by Callie Kanno
“Excuse me, m’lady, are you lost?”
The man was slender and had a thick beard covering half of his face. Adesina frowned at him, searching her memory to discover why he looked so familiar. Her thoughts were quickly pulled back to the Dream as she watched the memory unfold.
The woman was startled and looked at the group of men nervously. “No, I was just on my way home.”
The man looked amused. “There is nothing for miles, m’lady. Surely you will not get home tonight.”
The other five men moved their horses to surround the L’avan. Adesina wanted to shout a warning, but she knew it would do no good.
“My husband is not far,” stammered E’rian.
Adesina knew what was coming and could not bear to watch. She clenched her eyes shut, wishing she could shut out the noise as well. There was the sound of a struggle and E’rian’s screams, then everything went quiet. When the observer opened her eyes, she saw that it had also gone dark.
“What happened?” she asked her mother.
“I was taken far away. I remember little of the journey, only that it took a long time.”
Her daughter forced out the words, “Then what?”
“Watch.”
They were in a dimly lit stone dungeon. E’rian’s dress was reduced to rags and she was covered in blood and dirt. She lay shivering on a pile of moldy straw, her arms wrapped around her swollen abdomen.
“She is very weak,” commented a cold, calculating voice from the shadows. Adesina found it disturbingly familiar.
“Yes, but the child will survive. Is that not what you wanted?”
E’rian’s emaciated arms tightened around her stomach.
“Yes, the child will be very valuable. You have done well, Breyen.”
The two voices stepped into the light, revealing their faces to the Shimat observer and her guide.
“Do not forget your promise, Signe.”
An arctic smile passed over the lips that Adesina knew well. The lips that had spoken guidance and directed her throughout her childhood. The lips that had sung lullabies when she couldn’t sleep. The lips that had spun a web of tales that she had always been so desperate to believe.
“Do not worry, Breyen. The possession of a L’avan child ensures me the position of Sharifal. Such a gift will not go unrewarded.”
“I want a part in the experiments, Signe. I want a part in the child’s upbringing.”
Signe inclined her head. “I would not entrust it’s training to anyone else.”
There was another shift in E’rian’s memory. It wasn’t a significant passage of time, but the setting was dramatically different. The dungeon was filled with the L’avan’s moans of pain, and there was a bustle of activity around her.
The cry of an infant rent the air and Signe stepped forward impatiently. “Well?”
“A girl. She seems healthy enough.”
Signe held out her hands imperiously. “Give it to me.”
“No!” E’rian cried weakly.
The Shimat leader’s face was contorted with a sneer. “Kill the witch. She has served her purpose.”
A masked guard stepped forward, drawing a knife. The young mother threw a panicked glance at the dagger and then fixed her gaze on her newborn daughter, her eyes glowing with vyala. Then, using the last of her life force, she used an old form of magic—her last resort to protect her daughter from such dangerous enemies.
“Her father will come for her!”
Somehow, Adesina instinctively knew what had happened in that moment. The declaration was E’rian’s dying breath, but it would create a connection between father and daughter that would ensure that they would someday find each other. It would feel like a compulsion to search for the other, and it would lead them to decisions that would help to reunite their paths.
Adesina could almost see E’rian’s spirit leave her body. The guard looked disappointed that he had lost the opportunity to kill the “witch” himself, and Signe looked supremely disinterested. She only had eyes for the infant in her arms: a weapon waiting to be shaped.
She turned and walked out of the dungeon, leaving the servants to deal with the corpse.
***
Adesina was silent.
She hadn’t spoken since she had been pulled into a Dream the previous night. Ravi and E’nes stayed close to her trying to give her some emotional support as she grappled with the devastating history she had seen. They did not ask any questions, which the young woman appreciated.
She lay beside the fire, curled up in a ball. Her head rested in the curve of Ravi’s body and E’nes sat absently toying with a strand of her hair. She found their proximity comforting.
“Ravi?” she asked softly.
Her guardian lowered his head closer to hers. “Yes, Ma’eve?”
“Is it possible for a Dream to be a lie?” She held her breath as she waited for him to answer, not knowing what response she feared more.
“No, dear one,” he said gently, “Dreams never lie.”
Her fists clenched tightly, and her brother placed a comforting hand over hers. She automatically flinched away from his touch and his arm retreated. She regretted her reaction, but was too proud to reach out to him. Instead, she hugged herself more closely and shut her eyes against the tears she felt forming.
“It cannot be true,” she said more to herself than to anyone else.
She couldn’t believe it. She didn’t want to believe it. And yet, as Ravi had said, it could not be a lie.
The people she had always felt closest to were murderers and liars. She felt she was more alone than ever. For as long as she could remember, Adesina had taken great comfort in the solidity of the Shimat order. There were rules and regulations; everything was consistent and unflinching. It was something that could always be counted on, and it was something of which she was a part. No matter how many questions had plagued Adesina’s mind, of that she had been sure.
In the times when Basha, her oldest enemy, would persecute her or make dishonorable decisions, Adesina comforted herself in knowing that Basha would never be among the great Shimat. That Basha, who saw no good in the world and gave back even less than that, would never rise above the mediocre Shimat because she lacked that higher vision that set the Shimat apart from the rest of the world.
The Shimat had been something elite in Adesina’s eyes. They were the peacekeepers, the silent heroes, the shadows that allowed the light to exist.
But now…
Now she saw them for what they truly were. Now she had seen things through her mother’s eyes.
“They took her,” she whispered, “and they beat her so badly she could not move. They did not care if she lived or died, just as long as they got what they wanted.”
E’nes frowned. “Who?”
“The Shimat took our mother.”
He cringed at her words, as if they had physically seared him. “You saw all of that?”
She nodded. “Mother showed me her memories.”
Her brother did his best to hide his tears. He passed a hand over his eyes, as if shading them from the light of the campfire. “Father was frantic when she disappeared. He spent more than a year searching for the two of you. I rarely saw him during that time, and it felt as if I had lost both of my parents.”
For the first time, Adesina stopped thinking of her own pain and turned her thoughts to her brother. She pushed herself into a sitting position and looked at him with sympathy in her eyes. “Where did you live while he was gone?”
“With our grandparents,” he replied. “Our father’s parents. I grew very close to Ri’sel during that time. He became like a second father to me.”
She searched for the right words to say in a situation such as this. “I am sorry. For me, growing up without parents was simply how things were. No one around me had family either, so it was accepted as normal. It must have been harder for you because you could remember what it was like to have a mother and father.”
&nb
sp; “I do not blame him,” E’nes insisted hastily, almost as if he were trying to convince himself of the statement. “I would do the same for those I loved.”
Ravi said what neither sibling wanted to say. “Still, he should not have forgotten his son in his search for his daughter.”
The silence that followed was heavy, only broken by the crackling of the wood on the fire. Adesina slowly laid back down, but kept her eyes wide open.
“You should rest, Ma’eve,” the Rashad advised. “Go to sleep and relieve your mind from troubling thoughts.”
She shook her head. “I cannot sleep. I am afraid I will Dream again.”
He sighed as if the weight of the world lay on his shoulders. “I know that fear well, dear one.”
Adesina lifted her head to look him in the eye. “What do you do, then?”
A sad smile brushed his lips. “I go to sleep anyway. The Dreams come whether we want them to or not. They give us the knowledge we need to make the choices we must.”
These words sunk in as she laid her head back down. Reluctantly, fearfully, she closed her eyes and let the Dream take her.
Chapter Twenty-six: Shadows of the Past
Adesina was standing in the Garden again. E’rian sat at the edge of the fountain, trailing her fingers through the crystal water. She glanced up at her daughter, looking sad.
“So, you have come again.”
The young woman nodded. “I did not really have a choice in the matter.”
E’rian got to her feet and hesitantly approached her daughter. Her voice trembled with emotion. “I am sorry to cause you such pain, Ma’eve.”
She shook her head adamantly. “No, it is not your fault.”
Her mother sighed softly. “I wanted you to have the truth.”
“I know,” she said, “and I am grateful for that.”
A questioning glint appeared in E’rian’s eyes. “But?”
Adesina felt tears welling up in her eyes, but for the first time since becoming a Shi, she didn’t care. “I do not understand. I thought Signe was a good woman. I thought the Shimat…” She trailed off, shaking her head and angrily wiping her eyes.
E’rian embraced her daughter. She considered the choice before her of how to best ease Adesina’s mind. “Ma’eve, I wish I could simply soothe you with kind words, but that will not help you to heal. The only thing that will allow you to overcome this hardship is the truth, even if you do not want it.”
Her daughter nodded immediately. “I do want the truth.”
She looked closely into her eyes. “It will not be easy to accept. It will be a painful experience, but with the truth you can learn to move on.”
Adesina paused, making sure that this was really what she wanted. “I want to know everything.”
E’rian took her daughter by the hand. “Come with me.”
She was startled by her mother’s determined tone. “Where are we going?”
“We are going to visit those who can give you the answers you seek.”
They walked from the Garden to a door in the white marble corridor that lay beyond. The wood of the door was ornately carved with vines and flowers. The latch had a silver bird with delicate wings and glittering jewels for eyes. E’rian placed her hand on its finely wrought body and lifted, pushing the door open.
The room beyond was dimly lit, with the fireplace as the only source of light. The walls were covered in weapons arranged in various designs, and the large table in the center of the room was overspread with maps.
Adesina lowered her voice, even though she wasn’t quite sure why. “What are we doing here?”
E’rian held up a finger, urging patience.
A burly man sat in a large velvet armchair, watching their entrance. He had a dark complexion and was dressed in a strange fashion. There were ruffles on the edges of the clothing and quite a bit of gathered fabric. It reminded Adesina of one of the few illustrations found in one of the history books she had read in the Shimat library.
“What do you want?” he asked in a voice that was rough but not unfriendly.
E’rian smiled at his abrupt manner. “We need one of your memories.”
The man nodded in understanding. “Which one?”
“The night you were executed.”
His features darkened in anger. “Ah.”
He stood and set aside the book he had been holding in his lap. Adesina appraised him as he approached. He was much taller than she anticipated, and he held himself like a warrior. He stopped a couple of feet away from Adesina and held out his hand. E’rian gestured her daughter forward with an encouraging expression on her face.
The young woman took his hand, momentarily surprised by his gentle grip. There was a pause before a flash of light enveloped her vision and she felt a strange tingling pass through her body. When the light disappeared again, they were no longer standing in the room to which E’rian had led her. Adesina looked at her surroundings in confusion.
They stood together, still clasping hands, in what appeared to be the attic of a derelict house. E’rian was nowhere to be seen, which caused Adesina some alarm. She glanced towards the windows in an attempt to ascertain where they were, but the windows were boarded shut.
“Where are we?” she demanded of the burly man grasping her hand.
He looked around the room, his face filled with emotion. “We are inside my memory.”
She tried to pull her hand out of his, but he tightened his grip. “Do not break the connection, or you will be pulled out of my memory.”
One large candle flickered in the center of the room, but its light was hardly adequate. It took Adesina’s eyes a moment to separate the flickering shadows around her. To her dismay, she discovered that they were not alone in the room.
There were several figures wearing black cloaks with the hoods pulled down to hide their faces. They stood in a semicircle on one side of the room, while the other side held only three shadowed figures.
“Do you know why you are here?” asked the foremost of the three silhouettes. It was a deep, commanding voice, pronouncing each word in clipped tones.
“No, your Majesty,” replied one in the semicircle.
The tension in the room jumped even higher as the figure was given a title. It was as if they didn’t want to acknowledge whose presence they were in.
Adesina frowned in confusion. “Can they not see us?” she asked her guide.
The man shook his head, but said nothing. She looked around, trying to piece together what was going on. There were very few monarchies left in the world, and those remaining had practically been reduced to feudal lords. That meant that this memory must have taken place several hundred years ago. Her line of thinking was interrupted by the king’s overbearing voice.
“You who are gathered here are the best assassins in the realm. What is more impressive is that you are also the least known. Your skill in being undetected goes beyond your work; so much so that, to the civilized world, none of you exist.”
The figures in the semicircle shifted restlessly. They already knew this.
The king puffed out his chest in self-importance. “For this reason, I propose an alliance.”
A surprised pause followed this declaration. One of the forms across the room sneered. “Why would we want an alliance with you?”
“And more importantly,” inserted another shadow, “why would you want an alliance with us?”
The monarch let those questions linger for dramatic effect. “I offer you permanent amnesty and generous funding in exchange for your exclusive services and pledged loyalty.”
The air was filled with a mixture of emotions: surprise, apprehension, irritation, and cautious excitement. It was a while before the silence was broken.
The sneering silhouette shook his head. “I will not be the king’s dog.”
He twitched aside the corner of his cloak and swept out of the room. Several others followed him, but the remaining six shadows stood in a thoughtful silen
ce.
“Is this to be a written contract?” asked one of the remaining shadows.
Adesina could hear the grim smile in the king’s voice. “I would prefer to have as little documentation in this affair as possible.”
Another voice spoke, this one female. “Who else is to know about this?”
He made a circling gesture. “Only those of us in this room.”
“None of your counselors or military leaders are privy to this endeavor?” she asked curiously.
The king’s tone became a touch sharper. “That is what I said.”
“How long is this arrangement to continue?” asked another shadow.
The ruler’s voice was unflinching. “As long as I and my posterity are living.”
Each of the six remaining shadows considered the offer for several minutes. Then, one by one, they got on their knees and pledged their loyalty to the king. Adesina strained to hear the words they spoke, but the memory had taken on a fuzzy quality.
Her vision was once again engulfed in light, and she found herself standing back in the room with her mother and the burly man.
She looked around, feeling a bit disoriented. “What happened next?”
The man moved away from her and sat down in his velvet chair. “One of the assassins killed me and the other King’s Guard, after insisting that there be no witnesses. I assume that those who refused the king’s offer did not live much longer.”
The young woman frowned. “So you do not know what became of this secret organization?”
He shook his head. “I suppose I could have asked someone who witnessed the growth and final form of the organization began by those assassins, but quite frankly, I do not want to know the details. Such corruption must eventually fall, and that is all I need to know.”
Adesina didn’t know what to say to such a statement. E’rian took her daughter’s hand and gave the man a sad smile. “Thank you for your help.”
He nodded and turned his attention to the maps on the table.
The older woman led the way back through the door and into the Garden. Adesina was still carefully analyzing what she had seen.
