Carth trembled, trying to push magic through the knife, but the connection was difficult. As tired as she was, she couldn’t reach her magic as she needed. Even were she not tired, she didn’t know if she would be able to reach the magic strongly enough to hold off the Hjan. If Invar fell so easily before him, what could she do?
“Perhaps I will bring you with me to Venass. There are many who would appreciate the opportunity to study one of the shadow blessed.”
Through the pain, she felt strength come to her, almost willed into her, the shadows filling her as they had all those years ago.
She was shadow blessed. Though she didn’t know what that meant for her, she could use those shadows now.
Unable to access her A’ras magic, she reached for the shadows and sent their power through her knife. The Hjan hesitated, flickering a moment as he moved toward her. Wrapped in the shadows as she was, she didn’t feel the same twisting nausea she’d felt before.
“You cannot hide from me for long, shadow blessed,” he taunted.
He made a movement with his hand, twisting the knives in such a way that light radiated from them and pushed against the shadows. Carth had been out of practice using them and suspected that, had she not been stuck behind the walls of the palace for all those years, she would have better learned how to use them. But now, when she wanted the control, it began to slip from her, slowly pushed away, as if it were too slippery for her to maintain.
Carth took a deep breath, ducking toward the wall of her old house. The shadows were thicker there and pulling on them was easier, letting her practically breathe them in.
The Hjan spun toward her, the light flowing from him.
Carth wouldn’t be able to hold on to the shadows for much longer, not like this.
With another breath, she sent the shadows flowing through the knife. Somehow, it seemed to mix with the A’ras magic she still managed to hold, so that when she jumped toward the Hjan, slicing with the knife, she managed to cut him on the arm.
Carth hit the ground hard and lost her breath.
She rolled to the side, scrambling to reach more shadows, but there was no need.
The Hjan had fallen, his breaths coming in strangled gasps, his hand tearing at the arm she’d cut. Carth didn’t move any closer, afraid to get too near the fallen Hjan. She watched with horrid fascination as he stabbed at his arm, digging into the flesh with one of his knives. Light flashed from it, blindingly bright.
Carth had to look away. When she turned back, he was gone.
10
Carrying Invar back to the palace took all the strength Carth had left. She reached the gate, her arm slipped behind Invar, and only because of the maroon sash around his arm did the doors open. A pair of A’ras met her on the other side, and both quickly grabbed Invar.
“What happened to Master Invar?” Trista asked. She was a lean woman with curly black hair who always seemed to thrust her chest forward as she walked, with far too much stiffness to her back, but Carth had seen her fight and knew she was as skilled with the staff she carried as any of the swordsmen were with their blades.
“An attack.”
“I can see that, Ashai Rel. What happened? How were you attacked?”
Carth wondered how much she should be sharing with them and how much she needed to save for the masters. This didn’t seem something that Invar would openly share. “I need to find Master Lyanna,” she said.
“Master Lyanna is off the grounds,” Trista answered.
“What about Avera?”
Trista glanced at the other of the A’ras, a compact man with a pocked face and a thin line for a beard around his chin. “Avera has been gone for—”
“She has not been gone. I saw her all of a few weeks ago,” Carth said.
She shouldn’t be so curt with the A’ras, especially as she was barely ashai, but exhaustion from working with Invar all day—and then the attack at the end of the day—left her with no patience for niceties.
“We can take you to Master Harrison,” the other A’ras said. He had a thick voice, one that sounded like he’d spent the day screaming while she’d spent it trying to use her magic.
Harrison. Of all the masters, she cared for him the least. Whenever he decided to come and teach the students, he always did so with an air of condescension, much like he’d had when Carth had come with news of the attack on the city. Even with Invar, Lyanna, and Erind present for the attack, Harrison still made a point of treating her as if she had fabricated much of it.
“Fine. Harrison is fine, but Invar needs help,” she snapped. “Stop delaying and bring him to the palace.”
Carth started toward the palace, not bothering to watch whether they followed. When she reached the outer entrance, she paused, waiting for the other two to catch up, knocking at the door as she did.
The massive doors to the palace swung open and Carth hurried in. The A’ras standing guard at the door only shook his head when she entered. Now that she’d been studying with Invar, she came to the palace often enough that he recognized her. She started down the hall that led toward the Master Hall without waiting for the others. Now that they had reached the palace, she knew that they would follow.
“Ms. Rel…”
She froze at the weak voice, turning carefully.
Invar’s eyes were open and he looked at her. The two A’ras carrying him both helped to prop him up, but he managed to hold on to enough strength that he was able to assist. The smaller man looked to Trista for guidance and she shrugged.
“I think I can manage now that we’re here,” Invar said, strength quickly returning. “Especially with Ms. Rel’s assistance.”
“Carth,” Trista said softly. “It appears that Master Invar no longer requires our assistance.”
Carth hurried back to him and took Trista’s place, with Invar leaning on her. The master was old and looked frail, but he weighed more than she’d expected when she had first started carrying him back to the palace. After all the effort she’d expended just getting him back here, she barely had the strength to keep him upright.
“Master Invar…”
“I can help this time,” Invar said. He straightened somewhat and took some of the effort onto himself .
After Trista and the other A’ras left, he pulled on a surge of power that allowed him to stand up with more strength than Carth would have expected. She took a step away from him, thinking that he didn’t need her help anymore, but he clasped a hand on her arm to prevent her from getting too far.
“Are you hurt?” Carth asked as they made their way down the corridor to the Master Hall. Carth had been here only twice, but she could trace the steps in her mind.
Invar took a deep breath and with each step, he seemed stronger than the one before. “Less than I should be, I think,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
Invar paused at the entrance to the Master Hall, his hand resting on the door. He surged power through it with more strength than Carth could imagine using after everything she’d done during the day. The door swung open and he nodded for her to continue helping him in.
None of the other masters were here. The lantern she’d seen when she had come before remained burning.
She stopped in front of the lantern, holding her hands out in front of it, but found that it wasn’t nearly as warm as she would have expected.
“Ms. Rel,” Invar said.
She shook herself and turned to help him as he took a seat in one of the chairs. “I’m sorry. The lantern…”
He gave her a quizzical expression. “You really are perceptive, aren’t you?”
“What do you mean?”
He shook his head. “Perhaps it is nothing. Tell me,” he said, settling his hands on his thighs and leaning slightly forward, “how is it that I still live?”
“The Hjan attacked.”
“I am aware that the Hjan attacked,” Invar said. “I seem to recall that I was there, however briefly that might have been.”
He tried to smile, but it failed.
It was only then that Carth realized how exhausted he was. Here she’d thought that he managed more strength than she did, marveling at how he used his power to prop himself up and to send the necessary surge of power through the door to open it. But he had used all of his remaining strength to open the door, she suspected. The sense of him pulling on his magic faded, and the feeling of it burning through her disappeared with it.
“What I do not understand—but would like to—is how I am still here.”
“I don’t know,” Carth said.
“Don’t know, or don’t wish to share?” Invar sighed and leaned back in the chair, letting his eyes fall closed. “I have faced the Hjan several times before, Ms. Rel. There has never been a time when I felt quite so unprepared. They continue to develop new techniques, I fear.”
“What happened?”
Invar sighed. “He extinguished the magic burning within me, Ms. Rel.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You are not yet fully A’ras.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
Invar opened his eyes. “It has to do with everything, especially when it comes to the Hjan.” He settled himself in the chair, shifting side to side until he was comfortable. “What I will tell you is normally only shared with the A’ras, but seeing as how you saved me, and how you seem to find yourself around the Hjan more often than most, I think it is prudent that you know more about what you face.” His gaze drifted toward the massive lantern burning in the center of the room. “When you call upon A’ras magic, what does it feel like?”
Carth frowned. Was this another lesson? If it was, the timing seemed strange, especially with what they had both gone through. “I’ve told you what it feels like,” she said.
“No. You have told me what it is like when you call on the magic, but what does it feel like?”
“Fire,” she answered immediately. That had always been the case, from the very beginning of her awareness of the A’ras magic. It had always felt like fire to her. First when she detected it, and then when she began to use it.
“Interesting description, Ms. Rel, and I am not sure others would describe it in the same way.” He started to smile and shook his head. “To some, it would seem like heat, or warmth.”
“How is that different from fire?”
“Place your hand in a hearth and tell me how they are different. They are part of the same spectrum, but they are not the same. Not for most, at least.”
He leaned back and didn’t say anything for a while. “What is it like when you use your magic?” Carth asked.
“Fire,” Invar said softly. “Which was why, when he extinguished it, I thought myself dead. Yet I am not, thanks to an ashai.”
“I don’t know what I did,” she said.
“I do not think that likely. I thank you for whatever you did nonetheless.”
Carth thought of how she’d used the shadows, how she’d felt the shadows surging through her, filling her. Only through the strength given her by the shadows had she managed to carry Invar back to the palace, but as soon as she’d crossed the palace walls, that connection had faded, disappearing completely.
“What happened to the Hjan?” Invar asked. “Did you kill him?”
She shook her head. “He escaped.”
Somehow, she had used the shadows as she’d attacked the Hjan. She had nearly killed him—she realized that now—but he had used the light he’d managed to summon with his knives to burn away the shadows she’d used against him.
“A shame. I think I would have preferred him dead.”
“He’s the same man who attacked the wall,” Carth said.
“I thought as much.” He fell silent for a moment before opening his eyes again and fixing her with the intense stare. “The house where we found him. You knew it, didn’t you?”
“I knew it.”
“It was your home?”
She swallowed. “The last home I had,” she said. “Before… before Felyn killed my parents.”
“What would compel him to visit that place?”
“I don’t know. Another family lives there—at least they did within months of my parents’ deaths.”
“That is the way of things in Nyaesh,” Invar said. “Everywhere, I suppose, but Nyaesh especially. There is a shortage of homes, and when they become available, whether by tragedy or other means, there are plenty of others waiting to move in. After he attacked where you were found twice, it does make me wonder whether he went to your old home thinking to find out something about you.”
“There’s nothing about me he would want to know.”
Invar tipped his head and a hint of a smile played across his lips. “No? Perhaps he would like to know the same thing I would like to know—how an untrained ashai managed to withstand an attack from the Hjan not once, not twice, but three times.”
Carth turned her attention to the flame burning in the lantern, losing herself in the way it danced and flickered. “I didn’t withstand anything,” she said. “I got lucky.”
Invar leaned back and let out a sigh. “One time would be luck. Twice even. Three times tells me there is something about you that I don’t fully understand. Not only can you detect A’ras magic with more sensitivity than most within these walls, but you were able to tell when one of the Hjan appeared, something not even the masters can manage without expending significant power.” He breathed out. “I think that I will need to study you longer, Ms. Rel. For now, I would like to rest.”
His breathing slowed and became regular as he fell into a slumber. Carth watched him for a moment, then started from the hall. The lantern caught her attention and she turned to it, staring into the flames.
Invar had asked her what the magic felt like for her, and she’d described it as fire. For her, it was fire. Could others really detect it as warmth and heat? That sounded almost… pleasant. Nothing like the pain she experienced when she detected the magic.
Carth reached toward the flame, holding her hand out to it. There was warmth to it, and she wasn’t able to get her hand very close without feeling it grow too hot. It pulled on something inside her that reminded her of when magic flowed, not only from within her, but also when others used their magic.
Invar shifted in his sleep and Carth turned, mistakenly grabbing for the lantern as she did.
She jerked her hand up so that she didn’t touch the lantern, but as she did, her hand passed through the flame. Carth sucked in a breath as she pulled her hand back, looking to see if she’d disturbed Invar, but the master remained asleep.
Clutching her hand in her cloak, she ran toward the door. Pain throbbed through her. She wanted nothing more than to scream, but she’d have to do it outside. She didn’t want to explain to Invar what had happened.
After everything that had happened today, after surviving an attack from one of the Hjan, she’d get injured this way?
Carth felt like a fool.
Worse, as she started from the room, Invar muttered something in his sleep, and she could have sworn she’d heard him say her name, and something about the shadows.
Carth hurried from the hall, and as she did, the pain in her hand throbbed in time with what she remembered of the flame. She tried not to think about it as she made her way back to the cosak and, hopefully, to find sleep.
11
Food called to her before sleep. Carth reached the dining hall and found it sparsely populated, which, given the throbbing in her hand, which she’d wrapped with her maroon sash, was probably the best thing. Her stomach rumbled and she hurried to the kitchen to grab a tray, stacking bread onto her tray and scooping stew into a bowl. When she returned to the dining hall, it was no longer empty.
Landon sat at one of the tables and eyed her as soon as she entered. She made her way toward the back of the dining hall, not wanting to deal with him, and sat. The sooner she managed to eat, the sooner she would be able to get back to her room and sleep
.
The throbbing in her hand forced her to use the other, and she kept her injured hand under the table as she ate. She dipped the bread into the stew and chewed quickly, ignoring the fact that it had cooled, leaving fat congealing on the surface.
A shadow passed in front of her and she almost tried reaching for it. “What happened to you?” Landon asked, throwing himself onto the chair opposite her.
“Nothing happened.”
“I saw how you wrapped your hand. You were out with Master Invar today. What happened?”
Carth looked up from her tray, debating what to share with him, if anything. Landon didn’t need to know what had happened and would likely only spread gossip about her, if that wasn’t happening already, especially after the way she’d forced herself back onto the grounds.
“I was out with Invar. There was another attack.”
Landon’s brow furrowed. “An attack? We didn’t hear anything about it while I was on patrol.”
“You probably wouldn’t have,” Carth agreed.
Landon set his hands on the table and leaned back. “What kind of attack? No one is stupid enough to risk attacking one of the A’ras masters in the middle of Nyaesh.”
“The Hjan are,” Carth said. Had she only been faster, she might have managed to stop it, but instead, she’d delayed, thinking he was gone when he wasn’t. Now the Hjan still lived and likely would return, better prepared to face her the next time. Without any way to practice using the shadows, Carth worried about what would happen to her with the next attack.
Everything they’d seen so far told her there would be another.
Invar seemed to know more than he shared with her, and she wondered what more he knew about why the Hjan risked attacking in Nyaesh. They couldn’t expect to defeat all of the A’ras, could they?
“Master Harrison claims the Hjan aren’t the real threat.”
Carth frowned. “You heard him say that?” she demanded.
Landon met her eyes and shook his head slightly. “I didn’t, but Olar did.”
Shadow Cursed (The Shadow Accords Book 2) Page 8
