“I know what you mean.” Ancel glanced down at the giant. “Maybe, we were waiting for him.”
“Let’s hope so.”
They traveled the last several hundred feet in silence, the snowfall growing heavier. Ancel prayed he was right about the stranger, because Mirza was right. Hanging around in Eldanhill did not bode well. At some point, either the Tribunal’s Pathfinders would come or the Sendethi would win out and strike against Eldanhill once more. Worse yet, the man who’d taken his mother might return with the shadeling army he commanded.
One thing appeared certain. He needed to be prepared, and he hoped his teacher provided all the answers to his questions.
“We’re here,” Stefan called from ahead as they pulled up in front of Shin Galiana’s hospice.
Chapter 8
“Are you positive that was their order?” High Shin Jerem asked for the third time as he paced to the room’s window. “To kill Ryne?”
“Yes,” Irmina stressed, “and also whoever he’s linked with.”
Jerem paused for a moment. “They said this after you told them what?” He began to pace again.
“That Ryne may be descended from the Eztezians, and-”
“No. No.” He waved a pale, spindly hand and stopped in the middle of the carpet between the window and the table. “They already knew what he was. What did you say directly before the command?”
“I told them he was headed to Eldanhill, and his bodyguard turned out to be a netherling.”
Jerem harrumphed. Stroking his beard with his thumb and forefinger, he peered out the window. “Come here. Let this be your first lesson as a Raijin.”
Irmina hesitated for a moment before tightening her shoulders and striding over to her mentor.
He pointed out the window. “What do you see?”
Standing next to High Shin Jerem always gave her a sense of smallness despite his fragile appearance. It wasn’t the fact he stood head and shoulders taller than her either. Something about the man made her think of herself as inconsequential. The sight out the window increased the sensation a hundred fold.
Day after day, Jerem had sent her into the Iluminus’ streets to study them and the people. He’d made her plan as if someone was chasing her and she needed to escape. Anytime she asked his reason for doing so, he said the same thing. ‘Knowing your surroundings and every avenue available to you will one day save your life.’ She’d stopped questioning him after a mission to assassinate a trader in Barson’s capital. Only through intimate knowledge of the city did she manage to escape.
Below and across from their tower, streets wide enough to hold several wagons abreast spanned between a canyon of white walls and steel. Many began several stories high between spires, parapets, platforms, doorways, and sometimes disappearing into white light. A latticework of numerous walkways crisscrossed below the window she looked out. The Iluminus was a multitude of structures that made up one building, and yet it was a city within itself. People dotted the paths like specks of dirt blown in the wind. Even the wagons, coaches, drays, and carts appeared no bigger than her arm. From this height in the Iluminus the colors of the different clothes were the blotched paint mixtures on an abstract artist’s canvas. One bled into the other.
“What do you see?”
Irmina snapped her mouth shut. “People. Thousands of them. Tens of thousands. Maybe hundreds of thousands.”
“And?”
Lips pursed in concentration Irmina took in the sights. “The vast majority of them are Matii.”
“Good. What else?”
“Many have been using the Travelshafts?”
The portals began along the Shining Way, which was one of the brightest and broadest avenues in the Iluminus. The crowds were packed more densely there than anywhere else.
“Yes,” Jerem pursed his lips, “and that in itself may prove more than troublesome, but that’s not what I meant. Tell me more. About the Matii themselves.”
“They all belong to the Tribunal, to the Exalted.”
Jerem harrumphed. “Continue.”
“The light?”
“What about it?”
“There isn’t a single shadow.”
He gave a noncommittal grunt. “Open your Matersense.”
Irmina did as he commanded.
The essences within the elements of Mater inhabiting everything in the world bloomed before her eyes. They rolled through the air in waves and bands, some thick, others thin, some clearly visible and others faint wisps. They varied in color similar to the people below.
“What do you see now?”
Brow puckering as she strained to take in the sight of it all, Irmina attempted to tell the individual essences apart. Earth, metal, and wood were all a part of the element of Forms and its solids. The air and what must be water trickling off into self-contained drains running vertically down the many buildings, but never spilling out, were both essences within the Flows and its liquids. She squinted for a sight of fire, cold, of the energy of the Streams. Heat rose from the people themselves. Light dominated, imbued within every structure. Shade was almost as prevalent. She paused.
Shade?
How could that be when light engulfed everything from the widest space, the tallest building, to the tiniest nook? The pride of the Iluminus was that no shadow could enter its halls. No creature of the shade could breach its walls. Yet, here was the essence of shade.
“Well?” Jerem asked, tone patient.
“I–I don’t understand,” Irmina said. “How does shade exist in a place without a single shadow. A place where light is ever present.
“How indeed,” Jerem said musingly.
“Why can I see it? Why can’t anyone else?”
Her thoughts whirled. She needed to understand the shade’s existence despite the light stored within the Iluminus. Possible answers flitted across her mind, but she dismissed each as improbable. The shade could not have hidden there in secret. What she witnessed was not an illusion. The Exalted had to be aware of the essence’s presence. The possibility of some unknown malevolence residing within the Iluminus seemed as preposterous as the Exalted themselves being shadelings.
“You didn’t really think the Exalted promoted you only because of what you have accomplished? Anyone strong enough to become a Raijin is tested. Those who fail …” his voice trailed off. “This is a secret only the highest know. The Iluminus must be seen to be without reproach for the most part.”
The answer struck her like a hammer blow. She gave him an incredulous stare. He smiled, his eyes giving off a delightful twinkle.
“The Tenets,” she whispered. “The first sentence of the Tenets for both of them. Light to balance shade. Shade to balance light.”
“But they destroy each other,” Jerem countered. “Each fated to forever oppose.”
“There are no absolutes.”
“Are you sure?” Jerem’s wisp of an eyebrow rose. “Is light not the direct opposite of shade?”
“Yes, but they’re equals,” Irmina said, certain of herself now. “One relies on the other. There is no light without shade, and no shade without light.”
“Yet people claim there is no shade within the Iluminus. So where does this darkness come from?”
“Within people’s hearts.”
Jerem’s face beamed with pride. “Excellent. Now you know where to look. Not without but within.”
“Why show me this now? What does this have to do with my orders?” Irmina allowed her attention to drift to the sights outside the window. From where they stood, the noise from all the activity below was a muted buzz.
“The Exalted believe everyone within the Iluminus belongs to them, mind, body and spirit.”
“They don’t?”
“Do you?”
Irmina pondered the question, but found no definitive answer. What she did know was that she would obey her orders.
“At least you are uncertain, which is good. A more prudent question may be to whom do the Exal
ted belong? What do they seek?” Jerem clasped his skeletal hands behind his back. “You are being sent to kill a man who might be able to save us. Why? All for the sake of what the Exalted crave. Immortality. Power. Whatever they cannot have no one else should possess, or so they believe. Ryne has the keys to those two things they covet. They fear him. They fear what his coming means, what the presence of a netherling signifies, who he may pass his power to.”
“I’m being sent to kill a man who destroyed countless lives.” Irmina scowled. “What would you rather me do? He must pay for his atrocities.”
“So you are a magister and executioner.” He paused. “Ah, but you are a Raijin now, that’s your job. However, do not forget you are also my student. What do you know of their plan?”
She looked at the floor. Silence stretched between them. Finally, she let out a deep breath and said, “They’re going to attack Eldanhill. That’s when I’ll have my chance.”
“Hmm. You are actually considering the act because it gives you a chance to strike at the Dorns as well as Ryne.” Jerem nodded in quiet contemplation. “All that drives you lies at your finger tips, at the edge of your blade.”
Irmina squared her shoulders and met his gaze. “They deserve what they have coming to them. What do you expect me to do? Not take revenge on those responsible for my family’s murders? Not take from Ryne what he took from so many? I gave up the chance for the sake of the future once. Now, we’re safe. I don’t care what he’s done recently. The man is evil. He-” She cut off as something from Jerem’s earlier words came back to her. “What did you mean by a man who might be able to save us? He already did.”
Jerem gazed out the window. “So you believe, as simple as a snap of fingers, the shade has been conquered. That which has lingered since the beginning of the world.” He shook his head. “You of all people should know things are never what they seem when it comes to the Tribunal.”
“I saw him defeat them with my own eyes. The man unleashed gigantic spirits that swept across Castere, destroying the shade and Voliny.”
“And this Voliny’s master? Did he defeat him too?”
“No, but with his armies gone, he’ll surely fall.”
That wispy white eyebrow rose. “Really? So a man or creature that this Ryne, who may indeed be a descendant of the Eztezians, could not defeat, will be beaten by us? A being who may be one of Amuni’s Skadwaz somehow here from Hydae? I taught you well, but in this one thing you allow your emotions to control your thoughts. Think. Sakari was a netherling. His presence here proves that not only have the seals on the Nether weakened, but so have the wards on the Kassite preventing man or beast from travelling between realms.”
Irmina hung her head. She hadn’t thought about all this. Her fists made an involuntary clench. All she wanted to do was avenge her family. Why was it proving so difficult?
Jerem’s berating continued. “Next, you will tell me we will defeat the gods when all the seals are broken and they come to claim what was once theirs.”
Shoulders sagging bonelessly, she looked up. “What do I do? If all this is going to happen, what can any of us do?”
A twinkle played across Jerem’s eyes. “You are a Raijin now. You will figure it out.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Have faith, I did say I taught you well. You have a mission to complete, and I need to leave this place before the Exalted send for me. I am sure they will follow the recommendations you made.”
Irmina’s eyes bulged. “I–I-I didn’t mean …”
“It is fine, my dear girl. You did what I expected. You had to pass your final test or else all I have put you through, all your training, would be for nothing.”
“Do you intend to try stop me?”
“Try?” Jerem gave her a bemused smile. “Nothing I do is try.”
For a moment, she tensed. If she must, she would find some way to defeat the old man, High Ashishin or not.
Jerem’s brow quirked once more. “To answer your question, I will do whatever is necessary for Denestia to survive another day.” Jerem held her gaze, eyes unwavering.
“What if that means killing me?”
Almost instantly, his face became blank.
The expression sent chills through her body. She used to think she could be cold-hearted, but those sudden dead eyes of Jerem’s, eyes that normally showed some kind of amusement, making him seem overly good-natured as if he found much in life comical, brought tiny bumps rising along her skin.
“Come, it is past time we leave.” Jerem spun and strode toward the thick oak door.
Irmina gazed at the crimson robes of her teacher’s back for a moment before turning her attention out the window. “Dear Ilumni,” she prayed, head bowed. “Please show me what I need to do.”
A sudden sense of inertia swept through her for a moment, and she reached a hand out to steady herself against the windowsill. A picture of Ancel bloomed in her mind along with the thousands upon thousands of pinpoints representing people drawn together in an intricate and incredibly powerful Forging. The image from the night when she killed Sakari. Why would that come to her now?
Frowning and thinking she needed rest after rushing across Ostania in chase of Ryne and then making her way to Jerem with few breaks in between, she straightened her clothes and followed her mentor.
Chapter 9
Nose upturned at the stench wafting from the giant, Shin Galiana inspected his body where he lay with his thighs hanging off the examination table. The artwork covering his body and armor bore an uncanny resemblance to those on Ancel, but even more detailed. Placing a hand on his chest served to remind her just how small she was compared to the man. No, small would be an understatement. Tiny was more apt.
The flesh appeared to have closed around the arrow, but without removing his armor, she was uncertain. The man also suffered from a severe case of frostbite concentrated in areas not covered by his tattoos.
Etchings, she reminded herself.
The word and the man’s size made her think not only of Ancel but also of her past. They both dredged up memories she thought she’d permanently buried. Painful ones. She eased her eyes closed, and told herself the woman she used to be no longer existed. The man she once loved was long gone, sacrificing himself for the greater good. Maybe a time would come for her to revisit those recollections, live that old hurt, and with it, revive her hope, but for now, she needed to concentrate on Ancel and his mentor.
The young man was concerned for the stranger’s well being. She sympathized. After all, despite the rigorous Mater training she was putting him through, coupled with the advanced sword work lessons given by Stefan, neither of them were able to teach him about the strange phenomenon etched into his skin. The artwork appeared innocent enough if a bit ominous in some places, but a netherling had bestowed them. She shook her head. A creature linked to the creation of the world itself. If she were any other person, she would have found the idea unbelievable.
Those old memories bubbled to the surface again as she recalled Etchings from other times in her life: from a Svenzar back when Nerian became the Shadowbearer, and even before that, when-. She forced the thought from her mind. As she’d done for innumerable years, she would act as if she had no knowledge of the events she did. In many respects, it was the only way to maintain her sanity.
At present, Ancel and his father waited outside the room. When she left, he’d been pacing anxiously. She smiled. Several months ago, she doubted if he would ever be like he once was, devouring his classes with fervor. But the combination of being hunted by the shade, the attack on Eldanhill, and his mother’s taking had changed him as drastically as Irmina abandoning his love. Unlike the pain wrought by Irmina’s loss, most of what he’d become was positive. He was once more dedicated to learning, following instructions in his classes, showing the ability to understand tiny nuances of Forging, and deciphering aspects of the lessons without detailed explanations. His skill with Forging had increased exponentiall
y as had his swordsmanship. Ancel worked tirelessly at both, from the time the classes at the Mystera began in the morning until night. He never complained.
The smile dissolved into a frown as she considered his other side. A darker side. For a while, he’d used the emotions to spur him on and help hunt down the remaining shadelings in Whitewater Falls. Once that threat had been removed, however, he continued to venture into the forests and the mountains, often hunting animals. She recognized the craving at once. A need not just to lash out in anger, but to kill. Had he ever Forged when not within the control of the Eye? Had the essences within Mater already took their toll on him and began a chain of events from which there may be no return? Would Pathfinders arrive in Eldanhill to attempt to take him? At some point, she needed to be certain if the boy had surrendered to the promise of power only the strongest Matii heard. The chance of survival, if he had any, came down to avoiding the Tribunal and the Pathfinders. A daunting, near impossible task.
Shin Galiana chased the thoughts away and focused on the giant. First things first, she must help the boy obtain the necessary training. If what he said was true, before her lay the answers to the Etchings.
The giant’s own ended at his neck. She squinted as she studied his features. Something about him seemed familiar, but try as she might, she couldn’t place it. Where have I seen you before? She paced around him, taking in every nuance of his face, from the ragged scars running down the left side, to the angular jaw and squared chin hidden beneath mounds of facial hair, to the length of his unkempt locks spilling down his back. Whatever it was, something under his wild countenance tried to tickle a memory. After a few minutes straining for a recollection, she gave up and got on with the mending.
The man still clutched his massive greatsword, so she started there. The torches in their sconces on the wall and the candles around the room reflected from the weapon’s polished surface, highlighting the runes and glyphs. Only one type of metal carried such a high sheen. Silversteel. Imbued no doubt. A divya. She considered Forging to find out exactly what kind but quickly chided herself for almost making a grievous error. There could be some kind of trap or ward worked into the weapon that would trigger when touched by any Forge other than its owner.
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