Asha bit her lip, but eventually gave a reluctant nod. “Have you told Wirr?”
“Yes—we’ve said our good-byes.” Davian glanced around nervously as he caught another flash of blue from the corner of his eye. He was tempting fate by staying this long. “I know you don’t approve of Shen, but… you could come with me. From what you’ve been saying, it might be safer for you away from Administration, away from this Scyner and the Shadraehin.”
Asha shook her head. “And be what—a servant of some kind?” She sighed. “You’re right, Dav. We need to be where we’re going to have the most impact, and my place is here.”
Davian’s heart sank, but he nodded. He’d known that would be Asha’s answer, knew that they were both making the right choices. It didn’t stop him from desperately wishing that things were different, though.
“I understand,” he said.
Suddenly he spotted someone in a red cloak waving to him; he blinked in surprise as the figure came closer.
“Ishelle?” He stood, helping Asha to her feet too before giving the other Augur a confused smile as she approached. “What are you doing here?”
Ishelle raised an eyebrow. “You said you’d give me my answer if I came,” she said, expression serious.
Davian stared at her for a moment, then laughed as he realized what she was talking about.
Ishelle grinned back, then turned her gaze to Asha. “I’m Ishelle,” she said, her tone cheerful. “Davian and I met on the road a few days ago.”
“Dav told me all about it,” said Asha easily, giving Ishelle a polite nod. “I’m Asha.”
Ishelle nodded in return, though for a moment Davian thought he saw a flash of irritation in her eyes. Then she turned back to him. “I didn’t want to interrupt, but one of my friends over there”—she nodded toward where a group of red-cloaked Gifted were gathered—“overheard a couple of Administrators talking about you. They were becoming a little… agitated, apparently. I thought you might want to know.”
Davian grimaced. “Wonderful.” He rubbed his forehead.
Ishelle watched him closely. “Are you still coming to Tol Shen?”
Davian paused for a moment, then nodded.
“Then you should join us. It’s a long trip to Prythe; I’m sure you’d prefer not to do it alone.” Ishelle tugged at her cloak. “We have a spare one of these, and we’re leaving straight away. We’ll be out of the city before anyone thinks to look too closely at who is in the group.”
Davian hesitated, but Asha laid her hand gently on his arm. “Go,” she said, giving him a small smile. “We both know you’ve already stayed longer than you should have. I don’t want you getting caught because of me.”
She wrapped him in a sudden, affectionate embrace. Davian returned it, and they stood like that for several seconds, neither wanting to be the first one to let go.
Eventually there was a polite cough from Ishelle, and Davian and Asha reluctantly separated.
Asha gave him a final parting smile, and was about to turn away when she hesitated.
“Wait. There’s one more thing.” She reached into a pocket in her dress, then drew out something that glittered in the flickering torchlight. She grabbed Davian’s hand and pressed the object into his palm. “They’re eventually going to take this away from me if I hang on to it. Just… keep it for me.” It might have been Davian’s imagination, but he thought her eyes were glistening. “You can give it back to me when we see each other next.”
She gave him another tight, brief hug, then spun and walked off before he could say anything.
He opened his hand slowly.
The ring was silver, three bands twisted together in a distinctive pattern. Davian stared at it, dazed.
The last time he’d seen this ring, Malshash had been destroying it in Deilannis.
He hesitated for a long moment.
Then he slipped the ring onto his finger, shaking his head slightly at the familiar weight. Taking a deep breath, he nodded to Ishelle, and they made their way toward the cluster of red-cloaked Gifted.
It was time to move on.
Epilogue
Asha leaned against the wall of the Great Hall, tired eyes squinting against the light as the first rays of dawn found their way through a nearby window.
She stared around dully at the gathered nobility, everyone talking in hushed tones as the aftermath of the battle continued to be assessed. Tol Athian’s input into the proceedings hadn’t been needed for a while now; she knew she should go back to her rooms, try to sleep, but her grief was still too sharp. It had been only a few hours since the Andarran victory, yet the elation of that moment had already worn off, rapidly replaced by the heavy knowledge of what had been lost.
She had only just returned from identifying Michal’s body. Her mentor had evidently been slain in the chaotic flight from the Shields to the palace; her only comfort was that it had been with a single blow, dealt from behind and straight through the chest. He had probably never even felt the blade go in.
An hour before that, Kol’s body had been moved under her watchful gaze and placed into the heartrendingly long line of those who needed burial. It had been hard to see her friend’s lifeless form again—and even harder to see it alone. Erran and Fessi had been true to their word; Asha had visited their rooms, but they were gone, having left no sign that they had ever been in Ilin Illan. Davian had left hours earlier. Wirr was still busy trying to deal with an angry and confused Administration, and probably would be for days to come.
She knew she’d done the right thing by staying, knew that this was where she needed to be. It didn’t make it feel any less lonely.
Even as she had the thought, though, she summoned a small smile as a weary-looking Wirr hurried toward her.
“Representative Chaedris.” He stopped in front of her, and though he smiled back, she could see the worry in his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” she asked him quietly, heart sinking even lower. She wasn’t sure she could handle more bad news. Not now.
Wirr glanced around, making sure that there was nobody nearby to overhear. “Administration has asked to go through my father’s office. They phrased it as a courtesy to me, of course—to ease my workload—but they’ve started to realize that he must have known something about my being Gifted. They’re suspicious, and I couldn’t refuse them without looking like I had something to hide.”
Asha paled. “I don’t know if there’s anything in there, but…”
“I know.” Wirr clasped Asha’s hands in his; he made the gesture seem like a condolence, but Asha felt the hard, uneven iron of a key slip into her palm. “I can hold them off for maybe an hour. Make sure you’re done by then.”
Asha nodded, and Wirr turned to go. Then he hesitated.
“Be careful, Ash. Try to stay out of sight if you can,” he said in a low voice. “I’m trying to keep things in Administration under control, but there’s more than a little hysteria about the Shadows right now. It’s not official policy, but if an Administrator sees you and they don’t know who you are, I wouldn’t be surprised if they try to detain you. Especially since you’re an obvious target at the moment.”
Asha gave a short, rueful nod. Most of the Shadows had melted away, unnoticed, within the first hour of the victory—along with their Vessels. By the time it had been brought to anyone’s attention, Asha had been one of only a handful of Shadows left in the city.
She watched Wirr hurry away, then took a deep breath, moving out into a deserted corridor and heading for her rooms. Once there she quickly retrieved the Veil she’d hidden earlier, slipping it onto her wrist and watching pensively as it molded to her skin. Everything shimmered for a moment, and when she moved over to look in the mirror, only an empty room stared back at her.
She nodded in satisfaction and then left again. The palace hallways were still mostly empty, and she had no trouble avoiding collisions with the few people she came across. Once at Elocien’s office she made sure the passageway
was clear in both directions, then used the key Wirr had given her, slipping inside and locking the door behind her.
She just stood there for a moment, looking around the room sadly. It felt… odd, to be in here without the reassuring presence of the duke. Her stomach twisted as she thought of him—wondered again how many of her conversations had been with him, and how many with Erran. Or if there was ultimately any difference.
She sighed, then moved over to Elocien’s desk, methodically checking through his drawers and scanning each piece of paper on his desk. There didn’t appear to be anything incriminating, much to her relief. It seemed that Elocien—or Erran—had thought to be careful, even in here.
Ten minutes had passed when a key turned in the lock.
Asha’s heart leaped to her throat and she quietly shut the drawer she’d been searching, then moved back into the corner of the room. Wirr had said an hour, but it couldn’t have been more than half of that since they’d spoken.
She gave a silent sigh of relief as the door swung open to reveal Laiman Kardai standing in the hallway. The king’s adviser had known about the Augurs, was trustworthy. Was probably there for the same reasons as she, in fact.
She was just about to remove her Veil when someone called Laiman’s name. Laiman’s head turned, and he smiled as another man came into view.
“Taeris!” Laiman glanced around to make sure no one else was in the vicinity, then beckoned the heavily scarred man inside. “They decided not to keep you locked away, I see,” he said with some amusement.
Asha studied the newcomer’s crisscrossed features as he entered. This was clearly Taeris Sarr—the man Davian said had orchestrated the attack on him three years earlier. She frowned as she watched Laiman’s and Taeris’s body language. The two men appeared relaxed around one other, like old acquaintances.
Taeris smiled back, though his eyes were tired. “They’re still not entirely happy that I deceived them with the Travel Stones, broke into the Tol, or showed them up as fools. Particularly the latter. But Caeden’s little performance has changed a few minds, convinced them that there might at least be some merit to what I’ve been saying.” He sank into a nearby chair. “Enough for a reprieve from my cell, anyway.”
There was silence for a few moments as Laiman walked over to the desk, rifling through papers just as Asha had been doing. Asha stretched her muscles cautiously, unsure now whether to reveal herself.
“I hear the king has recovered,” said Taeris.
“He has,” said Laiman absently as he scanned a document, though his tone held a note of reservation.
“You don’t sound happy.”
Laiman grimaced, looking up from what he was reading. “He remembers very little from the past two months.”
Taeris frowned. “Control, then,” he concluded. “We’re fortunate they didn’t try to take things further.”
“That’s what has me worried.” Laiman resumed his search. “If the Blind were really Controlling him, it doesn’t makes sense. I mean, I can see why they wouldn’t want him changing the Tenets. But they could have done so much more damage.” He scratched his head. “And the timing of his being released, too—straight after the Tenets were changed…”
Taeris shrugged. “Maybe the Blind realized what had happened, and decided he wasn’t worth the effort any more?”
Laiman shook his head in frustration. “I thought that too at first, but he’s the king. He could have ordered the surrender—fates knows what would have happened, exactly, but I guarantee it wouldn’t have been pleasant.” He hesitated. “Just think, for a moment. Given the way things turned out. Who benefited most from having the king act the way he did?”
“Aside from the Blind?” Taeris tapped his fingers together as he considered. “Well, the king looks a fool now, stubborn for not changing the Tenets. There’s no proof he was Controlled, and most people don’t even believe that power exists, so it’s not exactly something the palace can claim. So I suppose…” He trailed off, staring at Laiman in mild disbelief. “Us? The Gifted?”
“Tol Shen, to be more precise,” said Laiman, opening another drawer. “It’s no secret that Athian decided to hide in the Tol until the Tenets were changed. Shen, on the other hand, had people on the Shields healing the wounded from the start.” He paused, rubbing his forehead. “And the only memories the king has that are recent are of when Karaliene was away. When I insisted that Lothlar and some of his people accompany her, despite his protests.”
Asha stared at the king’s adviser as he flicked through more papers, stunned that he would even hint at such an accusation. Taeris’s skeptical expression, however, wavered. “You think they have an Augur?”
“No. If it was an Augur, the distance wouldn’t have mattered—and Kevran wouldn’t have had any physical symptoms, either. But we both know there are Vessels out there that can simulate Control, and it’s my belief that Lothlar has one.”
Taeris was silent for a moment, looking troubled at the thought. “Even if he does, there still has to be an Augur involved for your theory to make any sense,” he pointed out. “If this all started two months ago, then it was well before the invasion—which means that Shen knew about the attack before it started. And power hungry though they can be, they won’t have aligned themselves with the likes of the Blind. Fates, if they really did plan this, they’d have needed an Augur to tell them ahead of time that we won!”
Laiman flicked the last drawer in the desk shut. “There is another possibility.”
Taeris frowned for a few seconds in puzzlement, then grunted as he realized what Laiman was hinting at. “You still think they have the Journal pages.”
Laiman gave a grim nod and walked over to sit opposite Taeris, apparently satisfied with the results of his search. “You know I’ve always had my suspicions as to who took them. And we both know that Seeing twenty years ahead wasn’t a stretch for the likes of Jakarris, Eleran, or Siks.” He sighed. “There’s no proof, of course—Shen could equally have an Augur working for them. But if they did know this attack was coming since the war, their political maneuvering over the past ten years suddenly has more logic behind it. The Houses they chose to ally with never really made sense to me until today.”
Taeris sat in silence for a few moments, then nodded reluctantly. “So the king looks like a bigoted fool, everyone sees how valuable the Gifted truly are, and Shen takes the most difficult step back toward power. They gain the trust of the people again, while simultaneously undermining the Loyalists.” He sighed. “I can see what you’re saying. It’s unlikely Shen got into a position like that by coincidence.”
“Exactly,” said Laiman quietly.
Still standing motionless in the corner, Asha stared at the two men in horror. Could it be true? The Journal Erran had shown her had pages missing; that must be what the king’s adviser was referring to. Though how he thought Tol Shen could rely on those visions, when the others in the book had been so clearly wrong, she had no idea.
Regardless—she hadn’t even considered, hadn’t imagined that anyone except the Blind could be Controlling the king. The very thought made her nauseous.
Taeris, though, just looked annoyed. “Fates. Shen was playing a dangerous game, even by their standards.”
“And now it’s paying off—they’re going to be more powerful than they have been for a very long time. When I raised the possibility of the king being Controlled, they went so far as to suggest that the palace was trying to invent a story to cover up its own incompetence.” Laiman’s lip curled in disgust. “This success has made them bolder.”
Asha shook her head in disbelief, almost forgetting for a moment that she was invisible. Tol Shen had used foreknowledge of the invasion, the deaths of thousands, to play politics? And Davian had left only hours earlier to work with them…
“And now Davian, of all people, has thrown in his lot with them,” Taeris noted, echoing Asha’s thoughts. He scowled, rubbing his forehead. “I tried to find him after the bat
tle, but the lad had already left. He doesn’t trust me any more—which is my fault, I suppose, but it makes it no less of a problem. I still think he’s the key, Thell. We’ve both read Alchesh. He’s as important as Caeden, maybe more so.”
“I agree,” said Laiman, making a calming motion. “Shen has pursued him more aggressively than I would have expected; if they really do have the missing Journal pages, that could be significant in and of itself. All we can do for now, though, is try to find their purpose for him. Once we know that, we can figure out our next move.” He paused. “And Taeris? It’s Laiman now. Always Laiman, even in here.”
Thell. Asha’s brow furrowed, and she made a mental note of the name. If the king’s adviser wasn’t using his real name, it was worth finding out why.
Taeris acknowledged the rebuke with a nod. “Sorry.” He frowned contemplatively, then exhaled. “At least I still know where he is, I suppose.”
Laiman looked at his friend, expression worried. “He could break the connection now. I think he would if you asked, no matter how he feels about you.”
“No. It’s too important to be able to find him,” said Taeris, his tone firm. “Besides, the lad has problems enough right now—there’s no benefit to burdening him with the knowledge of what he did. It’s been three years, and I don’t think he even remembers anything about the attack. As long as Torin or Karaliene don’t bring it up, I think it’s best to leave it alone.”
“Karaliene knows, too?”
“It was the only way she’d let me into the palace. Torin told her—before he realized Davian was still alive, of course.”
Asha frowned. When she’d spoken to him after the battle, Davian had been convinced that Taeris was responsible for the attack on him three years earlier. This, though… this made it sound as if there was more to the story than he’d realized. And Wirr knew? She’d have to find out more from her friend when she next had the opportunity.
The Shadow of What Was Lost Page 71
