The Shadow Trilogy Complete Box Set

by Dayne Edmondson

  Alivia uncovered her face and opened he eyes. “Never in all my years have I seen the like. And the color! It was pure white light. For most mages, the circlet emits only one color, such as blue or red or green - never all of them at once.”

  “Does that mean I’m powerful?”

  “It means you have great potential.”

  “Try me next,” Ashley said.

  Alivia placed the circlet on Ashley. The result was the same as it had been with John. The circlet emanated a brilliant glow that caused the others to shield their eyes until Ashley removed it.

  Ashley handed the circlet to Jason. “Here, you try.”

  Jason eyed the circlet, but made no move to take it. “I don’t want to.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t.”

  “That’s a childish answer,” John said. “Just put it on. What do you have to lose?”

  Jason sighed but took the circlet from Ashley. Placing it on his head, he closed his eyes, as if willing the circlet not to light up. The circlet defied his will, however, and illuminated the room for a third time.

  Alivia clapped her hands together. “Excellent! You can remove it now, Jason.” She took the circlet from him. “That confirms it - the three of you have the potential to be very powerful. How powerful, I do not know.”

  “That’s great,” Ashley said. “How do we start to use magic?”

  Alivia replaced the circlet in the cabinet and took a seat in the chair across from the others. “To start, close your eyes. Clear your mind of all thoughts and emotions. Once you have done that, feel yourself drifting outside of your body. Try to envision yourself as you would be perceived by someone standing nearby. Can you see yourself?”

  “No,” John said.

  “Keep trying. It can take time for you to tap into your magical perception.”

  For a time the three Earthlings sat in the chamber, attempting to clear their minds and extend their perception outside of their bodies. Just as John was about to give up, he felt something. Like a veil being lifted, he could suddenly see himself. He did not look like he had expected, as if he were viewing a photograph of himself. Instead, his body glowed. Waves of what had to be energy radiated from his body, while the rest of his body was made up of tiny particles. He drifted closer to his body and inspected his hand. He saw the tiny particles of skin that made up his flesh. He moved “forward” and felt his perspective shift deeper. Instead of the particles that made up his skin, he saw his blood vessels and his bones. Moving forward again, he isolated a single particle in his bones. Within the particle, he laid bare a single electron and saw the atoms within it. He marveled at the depth he could view within his own body.

  “John,” a disembodied voice came from somewhere. It reverberated within the world he was seeing. He didn’t recognize the voice at first. He continued his study of the atoms that made up his body. “John.” The voice was more insistent, and it seemed…familiar. Ashley, he thought. “John, snap out of it. You have to come back.” It was Ashley. How had he forgotten? Anchoring his mind on her voice, on the image of Ashley, John felt his mind withdraw from its molecular inspection and snap back into his body. Before his eyes were his friends, staring at him with concern in their eyes. “What happened?” John asked.

  “You weren’t responding,” Ashley said. “Your eyes started glowing white and I started to get worried. It’s been several minutes. What did you see?”

  John pressed his hand to the side of his head - it was pounding. “It was amazing, Ash. I saw - I saw everything. I saw every piece of myself at the deepest level. I could have spent eternity examining just my body. It’s hard to describe it any other way but, wow!”

  To the side, John saw Alivia nod. “That sounds like a deeper experience than most novice mages have. What you describe is something that most mages do not experience until they have been practicing magic for many years. I only recently experienced such a deep connection with the world around me. I must caution you though - mages have died from remaining in such a state for too long. They forget to eat, drink and even breathe. It is important that you not allow yourself to go so deep until you are more comfortable with your magic and how to return your mind to your body.”

  “How did you do it?” Ashley asked.

  “It was just like Alivia said,” John said. “I just let everything go and sort of drifted outside of my body. You try.”

  Ashley closed her eyes. For several moments nothing happened, but then her eyes snapped open and glowed with an inner white light. Her breathing slowed.

  John turned to Alivia. “Is this how it was with me, too?”

  “Yes. The same thing happened with you. A mage’s eyes take on a white color when they are using their magic. As you gain more training, you will learn to split your attention so that while you are manipulating matter or energy you are still able to see your surroundings with your eyes and detect it with your other senses.”

  “I see,” John said.

  A short while later, Ashley’s eyes returned to their normal green color and she blinked. “Wow, that was amazing,” she said. “I felt so alive, like I could do anything. I didn’t go as deep as you, John, but I was able to inspect the entire outside of my body.” She turned to Jason. “Your turn.”

  Jason groaned. “Ugh, do I have to?”

  “You should try,” Alivia said.

  “Fine. Here it goes.”

  Jason closed his eyes. Like before with Ashley, nothing happened for several minutes. Finally, his eyes snapped open and were glowing. His breathing slowed and he remained in that state for several minutes.

  During that time, John noticed something glowing on Jason’s wrists. He took his wrist and turned it over. The blue symbol on his wrists was glowing with an intense blue light, as if lit from within. John inspected his own symbols and they were not glowing in that way. “What do you think he’s doing?” John asked.

  “I don’t know,” Alivia said. “What are those strange symbols?”

  “They’re special marks we were given when we came to this land,” John said.

  No sooner had John spoken than Jason had awoken from his trance. He looked around. “I was wrong, you were right. Magic does exist.”

  “What did you see?” Ashley asked.

  “I saw everything the two of you described on the outside. But I was curious, so I came closer and focused on the symbols and the nanites within. They really are tiny machines. I could literally see them in these visions, feel the energy radiating from them and touch them with my mind. It was amazing.”

  Alivia clapped her hands. “That’s wonderful. You all caught on so quickly. I have taught new initiates who have taken weeks to view their body from the outside, let alone anything further. I predict your training will advance quickly.”

  Chapter 14 - A Daring Plan

  Boris crept down the hallway toward Darin’s quarters. The gladiatorial instructor slept in the compound along with the rest of the slaves, though he was at the opposite end of the building. As Boris neared his room, he remained vigilant for the first sign of guards near Darin’s quarters. There were none that Boris had been able to locate.

  Boris’ plan was to kill Darin and escape. He wanted to kill Darin as payback for the brutal tactics the man employed. During the last week, even more men had been killed for failing to live up to the standards of their instructor. Even Boris felt the strain in his muscles from the harsh day-long training sessions.

  The knife in Boris’ hand slid up between the door and the door frame and lifted the latch. Very gently, Boris moved the latch enough that he could open the door. Sliding inside, he took a moment to gather his bearings. Darin’s quarters were functional, with a single person bed, small chest of drawers and table illuminated by low lantern light. Darin occupied the bed. His breathing suggested he was sleeping, so Boris crept up to the bed, using all of the skills he had learned during his years as an assassin, and raised his knife over Darin’s prone body. Before he cou
ld thrust the blade downward, however, he was startled by Darin’s leg lancing out and kicking him backward. He caught himself before he tumbled to the floor, but Darin was already standing. In the man’s hand was a scimitar, and he drew a knife from the sheath at his waist.

  Darin studied Boris in the dim light. “Boris, is that you?” he asked. He reached over and turned up the illumination cast by the lamp on his table. “It is you. Did you think I would not be prepared for would-be killers?” He laughed. “I have not lived for this long without learning to always keep a weapon close and sleep light. Why did you try to kill me?”

  Boris pointed his knife toward Darin’s chest. “You’re brutal. These men don’t deserve to die - not in this way.”

  Darin was silent for a moment. “And you think that by killing me those men would be saved? That’s not how the world works, my friend. I die, and Victor either comes in here and has every man gutted or Victor brings in an even more brutal instructor. What I do, I do because I’ve been instructed to do it if I want to live. Besides, those men I kill now would have died in the arena eventually anyway.”

  “That doesn’t make it right.”

  “I’ll tell you what, my friend. You kill me,” Darin let his scimitar and knife drop to the stone floor, “and you can watch as all the men who might have lived die before your eyes. You will be no better than I then - condemning men to die.” He stepped forward, grabbed Boris’ hands that still clutched the knife and pressed the tip of the blade to the space just below his ribs. It would be an easy thing for Boris to thrust upward and pierce his heart.

  Boris closed his eyes. Darin was right. Killing him would only bring the ire of Victor down on the remaining slaves. Even if Boris managed to escape, the deaths on his hands would haunt him. He had been an assassin, trained to kill. He had killed his share of men and women, but always he justified the killings by telling himself the people he killed deserved it. These slaves - they were the least deserving of death. He lowered the dagger, though he kept it in a firm grip. “Fine, I will let you live. Are you going to punish me?”

  Darin studied Boris, his eyes staring into Boris’. “I should have you whipped and flayed for what you attempted to do. But I won’t.” He picked up his scimitar and knife. “I admire your resolve and determination. It will be of great use in the arenas. Now go back to your chambers before I change my mind.”

  Boris nodded and turned to go.

  “Oh, and Boris? If you say anything, and I mean anything, about this to any of the other slaves, I will gut you myself. Understood?”

  “I understand,” Boris said as he exited the room, fist clenched tight around the dagger until he was safe in his chambers.

  Chapter 15 - Parting of Ways

  Music and sounds of merriment escaped The Dancing Mare and reverberated down the cobblestone street illuminated by street lamps as John, Ashley and Jason approached, dragging their feet and feeling exhausted. Alivia had worked them hard, insisting that they keep practicing over and over the process of expanding their minds. They had found that holding their minds outside of their bodies for any length of time was tiring. Alivia assured them that with time and practice their ability to cast their minds outside of their bodies for longer periods of time would increase.

  The bouncer at the door, Bruno, recognizing them from earlier, nodded and waved them inside. “They’re in one of the private dining rooms. Ask Paul or Elizabeth which one,” he said as they passed.

  Dawyn and Anwyn were indeed in one of the private dining chambers. As the three companions entered the room, Dawyn set down his fork and turned his attention from the steaming platter of meat in front of him to the new arrivals. He smiled. “Ah, come in, please. How did training go?”

  The three took seats at the large dining table and sagged in relief. “Exhausting,” John said. “I can barely think straight right now.”

  “Well, perhaps a hearty meal will give you some energy. If not, there are three warm beds waiting upstairs for you.”

  “A hot meal sounds good right about now,” Ashley said. “All she gave us today was travel rations and nuts. Not very filling.”

  “You’ll learn that using magic of any kind can tire your body as well as your mind,” Anwyn said. “It is important to eat the proper amount of food to keep your body properly fueled. If you grow too weak, using your magic could harm you.”

  “Tell that to Alivia.”

  Dawyn smiled. “Alivia sometimes forgets what it was like when she first became a mage. She lived in the Tower all her life and seldom ventured outside it. It takes her time to realize that not everyone was raised in the Tower.”

  “What, in the Tower they can survive on what amounts to travel rations and peanuts?” Jason asked.

  Dawyn shook his head. “No, but my understanding is that mages have the ability to conserve their energy more than ordinary humans. This means that although they need a lot of fuel to keep their bodies and minds in tip-top condition, the fuel lasts much longer. Think of building a fire with hard wood versus soft wood, for example. The hard wood will burn for a long time, while the other wood will burn rapidly. Mages are like the hardest wood being burned - they can go for long periods of time before they need to add more large logs to the flame.”

  “I wish Alivia would have explained that to us,” John said. “I would have told her that our energy is like a pine tree on fire - it goes up in flames before you can blink.”

  The arrival of the innkeeper bringing food for the newcomers interrupted the conversation. The three ate in silence, and Dawyn and Anwyn joined them, finishing their meals.

  After about ten minutes, Dawyn spoke. “Anwyn and I are leaving tomorrow. Now that we’ve been assured that you three are in good hands, we must seek the slave master out and bring him to justice. I recommend you continue staying here at The Dancing Mare instead of taking rooms at the Tower. It’s just as important to become accustomed with the world outside of the Tower as it is to be within it.”

  “How long will you two be gone?” John asked.

  “It will take several weeks to reach the location where the slave master is rumored to be holed up in, and several weeks back. Not to mention the reconnaissance required and the actual fighting to bring him to justice. It could be two or three months before we return.”

  “What if we need you in the meantime?” Ashley asked. “We’ve only been on this world for less than a month.”

  “Paul and Elizabeth will give you anything you need,” Dawyn said, “and Alivia is more wise about the world than she once was. Between them, I’m sure you’ll be fine. Besides, you’ll be kept busy with training. But please, stay in Tar Ebon. If you leave the city without telling us where you’re going, we may never find you again. Even if you do tell us where you’re going, you may not be there when we arrive. I don’t relish a wild goose chase, so don’t be like wild geese.”

  “Safe travels, then,” Jason said. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine.”

  “I am not worried,” Dawyn said.

  “How many rooms did you secure for us?” Ashley asked.

  “Two. One for you and John, as I understand you are lovers, and one for Jason.”

  John laughed at the sight of Ashley’s face turning crimson. “Ash, that’s what we are. There’s no need to blush.”

  Ashley turned her eyes on John and gave him a glare. “Shut up. I know what we are. It’s just strange hearing it from him,” she gestured to Dawyn. “It’s like hearing it from my dad.”

  Chapter 16 - The Arena

  The clatter of the iron gate ascending reverberated through the tunnel as Boris stood waiting. Outside, in the Rolstad gladiatorial arena, the crowd cheered, anticipating bloodshed. Boris hoped it would not be too much of his blood shed this day.

  After weeks of training in the yard, Darin deemed Boris ready to be placed in the arena. Victor may have been a slaver, but he valued his fighters and ordered Darin not to send out any slave until he could reasonably hold his own in the aren
a. The more winning slaves a slave master owned, the more prestige they had among the slave-owning nobility.

  Boris clenched his hand around the handhold of the iron shield, while his other hand clutched the iron sword that was the weapon of choice for this match. At his request, he had been allowed a dagger, which was strapped to his waist. He wore no shirt - only a loincloth.

  No sooner had the iron gate completed its ascent than a horn echoed and Boris was shoved by one of Victor’s guards into the arena. “Don’t die,” one of the guards said as the gate began to descend again.

  “Thanks,” Boris muttered. Across the circular arena, his opponent had also entered. The man was black of skin, with a shaved head. He wore sandals on his feet and was equipped with a sword and shield like Boris. He too studied Boris from across the arena.

  “Step forward,” a voice boomed from the stands. Boris turned to see a portly man dressed in purple robes standing up in a covered pavilion to his right. Victor sat to the left of the portly man, while another man, presumably the owner of the black slave, sat to his right. Each of the men munched on what looked to be grapes while holding a chalice in the other.

  Boris stepped toward the center of the arena. The two men met in the middle. As he came closer, he saw that the man before him had many scars on his body. A large scar covered most of his face, while his torso was covered with healed wounds. It was clear this man had fought many a time.

  “Bow to your opponent,” the portly man said.

  Boris bowed, though his eyes never left his opponent. “May the best man win,” he said.

  The black gladiator had also bowed. “May you drown in your own blood, Imperial.” He spat to the side.

  Well, I tried to be polite, Boris thought. I won’t have as much compunction killing him now, though.

  “Prepare yourselves,” the voice from above said.

  Boris stepped back and held his shield up in front of him. His sword was out to his side, ready to slide or pierce at a moments notice. The black man held his shield and sword out to the side. In fact, the man had barely moved. What was he thinking?