And after what he’d just seen, he couldn’t blame them.
He gritted his teeth and marched on.
Chapter 34
Asha stared at the ring in the palm of her hand.
“You seem preoccupied.”
She started as Erran’s voice came from just behind her ear. She spun, flushing.
“Sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “What were you saying?”
“I was saying that ring goes with the weapons.” Erran gingerly removed the thin silver circle from her grasp. “It creates a focused burst of air.”
Asha frowned. “Doesn’t sound terribly dangerous.”
“It’s strong enough to punch through a wall,” Erran assured her.
“How do you know?”
“Best we don’t talk about that.” Erran placed the ring next to a pair of copper gauntlets on the shelf. “But it certainly doesn’t need testing. As denoted by the fact it was on the ‘weapons’ shelf.”
Asha shook her head again, flushing. “Sorry.” When Elocien had suggested that she help Erran sift through Administration’s stockpile of Vessels—to look for something that could potentially be used against the Blind—she had thought it sounded like an interesting diversion. The reality had been that though Erran needed someone on hand in case he injured himself testing a new device, there wasn’t a lot she could do to assist him otherwise. Even watching the process was relatively dull; Erran was always cautious and only ever fed a trickle of Essence into each device, often with no result. With little else to keep her occupied, her thoughts kept drifting.
It had been a week since the Shadraehin’s grisly gift had been delivered, and as her residual fears after the kidnapping had gradually eased, her focus had more and more turned back to Davian. His appearance in her room seemed an age earlier now, and sometimes she doubted her memory of the event. Even so, when she thought about it—really thought about it—she knew she hadn’t been dreaming.
“It’s all right.” Erran gave her a quizzical look. “Is… something wrong? You’ve been awfully quiet this morning.”
“No. I’m fine.”
“Well… best you pay attention, if you can. We’re not filing books here. Some of these things really could be useful, and I’d hate to miss something.”
“Sorry,” Asha repeated, more contritely this time. Erran was right. She needed to concentrate.
She wandered over to an unsorted shelf, picking up an abstract symbol carved from some sort of blue-green rock. “How much chance do you think we have of finding something we can use?”
“Almost none,” replied Erran cheerfully. “I’ve done this a few times now. The Veils are the most useful thing we’ve found by a long way, and that was more than a year ago now.” He shrugged. “It’s just a slow process. I’m not supposed to put too much Essence into any one Vessel—safety reasons, aside from not wanting to get a Mark or set off any Finders—so most of the time, testing does nothing. As you’ve no doubt concluded,” he added with a wry grin.
Asha gave him an absent nod in response, suddenly noticing a pile of small black discs heaped on another shelf of sorted Vessels. She knew what they were—had witnessed enough people being made into Shadows, even if she couldn’t remember the experience herself.
She stared at the pile, her thoughts already beginning to drift again as Erran turned back to his task. She mentally replayed what Davian had said to her, as she’d often found herself doing over the past few days. Felt herself flush with anger as she considered what it meant if he’d really been there.
It would mean that she’d been lied to by Ilseth. It would mean that the story of how she’d become a Shadow was just that—a story.
This time the frustration and anger settled in her stomach, burned steadily rather than faded. It was too much. She was tired of being used, tired of not knowing what to believe. She needed to find out what was real.
She took a deep breath.
“If I let you Read me, do you think it’s possible you could access the memories from when I was made a Shadow? The ones from the morning of the attack at Caladel?”
Erran stopped what he was doing, gaping at her.
“What?”
Asha turned to face him. The anger was still there, hot and low, with nowhere to escape. “Can you access the memories I’ve lost?” she asked succinctly.
“Why… why would you want to do that?” Erran looked flustered.
“Because I think the man who made me a Shadow might have lied about the reason why,” said Asha. “Can you do it?”
Erran slowly put down the Vessel he’d been holding, shaking his head. “I… don’t know,” he admitted after a moment. “There are a lot of variables. If the memory has just been walled off, rather than erased… maybe. But it could be dangerous. There has to be a reason Shadows lose that memory, Asha. It’s probably a defense. Messing with the mind when it’s trying to protect you… I have no idea of the consequences.” He frowned. “And even if I could access the memory, I’d have to break down whatever barriers are in place to get at it. Which means that it won’t be shut off from your mind any more, either. I just don’t think—”
Asha spun, stiffening, as a metallic scratching sound echoed through the room.
Erran paled. He heard it, too.
Someone was unlocking the door.
“No time,” he murmured, snatching up something from the shelf nearby and tossing it to Asha. She caught it before realizing what it was. A Veil.
Without hesitating Asha pressed the open end of the silver torc onto her arm.
Everything… shimmered.
A moment later the door swung open. A tall, thin, blue-cloaked Administrator strode through, freezing when he realized a lamp was already lit. His eyes moved straight to Erran, who was now standing with his back to the door, examining a shelf.
“What are you doing in here?” said the Administrator angrily, his voice booming around the warehouse.
Erran turned, and Asha shook her head in silent admiration at his nonchalant expression. “Administrator Ionis,” he said politely, giving a slight bow. “Duke Andras asked me to store something for him in here.”
The man called Ionis crossed his arms. “I recognize you. That servant that kept spilling drinks when I met with Elocien a few weeks ago.” He shook his head. “I don’t believe you. This area of the palace is strictly off-limits, and the duke knows it.”
Erran looked hurt. “Duke Andras will confirm he asked me,” he said in an injured tone. He reached into his pocket, producing the ring Asha had been handling a few moments earlier. “See? I was just trying to decide where it goes.”
Ionis studied the ring with narrowed eyes. “It goes wherever there is a space. There’s no order to any of this junk.” He shook his head, taking an object of his own from his pocket and tossing it on a nearby shelf. “Give me that, and come with me. I’m not letting you out of my sight until I speak to Elocien, so I hope for your sake you’re telling the truth.”
“Of course, Administrator. I’m happy to help.”
Ionis gave a brusque nod. “You’re alone in here?”
“Yes.”
Ionis looked around suspiciously but eventually nodded again, apparently satisfied. “Then let’s go.”
“Just let me get the duke’s key. I left it lying around on one of these shelves,” said Erran, his tone embarrassed. “I wouldn’t want it to be locked in here. It might be a while before someone can come down here again to fetch it.”
He started walking toward a shelf near where Asha stood. It took her a couple of moments to realize his words had been directed at her.
Moving as quietly as possible she slipped around the Administrator and through the still-open door, breathing a sigh of relief as she emerged into the passageway beyond. Erran had been right; the door required a key to unlock it, no matter which side of it you were on.
Once outside she set off at a light jog for the main section of the palace.
As soon as she was certain she wa
s alone, she removed the Veil from her arm. Her first thought was to head for her rooms—after such a near miss, she wanted nothing more than to collapse onto her bed and rest—but after a moment she made for Elocien’s study instead.
Fortunately there was no one waiting outside today; either Elocien had dealt with all the concerned nobles, or he had grown sick of them and had ordered them to leave him alone. Asha suspected the latter.
She knocked, relieved to see Elocien when the door opened.
The duke frowned around at the empty hallway. “Ashalia. This isn’t the best time…”
“It’s urgent, and it won’t take long.”
Once she was inside, she drew the Veil from her pocket, showing it to Elocien. “I was helping Erran look for something we could use amongst the Vessels,” she said quickly. “An Administrator came in while we were there. Ionis, I think his name was. I hid with this, but Erran didn’t have time. He told Ionis you sent him down there to store a ring.”
Elocien nodded calmly, as if this was entirely expected. “Thank you, Asha. Ionis won’t be happy, but he rarely is. Don’t worry. It will be fine.” He paused. “You should probably use the Veil again, though.”
Asha frowned. “Why?”
A knock came at the door.
Asha pressed the silver torc back onto her arm as Elocien rose. He made sure that she was no longer visible, then opened the door.
“Ionis! What a pleasant surprise,” said the duke in an amiable tone, stepping back to let the Administrator in. “And Erran, too, I see. How can I help you?”
Ionis made no move to enter. “This young man says you gave him this key”—he handed the storeroom key to the duke—“and sent him to put something in the Old Section?”
“That’s correct. A silver ring,” confirmed Elocien. “Erran has been with me for years. I trust him.”
Ionis’s face tightened, and he reached into his pocket and handed the ring across to Elocien before turning to Erran. “You may go,” he said curtly.
Erran nodded, looking relieved, then vanished down the hallway.
“Would you like to come in?” asked Elocien, gesturing inside his study.
Ionis’s eyes bored into the duke’s. “He shouldn’t have been down there, Your Grace.” He made no move to enter.
Elocien sighed. “Do you really think I would have sent him if I didn’t think he was trustworthy?”
“That’s not your decision to make. Administration won’t be happy. Your Grace.”
Elocien leaned forward slightly, and his tone changed. It was still friendly, but the words had steel beneath them this time. “Administration answers to me. As do you. You would do well to remember that.”
Ionis matched Elocien’s gaze, unperturbed. “As you say.” He moved to walk away, then hesitated, turning back. “What happened to you, Your Grace?”
The duke frowned. “I don’t know what you’re—”
“Yes you do.” Ionis studied Elocien’s face closely. “You used to believe in our purpose here. The importance of the work. You know the worst part of today? I believed that boy, even before I came up here. A few years ago I wouldn’t have even had to check with you. I would have known he was lying.” He shook his head, eyes narrowed. “Something changed, but I was never able to figure out what.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ionis,” said Elocien, sounding weary.
Ionis gazed at the Northwarden for a few more seconds, then snorted in disgust. “Of course you don’t.”
He spun on his heel and vanished down the hallway.
Elocien watched him go, then closed the door. “You can take it off again.”
Asha didn’t respond for a moment. She’d been half listening to the conversation, but there had been something else that was distracting her. Something she’d noticed when she’d put the Veil on the first time, but had been too flustered to pay any attention to.
The Veil was drawing Essence from her. From her Reserve. It was only a thin stream of energy, but… it was definitely there.
She closed her eyes, reaching out for Essence herself. There was nothing there… but the momentary disappointment faded as she considered the possibilities.
The art of making Vessels had been lost hundreds of years earlier, so very little was known about their operation. But if they could tap a Shadow’s Reserve…
It meant that becoming a Shadow hadn’t destroyed her Reserve, only blocked it off.
It meant that, just maybe, Davian had been right. There could be a cure, a way to reverse it.
Trembling, she released the Veil from her arm, allowing herself to fade back into view. Elocien looked at her in concern as he saw the expression on her face.
“What’s wrong?”
Asha hesitated, a dozen thoughts flashing through her mind at once.
If this was true for all Vessels, and all Shadows, then the implications of what she’d discovered were enormous. Shadows lost their Marks, were not bound by the Tenets. They could use Vessels however they chose. Use the weapons. Perhaps not as effectively as the Gifted—most Shadows were Gifted who had failed their Trials, after all—but each one could still count for a hundred normal soldiers, if they could be convinced to defend the city.
On the other hand, she trusted Elocien, but… he was the Northwarden. Was this something he would feel obliged to warn Administration about? Because given how much Administrators already feared the Shadraehin, and by extension all Shadows, she shuddered to think what the reaction might be to news such as this.
Then she thought of the visions in the Journal, and she knew there wasn’t really a choice. The Augurs had Seen the Blind inside the city. This wasn’t information she could withhold.
“I think… I’m fairly certain the Veil was drawing from my Reserve,” she said, voice shaking a little.
Elocien stared at her blankly for a few moments. “Your Reserve,” he repeated.
“I know how it sounds.” Asha rubbed her forehead, staring at the torc in her hand. “But it’s not my imagination.”
Elocien shook his head. “You must be mistaken. If Shadows could use Vessels, we would know about it.”
“Would we?” Asha looked him in the eye. “Shadows have only been around since the war, and given how we’re treated… I cannot imagine many of us have even had the chance to see a Vessel, let alone touch one. We’re mostly Gifted who failed our Trials, remember. I know the Shadows at the Tol wouldn’t be allowed anywhere near Athian’s Vessels. And Administration wouldn’t let a Shadow anywhere near… anything.” She shrugged. “And let’s be honest. I don’t know many Shadows who would make the knowledge public, even if they did find out.”
Elocien stared at her for a few seconds, then tossed her something small that glinted as it spun through the air.
“Prove it.”
Asha caught the object neatly and opened her hand, staring down at what she held. The silver ring from the storeroom. “Erran says this can punch a hole through a wall.”
“That was the first Vessel Erran ever tested, and he poured enough Essence into that thing to punch a hole through Ilin Tora,” said Elocien drily. “Just a trickle should be fine.”
Asha nodded, holding the ring out in front of her. She was about to close her eyes when Elocien coughed.
“Even so, if you could please point it away from my head…”
Asha gave him a crooked smile, adjusting so that she was facing Elocien’s bookcase. She took a deep breath. Concentrated.
At first there was nothing. Then… a connection. A sense of energy building up in the ring.
She released it.
Then she was flying backward, crashing against the far wall hard enough to rattle her teeth as Elocien’s carefully stacked shelves of books and documents exploded into a fluttering, chaotic mess of papers. Dazed, Asha accepted Elocien’s help as she struggled to her feet, eyes wide.
They both stood for a few moments, surveying the carnage.
The point of impact on
the bookcase had splintered the shelf, and there was a circular series of cracks in the stone where the blow had dinted the wall behind.
“Fates,” said Elocien. He looked at the wall, then Asha, then the wall again.
“Fates,” he repeated dazedly.
They spent the next few minutes tidying the mess as best they could, silent until the worst of it was cleared, each lost in their own thoughts. Eventually Elocien sat, gesturing for Asha to do the same, and stared at her like a puzzle to be solved.
“Assuming this applies to all Shadows, and not just you,” he said quietly. “You’re not bound by the Tenets?”
Asha shook her head. “Not from what I can tell.”
Elocien rubbed his forehead. “I need time to think about this.” He grimaced. “In the meantime I need your word. You don’t breathe a word of this—not to anyone. Not even to the Augurs. If this ever got out…” His frown deepened. “Panic. Overreaction, from Administration and probably from a lot of common folk, too. Which ends badly for the Shadows. And then, any Shadows who manage to get hold of a Vessel…” He looked sick. “I know a lot of Shadows are good people, Asha, but a lot of them hate Administration for making them the way they are. Not sure I can blame them, either, but giving them weapons like that…”
Asha nodded; she’d had time to process the implications now, and she knew that what the duke was saying was true. “You have my word,” she assured him. “What about for defending against the Blind, though?”
Elocien shook his head. “No. Not even for that.” He held up a hand as Asha made to protest. “And regardless, the Shadows are disparate, disorganized, and have little allegiance to the city. Even if we sent word out, there’s no way we could arrange them into any meaningful group.”
“There’s one person who could.” Asha raised an eyebrow. “Who already has.”
Elocien stared at her in pure disbelief.
“After what they’ve done? After what they did to you?” He shook his head. “No. We’re not there yet.”
“That wasn’t him. And we know the Blind get inside the city—”
“We believe they do,” corrected Elocien. “But right now, we have an army of nine thousand good men standing in their way, not to mention the Shields at Fedris Idri. I’m worried, Asha, but not worried enough to give over some of the most powerful weapons ever created into the hands of murderers. Particularly ones who wouldn’t hesitate to turn those weapons on us once the battle’s over.” He held up a hand as he saw Asha’s face. “I’m not saying I won’t consider it. But we’re not there yet.”
The Shadow of What Was Lost Page 43
