Shadow Games (The Collector Chronicles Book 2)

by D. K. Holmberg

  Carth nodded. She wouldn’t have started this game had Boiyn not already been on the mend. They had found a healer, someone they could buy off with coins she’d stolen from one of the wealthier merchants, slipping her hand in and out of his pocket before he even noticed. It was a technique she had learned as a child that had never faded, and she felt no remorse at taking what she needed.

  “Did she say how long she thought it would take for him to fully recover?”

  Alayna shook her head. “Only that he needs rest. It might be several days until he’s back on his feet. Even then, she wasn’t sure. She’s not had any experience with someone quite like him.”

  The comment elicited a laugh, and Carth shook her head. “Few have ever met anyone quite like Boiyn.”

  “When he recovers enough, he might be able to mix an elixir that will help himself.”

  “Let’s hope so.”

  Carth moved a piece around on the board, still not satisfied with the way the game board was laid out. She moved her own piece, sliding it so that she confronted the Collector, and found that when she did, she was flanked in multiple directions. What she considered the Stone—the Elder Stone—was still unobtainable, at least without the Collector realizing what she did or the way that she went after it.

  For what she wanted to accomplish to work, she would need for the Collector not to know what she was doing.

  There didn’t seem to be any way for him not to know what she was doing.

  “Have you figured out how you’re going to beat him?” Alayna asked. She looked at the pieces and lifted the one that indicated the Collector. “I presume that this is you and our side?”

  Carth laughed and leaned back in her chair, reaching for the mug of ale. It was warm and more bitter than she liked, but it was all that she had. “You would presume wrong,” Carth said.

  Alayna’s eyes widened. “This isn’t our side?”

  Carth started pointing to the pieces. She plucked the one that Alayna had in her hand away from her and set it back on the board. “This would be the Collector.” She pointed to another piece. “This is the head constable, Natassa. This is her underlying, Peter, the man we first encountered. And this is Alistan Rhain. All of them make up the tribunal, which places us in a difficult situation. Then there are these,” she said, motioning to a ring of pieces that were more distant than the others. Each of them would make movement difficult.

  “What are those?”

  “Those are people like Talia, people that he has influenced to react in his specific way. Those are people who he counts on to ensure his safety.”

  Alayna stared at the board. Carth had worked with her on playing Tsatsun, but she didn’t have much of a mind for it, though she hadn’t thought Linsay had much of a mind for it either, and that had proven not to be the case.

  “Do you see some way for us to succeed?” she asked.

  Carth smiled. “I’m not sure that succeeding is what we can even count on. I want to simply keep us alive.”

  “We can’t win?”

  Carth stared at the board, moving the pieces in her mind, trying to come up with the various strategies that might work. Anything she came up with led to their defeat within a few moves. There was nothing that she could imagine that would bring them victory.

  “I don’t see a way to win. We need to find a way to survive.”

  “Only survive?”

  Carth couldn’t take her eyes off the game board. It felt as if she were playing as a beginner, the same way that she had felt when she had first learned to play Tsatsun, and how easily she was beaten. In that time, she had placed herself into her opponent’s mindset and used that to help her come up with what her next plan needed to be. Only this time, she wasn’t certain that would be helpful. She could put herself into the Collector’s mind, but that only worked when she had seen the other’s strategy. That only worked if she knew the other’s strategy.

  “I can’t believe Linsay was playing us like that for that long,” Alayna said. “Jenna still isn’t sure whether to believe it.”

  “I wish it weren’t true,” Carth said. “I wish that she hadn’t been responsible for what happened to us, but I can’t ignore all the evidence I saw that tells me she is to blame.”

  Alayna picked up one of the pieces on the periphery—a piece that Carth had used to signify those who worked with the Collector but didn’t necessarily have as much power in the game. “What if you’re wrong?” She looked up at Carth and met her gaze. “What if Linsay hasn’t been working for the Collector? You will have betrayed and abandoned her.”

  Carth pulled the pieces off the board, holding only those that signified herself, the Collector, and Linsay. “Where did Linsay train?”

  Alayna frowned. “I was there with you when we pulled her from Obal.”

  Carth picked up another piece and set it on the board. “This is Obal. This is when we found Linsay and thought she needed our help.”

  “You’re saying she didn’t need our help?”

  Carth shrugged. “I don’t know whether she did or not. It’s possible that she did need help from us, though, unfortunately, it’s just as possible that she fabricated the difficulty she was in.”

  “She would have been killed, Carth,” Alayna said.

  Carth stared at the board. If what she suspected were true, and what Linsay had done had been a real betrayal, it would have required a great sacrifice in order to pull Carth in. The Collector would have known that Carth wouldn’t have fallen for something small. He would have known that it would take a significant gesture to prove to Carth that Linsay needed her help. From there, he would have preyed upon the fact that Carth wanted to believe that Linsay needed her help.

  “Maybe,” Carth said. “Or maybe she would have been fine, rescued by the Collector if we hadn’t intervened.” She slid the piece representing the Collector closer to the board. “He admitted that he studied in Asador, Thyr, and Obal.”

  “He studied in Thyr?”

  “He did. Which makes me wonder what connection he actually has to the Hjan. Maybe it’s none, but maybe there is a connection and he’s not simply pretending. Regardless, we have Obal. We have Linsay. We have the Collector.”

  “That’s not enough, Carth. It’s not enough to abandon our friend, someone who has fought with us and someone who has helped us.”

  “He knows too much about us, Alayna. He knows my tendencies when it comes to Tsatsun. He knows the way that I feel inspired to help those who are helpless. He knew exactly how to counter everything that I might do. But it’s more than that. It’s that Linsay was the one who wanted us to come to Keyall.”

  Carth set another piece on the board, this one representing Keyall. She moved the pieces around and had to admit to herself that the evidence against Linsay was circumstantial, but it felt right. There were the small conversations that they had shared, each one in hindsight designed to pull more from Carth, so that the Collector would more easily be able to defeat her. Knowing one’s opponent made them an easier person to play in Tsatsun, much like it was easier to counter an opponent that she knew when fighting.

  “I hate this,” Alayna whispered.

  Carth swept the pieces off the makeshift game board and took another drink of her ale. “You’re not alone. I hate this, too.”

  “What do we do? How do you win when your position is as weak as ours is?”

  It was a difficult question, and one without a clear answer. Carth had played Tsatsun many times and had allowed herself to be positioned where she could be defeated, needing to understand the position of weakness, but it was different playing a game compared to facing someone in real life who wanted nothing more than to destroy her and those around her—or use her in the way that the Collector intended to use her.

  What she needed was someone to challenge her so that she could get a better sense of what it would take to win.

  Short of sailing far from here and finding her old Tsatsun master, there was only one option.
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  Carth stood and swept the pieces as well as the makeshift game board into her pocket.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I need to find someone to help me determine my strategy.”

  “Who?”

  “Boiyn.”

  10

  The room was small and had a medicinal stink to it. There was barely enough room for a bed and a chest at the end of it. A single candle flickered at the end of the bed. It rested on the chest and gave enough light for Carth to see Boiyn as he lay on the bed, breathing deeply.

  He opened his eyes as she stood there, and rolled his head toward her. “Thank you,” he whispered.

  She nodded. “I couldn’t leave you behind.”

  He shook his head and winced when he did. Did his head hurt, or was it pain from the burns that still troubled him? “No. I never expected you to leave anyone behind. But thank you for helping get me healed.”

  “As I said, I couldn’t leave you behind.”

  “Are we going to make a run for it?”

  She shook her head. “No. The Collector intends for me to recover the Elder Stone.”

  “He told you this? He confirmed that he was searching for an Elder Stone?”

  “He confirmed that he is searching for an item of power where he needs my assistance. Whatever it is, he can’t reach it without me.”

  “You could simply choose not to acquire this,” Boiyn said.

  “You sound like Talia.”

  He frowned.

  “She’s the woman who we chased through the city.”

  Boiyn nodded slowly. “The reason that I’m here,” he said, nodding to his injured arm. “The one who thought to explode half the city.”

  “If what she tells me is true, she did it because she wanted to weaken the Collector.”

  “And you don’t know whether you can believe her.”

  Carth took a seat at the end of the bed and looked over at Boiyn. In the candlelight, his pale skin gleamed. On anyone else, she would have suspected it to be sweat, but as far as she knew, Boiyn did not sweat. “I don’t know whether I can trust her. It’s one thing to believe her; it’s another to trust that what she’s telling me is true.”

  “Because she serves the Collector.”

  Carth nodded. “I need your help, Boiyn.”

  “You know that I will mix anything for you. You will need to restock my supplies, but I will gladly create any enhancement that you think would be beneficial in your success with this task.”

  “It’s not a concoction that will help me be successful with this task.”

  Boiyn shifted on the bed, wincing again. “Maybe that’s for the best. I don’t know how long it will be before I am up to the task of mixing enhancements again. My arm…”

  “Will heal. You will recover completely, which is a relief.”

  Boiyn smiled. “Only a relief? That’s all that you would say about it?”

  Carth shrugged. “The Collector will have known what you mean to me. Linsay will have shared with him the nature of your enhancements.” When he frowned, Carth explained Linsay’s involvement.

  “This is all too much for me to take in,” Boiyn said.

  “Which is why I need your help.”

  “I don’t know what I can do to help you, Carthenne. Anything that I could do has sunk with the ship.”

  She looked at him, holding his gaze. “It’s not what you can mix that will help me. It might not even be what you know that will help.”

  “Then what?”

  “It’s more about your mind.”

  “I thought you said it wasn’t about what I know.”

  “Not yet, but it’s what you will learn. I need your analytical mind.”

  As she pulled out her makeshift Tsatsun board and the stones that had been the pieces, Boiyn shook his head. “Not this way, Carth. I don’t think that I’m the right person for this task. Even if I could help you—”

  Carth tipped her head to the side. “You don’t think that you can help? All I’m asking is for you to provide an opinion based on movements of a game.”

  Boiyn licked his lips. “You don’t understand what you’re asking.”

  “I’m asking for your help,” she said. She held his gaze, not looking away from the strangeness of the red ringing his eyes or the pale, hairless flesh of his face. Boiyn took a deep breath, glancing at the piece of paper, and then he nodded.

  “I will try, Carthenne. For you, I will try.”

  Boiyn leaned over the paper, staring at the stones. Carth could practically see his mind working through the challenge, puzzling through the various movements. She had been methodical in teaching him how to play, giving him a foundation of movements that he could build upon, but knew that it would not take long for him to create new solutions to problems that she had not considered before. That was what she counted on. That was the mind that she needed. If she could get him to the point where he could challenge her, he would be able to force her to think in a way that she had not before. If she failed, then all of this would have been for naught and she might have to do what the Collector wanted of her.

  “The limitation on how these pieces move is what is challenging,” Boiyn said.

  Carth studied the board. In a dozen moves, possibly less, she would have Boiyn trapped and would win this round. He had played decently, but there was still quite a ways for him to go before he could pose much of a challenge to her. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe she wouldn’t be able to use him to help challenge herself.

  “The limitation is what makes it real. Not all pieces will react the same, much like not all people—or opponents—will react the same.”

  “How do you think this correlates to fighting?” Boiyn pushed one of his smaller pieces—the one that was meant to indicate the Alyr, though he wouldn’t know that, as Carth had not taken the time to teach him the names of each piece. If he continued to play when they had a formal game board, that would be the time to teach him.

  The move was a reasonable one and forced Carth into a decision. That was the key with Tsatsun. Each move required at least one decision, although some moves required multiple decisions. That triggered a cascade, each decision having an impact on another, and Carth had enough experience to play out almost all possibilities based on a single move.

  Why was it so difficult for her with the Collector?

  “Think of it this way,” Carth said, lifting the pieces and rearranging the board. “You know of the accords.”

  Boiyn nodded. “Many know of the accords. It’s because of what you did that there is a sustainable peace where there had been none.”

  Carth shifted the pieces around, setting them around the board. “This side of the board represents the Hjan. All are powerful pieces, and all of these can move in many different ways, much like the Hjan and their ability to flicker.” With their flickering, the Hjan could travel in the blink of an eye, moving from one place to another. Carth could detect that movement, noticing it as a wave of nausea that struck her when it occurred. “This side of the board would represent the A’ras. They are skilled, with the sword as well as with their connection to the flame, but alone they cannot counter the Hjan. If the board consisted of only them, they would be in danger.”

  “And what of them,” Boiyn asked, pointing to the far corner of the board. “Is that your Reshian fighters?”

  Carth nodded. The Reshian were the remainder of people with the ability to reach the shadows. Almost all of them were shadow blessed, not able to manipulate the shadows quite the way that Carth could. “With the Reshian and the A’ras, the Hjan suddenly have limitations with their movements. The accords hold, though not completely.”

  “Which is why the C’than are involved.”

  “As involved as they can be. The C’than prefer not to become too involved in anything. They prefer to watch from the sideline, which was why they were fine with me invoking them as a part of the accords.” The C’than would sit back and watch while the rest of the
world fell apart, using it as a way to study and understand.

  Much like the Collector.

  No. That line of thinking didn’t make sense. The Collector might seek power, but he sought it so that he could attack another power. It was a dangerous gambit on his part, and one that would be unlikely to be effective. The C’than wouldn’t get directly involved in that way, so regardless of how it might appear, they were not tied together.

  “With all of these here, the Hjan are neutralized. But now, you introduce another element,” Carth said, sliding another stone onto the board. “If this is the Collector, and if he’s after power for the sake of power, what happens if he tries to attack the A’ras or the Reshian? What if he doesn’t quite have enough strength to hold back the Hjan?”

  “Then the accords will fail,” Boiyn said.

  She swept the pieces off the table and arranged a new game. As they started again, she noticed Boiyn taking time to think through each move, pausing longer and longer. She took that as a good sign, knowing that if he were to engage his mind fully on playing Tsatsun, he would be a skilled player. She needed that man. She needed the potential for the skilled player. She needed his mind.

  They fell into a rhythmic sort of pattern, with Boiyn moving and Carth countering. She reacted quickly, knowing the possible moves he might make before he would make them and already preparing for the strongest all the way down to the weakest move that he could make. More and more often, Boiyn began making a stronger move.

  Until he surprised her.

  She had to pull her mind out of essentially a slumber, engaging herself in playing.

  “I feel as if I am near the Stone,” he said.

  “You have been listening,” she said.

  “I’ve listened as well as I can. I don’t know that I present you with that much of a challenge, but…” He shrugged. “It is surprising.”

  “What is surprising?”

  “That I find myself enjoying this game. That is surprising.”

  “Think of it as a game. It’s one of strategy, but it’s one that helps you understand how others think. I could play you as my original Tsatsun master and the game would be entirely different than how I play you as myself. I could play you as my parents, or some of my first A’ras instructors, or…” She smiled. Maybe she was going too far, and she doubted that he wanted to hear all that from her. “Anyway, playing Tsatsun gives you the ability to know what your opponent, or anyone else you might be interested in understanding, might do.”