Elocien coughed. "You two have a lot to catch up on," he observed. He gripped Wirr by the shoulder. "I have other matters that need seeing to right now, but you can stay for a while, talk. Once people know you're back, your movements are going to be watched fairly closely. You may not get an opportunity like this for some time."
Wirr nodded, rising and embracing his father. “It’s good to see you.”
Elocien smiled at his son. “You too.”
"Elocien," Asha called out before he departed. "Can I tell him...."
Elocien gave her a slight nod. "That's fine." He left.
Once his father was gone, Wirr turned back to Asha, a wide smile on his face. For the first time in a long time, his heart was light.
"Now," he said, still grinning. "Tell me everything."
- Chapter 42 -
Caeden shuffled his feet, unable to hide his discomfort.
He glanced again around the spacious, well-lit room, its luxurious furnishings just as intimidating as the other finery he'd seen on his way into the palace. Aelric reclined in a well-cushioned chair in the corner, looking relaxed. Taeris was also seated but in stark contrast to Aelric was visibly tense, leaning forward and staring absently at the thick carpet, his shoulders hunched.
Caeden understood his apprehension. Their entrance to the palace had gone surprisingly smoothly once Aelric had vouched for them at the gate, but that had been the easy part. Now they needed Karaliene herself - Karaliene, who had so obviously mistrusted them in Thrindar - to believe them. To help them, rather than turn them over to Administration. Even given Aelric and Dezia's relationship with the princess, Caeden still expected armed guards to burst through the door and arrest them at any moment. From the way Taeris looked, Caeden suspected the older man felt the same way.
The rattle of the doorknob turning made him flinch, and he straightened as Taeris and Aelric both rose. The other two men bowed as Karaliene slipped into the room, alone; after a moment of relief Caeden quickly, awkwardly copied them.
There was silence for a few seconds as the princess studied he and Taeris, and Caeden flushed beneath her disapproving gaze. Even so, just as he had at Thrindar, he couldn't help but stare a little too. It wasn't just that Karaliene was attractive - though she undoubtedly was, and he was far from blind to the fact. But she had a... presence. A way of commanding the attention of everyone in the room, just by being in it, that Caeden found more than a little mesmerizing.
He dropped his eyes again before his staring became too obvious, and Karaliene fortunately didn't seem to have noticed. She sat, gesturing for the others to do the same.
"I cannot stay long, but I wish to make one thing clear before we begin," said the princess to them as they took their seats. "I am here because people I trust believe you can help fight the Blind. That does not equate to me trusting you." She tapped her teeth with a manicured fingernail, watching them intently. "Now. My understanding is that Tol Athian's Council are refusing to help you, and that you would like me to use my influence to see if their minds can be changed. Is this correct?"
Taeris blinked, looking a little taken aback at Karaliene's straightforwardness. "It is, Your Highness."
Karaliene hesitated, glancing across at Aelric for a moment before continuing. "I am willing to do this," she said, her tone heavy with reluctance. "My name would not be directly involved, but some of the Houses have been trying to gain my favour for a while now. I can think of at least one that has a loose alliance with Athian, and would be willing to pressure the Council to help you, without asking too many questions about who you are."
"Of course, Your Highness," said Taeris quickly. "I can't tell you how -"
Karaliene held up a hand, forestalling him. "I haven't finished. There are conditions." She looked Taeris in the eye. "Fortunately, I have had your... past explained to me. That, and the fact that you warned us about the Boundary before anyone had even heard of the Blind, is in your favour. I am satisfied that you are truly here to help."
Taeris' eyes betrayed a glimmer of surprise, but he nodded in mute acknowledgement.
Karaliene's gaze hardened as it switched to Caeden, who shrunk a little beneath it. "Your companion, on the other hand, remains a mystery. He has been accused of a terrible crime, regardless of where it was committed - and there has been no evidence to suggest that he was not the perpetrator, not even from his own lips. I am taking an enormous risk letting a man like that into my city, regardless of who has vouched for him. As such, I will require something more from him." Her tone was cold, and she still addressed her words to Taeris, as if even speaking to Caeden was distasteful to her.
Caeden stared at the ground, swallowing. It was harsh treatment, but for all he knew it could be justified. "I am willing to do whatever you need of me, Your Highness," he said, keeping his tone meek. If they could not convince the princess to help them, their chances of making any progress with the Tol were slim.
Karaliene nodded, then walked over to her desk, picking something up out of one of the drawers. Caeden paled as he recognised the black torc in her hand.
"You want me to wear a Shackle," he said quietly.
"Yes. And I will be the one to bind you," replied Karaliene, looking him in the eye. "Other people have vouched for you, believe you could be the key to defeating the Blind - and they may well be right. But ultimately, I am the one giving you refuge here. You're my responsibility while you are in Ilin Illan." She arched an eyebrow at him. "So these are my terms. You will wear the Shackle, and under no circumstances will you leave the palace grounds without my express permission. Agreed?"
Caeden hesitated. He knew there was little choice in the matter, knew that they were beyond fortunate to have the princess' help at all. But the thought of putting a Shackle on again made him cringe.
And... it would mean he had no way to slip out, no way to speak to Havran Das without the princess knowing he had left.
Eventually, though, he took a deep breath and bared his left forearm, holding it out towards Karaliene.
"Agreed."
The princess examined him for a moment longer, and his breath caught as he locked gazes with her. Her expression became a hint more disapproving after a second, and Caeden reddened as he realised he was staring again; he looked away awkwardly only to blush further as he saw Aelric glaring at him from the side. He finally fixed his eyes firmly on the ground, flinching as Karaliene touched the cold metal to his forearm.
The black metal turned to liquid, slithering and moulding itself to his skin. The world immediately seemed duller, more grey, as if some of the colour had been leeched out of it. Caeden sighed, then smoothed down his sleeve again.
Karaliene paused, then gave a satisfied nod. "I can feel the link."
Then she turned back to Taeris, evidently done with Caeden. "You may stay here too, if you wish - there are few enough Administrators around, so it's as safe a place for you as any. You should both be able to pass as servants; I'll have someone organise quarters and some appropriate clothes. Use the servants' entrance if you want to come and go without attracting too much attention. Just don't wander too far into the main parts of the palace, and try to keep your excursions to the evenings, when there are fewer people about. If an Administrator does happen to recognise you, there will be nothing more I can do to help you."
"Understood. Thank-you, Your Highness," said Taeris.
Karaliene inclined her head and then glanced across at Aelric, who was still scowling at Caeden. "Aelric. Can you please show these two to the east wing, and have Bacira make up some quarters there - maybe use the rooms near the gardens that 'Zia and I sometimes use for study? They're near enough to the other servants to not arouse suspicion, but isolated enough that no-one should really notice that they are being occupied."
Aelric finally tore his gaze from Caeden, bowing to the princess. "Of course, Your Highness."
Karaliene rose, and the three men stood in deference. The princess' eyes again met Caeden's for an inst
ant, and again his stomach fluttered. He looked to the side straight away this time, inwardly cursing himself. Reactions like that could only land him in trouble here.
Oblivious to Caeden's thoughts, Karaliene gave them all a tight nod.
"I'll set things in motion," she said to Taeris. She slipped out the door.
There was silence for a moment, and then Aelric gestured to the hallway. "We should get moving. The quicker we get to the servants' wing, the less likely you are to be spotted," he said, eyes hardening a little when he looked at Caeden.
Caeden flushed again, but nodded. He and Taeris exchanged relieved glances that things had gone so smoothly, and then they trailed after Aelric.
***
Caeden lay on his new bed, staring at the ceiling.
He’d been trying to sleep for hours now, battling both the warm evening and his own frustrations in search of rest. A breeze sighed through the open window, providing momentary relief from the heat and accompanied by the distant murmuring of the city below. It was well past midnight by his reckoning, but from the sounds of it, Ilin Illan was far from asleep too.
Despite it being only his first night at the palace, this new situation was already beginning to chafe at him. It would take time for Karaliene's political machinations to achieve anything at the Tol, and Caeden accepted that. But that didn't mean he should be sitting idle. He felt sure he could be doing something – anything other than just lying around, hoping that either Taeris or the princess could eventually convince the Council to help him.
He stared out the window and pondered again how best to contact Havran Das, the merchant Alaris had talked about. He'd ventured outside his room earlier for some fresh air and taken careful note of the guards' routine patrols, even spotting a small supply gate he thought would be unattended at night. The only other brief excursion from his quarters had been to the library, where, much to his delight, he’d found more detailed maps of Ilin Illan than he’d had time to look over.
Havran Das’ store had been easy to locate - it was clearly marked, large and in the upper city, quite close to the palace itself. An influential and successful man, then. Caeden didn’t know whether that made him feel better or more nervous.... but for the moment, it barely mattered. All the information he'd gathered was useless if he couldn’t find a way to slip his Shackle.
He sighed, staring resentfully at the black metal sitting snug around his arm, a constant reminder that Karaliene could pinpoint his location at any time. For all the finery around him, he was effectively just a prisoner once more.
He gave the Shackle a gentle tap, wondering if there was any way to remove it. Nothing happened except for a slight metallic ring. He closed his eyes, concentrating, trying to will it to fall off. He wanted it gone, needed it gone, so he could find out who he really was.
Still nothing. He grimaced, opening his eyes again and gazing morosely at the ceiling. Travelling here, he’d felt like he had a greater purpose; the blazing light of his tattoo and the sense of urgency Taeris had lent their journey had done little to dampen that. But he was isolated here in his room, the time already beginning to drag - and with the Vessel now secured in Tol Athian, his tattoo gave off only a dull, flickering glow. It all combined to make him feel cast adrift, like his opportunity to get answers was starting to slip away.
The need to take action settled in his stomach, almost painful. He was tired; he should just try to sleep. Everything would seem less upsetting come morning.
But the knowledge remained that even if he felt better then, he would still be no closer to understanding who he was. What his purpose was in all of this. He gritted his teeth as the frustration built in his chest, intense and hard.
The Shackle retracted, dropping noiselessly from his arm and onto the quilt.
Caeden stared at it, stunned, for a few moments. It had come off. He’d done it, though he had no idea how.
Then he felt a flash of panic. Karaliene would know. Wouldn’t she? The princess was most probably asleep at this hour; perhaps it would go unnoticed, at least for a time.
He waited in the darkness, frozen to the spot for several minutes, listening for the sound of soldiers rushing to his door. No-one came. Gradually he relaxed, sitting up on the bed and staring at the Shackle. He could try putting it back on, but he had no idea when – if ever – he’d be able to take it off again.
And even if he was able to reactivate it, he doubted it would still be linked to Karaliene. This might be his only opportunity to act before his newest custodian realised something was amiss.
Heart pounding, he fumbled around in the darkness for his clothes. Once dressed he slipped out into the corridor, nerves taut as he strained for any sign of discovery.
The hallways were all but empty at this hour and he made quick time, soon locating an exit to the palace grounds that he thought would be unguarded. Holding his breath, he cracked the door open, waiting for a shout to indicate he’d been mistaken.
There was only silence, with the occasional snatch of city noise in the background. He slipped through and gently shut the door behind him.
The thick shrubbery and moonless night made staying out of sight relatively easy, much to his relief. He secreted himself behind some bushes, keeping his breathing calm and steady, straining for the sound of the next patrol. Once, he thought he heard a noise behind him – the crunch of leaves underfoot, perhaps – but when he spun, there was no-one there, and he put it down to his imagination.
Minutes passed, and finally the orange flame of a torch began bobbing towards him. He held his breath as two guards walked past his hiding spot, both looking alert but neither showing signs of having spotted anything unusual.
Then they were past. Forcing his legs to move he dashed forward, staying low and ready to dive into cover at the first sign of another patrol. He arrived at the supply gate to find that it was much as he’d hoped, secured from the inside with a solid latch but without needing a key.
He opened it cautiously, then used a sliver of Essence – so small it would surely be undetectable – to hold the latch up, leaving the gate accessible from outside. By his estimate, the Essence wouldn’t decay for at least a few hours. To a casual glance from any passing patrols, though, nothing would seem amiss.
He slipped out into a side alley, unlit and without shops or buildings of any kind. He kept his pace steady as he walked towards the main street, trying not to run despite his instincts. If anyone saw him, he wanted to look as innocuous as possible.
At the end of the alleyway he stopped, mentally revisiting the route he needed to take as he peered cautiously around the corner. In the distance he could see the four men standing guard in front of the palace's main gate, from their body language more bored than anything else. That was good. The last thing he needed was to be challenged by an overzealous sentry.
He waited for a few moments until he thought none were looking in his direction, then exited the alley and began walking away, keeping to the shadows where possible. He didn’t look back, and there were no shouts from behind him.
Caeden's racing heartbeat slowed a little once the palace was lost to view, though he remained tense as he hurried along. Despite the late hour, several buildings still had windows illuminated, and he overheard more than one heated conversation emanating from the grounds of Ilin Illan's wealthiest residents. He couldn't make out the specifics of any of them, but the entire city just felt... uneasy.
He soon arrived at Havran Das’ shopfront. He considered the building for a few minutes; the street was well-lit, so there was little chance of him breaking in unnoticed. However there did appear to be an upper floor to the shop - it was possible Das lived here as well as traded.
Taking a deep breath, Caeden walked up to the door and rapped on it as loudly as he dared.
He stood in silence for what seemed like minutes; he was almost about to leave when the sound of a bolt being slid back echoed around the street, and the door opened a crack. A bespectacled, middle-
aged man peered out at him.
“What do you want, lad?” he asked sharply. “Do you know what hour it is?”
Caeden gave a nervous cough. “I’m looking for Havran Das.”
The man stared at him for a moment, sizing him up. Evidently deciding Caeden did not pose much of a threat, he opened the door a little wider. “I am Havran Das,” he said, suspicion thick in his tone. “Who in fates are you?”
“My name is Caeden.” When the man still stared at him blankly, he added, “Alaris said you would be expecting me.”
Havran took an unconscious step back at the last part, his entire demeanour changing. He smiled, but for a moment Caeden saw a combination of fascination and fear in the merchant's eyes.
“Of course. Of course,” Havran said, opening the door wide and gesturing for Caeden to enter. “Please. Come in.”
Caeden did as he was asked, and the other man shut the door behind him, sliding the bolt back into place. He held his candle high, providing enough light for Caeden to navigate between the shelves of bottles. Finally they came to the back of the shop, where Havran indicated he should take a seat at a long table. Caeden did so uncertainly, still not sure what to expect from this meeting.
“So,” said Havran as he sat opposite. “Alaris told me a little about your situation, but even he didn’t know much. He certainly didn’t tell me you would be in this body. Perhaps if -”
It was the slightest flicker of the eye, from Caeden’s face to over his shoulder. If Caeden's senses had not already been so heightened from nervousness, he might not have noticed it at all.
As it was, he reacted on instinct, spinning to the side and to his feet.
A blade cleaved the air where he had just been sitting, splintering the chair in two.
Caeden moved without thinking, elbowing his would-be attacker in the face. He heard the crunching sound of a nose breaking but didn't pause, allowing his momentum to take him behind the armoured man’s back. In one smooth motion he grabbed both sides of the assassin's helmetless head and twisted it as hard as he could, downward and to the side.
The Shadow Of What Was Lost (Book 1) Page 52
