Shadow Lost (The Shadow Accords Book 4)

by D. K. Holmberg

Carth turned so she could see him clearly. “The Hjan killed many people because they worked to position others. They hurt countless others.”

  “You mean they hurt you.”

  Carth swallowed before nodding slowly.

  “Did you not tell me your father still lives?”

  “He lives. And leads the Reshian.”

  She hadn’t discovered whether he was shadow born like her or only shadow blessed. For him to lead the Reshian made it likely he was shadow born. If that was the case, why hadn’t he stayed and taught her? Why had he abandoned her to Nyaesh, trusting that she would manage on her own?

  As much as anything, those were questions she wanted answered, but they were questions she wasn’t sure she would find the answers to.

  “You could return to him and ask the questions that plague you.”

  “I cannot.”

  “You fear the Reshian?”

  Carth shook her head. “I don’t fear the Reshian, much as I don’t fear the A’ras. I don’t belong to either.”

  “You belong to both, Carth of Ih-lash. You are born of both, perhaps more than any other.”

  “Which is why I can’t return.”

  “You talk in circles,” Ras said.

  “The Hjan seek power. That won’t change. The accords hold them for now, but they are between the A’ras, the Reshian, and the Hjan. Not with me.”

  “As you intentionally established.”

  She smiled. Ras had seen it as well as the green-eyed man. What sort of Tsatsun player would he have been?

  “You would destroy them?”

  “I would keep the Hjan from harming others. I will destroy them if necessary.”

  Ras nodded slowly. “Do you really think you can do this yourself?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Ras sat back. “Let me tell you what I know about them, add to your scraps of information.” He offered a hint of a smile as he said it. Did he know that was what Vera had called it? “The Hjan are an arm of another group. They call themselves scholars, and possess a tower of learning in the far south. They use power, collect it much like a child might collect seashells.”

  “I’ve seen that.”

  He shook his head. “You’ve seen the Hjan. They are the… assassin, I suppose you would call it, arm of these scholars. They are the ones sent to find those with power, and discover ways to subdue it. The others will collect it. Hold it. Study it.”

  “The Hjan didn’t seem interested in collecting power when they were in Nyaesh.”

  Ras’s eyes clouded. “No. There was something different afoot there, though I wasn’t able to determine what it was.”

  “Who is the green-eyed man?” He knew about her, and she needed to learn what she could about him. From what she’d seen, he appeared to lead the Hjan, but had no scar, nothing like the others of the Hjan possessed, the marker of what she suspected gave them their power.

  “Green-eyed? There are many of the Hjan who have green eyes.”

  “There’s one,” she said. “He was there during the attack near Wesjan. He was in Lonsyn when we found the bodies. I think he leads the Hjan.”

  Ras clasped his hands together on his lap. “I haven’t found any who lead the Hjan, Carthenne of Ih-lash. If you have discovered this man, then you are one step ahead of me.”

  “You’ve faced them longer than I have. When did you first encounter them?”

  Ras took a drink of tea, staring into his cup. “My exposure began long ago,” he said softly.

  “You’ve been trying to keep the descendants of Lashasn free from the Hjan.”

  He nodded. “I have tried. I have failed.”

  “But they’re safe now.” And studying with the A’ras, with Invar, someone who would be able to help guide them so that they were able to reach as much of their potential as possible. That had been his contribution to the peace and the accords. Ras had agreed, but had done so reluctantly.

  “They are safe.”

  “You don’t like it that others watch over them.”

  “Tell me, Carth of Ih-lash, how do you feel about the fact that your parents left you in Nyaesh?”

  “My mother didn’t leave me. She was killed—”

  “Killed as she attempted to leave you. It is the same, is it not?”

  Carth squeezed her eyes shut. Was it the same? She had hated her time on the streets, struggling to find her way, missing her parents and everything she’d known. Had she not chanced upon Jhon… but had she? Had it only been chance, especially with what she now knew about her father? It was possible that he had pushed Jhon to find her, and then pushed her to join the A’ras, much as her mother had once wanted. If that was the case, then Carth had been a part of another’s game for longer than she’d realized.

  “I don’t like that I lost her.”

  “As you should not. Had she lived, I doubt she would have liked leaving you with the A’ras, but as she must have known about your potential with the S’al, she did what she needed to see you trained. It hurts, but that doesn’t make it less right.”

  Carth took her tea and took a drink. The tea was a bitter brew, one that was stronger than what she’d drunk growing up, but contained hints of bayander that filled her nose. She understood what Ras was telling her, and understood the reason that he shared with her.

  “Why Odian?” she asked after a while.

  “Because it was safe.”

  Carth looked over at him, starting to smile, but her smile faded when she saw the sadness on his face. “Was?”

  “Most sailors know of Odian, which makes it easier for others to reach me. Once here, it is difficult to find.”

  “You mean that you are difficult to find.”

  “Are they different?”

  She shook her head. “The descendants of Lashasn sent their children to you?”

  Ras swept his arm behind him, waving toward the doorway. Behind it, Carth knew there were dozens of rooms, though she had not been in any other than the cell where he’d kept her while she was here. “They sent their children to learn. For many years, I taught the descendants of Lashasn, showing them how to use the S’al, allowing them to hold on to that heritage, a piece of history that we would otherwise have lost. Now… now I will not.”

  “Why did they send them here?”

  “The story behind Ih and Lashasn is not one you need me to share.”

  “That’s not what I’m asking. Why here rather than Nyaesh? Why not bolster the A’ras?” she asked.

  “In Nyaesh, there were the descendants of Lashasn, but they were those who wanted to maintain the war. Those I was willing to teach were those who had abandoned the belief that the war must continue, who understood that we needed to remain hidden, much as those of Reshian managed to hide in the shadows. While on Odian, we were able to do that, if only for a while. Those of Ih had their own protection.”

  “The Reshian.”

  “The Reshian,” Ras agreed.

  “They’ve disappeared. I can’t find them.”

  “Because you haven’t searched.”

  “I have.”

  “Have you, Carthenne of Ih-lash? Have you visited every possibility? Do you really understand everything that you need to see?”

  “Ih-lash is gone.”

  “Everything changes. We must change as well.”

  Carth hadn’t realized the extent of what had changed. She knew that the Hjan had drawn the Reshian out and had forced them against the A’ras, but had they known the extent of what Ras did?

  They must have, to implicate him and to take those of Lashasn as they had.

  It was a part of the game she hadn’t accounted for.

  Yet, somehow, she had still managed to win.

  Not win. A truce. There hadn’t been another play, so both sides had agreed to peace. That wasn’t the same as winning.

  How long would the peace hold?

  Carth had to believe it wouldn’t be nearly as long as she had thought it would.

  Ras
had raised another concern, one she hadn’t considered before now. Could the C’than have used her?

  She thought it possible, but less likely. If they were to use her, they would have needed to know what she was capable of doing, and she didn’t think that was the case.

  Or had they?

  Her father was one of the Reshian—and had had Jhon watch over her.

  Invar—one of the masters of the A’ras—had worked with her and then sent her with Jhon.

  How many others had been the same?

  Were they of the C’than?

  Was that the power Ras implied?

  What if Ras worked with the C’than, and only pretended that he didn’t?

  She looked at him, wondering if perhaps she had been a piece in a game all along. If that was the case, then it was possible that she had missed something, all while thinking she was acting on her own. Maybe she hadn’t been. Maybe she never had been, always pressed by other pieces, moved as if she were the stone in some massive game of Tsatsun.

  The idea actually amused her.

  “Why are you smiling?”

  “I’m seeing things from a different perspective,” she said.

  “That often leads to insight.”

  She nodded. “It does.”

  “And what did you learn this time?”

  Carth took the pieces from the Tsatsun board and arranged them, placing the stone in the middle. “I begin to wonder if you haven’t been playing your best.”

  Ras’s eyes sparkled slightly. “You’ve beaten me three times, Carth of Ih-lash. I think you have won.”

  Carth leaned forward, thinking through what she’d seen when she’d played him before. Had any of the games been legitimate? Could he have been playing a different game all along?

  “I’ve done what you wanted all along, haven’t I?”

  Ras folded his arms over his chest. “If that’s what you believe…”

  “I think you’ve wanted me to believe I beat you. It’s another game for you, isn’t it?” She sat back, trying to think through the board. When she saw it this way, when she considered everything she knew, she could piece it together. Now that she did, she began to see how it all came together. Not just the moves, but the individuals she’d worked with ever since losing her mother. Jhon. Invar. Ras. They were all a part of it, weren’t they?

  They were all a part of a game where she had served as the stone.

  But why?

  “You are a part of the C’than, aren’t you?”

  Ras didn’t answer. Instead, he stood, turned to the wall, and disappeared.

  11

  Carth had only vague memories of her homeland.

  Her parents had left Ih-lash when she was young, taking her from nation to nation and city to city as they had traveled, always searching for something. Now she understood that her parents had searched for safety, and done so in the only way that they had known how. Had they only shared with her while her mother had been alive… would anything have been different?

  Ras had disappeared, leaving Carth with the same questions she had before, but also some answers. She needed to find Ih-lash. From there, the Reshian. And then what?

  Did she search for the C’than?

  Was that what he wanted?

  They were two days out from Odian when they found the ship dead in the water.

  Guya sailed up to it, his back stiff, making a point of not looking over at her.

  “What is it, Guya?” she asked.

  “You should stay here.”

  “Guya?”

  “This is a Reshian ship. The shape is too typical for them.”

  “Where is the crew?”

  “I don’t know. Stay on the Spald.”

  Carth ignored him and jumped aboard the other ship.

  It was strange and empty. There was nothing here. The entire ship was empty. She searched from the helm to the hull and found nothing. The only thing she did find were a few scorch marks, but that didn’t make any sense to her.

  As she stood on the hull, looking up at the furled sails, she frowned. “What happened here, Guya?” Her gaze lingered on the maroon sails, and she wondered why the Reshian chose that color of sail.

  “I don’t know.”

  “They’re just… gone.”

  “Aye.”

  “There were strange burn marks in the hold,” Carth said.

  Guya’s face looked troubled, and Carth realized why the scorch marks had bothered her. They looked almost as if they had been made by the S’al rather than a natural flame. But if that was the case… then the A’ras had violated the accords already.

  “I saw them as well.”

  “They wanted the accords,” she said.

  “Most did.”

  “Most?” She looked over, waiting for his answer.

  “Not all wanted them, Carth. They were used to the fighting, and used to what they knew. You settled it, but will it last?”

  “It has to last,” Carth said softly.

  “That’s what you want, but I’m not sure it can.”

  Guya climbed back onto the Spald, saying nothing more. Carth lingered a while longer before following him, and they sailed off, leaving the Reshian ship empty and alone in the middle of the sea.

  Guya sailed them across the sea, and they came across no other sign of the Reshian, nothing else that seemed out of place. The waves were calm, as if the sea itself sensed her mood and wanted nothing more than to help her reach her homeland and find her answers. Carth didn’t think she used her abilities as they sailed, but she had been known to use them without intending to, so it was possible that she had.

  “You’re quiet,” Dara said.

  Carth nodded. “I was born here,” she said, nodding toward the distant shores. Far in the distance, she could make out the outlines of buildings as they sailed toward the city of Isahl, once the capital of Ih-lash. Was it still? Everything she’d learned from the Reshian, and from Jhon, told her that the Hjan had attacked Ih-lash and had destroyed the city, but buildings remained standing. There would have to be some people still there, though she doubted there would be any with shadow blessings.

  “Born but never returned?”

  She shook her head. “I think my father knew what was coming. He brought us away, presumably to safety.”

  Dara laughed softly. “Presumably? You live, Carth. Had they not…”

  “Had they not, I might have died. Or they might have died sooner. Or maybe not at all. I don’t know.”

  Dara clutched the railing. “It’s a shame you never really had a home. I remember Var, and the home I grew up in—the warmth of the hearth, the laughter of my parents and sister…”

  “You could still return.”

  “And miss all of this?”

  Carth forced a smile. “You haven’t shared with me why you’ve been willing to come with me. After what we’ve faced, I keep expecting you to ask to return.”

  “Does there need to be a why?”

  Carth grunted softly. “When your life is constantly in danger, I think there should be a why.”

  “It’s not constantly in danger.”

  Carth laughed. “Fine. Mostly.” She turned to Dara and noted the wrinkles in the corners of her eye as she stared over the bow of the ship, taking in the looming sight of Isahl. Her eyes glistened softly, and tears had formed. “You don’t have to risk yourself for this.”

  “You did. You do.”

  “I have abilities.”

  Dara turned to her and flashed a forced smile. “When you rescued us, I thought I was about to die. The fire…”

  “That was my fault.”

  “Even before that, they had been cruel. Hard. There was little doubt that they were going to hurt us. I don’t know where they intended to bring us, but they sailed south. They would sell us, and then return and do it again.”

  “They won’t hurt anyone else, Dara.”

  “They won’t, but others like them will. If there aren’t those willing to
stand up for themselves, and to stand up for others, what’s to stop it from happening again? What’s to stop worse from happening?”

  Carth sighed. Maybe that was the reason she risked herself. Did she do it because others would not?

  “I don’t want anyone else getting hurt. That includes you.”

  “Then keep teaching me,” she suggested. “I made a mistake on the Tempar. It won’t happen again.”

  Carth squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t know.”

  “Please. Help make me stronger so I can work with you. You can’t do this alone, Carth. You’re strong—I’ve seen that much—but everyone needs support. I can be that support.”

  “I’ll think on it.”

  They sailed the rest of the way into the port of Isahl without another word. Carth didn’t remember the city well. She had left Ih-lash when she was quite young, but even then she hadn’t spent much time in the capital city. Returning now was out of necessity more than desire, though she recognized that she needed to come back. She needed answers, and she needed to understand herself, before she could really understand what else she might be able to do.

  And she needed to find her father. The leader of the Reshian might have answers, not only those she needed to know about the attack and the blood magic, but about herself.

  “How will you know where to find what you’re looking for?” Dara asked.

  That was the one thing she actually didn’t worry about. With the shadow magic, she’d be able to reach for the changes in the shadows and use them to find others who might be shadow blessed, possibly shadow born, though she wondered if she would find anyone with that ability. There weren’t many shadow born—few enough that she doubted any still existed other than her.

  “The shadows will guide me.”

  After anchoring and rowing into the port on a small dinghy, Carth stood in Isahl with Dara. Guya remained on board the ship, ready to depart quickly were there the need.

  Carth took a deep breath, inhaling the scents of the city. There was nothing familiar here, nothing that felt like home, not the way the scents and sounds of Nyaesh did. They were at least familiar to her. She had been so long away from Ih-lash that there wasn’t anything about the city that was familiar. Even the sea had a mossy odor to it that it didn’t have farther south.