Flame's Shadow

by Anna Eluvae

  A short man with red hair and a bright green apron came into the small cabin, which really wasn't suited for three people to stand around in, and clucked his tongue. He carried a leather bag filled with metal instruments, gauze, and small bottles. Dravus had followed the stories of the illustrati well enough to recognize him too; he was a doctor by the name of Gael Mottram. He only had the one name - Red Angel. He had a dark history, though the stories were vague about what it was he had done, and when they weren't vague, they seemed too disturbing to believe. Experiments, they said. He was another living legend, a man who could kill with a touch. His domain was flesh. Dravus took an involuntary step backward.

  "I came as soon as I got Nemm's message," said Gael. He laid a hand on Lexari. "It's bad." He turned to Nemm and Dravus. "Out, while I deal with my patient."

  "Wait," said Lexari. "There are things I need to speak of with my young protege."

  "I'm not -" began Nemm.

  "Dravus de Luca saved my life," said Lexari. Gael and Nemm turned and looked at Dravus. "He is to be given our full resources, and a place on the ship, not as crew, but as one of us. We're elevating him."

  Gael muttered under his breath and began tending to Lexari. Dravus's eyes went wide when Gael used his power on Lexari's ruined hand. The bloody flesh folded in on itself and twisted around exposed bone, then slid back over it. Shattered pieces of bone fell onto the bloodstained bed. Lexari cried out in pain and hissed through his teeth. There was an angry red line where the sword had cut through his hand, but the bleeding at least had stopped. Gael began unstrapping Lexari's armor without much comment. Nemm had turned away as soon as Gael had made his move, and she was staring at Dravus rather than looking at the triage.

  "Does he have any standing?" asked Nemm.

  "He will," said Lexari. He was sweating, and his voice didn't quite reach the casual calm that he clearly intended.

  "Does he have a useful domain?" asked Nemm.

  "I have no idea," said Lexari.

  "It's shadow," said Dravus.

  The room was silent for a few moments, and then Lexari began to laugh. "Shadow and light, a story for the ages!" he said. His voice was weak, but he was smiling.

  "You've lost a lot of blood," said Gael. He turned to the others. "We can talk about these developments later. The flesh is all healed, but I count ten broken bones, maybe eleven, and he's low on blood. He won't get any rest unless I put him out. He can't help but push himself."

  Nemm pushed past Dravus, and he followed her as she went down the corridor and into a different, smaller room near the middle of the ship. She folded a seat down from the wall for him, and sat cross-legged on her bed. All around the room was glass - small figurines which sat on top of the shelves, long cylinders of glass that were held in place by leather straps, and a jar of glass marbles tucked beneath the bed.

  "Dravus de Luca," said Nemm, like she was feeling the name with her mouth. "Tell me what happened."

  "There was a fight," Dravus said. He'd heard the stories about Nemm and what she could do with those daggers. He'd also heard stories about what lay beneath that glass armor. He folded his arms across his chest. "Lexari and Zerstor."

  "The story preceded you," said Nemm. "Details."

  "I don't know how or where it started, but Lexari came falling out of the sky, straight through the clouds, with his wings breaking into pieces behind him," said Dravus. "He hit the statue of Genthric. I thought he was dead. He woke up just in time for Zerstor to come bounding across the city. They talked. A few guards came, and Zerstor killed them. And then they fought. It was … tentative, then fast. Lexari was injured from the fall, or from what came before it. He- he turned into light at one point."

  "He gave himself armor of light?" asked Nemm with a raised eyebrow.

  "No," said Dravus, shaking his head and remembering being nearly blinded. "He turned into light, just for a moment. Zerstor's sword passed straight through him."

  "He can't do that," said Nemm.

  "Well, he did. Ask anyone who was there," said Dravus.

  "Within the next hour, half the city will be claiming that they were there," said Nemm. "And the people who actually were there will be saying that they had a front row seat. This is why I'm talking to you now, so I can separate truth from fiction. Continue."

  "Lexari tried to press his advantage after that." said Dravus. "But he got his hand cut off. Or, part of it anyway. You saw the result. It looked like Zerstor was going to win, he had Lexari by the throat, so … I picked up Lexari's weapon from the ground, and I killed Zerstor with it."

  Nemm stared at him. "Zerstor is dead."

  "He is," said Dravus. He had almost as much trouble believing it as she seemed to. "The spear passed through his armor, into his heart."

  "He's too fast," said Nemm. "There's no way that you would be able to hit him, let alone pierce - no, I suppose if you had Lexari's spear, if he was distracted - and of course that's why he wants you to come with us. Well. This buggers things."

  Her words were like slap to the face. "Do you understand that I saved his life?" asked Dravus.

  "I do," said Nemm. "And you're going to be elevated for it, which I'm sure wasn't under consideration at all."

  Dravus parted his mouth to respond, but only ended up frowning.

  "I don't mean to slight you," said Nemm, "But this really does bugger things. It's a counter-story that needs to find its legs. I need to get moving on this, speak with the senatori, the ship is going to have leave port tomorrow instead of two days from now because we can't have Lexari showing weakness. I'll have to inform the bards - look, are you alright with coming with us? We offer fame, fortune, and power. I would say beyond your wildest dreams, but I've seen how big dreams can be. We leave tomorrow morning, that gives you the rest of today to get ready." She watched him carefully.

  "Yes," said Dravus. The world was coming back into focus. He had a path laid out in front of him, which was more than he could say for his life as it had been an hour ago. "Of course."

  "And?" asked Nemm.

  "And?" repeated Dravus.

  "You were supposed to ask me where we're going," said Nemm, like she was talking to a child.

  "Where are we going then?" asked Dravus.

  "Torland," said Nemm. "And from there to elsewhere, part of Lexari's quest for the Numifex. We won't be back in the Sovento States for years."

  "Okay," said Dravus. She was speaking too quickly for him, and clearly impatient. It was starting to become clear that this was his life now. He would be traveling with the Sunhawk and the Queen of Glass. He was one of them now, or would be soon.

  "You're supposed to ask what the Numifex is - look, we'll do all this another time, when I have more patience and you're less awestruck, or whatever it is that's clouding your head," said Nemm. "And I do hope that this is not you at your smartest."

  "Sorry," said Dravus. "It's been a long day."

  "Is there anything I desperately need to know about you?" asked Nemm.

  "No," said Dravus, quickly enough that it almost wasn't a lie; his brain simply hadn't caught up to his mouth, and it was only after the word was out that a cascade of other thoughts came following which showed how untrue that "no" really was. Right at the top of the list was Korata. He had half a mind to ask Nemm for money, to explain that he owed a debt of four thousand capi on top of the four thousand in his account, but he could very well imagine her laughing in his face and telling him that he wasn't worth that to Lexari. He wanted her to note some falseness in his denial, to extract the information, so he would be able to lay things out for her.

  Nemm simply took him at his word though, and that was that.

  * * *

  The crowds weren't as thick when Dravus left the ship, though there were still quite a lot of people milling about. When they saw him, a ragged cheer rippled through their ranks, but it was clear that they were waiting for someone else - someone more important. He came down the plank and passed through the sailors in th
eir white uniforms, and was grateful that no one in the crowd immediately began to grab for him, as they'd done in the plaza. The fact that a few of the sailors carried swords might have had something to do with that.

  "Is it true you killed Zerstor?" asked an older man, who Dravus took for a pensioner.

  "I did," said Dravus. "It was luck more than anything." The people parted way for him, but not easily. He wasn't the man they wanted to see, but he was by far the most interesting person around.

  "What did they say in there?" asked a girl a few years younger than Dravus.

  "They just wanted to thank me," said Dravus.

  "What's your name?" asked an old woman.

  "Dravus de Luca," he replied. To his mild irritation, a few of the people had started following him, walking alongside him as he made his way to his parents' house. Afterward he planned to stop by his apartment and pack his meager possessions away, and get back to the ship before anyone could change their mind. He would be long gone by the time Korata came looking for him. "I'm Dravus Lightscour now," he said, remembering the name that Lexari had given him. Lexari had a hundred names, each of them a testament to some good deed: Whitespear, Sunhawk, Brightshield, on and on for ages. Dravus resolved that Lightscour wouldn't be the last of the names he received.

  With another two blocks and twenty questions, only the young girl was still keeping pace with him. He hadn't quite ran from anyone, but many of those who could afford to sit around the docks all day waiting for something interesting to happen were older, and not able to follow quickly. The girl dogged at his steps despite his long strides, asking more questions.

  "What do you do for a living?" she asked.

  "I'm a runner, packages for the wealthy mostly," he replied. Usually it was contraband of one kind or another, stolen goods to be sold to those who didn't inquire too deeply about their provenance, or teas and spices that hadn't passed through the customs office. Sometimes it was drugs - malum, mostly - and sometimes it was proscribed literature. Korata had fingers in many pies. Dravus wasn't supposed to look inside the packages, but he did whenever there wasn't an obvious seal on one of them. There'd been a time when he'd taken his own cut, but he'd stopped that when Santino had been caught doing the same and paid with his life.

  He glanced around as they passed through a five-way intersection. He was vaguely worried about another mob forming. Thanks to Lexari, everyone knew his name, or would soon, but practically no one knew his face. He couldn't have been seen by that many people in all, maybe more if he counted the ones that had been watching from the rooftops or leaning out their windows. Eventually he would be known like Lexari was. He was sure that when he returned to the ship in an hour's time there would be all sorts of people wanting to meet him, senatori, merchants, and everyone else. He still had time before everyone recognized him on sight. If not for the girl, he would be virtually anonymous.

  "How old are you?" the girl asked.

  "I'm seventeen," Dravus replied. "Look, do you think we might part ways here? I'm worried that you're going to call attention to me, and there are things that I need to get done in the next few hours that I don't think are going to be possible for very long."

  "Like what?" asked the girl. She continued on, right next to him, and Dravus contemplated running away from her before deciding that he had a little bit more dignity than that.

  "I need to speak with my parents," said Dravus. "And with the friends I share a room with." And after that, slink back to the ship before Korata had any chance to take his hide. He had a day though, she'd said that.

  "I can wait outside," said the girl with a smile.

  "I would really prefer to be left alone," said Dravus.

  Her smile dropped. "You're new," she said. "If you want to be an illustrati you need to have an ombra, and I'm as good as any."

  "Aren't you a little young -" Dravus began.

  "Not that kind of ombra," she said with a moue, "Like an assistant."

  "You're still a little young," he replied. They were coming up on his parents' shop, and he wanted her gone before then. "Look, if you want to help me out, then just leave me to my business. In the meantime, start telling some stories about me. Like a bard. Alright? And if I need your assistance later on, I'll come find you."

  To his surprise, the girl nodded. "You can find me near the Orrico fountain, in the small building with a blue door." She held out her hand. "Clarissa Fiscella."

  Dravus shook her hand, and then she was off like a dart. She was playing to her archetype, in the way that those who sought fame often did. He didn't need a precocious youth in his life though, and he had no intention of ever seeing her again, let alone seeking her out. He would leave Genthric tomorrow, and when he returned he would be a different person entirely. That was the opportunity that had opened up in front of him. He'd been thinking too small when he'd thought about asking Nemm for money to pay off Korata.

  His parents were bakers, and the moment he opened the front door the smell brought him back to his childhood. He had spent many early mornings working dough with his father, and many evenings cleaning the shop while his mother rang up customers. He had stolen sugar from the sack in the back with his sister, sticking a wet finger in it and sucking it clean while listening for parental footsteps. His arms and hands had suffered innumerable burns from the accursed oven. That had been his childhood, the smell of it alone was nearly enough to knock the wind from him.

  "Dravus!" called his mother when he stepped inside. It was warm in the bakery, as it always was. The rooms upstairs had never lacked for heat in the winters. "What are you doing here?"

  "It's complicated," he replied. "Is dad around?"

  "In back, I'll get him," said his mother. "We're making a cake for one of the senatori." She waved a hand towards the loaves of bread that were stacked up in baskets on the wall, with olives, cheeses, and garlic baked into the top of most of them. "Pick out a loaf to take home."

  Dravus waited, and stuck his hands in his pockets. His sister Nilda was behind the counter. She didn't say hello to him, or give him a particularly welcoming look. He nodded to her, but it was some time before she nodded back. After that, she began cleaning the counter. She was trying her best to ignore him, and so he ignored her in return. He wanted to ask where the others were, but he could make his guesses. Firmino and Marcello would be making deliveries, and Anna would be studying with whatever tutor his parents could convince to work for bread. The patterns of the family had been well-established when he left, and there was no reason to think that they had changed.

  His mother came back into the store's central area and gave Dravus a tight hug. His father came much slower, wiping his hands on his apron. He looked much older than Dravus remembered - he'd gone gray at the temples, and where he'd always been a thick man, now he had a bit of a pouch. He was sagging, in more ways than one.

  "Dravus," said his father. Dravus's mother stepped to the side, and looked back and forth between the two of them.

  "Dad," said Dravus. He felt like a child again. "Look, I had to come by here because you'll probably be getting some people that are looking for me -"

  "Are you in trouble?" his father asked with a frown.

  "There was a fight in Nuncio Plaza," said Dravus. "Lexari and Zerstor, a final confrontation." He wasn't sure how to say the next part. It still didn't feel like it had really happened.

  "Were you picking pockets?" his sister asked from behind the counter. She was scowling at him. "Nothing like a fight to distract people, isn't that right?"

  "I was just watching," said Dravus. He tried to force down his anger. "Lexari lost part of his hand, cut off by Zerstor's sword, and it looked like he was about to lose, so I stepped in and … it's probably better that you hear it from me, because you're going to hear it one way or another, but I killed Zerstor."

  His mother gasped and put her hands to her mouth, but his father said nothing, and only gave Dravus the same sort of look that he'd always had when he was going o
ver his ledger at the end of the day.

  "How?" his father asked.

  "Lexari had dropped one of his spears. I picked it up and … it was over quickly. I got him by surprise." It was a hard thing for Dravus to put into words. There hadn't been much to it. It could have been any other person in the crowd. It seems like a dozen people should have been going towards the spear the moment Zerstor's back was turned, but it had only been him. "I got lucky." The more he thought about it, the more he thought about all the ways that it could have gone wrong.

  "Gambling with your life," his father said.