Shadow Born (The Shadow Accords Book 3)

by D. K. Holmberg

  “They will always be a threat.”

  “You could help me stop them. I can tell you want that as well.”

  Ras’s eyes twitched in what she recognized as a display of emotion. “There are many things I want. Most require what I do not have.”

  “I’ve seen your strength. With the two of us—”

  “Did you learn nothing, shadow born?” He started to pull the door closed and Carth tensed, thinking that her chance to escape had disappeared. Would he take that from her now that she was so close? Had she said the wrong thing to him?

  But she had noted his reaction when she’d discussed the Hjan. Somehow, he had been harmed by them as well.

  “Have you not seen that there is no power that will overwhelm the Hjan? They learn, and they adapt. They might not have the same abilities you possess, but they have numbers that make them stronger than you. There is nothing you can do that will change the course of what they intend.”

  Carth flashed back to when she had played as the Hjan. Not as one individual, but as the entire group. She had been ruthless, and conniving, and… she realized that what Ras said might be true. The Hjan would come with more numbers.

  Which only made it more important that she do something.

  “I have friends in Nyaesh. There are others I care about. I can’t sit back and do nothing.”

  “What do you think you could do, shadow born?”

  How had she defeated the Hjan when she’d played as them?

  “There might be nothing I can do, but I have to try. Didn’t your game show me it’s not about how strong the move might be, but about the tactics?”

  Ras pushed on the door again, letting it open into the night. “Perhaps you learned more than I realized.”

  He turned away from her, leaving Carth standing facing the open doorway.

  “You won’t help?”

  “My fight is here, shadow born.”

  “And what fight is that? From what I’ve seen, you sit and you play games with me and others, but you don’t do anything.”

  She thought goading him this way might get some reaction out of him, give her something she could work with, but it didn’t. He continued back down the hall, leaving her standing in the doorway as he likely returned to his game board.

  Carth collected her knives and stepped out into the night.

  Shadows swirled around her, at first an unfamiliar sensation. It was much like what she had experienced when she had first left the palace grounds after training with the Nyaesh as long as she had. There was comfort in the shadows, and in knowing she could use them. They made her stronger, quicker, more silent, but she had become dependent on them.

  After going a hundred yards or so, she glanced back, searching for Ras’s home, but found nothing but emptiness in the night.

  She paused. How had he disappeared?

  Not only him, but how had the entire building disappeared?

  Carth drew on the shadows, shifting them around herself, trying to see through the darkness, but even as she did, there was nothing that told her there had been anything else. It was as if the building simply did not exist.

  She started back, heading in the direction she knew the building had to be, and found herself making a steady circle, never getting any closer to anything that could be the building.

  Carth smiled to herself. Had Ras somehow managed to hide an entire building from her? It would be the best way to keep it protected. If she couldn’t find it—if others couldn’t find it—there would be no way for him to be discovered.

  No wonder he didn’t have anyone to play Tsatsun with.

  She paused and listened for the sound of the sea. The salt clung to the air, so she knew she must be close, but in the darkness of the night, she couldn’t see any sign of it. Distantly, there was the sound of waves lapping at the shore.

  Carth made her way toward it.

  With each step, she felt pushed along, as if whatever Ras did, and however he managed to conceal his presence, also kept her from turning around. In that way, it reminded her of the power he used with the light, how he pushed it against her and concealed her ability with the shadows.

  There came a shifting to the shadows as the landscape in front of her changed. Carth reached it, discovering a steep cliff leading down to rocks far below, the sea crashing there. Occasional spits of spray reached her. Which way would she find Odian? If she could find the city, she could find the Levelan, and hopefully Jhon.

  She had two options, and neither seemed better than the other.

  Turning left, she followed the rocky cliffside, occasionally having to slow to climb over rock or around massive cracks that jutted in from the sea, as if one of the gods had grown angry and tossed boulders down on the land.

  The rock slowly changed, gradually rolling toward a grassy plain. Occasional copses of trees appeared, and she paused near one, drinking from a stream that spilled over the cliff edge and out to the sea. Carth imagined that it would be beautiful in the daylight, but she had no interest in seeing it in the daylight. She wanted nothing more than to reach Odian. Find Jhon. And then discover some way to reach Nyaesh, even if it meant she had to find a ship of her own.

  Distant lights caught her attention as she climbed another peak.

  Carth paused again, noting how the sea felt no closer now than it had before, how the cliff still loomed high over the water, and wondered how much she would have to descend to reach it. As she approached the distant lights, she began to hear the sounds of a city.

  Carth hurried along the rock, moving as quickly as she could until the rock gradually changed into what appeared to be a path. From there, it widened and she could see where boots had left their marks over time. No one walked the path. It might be late, but she would have expected to see someone; there was nothing.

  The road wound away from the rocks, veering away from the shore and curving down, a gentler slope than she would have expected. As she reached the base of the hill, the city in the distance spread out before her. Dozens of candles glowed in the night, and there was the sound of voices, mixed with the occasional shout, and even the cawing of gulls, that last almost soothing after all the time she’d spent along the shores in Nyaesh or in several of the other port towns her parents had brought her to during their travels from Ih-lash.

  Was this Odian?

  It was possible that it was not—that Ras had brought her away from Odian, and that she would find another city—but something about the fish scent mixed with the salt and the strange but real rhythm of the city told her it was.

  She followed the road as it led through the city, veering away from the heart of the city itself and making her way toward where she expected to find the docks. If Jhon remained, and if the Levelan remained, she would find them.

  She passed a row of shops, some with signs she recognized, like that of the seamstress or the candlemaker or even the herbalist, the sign marked with a sprig of what appeared to be coxberry—a strange plant to use for something like that—until she reached a row of taverns. That was how she knew she was close. Much like they did in Nyaesh, the taverns ran along the docks. It was probably the same in most cities, though Carth didn’t know too many places other than Nyaesh. She’d been too young to wander freely when she’d visited other places with her parents.

  At the docks, she pulled on the shadows, making it lighter for her and easier to see as she searched for the Levelan. She was a distinctive ship, one with a sharp prow and a masthead that looked carved like a sea creature, and during the time they had been docked in Odian, the square sails had been rolled, though she knew they were a deep brown, darker than most ships, so that when she sailed at night it would be difficult to see her.

  There was no sign of the Levelan. There was nothing but local ships.

  After all she had been through, she would be stranded here.

  14

  The inside of the tavern glowed with a warm light, the product of dozens of candles as well as the steady bl
aze from the hearth. Carth sat in a corner of the tavern, arms wrapped around her plate, savoring the stringy meat and the tough carrots she’d been served, not minding the exorbitant price she’d been charged for them. It wasn’t her coin anyway; she’d collected scraps from a well-dressed man when she’d first entered, deciding he wouldn’t miss his purse. She’d seen plenty of men like him during her time on the streets in Nyaesh, enough to know she’d chosen the right target.

  The tavern wasn’t as full as the Wounded Lyre used to get, but the men sitting at tables shooting dice or drinking ale all seemed much the same as she would have seen in the Lyre. A minstrel played in the back of the tavern, strumming an instrument she’d never seen. It had a bright sound, one that carried through the tavern and split through the noise around them.

  She tried to listen. What she needed was information. Not only about the Levelan, if she could get it, but about Odian, and how long she might have been trapped. If she could find out that, she might be able to figure out what had happened with Jhon and how long they had stayed in the port after her disappearance. She suspected they would have searched for her for a while, but when would they have given up?

  “Storms moving in again,” one of the men at a nearby table said.

  Carth glanced over to him and noted his narrow-set eyes and pale hair, coloring that was not seen in the north. That marked him as a southerner, though she didn’t know the southern isles nearly as well and didn’t know the lands beyond the sea at all. That was where the Hjan came from, if Jhon was right.

  “There are always storms that move through here,” another man said. “That’s why we get stuck here for as long as we do.”

  “The last time we were here, we were stuck for nearly a week,” the beady-eyed man said.

  He glanced over and Carth tried to make it look like she hadn’t been listening. She didn’t worry about them catching her, but she didn’t want to cause trouble either. Gathering information required using the shadows and being secretive.

  She pulled slightly on the shadows, drawing from the edge just a bit, enough that she could feel herself sinking into them, and enough that she had a shroud she could use to conceal herself. Even with that, she had to be careful. Pull too much, and it would be evident something was off. Not enough and she remained visible. It was a balancing act, and she was out of practice now that she had been confined for as long as she had been.

  “A week is nothing,” the other man said. “I hear there was a ship stuck here nearly three weeks the last time. Think on that, Guya! Three weeks sitting at the damn dock, with nothing but your stinking ship for company.”

  “The ship doesn’t smell nearly as bad as the men on it.” Both men laughed. “Besides, at least it gives you a chance to sit and have a few pints of ale. Not much ale flows on the ship.”

  “That you know of.”

  “The crew know better than to risk tapping into the casks. They wouldn’t do anything like that. If they did, I’d have to—”

  “You wouldn’t do anything, and they know it. You’re too soft.”

  “Ah, better to be too soft than to be too harsh. Most of those men will fight for me if it comes to it. You too, Talun.”

  Talun grunted, the sound a mixture of a burp and a hiccup, and wiped his face with his sleeve. “At least the ale here isn’t all that bad.”

  “After sitting on the ship as long as we have, anything is drinkable. Once we get these casks to Wesjan, we can crack them and have a few good celebratory pints. Asador ale. Tastes better than this, if you know what I’m saying.”

  “I know this is enough for me to keep drinking.”

  They fell silent for a while, and one of the men burped again. “Storms really coming through?” Talun asked.

  Guya shrugged. “Who really knows? We’ll try to get out before they get a chance, but if we don’t…”

  “I’m getting a room off the ship if we don’t.”

  Guya peered around the tavern. “A room? What kind of place do you think this is? You risk him if you try grabbing for one of the girls.”

  “Not going to risk that,” Talun said. “I know better.”

  Guya studied him, a frown on his intoxicated face, as if he didn’t quite believe his friend. Then the other man belched and his head sagged forward, resting on the table. “Good,” Guya said in a whisper. “I didn’t want to have to keep you from doing anything stupid.”

  He slung his arm around Talun and lifted him, carrying him from the tavern.

  Carth sat there for a moment before deciding to follow, curiosity more than anything pushing her. She hadn’t heard of Asador—or their ales—and wasn’t quite sure where Wesjan would be found, and she wanted to see what kind of ship they were using. She found Guya outside the tavern, working his way along the dock until he came to a smaller ship. It had a narrow beam, and a strange placement of the mast, so she didn’t know quite how something like that would travel the open waters. Even the wide-beamed ship she had taken with Jhon had been rocky out on the open water. Had she not had as hard a stomach as she did, she suspected she would have been miserable. As it was, the ride had been bad enough.

  When Guya reached the sip, Carth heard a soft cry. It was the same sort of cry she’d heard when she’d gone rushing into the city after the girl and ultimately been captured.

  Guya seemed to hear it as well. He paused as he was loading Talun into the ship and looked up. For a moment, Carth thought he might have noticed her, but she retreated into the shadows even more, pulling them around her fully. This way, she would disappear completely from him. She could hear him, and she could see him, but were she to move, she would expose herself.

  The soft cry came again, this time an unmistakable sound.

  Guya noticed as well. He set Talun on the ground. The man moaned softly but didn’t move. Guya glanced back toward the tavern before hurrying off, racing toward the sound.

  Carth followed, still holding on to the shadows. She didn’t know how well she maintained them as she moved—the cloaking didn’t always work quite as well for her while moving—but she hurried after Guya, careful to stay behind him. She didn’t want him to know she followed, or to discover that she used the shadows as she did to stay behind him.

  After leaving the row of taverns, the road wound away from the city. It reminded her of where she’d been captured, and she worried what she would find here. Guya moved cautiously, a pair of knives unsheathed and clutched in both hands. His head swiveled as he walked, and his flat eyes searched into the darkness.

  Another cry, more of a whimper this time.

  Carth stopped, focusing on where the cry had come from.

  Not the direction Guya had gone. This was to the west.

  She glanced at him, then started to the west, moving off the road as she searched for the source. A cluster of stooped trees caught her attention and she froze.

  Carth held the shadows, clinging to them so that she could remain as hidden as possible. This was where she had heard the sound.

  She crept forward, moving slowly, easing toward the trees. If there was something there, she would know about it, but she didn’t want to be surprised either. She wanted to have a glimpse before rushing in and risking herself.

  Maybe Ras’s training had worked. Before, she would have raced in—the risks be damned—and then discovered what she faced. At least this time, she moved carefully, wanting information before she was willing to risk herself.

  Two men stood near the tree. Both were armed with slender swords. One of the men peered at the ground, and Carth followed the direction of his gaze, noting a small girl lying there. A bloody gash ran along one of the arms bound behind her back. She whimpered every so often, and when she did, the man staring at her would kick her.

  With the kick, she cried out more loudly. This was the sound that had drawn her attention. Carth slipped her knife from her sheath and started forward, ready to free the girl, when she heard another sound.

  She paused and looked
around for what had made the sound. It had come from behind her.

  Almost too slowly, she darted behind a row of stones along the road, hiding as quickly as she could. She didn’t know if she was fast enough, or whether the movement had unraveled some of the shadow cloak she held. She didn’t think so, but it had been so long since she had tried to move with the shadows that she wasn’t sure that she had been as smooth with them as she had intended.

  “About time you made it here,” one of the men said.

  “Had to shake him.”

  Carth recognized the voice and noted Talun appearing out of the darkness. He didn’t appear to be nearly as intoxicated as he had seemed when Guya had left him on the dock. What would Guya do if he saw him?

  Unless Guya was in on it with him.

  No. That didn’t seem right. If Guya were in on it, there would have been no need for Talun’s playacting. There would have been no need for the deception.

  Then what had happened to Guya?

  Her mind raced through the possibilities, quickly calculating the likelihood that any of the scenarios she came up with might have occurred. Before her time trapped with Ras, she doubted she would have thought it through quite as quickly. Should she be thankful? Did one thank one’s captor, regardless of the outcome of one’s captivity?

  “We’ve got another one heading to him. Can you get her on board?”

  Talun glanced at the girl and shrugged. “I think that can be arranged. I still haven’t figured out how I’ll explain this to him when we get to Wesjan.”

  “That’s not really our problem. I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”

  “Maybe split the take with him.” The other man had been silent, and as he turned, the shadows reflected off his face and she noticed a long scar running along one cheek. She had seen something like that before, but it had been on one of the Hjan. Was he with the Hjan? Were all of them?

  If that was the case, why did they need to smuggle the girl? She had seen how the Hjan could flicker from place to place. That seemed like it would be the easiest way to abduct someone.