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October 22 - October 27, 2024
“I know the truth,”
“You do not know what truth is anymore. He was one man, Tal’kamar. He lied; you said it yourself. You slew him for his falsehood. You took his head and set it on a pike. You placed it at the Door of Iladriel as a reminder, for all to see! Do you not remember?” The shadow stopped, watching Tal. Waiting.
slowly, “but I was mistaken. I followed the path he set me upon. I found proof.” He paused, his voice stronger now. “I went to Res Kartha. I asked the Lyth.” Stronger again. “I went to the Wells of Mor Aruil and spoke with the Keeper. I found Nethgalla at the Crossroads and tortured her until she told me all she knew.” Now he shouted, the rage of so many years finally released, a mighty roar that seemed to echo across all of Talan Gol and beyond. “I went deep beneath the mountains, beneath Ilin Tora itself. I found the Mirrors. I gazed into them and found one thing!” He stopped, panting, face
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“You are wrong. This time I go where Aarkein Devaed cannot follow,” he said softly.
“The Waters of Renewal,” it hissed. Its screams filled the world.
“Maybe they’re not all like that,” he pointed out, trying not to sound argumentative. “Most are only Shadows because they weren’t strong enough to pass their Trials—they didn’t actually do anything wrong. It’s just that the Tols won’t let them stay on as Gifted, and the Treaty doesn’t allow them to go anywhere else until their ability is completely blocked. They’re just…unlucky.”
Davian acknowledged the statement with another nod. Originally there had been five Tols—five different strongholds of the Gifted, each teaching different philosophies and skills in their various schools, filling specific roles for the Augur leadership. The sieges had marked the beginning of the war; three of the Tols, along with every school in Andarra, had been wiped out within months. Only Tol Athian, under whose governance his own school fell, and Tol Shen had endured until the end.
“Did you ever meet the Augurs? Before it all started, I mean?” Ilseth shook his head. “I worked at the palace, so they were around, but I never met any personally. I wasn’t much past a student myself, back then.” “But you saw them use their powers?” Davian tried to keep his tone casual.
“So…they didn’t use Essence to Read people?” “No. Of course not.”
Essence can only affect things physically—pick things up or break them apart. Pull, push. Harm or heal. How could it possibly be used to read someone’s mind?”
“They’re fools, then,” said the older man, and Davian realized he was talking about the Elders. “I don’t care what the Treaty says. The Loyalists burned half our knowledge when they destroyed Tol Thane.
emotion, “but I am sorry. They refused.” Though Davian had been expecting it, the news still felt like a punch to the stomach. “Thank you for trying,” he said, doing his best to sound calm. Talean inclined his head. “El be with you tomorrow,” he said, a hint of sadness in his tone. Davian blinked; he’d never heard an Administrator invoke the Old Religion before.
“Before we begin,” he said, tone grave, “you need to know that I am sorry to put this burden on you.” He scratched his beard, then took a deep breath. “There is no easy way to say this. I know you’re an Augur, Davian.” He paused for a moment to let that sink
sort through a wild tangle of emotions. Finally he took a deep, steadying breath, squaring his shoulders. There had been no black smoke from Ilseth’s mouth. The Elder was telling the truth—he wasn’t going to turn him in. “It…might be,” he admitted reluctantly. “I’ve never had visions of the future, if that’s what you mean. But I’ve always been able to tell when someone is lying to me…it could be a form of Reading, I suppose. I’ve never really been sure.” He frowned. “How did you know?”
“Our meeting in town today was no accident. I came looking for you,” the Elder admitted. He hesitated. “What do you know of the Boundary?”
He rubbed his forehead, trying to remember. “It’s from the time of the Eternity War, I think. From the golden age of the Gifted. So it was created…a thousand years ago? Two?”
burnished surface seeming to glow in the dim light. “And do you know why it was built? How it came into being?” “Only what the stories from the Old Religion say.” Davian scratched his head, trying to recall what little he’d been taught of the Eternity War, drowsiness still slowing his mental processes a little. “It was to seal off Aarkein Devaed and his creatures…to trap him before he completed his invasion. Before he wiped out everyone in Andarra, if you believe that sort of thing.” “That’s right.” Ilseth’s tone was serious. “It’s not a myth, though. Devaed was very much real—not the
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“Yes,” said Ilseth with a visible flash of relief. He obviously hadn’t been certain that Davian would go. “I was told only that you need to head northward for as long as it takes, and that you will know exactly where to go when the time comes.” He spread his hands in an apologetic gesture. “I hate to be so cryptic, but that is all the information I have.”
I’m sorry to leave you like this. Truly.” Wirr considered his friend, looking conflicted. Then he straightened. “I’m going with you.”
“So. This is the last time we’ll be here,” Wirr said softly. Davian nodded; he felt it, too. Regardless of how their journey went, he did not expect to see the school again. “It’s not too late for you to turn back,” he observed. The corners of Wirr’s mouth curled upward. “You won’t get rid of me that easily.”
Neither looked back.
The Elders exchanged meaningful glances. “She’s the first one, Ilseth,” said the woman.
Elder Olin, Davian and I have had to leave at short notice, on a matter of some importance, and one I believe needs my oversight. Send no one after us—Davian is under my protection. Please tell my father that if we are caught, I will use the name I used here. He can retrieve us both at his earliest convenience, and I will explain matters to him then. Torin
“Becoming a Shadow is not so bad,” Ilseth said quietly. “It is quick, and you won’t remember the pain. In fact, you won’t remember anything since you woke up this morning. Almost a blessing, given what you’ve seen today.” He stared into her eyes. “Regardless, I can’t risk anyone realizing that Davian got away. I would ask you whether he foresaw what I was planning, or whether he saved your friend through sheer dumb luck—but I doubt you know. And if you don’t know about that, I doubt you understand why the escherii spared you, either. But still…if it saw fit to let you live, then I suppose I
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frowned. “Into Desriel?” He began chewing at a fingernail, a sure sign he was nervous. “You do know that any Gifted that the Gil’shar capture are executed as heretics, don’t you?” Davian nodded. He’d read about the Gil’shar: part government, part religious body, they had absolute authority in Desriel. “I think they call us abominations rather than heretics, actually. They say only the gods are supposed to wield the Gift,” he said absently.
“He always said you were the sensible one, too,” pointed out Wirr, his tone dry. He thought for a moment. “The bridge over the Devliss is like a fortress; people get stopped and checked with Finders on both shores, even on a night as busy as tonight. Not to mention that this makeup on our arms won’t stand up to close inspection—we wouldn’t even make it past the Administrators on this side. So the first thing will be to find another way across the river.” Davian raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been here before?”
Red flag
Wirr was silent for a few moments, then nodded. “I have. Briefly. Let’s leave it at that.” Davian
“She’s working for the Gil’shar? On Andarran soil?” Wirr’s tone was dark. “I thought they were steering clear of that sort of thing.” Anaar’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh, they are, of course—officially,” he said with amusement. He looked at Wirr consideringly. “But Breshada and her ilk don’t have much opposition here. Half of Talmiel is full of Loyalists, the other half Administrators. It’s basically a province of Desriel.”
“And who in fates is Tal’kamar?” Davian shook his head, grunting as it exacerbated the pounding inside his skull. “No idea. But I think we owe him a drink if we ever meet him.” “I won’t argue with that.” Wirr glanced down at the two corpses lying on their floor, his brief smile fading and his tone sobering, as if what had just transpired was finally sinking in. “I won’t argue with that at all.”
rippling through his body and coalescing in his palm before draining away—straight into Anaar. Davian pulled his hand back sharply, fingertips tingling. Anaar gave him a confused look, then shook his head as if to clear it. The smuggler turned away, and Davian released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Whatever had just happened—if something had just happened, and it hadn’t been Davian’s imagination—Anaar was unaware of it.
shook his head. “I don’t know. I think I did something to him. Maybe made him forget, somehow.” Wirr raised an eyebrow. “I see.” From his tone he clearly didn’t. Davian scrunched up his face, trying to think of how best to explain. “It felt a little like when I see someone lying.”
She was a Shadow now, a broken Gifted. A rare, harmless, ugly curiosity.
Ilseth turned to Asha, gesturing for her to dismount. “Welcome to Tol Athian, Ashalia,” he said quietly.
Nashrel nodded. “Of course,” he said, though from his tone he was still clearly displeased. “So. You were unable to find him?” “That’s correct,” confirmed Ilseth, casting an uncertain glance in Asha’s direction. She immediately got the impression that this was not a conversation meant for her ears.
We have a Trace.” Ilseth’s attention snapped back to the Council members. “A Trace? Surely it would be wiser to—” “It is already done, Ilseth.” Nashrel waved away Ilseth’s obvious alarm. “No need for concern. They have been instructed not to harm anyone.”
Ilseth continued, “You told me that before running into us, you had gone to your friend’s room, to see if he was alive. A boy who lived in the North Tower.” Asha’s blood went cold. The Elders had been avoiding telling her what had happened, and this was why. Before Ilseth spoke again, she knew what he was going to say. “He had died, Ashalia,” said Ilseth softly. “He had died just like the others, and you couldn’t take the memory of seeing it. You…went wild, when I refused to help. You attacked me.” He rolled up his sleeve, revealing a half-healed burn. “I felt the blast,” confirmed Kasperan.
A part of her still wanted to protest, to say that she would never have asked to be a Shadow, would never have done the things Ilseth was saying.
She scowled as Ilseth Tenvar walked in. “What do you want?” she snapped. The Elder held up his hands. “I have come to apologize.”
All that I wanted, I received All that I dreamed, I achieved All that I feared, I conquered All that I hated, I destroyed All that I loved, I saved And so I lay down my head, weary with despair For all that I needed, I lost.
“Because your presence marks the beginning. It means death is coming, for all of us. It has been Seen,” said the man quietly. Asha swallowed. “What…what do you mean, ‘all of us’?” “For myself, and my siblings. Four hunt. One hides, cognizant of what he is. A true traitor. An escherii.” The man gazed at her. “And I Watch.” Suddenly shouts echoed from outside, and the hooded figure rose.
“I must go.” He leaned forward. “I ask only one thing of you. When the time comes, do not let Vhalire suffer.” Before Asha could respond, he was gliding out the door. Once she was certain she was alone, the crushing fear that
Abruptly Wirr cleared his throat. “I meant it, you know,” he said hesitantly. “I really am sorry.” “I know, Wirr,” said Davian. “It’s all right.”
“What is it?” Wirr asked. Davian bit his lip. “It’s pointing back the other way.” “Towards the soldiers?” Davian hesitated, then nodded. “Towards the soldiers.” Wirr let out a low string of violent curses that Davian had never heard him use before. Then he took a few deep breaths to compose himself. “Of course it is,” he said calmly.
shifted and he realized that the prisoner was awake, watching him. Davian crawled toward them. “I’m here to help,” he whispered. “Ilseth Tenvar sent me.” There was a long silence, and then the figure shifted again.
Then it moved. It glided rather than walked forward. Davian’s blood froze; it made no sound but it had a sinuous menace, imparting a sense of heavy danger that made his legs feel like lead. The soldiers sensed it, too, turning away from the boys. Davian couldn’t see their faces, but their sharply drawn breaths were audible even from this distance.
It hit the creature squarely in the chest, and for the briefest of moments its face was illuminated. Its features were humanlike, but twisted almost beyond recognition. Its skin was bruised and sagging, its lips white and horribly scarred. Its eyes were recognizable, though. They were wide with what was very clearly surprise.
Wirr shook his head. “There’s no time.” He rubbed his forehead. “Though it means that when they find the bodies, they’ll think we did this.” Davian shrugged. “It’s not like they can execute us more.” Wirr gave a slightly hysterical giggle at that, and suddenly they were both snorting with fits of nervous laughter, relief and shock finally finding an outlet. They were still chuckling when, from the darkness behind them, there was yet another flash of light.
The man raised an eyebrow, looking more amused than annoyed. “My name is Scyner, but everyone here calls me the Shadraehin. I suppose you could say I’m in charge of the Sanctuary. I’m the one whose responsibility it is to keep the people here safe.” He paused, leaning forward, and suddenly his eyes were hard. “And when someone comes into the Sanctuary and lies about their name, it raises questions about their trustworthiness. Ashalia.”
“I was the only survivor,” she said quietly, seeing no advantage to concealing the truth. “I don’t know anything about what happened, but the Council thought I might be important somehow. They hid me in the Tol and asked me to lie about my name, to make sure Administration couldn’t find me.” She looked Scyner in the eye. “I didn’t mean you or your people any harm.”
First, though, I would very much like to hear what happened with Aelrith.” “That’s…the Watcher? The man who…?” Asha trailed off. “Yes,” said the Shadraehin.
