Griffin's Shadow

by Leslie Ann Moore

  Ashinji woke with a start. The vertigo that always gripped him after a prophetic dream left him queasy. He lay back on his bunk and stared at the ceiling, drawing in deep breaths to slow his galloping heart.

  Perhaps Seijon is right; I should get Leal before he gets me…No! I will kill only in self-defense.

  He covered his face with his hands.

  Jelena, my love, I miss you so much!

  He slept no more that night.

  Chapter 29

  A Vision, A Tale, And A Plan

  The march of days passed inexorably onward and, as Gran predicted, Ashinji soon settled into the rhythm of life in the de Guera yard. The weather gradually cooled as fall melted into a winter so mild, Ashinji barely noticed the difference.

  Ashinji’s job as swordmaster to the unskilled new arrivals kept him out of the lethal matches, as Aruk-cho had promised, but after about a month at the yard, he found himself on the regular roster for the many points matches run each week.

  On the day of his debut in the Grand Arena, he caused a sensation. The Darguinian public had never seen anything like him before, and they responded with immediate and near frenzied excitement. He beat his opponents in all three matches, and left the blood-stained sands with only a shallow cut across his sword arm and the thunderous applause of the crowd ringing in his ears.

  From that day forward, Ashinji battled in the Arena five days a week. On some days, he fought in the pouring rain, and on others, beneath the weak glare of the winter sun. At first, he used a variety of weapons, including the short, heavy stabbing sword favored by the Soldaran fighters, but quickly settled on a lighter, longer blade forged in the desert country of the Ahzani. The Ahzani weapon came closest to the feel of an elf-made sword.

  His opponents proved a mixed lot; he faced an even assortment of good to excellent fighters, some of whom might have killed him, given the right combination of luck and timing. He constantly gave thanks to the One that his position in the yard spared him from the lethal matches, though he had no illusions that his situation could not, nor would not, eventually change.

  All of the fighters, both slave and free, wore armor of some sort. Mistress de Guera issued each of her slaves a stout coat of leather sewn over with small squares of steel, steel-plated leather arm and leg guards, and a metal helmet with an open face. None of it matched the quality of his elven-made armor, but Ashinji knew it was better than nothing.

  He never left the Arena without a cut or two, but luck and skill kept him from more serious injury. Every day, he mourned the loss of his old life and longed for the comfort of Jelena’s arms.

  He often dreamed of her. Sometimes, she smiled and seemed happy; other times, her face glistened with tears. Only once did he wake with the queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach that always accompanied a prophetic dream. In his vision, he saw Jelena, hugely pregnant and in the midst of labor. She lay with her head cradled in the lap of a beautiful, red-haired woman. Something dark and menacing fluttered around the woman’s head like shreds of mist. Jelena wailed as a birth pain wracked her body. Ashinji could only watch in disembodied horror as the flame-haired woman thrust her index finger straight down Jelena’s throat.

  All the next day, Ashinji moved about in a fog of fear. He felt certain the face he’d seen in his dream- though indistinct-belonged to King Keizo’s Companion. Sonoe had a well-known reputation as a powerful mage, and Ashinji knew of her involvement with Jelena’s magical training. If Sonoe bore Jelena any ill will, she had never revealed her true feelings. Ashinji had no cause to distrust her-until now.

  That evening, he sought out Gran and told her of his dream.

  “‘Tis a pity such a Talent as yours was never developed, Ashi. You would be a force to be reckoned with!”

  As was her custom every evening after supper, Gran sat outside the women’s barracks on a three-legged stool, back against the wall, smoking a pipe. She fanned the air before her face in an effort to disperse the pungent smoke given off by the burning herb. “I’ve been meaning to give up this filthy habit,” she grumbled.

  Ashinji, perched on another stool beside her, stifled a cough as the fumes stung his throat. “I need to know for sure the woman I saw is a danger to my wife, Gran.”

  “Visions are tricky things, young man. Many times they show only what might happen, not what will happen. Their language is often symbolic, as you well know. This red-haired woman might not be an actual person, but rather an avatar of someone or some thing.”

  “No, no.” Ashinji shook his head. “She is an actual person…the official consort of King Keizo, and a trained mage.”

  “We will try an old technique for delving into the deepest parts of the mind.” Gran took a drag on her pipe and allowed the smoke to trickle from her nostrils in long streamers before continuing. “I will be as gentle as I can, but it will hurt, and you’ll have a nasty headache afterward.” Her pale eyes met his.

  Ashinji nodded.

  Gran dumped the still-burning herb from her pipe onto the ground and tucked it into a skirt pocket. “I might see things you wish to keep private, Ashi. Does that worry you?”

  “No, Gran. I trust you,” Ashinji replied. He leaned forward and Gran placed her cool hands on either side of his head. He closed his eyes.

  Ashinji’s mind had been probed before, but only by his mother. Those superficial scans had been more of a discomfort than truly painful, but this was an entirely different experience. He felt his body squirming even as he fought to remain still while Gran pushed ever deeper. Her mind felt cool, logical, superbly ordered, and very, very powerful. Ashinji had never felt such immense Talent before. He heard himself groan as Gran pulled forth the memory of the red-haired woman and held it up for examination.

  The face resolved itself into a clear picture of Sonoe. Even though he had expected it, Ashinji’s gut still twisted with dismay. Why would Sonoe wish to hurt Jelena? It made no sense to him.

  The feel of Gran’s mind changed as the memory of Ashinji’s vision became clearer. Her thoughts crackled with alarm, which only fueled his own anxiety. The pain of the probe intensified and it required all of his strength just to remain still.

  “Gran…please, enough!” he gasped through gritted teeth.

  Abruptly, the pain ceased. He opened bleary eyes to find Gran still drawn close, her hands gripping his head.

  She peered into his eyes. “Are you all right?” she inquired.

  “I have a bad headache, as promised, but otherwise… yes.”

  As Gran massaged his temples, a look of profound sadness flitted across her face.

  “What’s wrong?” Ashinji asked.

  Gran shook her head and sniffed loudly. “Just an old woman’s memories, coming back to haunt her. You remind me of someone very dear to me, someone I lost a long time ago.” She sat back with a sigh. “It’s not important. What is important is that I know this Sonoe, or more precisely, I know of her. She was a student of the Kan Onji when I served there as provost. Even as a student, she stood out for her brilliance and ambition. I always knew she’d go far, but…”

  “King’s Companion is not what you would have expected for her?” Ashinji smiled wryly.

  Gran sniffed again and raised an eyebrow. “She came to us with almost no money and so was obliged to work for her keep and training. She did very little manual labor, as I recall.”

  “The darkness I saw hovering around Sonoe…what does that mean?”

  “I don’t know,” Gran admitted. “It could mean that she, herself, is evil, or she is being influenced by an evil, outside force.”

  “I know she’s a very powerful sorceress, Gran. Do you have any idea what she’s doing-or might do-to my wife?” Ashinji paused. “Goddess’ tits! Jelena’s blue fire… That must be what she wants!”

  “What is this ‘blue fire’?” Gran asked.

  “It’s some kind of an energy form within Jelena, but it’s not part of her Talent. Do you think Sonoe knows what it is?”

 
Gran countered with a request. “Tell me everything you know about this energy form your wife harbors.”

  “Well…” Ashinji hesitated then continued, “I don’t know much at all, really… only that it’s always been there, according to Jelena. She has no idea what it is or how to control it. She assumed it was a normal part of her elven heritage and hoped to learn more about it after she came to live among us. The few times when she and I have shared a mindlink, I’ve seen it in her. It always looks like a blue ball of light.”

  “Do you know of the Kirian Society, Ashi?” Gran asked.

  “Yes. They’re an ancient order of mages. My mother is a member…or she used to be.”

  “Before I had to leave Alasiri, I was the Mistress of the Society,” Gran revealed.

  Ashinji silently digested this information while Gran continued. “Once, we Kirians wielded power enough to shape political and social events to our will. We were the moral guardians of the realm. The kings and queens of Alasiri listened to and heeded our counsel. Now, sadly, we are but a pale shadow of the Kirians of old.” She stared out into the darkness as if her eyes could pierce the veil of time and see into the past.

  “This is all very interesting, but what does it have to do with Jelena and Sonoe?” Ashinji’s anxiety made his voice sharp.

  Jelena is in danger and I can’t protect her as long as I remain a captive! he thought.

  “Patience, young man,” Gran admonished. “I’m telling you all of this so you will better understand what must be done. Now, listen. What I’m about to tell you is known only to the Kirians, and has been safeguarded by our order since ancient times. I’m only telling you because you are directly involved.

  “When we first met, you told me of your wife, a hikui daughter of the house of Onjara. It set off alarm bells in my mind. I didn’t want to believe it at first, but it fit the prediction too well to be dismissed.”

  “What prediction?”

  “You know the story of the ancient king whose daughter defeated him and erased his name from all official records?”

  “Every elven child learns about Queen Syukoe in school,” Ashinji answered.

  “Well, what is not taught is the real reason why she did what she did…and what was done to the king whose name is no longer known. This is the truth of it…”

  ~~~

  Ashinji sat hunched on his stool, head in his hands, trying to make sense of what Gran had just told him.

  That men and women could command the kind of power necessary to…to punch through the barrier of Time itself… His mind reeled in disbelief.

  After a long silence, he straightened and turned narrowed eyes upon Gran. “This Key you speak of-this magic those ancient mages put into my wife-it’s intertwined with her life force, you say.”

  “Yes, it is,” Gran replied.

  “And the Kirian Society, or what’s left of it, must remove and safeguard it from this…this thing you call the Nameless One, who is, in fact, the undead sorcerer king Onjara.” Gran nodded. Ashinji continued. “If this Key is so closely bound to Jelena’s life force, won’t removing it…” His voice faltered as realization crept up and pounced. “Removing it means killing her, doesn’t it?” he whispered.

  “Ashi, there are greater things at stake here than your wife’s life.” Gran’s voice was harsh. Ashinji opened his mouth to reply, but the old mage cut off his furious retort before he could launch it.

  “Just listen to me, young man! If the Nameless One regains possession of the Key, it will mean the end of everything! His essence is a thousand-year distillation of pure malice, and he wants nothing less than the complete destruction of the material world as we know it. He must tear down reality first, in order to refashion it into his own twisted version. To do that, he needs the Key. He must be denied, whatever the cost.”

  “Please tell me there’s a way to do this without killing my wife in the process!” Ashinji begged.

  “I will not lie to you,” Gran replied. “There is a risk that Jelena will be lost, but the loss to the material world and every creature in it is incalculable if the Nameless One should gain possession of the Key, or if it should fall into the hands of a living mage powerful and ruthless enough to use it.”

  “Gran… please! Tell me there’s a way!”

  “Ai, Ashi… Son,” Gran murmured. Her expression melted into tenderness and tears glittered in her eyes. “Your wife’s death is not a certainty, only a possibility…I wish I could give you more reassurance, but I can’t.”

  Ashinji stood up, overturning his stool, and began to pace. Gran watched silently.

  “How is any of this going to happen?” he asked. “We’re both slaves, Gran. We’re hundreds of leagues from home, trapped in the middle of the capital of the Soldaran Empire, surrounded by countless numbers of humans… none of whom would lift a finger to help us escape!”

  “That’s not entirely true,” Gran said. “There is someone who might be willing to help us. Two someones, in fact.”

  “Who, then?”

  “One is a healing brother of the Eskleipan order. He used to come twice a week, but I haven’t seen him for quite a while. He went out of his way to make my acquaintance the first time he came. He claimed to have a hikui relative. Calls himself Tilo. I shall inquire after him when next the Eskleipans come.”

  “Who’s the other human who might aid us?”

  “Not human, Ashinji.”

  “Aruk-cho!”

  Gran nodded. “His first loyalty is to Mistress de Guera, but he just might be willing to help in an indirect way. Stop pacing and look at me, young man.”

  Ashinji halted.

  “Ashi, there is something else I need to tell you, something about me. Please sit down.” Ashinji did as Gran bid.

  “You once asked me why I’ve chosen to remain here as a slave. I’m going to tell you the reason now. I remain to serve penance.”

  “Penance? For what crime?” Ashinji’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

  “Crimes, Ashi. Arrogance, greed, selfishness…a lust for power so great, it cost those dearest to me their very lives.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I was a very powerful mage once, Ashi. I enjoyed respect, prestige, all that came with my station, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted more.” In the dim light of the single lantern hanging on a hook by the barracks door, Gran’s face looked grim and haunted. “I, in my overweening pride, thought that I could re-create the energy pattern needed to construct a Portal, a means by which the Kirians of old could travel great distances without having to trek overland. Only one Kirian has ever been able to create the proper energy pattern, and he has been dead a thousand years. The strength of Talent needed is enormous. Such a feat qualifies as a Great Working.

  “I was warned not to attempt it, but this only spurred me on. I needed to prove my greatness! What a fool I was…” Gran stopped speaking. Her hand fluttered up to her face and touched her cheek as if the sensation of a long-ago kiss still lingered there.

  “My attempt failed, with spectacular and horrifying consequences. The home I shared with my husband and children was reduced to rubble. Everyone in the house died…my family, our servants…everyone. Except me. I survived, barely. When I emerged from the ruins, I was quite insane. Much later, I learned that a local farmer found me, injured and wandering the fields near where my home once stood. The Red Order, as was its duty to one of its own, even one such as me, took me in and healed my body. They also, after many months, succeeded in healing my mind.

  “When I came to my senses, my shame and guilt so overwhelmed me, I tried to kill myself, but my colleagues stopped me. The agony of living with what I’d done…Ai, Goddess! Nothing to me seemed punishment enough. My husband and my children were all dead by my hand, my professional reputation lay in ruins… I had nothing left. That was when I decided to spend the rest of my life doing penance for my crimes.”

  Gran fell silent, and Ashinji could see what a tremendous struggle she foug
ht with her memories. He waited patiently until she found the strength to continue.

  “I set out with only the clothes on my back and a little food, and I walked-yes walked-across Alasiri and down into the human lands. At the first settlement I came to, I stole a horse, openly, so that I would be pursued. I hoped when I was caught, I would be killed outright.

  “The men who finally captured me did not kill me, though. They were soldiers from the local garrison. They took me back to their fort. Since I was too old to be a concubine, they set me to work cooking and cleaning for them. I wasn’t very good at it, as you can imagine, so they beat me a lot those first weeks… but I welcomed all of the abuse they heaped upon me.

  “After several months at the fort, a stranger arrived-a dealer of slaves. The captain of the garrison, only too happy to get rid of me since I was no good as a cook, sold me to the dealer, who brought me here, to Darguinia. Mistress de Guera bought me from the slave market on the first day I arrived. I’m still not entirely sure why. Pity, perhaps. I’ve been here ever since.”

  Gran ceased her narrative and fell silent.

  Ashinji extended a hand and laid it atop her folded ones. Such an air of sadness hung about her that Ashinji momentarily forgot his own grief.

  “You told me I reminded you of someone you’d lost. Who?” he asked.

  “I had five sons. My youngest was about your age when he died. You remind me of him. His name was Taka…” Her voice broke, and a single tear slid from her left eye and trickled down her cheek.

  Ashinji could think of nothing to say. Mere words could not serve in the face of such overwhelming tragedy. He continued to hold her hands, waiting until she could speak again.

  “Ashinji, the Kirians must regain control of the Key. Any other possibility is unthinkable,” Gran continued at last. Her face settled into an expression of fierce determination. “I now have a reason to return to Alasiri… and you must come with me.”