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October 22 - October 27, 2024
That’s one of the reasons Taeris wants me to get my memory back—so I can understand those abilities, use them against the Blind.” He hesitated. “He thinks I may be an Augur.”
Davian gave her a grateful smile in return. The girl was striking, with long legs and green eyes that shone in the firelight. For a second she seemed almost familiar…though he couldn’t say of whom she reminded him.
“Hopefully,” agreed the girl with an easy smile, amusement dancing in her eyes. “I’m Ishelle. You can call me Shel.” “Nice to meet you, Shel. I’m Davin. Davian.” Davian shook his head, flushing as he corrected himself. His mind was sluggish. Ishelle’s smile changed, and she looked…sad. “You don’t remember me, do you?” Davian
The Shackle was just a layer of kan, containing Essence within the body. Of course. He pushed at the metal on his arm with kan for a few moments, experimenting. The Shackle suddenly retracted, falling to the floor with a clatter.
Driscin waved his hand dismissively. “We’ll get to that later,” he said. “Suffice it to say, we know who you are, Davian.” Davian leaned forward. “And who is ‘we’?” He focused on the strange man. He’d know if they lied to him, at least, even if they tried to mask it. “The sig’nari. You might know of us as the Prefects,” replied Driscin. “We serve the Augurs, are their eyes and ears, carry out their wishes. And search out new Augurs, when they appear.”
“At the beginning of the Unseen War, we went into hiding,” continued Driscin. “But we kept watch. We waited. When one Augur dies, another is born within a few years; that is the cycle. So we knew that on that night, when the war began, new Augurs would soon be brought into the world. We have been vigilant ever since.”
Davian stared at the young woman. “I remember you,” he said suddenly, eyes widening. “The girl from the market. I bumped into you, knocked you over.” Ishelle smiled, and Davian sighed. “Or so it seemed.” Ishelle leaned forward. “I tracked you all the
The man’s armor was shaded so that it had a dark aspect to it, but the headpiece was what caught Davian’s eye. There were no gaps for eyes, and over the face a sole symbol was inscribed. Three S lines, drawn vertically, and circled.
Much was his immortality discussed. Steel could not pierce his skin; fire did not burn him, and his bones did not break. No one knew the source of his longevity, but of all the mages in the Shining Lands, he was the most powerful.
“I’ll explain in a moment, but first I need to know something. When was the first time you saw me?”
Taeris blinked, surprised by the question. “The day you were attacked, of course,” he said, looking puzzled. “Why do you ask?” Davian stiffened. It was faint, but it was there—pain in his temples. Taeris was lying, and trying to mask it.
“I see.” He was silent for a moment, trying to contain his suddenly roiling emotions. “Tell me…did you plan it? When I got this.” He raised his head, pointing to his scar. “Did you get those men to rough me up so that I would get scared, be forced to find my powers? Was it all a plan that went horribly wrong? Is that why you saved me?” Taeris paled. “Of course not,” he said hurriedly. “Who has been telling you this? I’d never…” He trailed off as he saw Davian’s expression. Once again, that faint but insistent throbbing. Another lie. Davian couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t...
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It was time to get some answers from Ilseth Tenvar.
“Now,” said Asha, trying to keep her voice from shaking, “I would like to talk to the real Shadraehin, please. There’s something I need to discuss with her.”
“You knew Shadows could use Vessels. You knew I’d bring you this deal.” Asha thought back to what Teran had said, about his having to spy on her even if the Blind were at the gates. His instructions not to touch her, even if she didn’t deliver on her agreement. She looked the Shadraehin in the eye. “It doesn’t change anything, you have my word—but tell me the truth. Did you know this would happen when you sent the Northwarden to me?”
“An Augur? No.” The Shadraehin sounded amused. “I’ll tell you how I knew, if you’re willing to tell me how you knew Scyner was not in charge. Or how you found out that I am a woman.” “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
“One last thing,” said Asha as she stood, too. “I have a message for you, though I don’t really understand it. A gift from someone called Davian.” The Shadraehin smiled. “A gift from someone I do not know?” Asha ignored the other woman’s amusement. “The message is that Tal’kamar is going to take Licanius to the Wells.” The Shadraehin froze. For a fraction of a second she looked both excited and terrified, though the expression was quickly smoothed over, replaced by one of intense curiosity. She stared into Asha’s eyes for a long moment, eyes focused. “You are certain that was the message?”
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Why had Tenvar given him the Vessel, sent him away before the slaughter of everyone else in the school? He located the memory he was after, then took a deep breath.
The message had been written in an ancient Darecian dialect; there were only four or five people in Andarra who still knew that language, so a ruse was unlikely.
“I would not refuse a summons from the master we serve,” said Davian. The man had to be using kan to manipulate Essence, illuminating the room but keeping himself in darkness. Not a trap, then—something more terrifying by far, in fact, though Davian could not fathom how one of them could be on this side of the Boundary. They weren’t a myth, then. This was one of the Venerate.
“It would be an honor to serve Lord Devaed in any task,” he said, almost tripping over the words in his haste to respond. The Venerate were not to be trifled with, but the question burned within him—he hesitated a second longer, swallowing hard, working up the courage to continue. “Before we proceed…if I may ask…why now? I mean no disrespect, but what could be worth risking my place here, so close to the end?” He had worked too hard, sacrificed too much, not to know.
“Now. We received your message. You think the escherii’s attacks have finally borne fruit—that the heir is hiding in Caladel?”
“There is a boy in the school at Caladel called Davian. He is an Augur—barely aware of his abilities; however, he knows how to discern deception. You know how to counter that?”
Davian coughed. “My lord, if there were something more specific, perhaps it would be easier to…” He trailed off, realizing what he was saying. “As our master wishes. What of the heir?” “He dies, as planned. Along with the rest,” said the man. “No survivors, no one to confirm that Davian is missing. Understand: this is even more important than killing Torin Andras. Davian must deliver the box at all costs.”
The man paused. “It will ensure our master’s return from his exile in Talan Gol. It will ensure our victory, Tenvar.” He leaned forward.
Then he froze. “We need to leave,” he said to Nashrel suddenly. The Elder grunted. “You certainly do. Because I warned you what would happen if you used that knife.” “No.” Davian looked at him, urgent. “There’s something you need to know. We need to get to wherever you store your Vessels.” Davian’s heart pounded as he explained. Whatever else happened, whether he was an enemy or just a pawn in all that was happening, Caeden needed to be kept far, far away from that box.
“Caeden,” said Taeris in half-irritated relief when he got a little closer. His eyes widened as he recognized Caeden’s companion, and his demeanor transformed. He gave a low bow. “Your Highness. I…I’m afraid I will need to borrow Caeden for a while.” Kara nodded slowly. “That is fine, Taeris,” she said,
Caeden barely heard, even his shocked delight at seeing Davian alive registering as only a minor distraction. Somehow he knew that the vortex was meant for him. He was supposed to step into it. It would take him…he wasn’t sure where, but it was somewhere he wanted to go. Somewhere he needed to go. He shook his head.
She looked over toward the edge of the Shield, now able to see the black-armored men as they scrambled over the parapet. She shivered as she took in the unsettling, eyeless helmets—and then her stomach churned as she recognized the design etched onto the front of them. It was the symbol she’d seen on the side of Davian’s neck, that night he had appeared in her room. The one that had been cut into his skin.
“No. I’ve seen this before.” He turned to Parathe. “They’re called Echoes, General. I don’t know a lot about it, but the Blind are controlling them, somehow.”
“They’re dead,” he repeated grimly in response to the surprised look of the others. “Or at least no longer human. I wouldn’t have been able to do that otherwise.”
“But you must not,” he murmured. “We’ve been tricked, Torin. They’ll be coming through Fedris Idri. We need the Gifted to fight, else we all die, not just me.” “But—” “Promise me, Torin.” Elocien’s grip began to weaken, but his tone was edged with urgency. “I’m starting to lose focus; if I get confused, I need you to know that this is what I want. Changing the Tenets is all that matters now. I need you to swear to me that you will let me go.” Wirr stared at him for a long moment, then sat back, letting his shoulders slump. The tears ran freely down his face now. “I promise.”
“Torin?” he whispered. “What is happening?” Wirr paused uncertainly, then swallowed a lump in his throat. The loss of blood was starting to disorient his father. “You were stabbed,” said Wirr, keeping his tone as gentle as he could. “You saved me.” Elocien groaned. “You’re older. I don’t understand.” Wirr held his father’s hand tight. Elocien was fading fast. “Everything’s all right. I’ll be here until the end.” Elocien shook his head in desperation. “No. I don’t want to die. Help me.” He grabbed Wirr by the shirt, pulling him close so that all Wirr could see was the fear in his eyes. “Help
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No hint as to why he had Seen Elocien’s death as if it had been his own. She was fairly certain that was what had happened; the description fit, and Hael’s death meant that the man wouldn’t be stabbing Erran anytime soon. As to what that implied…a theory had begun to form as she’d made her way back to the palace, and it was one that made an increasing amount of sense the more she thought about it. She just desperately hoped it was wrong. “Asha!” Asha looked over her shoulder to see Kol
Kol frowned. “Why do you say that?” “He foresaw it.” Asha hesitated. “He needs our help.” Fessi and Kol glanced at each other. “There’s a Lockroom a few corridors over. It’s Erran’s favorite. He goes there to be alone, sometimes,” said Fessi. Asha nodded. “Lead the way.”
“There were going to be others.” Kol sat heavily as what Erran was saying sunk in. “You’ve been Controlling Elocien?”
There was silence for a long few moments as they all tried to process what Erran had told them. “He really murdered the other Augurs he found?” asked Fessi, distress evident in her tone. Erran gave her a sad nod. “Four of them. One was eight years old.” The blood drained from Fessi’s face, and she looked away. “Then…you did the right thing, Erran. I wish you’d told us, but…you did the right thing,” she said softly.
“Elocien was killed, Kol. About an hour or so ago,” said Asha gently. Kol looked at her, shocked, and he took a moment to respond. “What happened?”
“He said it was because Aarkein Devaed wanted you alive,” said Scyner. “You’ve been marked by him, and none of his creatures can touch you.” He stared at her for a long moment. “I wonder why that is.” Asha felt the blood drain from her face. It couldn’t be true, and yet…there was something about Scyner’s tone. An arrogance that said he wouldn’t bother telling her a lie.
In the corner Fessi was stirring. She raised her head groggily. “What…” She saw Kol and gave a cry of dismay. She was kneeling beside him in an instant. Kol looked up at his friends, eyes tight with pain. “He was an Augur,” he coughed, body spasming. “An El-cursed prewar Augur.”
“Erran,” she said quietly. “What Scyner said…” Erran took a deep breath, then straightened. “It’s possible, I suppose,” he admitted. “I’ve considered it before—a few times—but the physical symptoms just don’t make sense. I tried to check a couple of times anyway, but…” He grimaced, giving a reluctant nod. “Being connected to Elocien all the time did make sensing kan harder. I might have missed something.” Asha bit her lip. “Then we need to speak to someone about this. Even if we do discover the king is being Controlled, we can’t exactly march in there and tell people to stop listening to him.
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Then he knew why he recognized them. Digging into his pocket, he drew out the bronze Vessel that had brought him here, holding it up so that the light from the red river below illuminated it. He smiled in triumph. The writing wasn’t identical, but…there could be no doubt. The inscriptions on the box were in the same language as the markings around the tunnel entrance.
“I…I’m sorry,” stuttered Caeden, taking a step back. “I didn’t mean to.” “Of course you did.” The luminescent man began to pace, circling Caeden. His body language gave nothing away, but his eyes held an intense curiosity. “You have come for Licanius, as you always do.
The question is, how did you get in this time? Did the Traveler bring you? Did the Keeper take pity on you? Or perhaps you finally plucked up the courage to return to the Plains of Decay and use one of the Columns?”
“Another body again, I see. Which poor soul did you take it from this time? Did you really think it would fool us? Fool me? No. No, such a poor deception is beyond you, I t...
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“I am Garadis ru Dagen, and I know you, Tal’kamar, no matter what you do to your face. Of all of them, you are the only one who ever gets this close. And yet none of you can take her. That law is immutable.”
“Even so—his Law is clear. He who comes to take Licanius shall be refused her. And you are not here to take Licanius. You are here to find out who you are, and how you might help your friends.” He stared at Caeden with what appeared to be fascination.
The sword atop the pillar, on the other hand… “That’s Licanius, isn’t it?” he said. “Yes.” “Will my having it make a difference? Will I be able to help my friends?”
“Of course,” said Garadis softly. The glowing man stared into Caeden’s eyes, then stepped to one side, allowing him a straight path to the sword. “For the first time in five hundred years, you have passed the Tests. As Guardian, I have read your mind and find no thoughts or memories that should cause me to deny you Licanius. She is yours.”
Garadis stared at him, expressionless. “Where to begin? You are Tal’kamar, though precious few know you as such. You destroyed Saran’geth for an ideal. You butchered the Arathi for revenge. You created the Plains of Decay for the love of a woman long dead.”
