’s only one person to blame for everything that’s happened, and it’s not you.”

  Ishelle snorted. “I know that. I was talking about you outsmarting me.”

  Davian stared at her for a moment, then chuckled.

  Everything all right? Erran’s voice intruded in Davian’s head.

  I think so.

  Ishelle sighed, oblivious to the exchange as she stared at Davian appraisingly. “Let’s get this over with.” She grimaced, reluctance and distaste heavy in her expression. “I’m not Shielding myself. Do what you need to.”

  Davian inclined his head, grateful that he didn’t have to insist. They both knew that this was the only way to ensure Rohin’s influence was gone, and there was little point discussing anything else until it was confirmed.

  He reached out with kan and touched Ishelle’s mind lightly, breathing out in relief as he saw that there was no trace of the oozing, oil-like influence Fessi and Erran had described. He swallowed, trying to withdraw as quickly and gently as he could, but unable to avoid feeling some of Ishelle’s roiling emotions through the connection.

  She was calm on the outside, but touching her mind was like hearing a long shriek of horror. He was doing his best to avoid Reading anything specific, but Ishelle’s thoughts were … jumbled. Disturbed. Saturated with shame and rage.

  Davian didn’t know what Rohin had done to her, or made her do. But she remembered, and it was tormenting her.

  He met her gaze, trying to convey sympathy but not really knowing what to say.

  “All right,” he said softly. “It’s gone. Nice to have you back, Shel.” He hesitated. “I’m sorry you had to—”

  “Let’s not talk about it.” Ishelle’s tone brooked no argument, and Davian inclined his head. He would be there if Ishelle wanted someone to talk to, but it wasn’t his place to press the issue.

  “Have the Gifted recovered?” he asked eventually.

  “Some. Most seemed to be back to normal yesterday, but there are still a few who won’t do anything they think is ‘disloyal’ to …” She shook her head.

  Davian nodded; it was much as he and the others had guessed, then. “Does Driscin have any theories?”

  “He wouldn’t say much to me.” She sighed. “No one’s saying much to me right now.”

  Davian winced, hearing the frustration in Ishelle’s voice. “I take it you haven’t been Reading the Gifted?”

  “I’m not even willing to suggest it,” Ishelle said soberly. “Things are … not great at the Tol right now. To be honest, there aren’t many Gifted who are willing to be in the same ward as me, let alone the same room.”

  Davian grunted. “How’s Driscin?”

  For the first time, the hint of a genuine smile crept onto Ishelle’s lips. “Still miffed.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “I can’t believe that he agreed to your messing around with his memories. Neither can he, I think.”

  Davian smiled slightly. “There wasn’t any other way. We knew that we couldn’t reach the vault without you knowing where we were. We knew that there was no way to get to Rohin if you were near him, and no way to get you away from him unless you both truly, absolutely believed that it was for
a good reason.” He shrugged. “It made sense that once you knew where we were, you’d wait for us outside the vault. And it made sense that Rohin would want to hear our plan from Driscin rather than from me.”

  “Yes. I figured all of that out. Eventually,” said Ishelle drily. She tapped at the table absently for a few moments, studying Davian. “Driscin said to come back and see him once you’d verified that I was all right. I imagine he’s got an idea of what should happen next.”

  Then she paused, shifting uncomfortably. “So what … what did you do with him?” The heaviness of her tone left little doubt as to about whom she was talking.

  Davian paused, reminding himself that he’d checked Ishelle. It was safe to trust her again.

  “Fessi’s been keeping him hidden—I’m not even sure where, to be honest. But he’s nearby.” He gazed at her curiously. “You can’t sense him?”

  Ishelle shook her head. “I tried, believe me. Driscin told me what you did—told me all about that amulet. It was one of the few ways that he felt he could actually help Rohin, before Rohin’s influence wore off. Trust me, the amulet works.”

  Davian was silent for a few moments, then leaned forward.

  “What Rohin said to me. About Elder Dain and the Council having known about the attack on Ilin Illan,” he said quietly. “Was that true?” He’d all but forgotten Rohin’s accusation in the madness that had immediately followed, but these past couple of days had given him plenty of time to wonder about it.

  Ishelle hesitated.

  “I don’t know,” she admitted, looking uncomfortable. “I wasn’t there when he forced Elder Dain to tell him all of that.”

  Davian sighed. Rohin could have been lying to him—there had been no way to tell either way, locked up in his cell—but it hadn’t felt like he was.

  “We should talk to Driscin about it,” Ishelle added. “If he knows something, you’ll soon figure it out.”

  “Good point.” Davian levered himself to his feet. “No reason to waste time, then, I suppose.”

  Ishelle glanced around. “The others?”