An Echo of Things to Come

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An Echo of Things to Come Page 33

by James Islington


  Wirr blinked at him for a moment, then scowled. “Fates.” He had forgotten. “If she’s still there, tell her to meet us down the road, out of sight of the gates. She’ll have to come with us.”

  “As you say, Sire,” said Andyn, only a slight flicker of reluctance in his tone. He slipped out the door without another word.

  A few minutes later they were pulling away; Markus and his men had watched their every move, but no one had tried to stop them. Wirr let out a long breath as the house began to recede.

  “So what was that all about, Sire?” asked Andyn quietly, giving Deldri a meaningful glance as he said the words. “How did things escalate so quickly?”

  Wirr shook his head, peering back at his mother. She was just … standing there in the lamp-lit entrance, surrounded by her men as she watched them depart.

  He couldn’t be sure, but he thought that she was weeping.

  “I don’t know, Andyn.” Wirr sighed, settling back into his seat, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. “I have no idea at all.”

  Chapter 20

  Darkness.

  Not even darkness, just an utter absence of light. Fire all around, though the flames were shadow, black against the nothing, emitting no light. Pain. Asha whipped her vision around, trying to find somewhere, anywhere her gaze could fall that did not cause her agony. Loss. No physical body here, but she wasn’t floating along—rather ripped from one location to the next, shreds torn from her at every movement. The act of quickly healing was as agonizing as the wounds. Sadness.

  Rage. Depression. She was exhausted, she was furious, she was terrified, she was as alone as she could ever be. She reached for something good but good was merely a word now, an abstract concept. Not even her memories could touch on anything that felt tinged with something right.

  “There’s too much blood, Thell!” The words screamed through the void.

  “Necessary, Taeris.” Tension in the reply, but calmness, too. “Necessary.”

  Light. Blinding, beautiful light. Pain but a physical one, something exquisite and wondrous in and of itself.

  Two faces, one vaguely familiar, one not.

  “Evatha, tu terreth,” said the unfamiliar one.

  Asha knew the language, though this man’s pronunciation was rough, barely understandable.

  Obey, or go back.

  She struggled to grasp the things that she was experiencing. Air against her face. Warmth. Light against her eyes. The physicality of everything around her as it came into focus.

  She paused.

  “Evatha,” she rasped.

  Asha’s eyes snapped open and she sat bolt upright in her bed.

  She just stayed like that for a few moments, staring, trembling at the intensity of the dream. Sweat dripped from every pore, and her nightclothes and sheets were sodden with it. Gradually, her mind recovered, focused, accepted that she was who she was and that it had all been in her head.

  She rose, muscles aching from where they had tensed for too long, and mechanically changed into fresh clothes. Light was showing at the edges of the curtains; she drew them back to reveal a sunny early morning outside. All was quiet. Peaceful.

  She closed her eyes, steadying herself. She’d just been through a traumatic experience, knew the terror of her time in the catacombs had probably been fuel for a rough night.

  But that had to have been more than just a nightmare.

  One of the men she’d seen had been Taeris, though she almost hadn’t put that face together with the man she currently knew. He’d been younger. Without scars. Handsome, despite the fear in his eyes.

  The other—the one Taeris had called Thell—hadn’t been Laiman Kardai. That man had been heavyset, broad, with hazel eyes and jet-black hair.

  She shook her head, trying to decide if this affected her plans for the morning. It had taken her upward of an hour to get out of the catacombs—though how she’d known the way back to the Sanctuary, she still didn’t understand. Whenever the passageway had branched, she’d just been certain of which way she needed to go.

  After sneaking back past the Tol Athian guards and arriving at the palace in the dead of night—only to discover that Wirr was no longer there—Asha had settled for sleeping, fully intending to go to Taeris in the morning with what she’d seen. She wasn’t entirely sure how long she’d been gone, but she didn’t think it was long enough for anyone to be looking for her. Sleep had seemed the best option.

  She washed the sheen of sweat from her face absently as she pondered what she’d seen, then squared her shoulders and walked out the door, at first failing to register the two uncomfortable-looking young men sitting on the hallway couch opposite her room.

  “Representative Chaedris.” The handsome boy on the left leaped to his feet first, straight black hair looking unkempt from where he’d evidently been running his hands through it. “I’m glad to see you’re well.”

  “Iain.” Asha stared at him blankly for a moment, then groaned inwardly when she understood why he was there. “I’m terribly sorry, but perhaps we can talk later? I’m in something of a rush,” she explained hurriedly.

  “Ah. I won’t take much of your time.” Iain gave her a winning smile. “I was just wondering if you had dinner plans for this evening.”

  Asha barely restrained a sigh. She’d spoken in passing to Iain a few times during Assembly—he was pleasant enough, and shared her tendency to quietly mock the Houses’ constant political bickering. But Taeris either hadn’t passed on her message or hadn’t been emphatic enough, because she had absolutely no interest in going down this road.

  Before she could speak, though, the other young man who had been waiting stood and coughed politely. Lyannis Tel’Rath was smaller than Iain, wiry rather than muscular. His sharp, bright blue eyes stood out even more on an otherwise plain-featured face, which was slightly flushed.

  “Actually … I’m hoping the Representative is already occupied tonight,” he interjected with a small, nervous smile, speaking more to Asha than to Iain. “Representative Sarr suggested you might be interested in—”

  Asha groaned, the act of opening her eyes far more painful than it should have been.

  Lyannis was kneeling over her with a concerned expression, looking lost. He breathed an audible sigh of relief when he saw her stirring. “Good to see you, Representative,” he said, giving her a wry smile. “If you wanted an evening to yourself that badly, you should have just told us so.”

  Asha gave a soft laugh, though it was quickly cut off by another groan. Her head felt as though it would split open. “What happened?”

  “You … fell.” Lyannis gestured, indicating that he was as mystified as her.

  There were voices farther down the corridor and a moment later Iain’s face joined Lyannis’s above her, expression just as worried. “You’re awake. Thank fates for that.” He nodded to Lyannis and they positioned themselves either side of her, gently helping her up onto the couch. “I’ve sent for the physician—”

  “No need.” Asha quickly forced herself to straighten, a rush of apprehension helping. She didn’t need more questions surrounding this. “I’m feeling fine. I didn’t sleep well—just a little light-headed.”

  “You really should see someone,” said Iain with a frown.

  “She says she’s fine, Iain,” Lyannis replied firmly.

  “The physician’s already been fetched,” argued Iain.

  Asha sighed, though softly enough that the two boys glaring at each other didn’t notice. She stood, forcing both of them to stand back a little.

  “I’m feeling much better now. Thank you for your help, but I really have to be on my way.” She hesitated. She didn’t want to be rude, but she didn’t have time for this, either. “And thank you both for the invitations—I’m honored you asked—but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.” She gave them what she hoped was an apologetic smile, then turned and hurried off before either boy could protest.

  She needed to talk to Brase.


  Asha faltered as she caught sight of the red-cloaked figure up ahead.

  For once she hoped that it was Dras; unpleasantly oily man that he was, at least she would need to do no more than force a smile and nod as she passed. It didn’t take more than a moment for her to recognize Taeris’s confident gait, though, and it was already too late to duck off to the side.

  “Ashalia!” There was genuine relief in Taeris’s voice as he called out to her, a smile splitting his horribly scarred features. “I’ve been looking for you,” he added, mild rebuke in his tone as she got closer. “I tried to find you last night and was told that you hadn’t been seen for some time. If you weren’t around this morning, I may have started to worry.”

  Asha hesitated, then came to a decision. What she’d seen in the Sanctuary was too important to withhold—and of everyone who she could currently talk to, Taeris was by far the best qualified to assess the information.

  “That’s something that we should discuss,” she said quietly, glancing around the crowded hallway. “Probably in a Lockroom.”

  Taeris’s eyebrows rose a little but he nodded immediately, gesturing for her to lead the way. Asha knew the locations of all the Lockrooms in the palace by heart now, and she and Taeris were soon seated in the closest one, the door closed.

  Without preamble, Asha began explaining what had happened. Her investigation in the Sanctuary. Her encounter with Isiliar, Vhalire, and the Echo. The catacombs. She carefully modified the story at points, omitting mention of her Veil, but otherwise relating everything she thought was important.

  Taeris listened in silence, his expression initially one of vaguely unsurprised concern, but by the end more thoughtful than stern. He sighed.

  “Well. I suppose given the circumstances, we can leave exactly how you’ve been managing to get down there for later,” he said drily. “You’re quite certain about the names you heard?”

  “Yes.” Asha leaned forward. “You recognized some of them, didn’t you?”

  Taeris inclined his head.

  “Alaris was the name of someone who tried to fool Caeden, to have him killed not long before the battle with the Blind,” he said quietly. “The others …” He scratched his head, frowning. “Isiliar. Wereth. Alaris. When grouped together like that they all seem vaguely familiar, but fates take it if I can place from where. I’ll look into them, anyway. See what I can find.”

  “What about Tal’kamar?” pressed Asha. She’d seen the glimmer of recognition in Taeris’s eyes at the name, and it was by far the one that she was most curious about. Tell her that Tal’kamar is taking Licanius to the Wells. She’d delivered Davian’s message to the Shadraehin, but she still had less than no idea of what it had meant.

  Taeris hesitated. “You really think that this woman—Isiliar—was not in possession of all her faculties?”

  “Fairly certain,” said Asha drily.

  Taeris nodded, looking vaguely relieved. “Tal’kamar, I think, is Caeden’s real name. His name before he lost his memory,” he explained. “Alaris called him that—as did the sha’teth, though it was using High Darecian at the time, and I don’t think that the others ever picked up on it.”

  Asha stared at him, horrified. “The things Isiliar said about him—”

  “Sound like the ramblings of a madwoman. Someone consorting with the sha’teth. An enemy of ours if there ever was one,” said Taeris firmly. “You were there a month ago. You know that Caeden is on our side.”

  Asha subsided, acceding the point but still not entirely convinced. Caeden was the reason that the Blind had been defeated—there was no arguing that. But then, remembering Isiliar’s words—the complete and utter conviction in her tone, how she had described him as a monster—Asha couldn’t help but feel a sliver of uncertainty.

  “So Vhalire is dead,” said Taeris quietly, changing the topic slightly. “And he told you to hide the blade after you used it?”

  “He said Isiliar would be able to track me if I kept it,” affirmed Asha. She’d been reluctant to leave herself without a weapon, but Vhalire’s warning about the sword had been clear enough. With Isiliar’s screams still ringing in her ears, she’d concealed it under some rubble in a side passage, not minutes after beginning her flight.

  Taeris nodded slowly. “And afterward, you say you suddenly knew the way out?”

  Asha frowned at the Representative’s expression. “You think that was connected to the sword, somehow?” She’d considered the possibility herself—though she had been more inclined to think that it was some strange side effect of her killing Vhalire—but in either case, she didn’t know enough to even theorize how the two could be related.

  “Perhaps,” acceded Taeris thoughtfully, though he appeared to be talking to himself more than to her now. He shook his head, then focused on her again. “Do you think that you could find your way back to where you hid it?”

  Asha hesitated. “Probably not.” That was a lie; she knew those tunnels now, knew the exact spot where she’d buried it. But even if she thought that retrieving the unsettling blade was a good idea—which she didn’t—right now, the idea of going back down into those darkened passageways wasn’t something she could face.

  “Hmm.” Taeris looked disappointed, but didn’t press. “The information alone is certainly valuable, anyway. I will let the Deilannis expedition know about these names you overheard—if they have time, they can look them up while they’re there.”

  Asha nodded, relieved that he was letting the matter drop. “When do they leave?”

  “Tomorrow. Later than I’d hoped, to be honest.” Taeris rubbed his forehead tiredly. “It’s been hard, finding the right people to go. Most who believe that the Boundary collapsing is actually a serious threat have already gone north. Of the rest, half think that a trip to Deilannis is a waste of time, and the other half—the ones who actually know something about it—think that it’s a suicidal waste of time.”

  Asha winced. “I’m glad to hear that it’s finally happening, anyway,” she said quietly. “From Davian’s description of it, there would have to be something in that library that could help the Augurs figure out how to seal the Boundary.” That was the official reason the expedition had been formed—though from what she had overheard of the conversation between Taeris and Laiman, Asha privately suspected that there was more to it.

  “Let’s hope so.” Taeris grunted. “Though to be honest, it may not even matter if the Augurs don’t start moving soon.”

  “What do you mean?”

  The Representative sighed. “They’re still in the south. Fine, but still at Tol Shen.”

  “Oh.” Asha’s heart sank. “I didn’t know that there had been any news.”

  Taeris shrugged. “I have my sources.”

  Asha frowned, but nodded. Shen had been frustratingly silent over the past couple of weeks, and their promised updates to the Assembly had failed to materialize more than once. She had no idea where Taeris was getting his information, but he had no reason to lie.

  She stood. “I’m glad to hear that they’re well, at least,” she said sincerely. She glanced out the window. “If you’ll excuse me though …”

  “Of course.” Taeris peered at her. “Just don’t forget about our meeting with Lord si’Veria in a few hours.”

  Asha rolled her eyes, but nodded. “I’ll be there.”

  She left, then headed straight for the palace gates.

  Tol Athian’s library, as always, was quiet at this time of the evening.

  Only a few Gifted were reading tomes in private, well-lit corners, and they ignored her entrance. Much to Asha’s relief, Brase was sitting behind the desk at the door. He brightened when he saw her.

  “Representative,” he said jovially. “Just the person I wanted to talk to. I have an enormous headache. Would you like to know why?”

  “Because you fell down and hit your head … perhaps three hours ago?”

  Brase grunted. “Well. That takes the fun out of it. Can I as
sume that you’re not basing that guess on my natural lack of coordination?”

  Asha shrugged slightly, face carefully neutral.

  Brase narrowed his eyes, even as the corners of his mouth curled upward. “Can I take it that the fresh scrape on your hand is also from a natural lack of coordination, then?”

  Asha grinned in response to that, though the smile quickly faded. “So it affected both of us at about the same time,” she said quietly. “What about the others?”

  Brase sighed. “In my constructive and lively discussions with them, I’ve managed to extricate that they have been experiencing something similar. Nothing more than that, though. Nothing so exciting as specific times. They’re terrified that someone will find out and … I don’t know.” He shook his head, looking caught between amusement and disgust. “They only told me once I promised not to tell anyone else.”

  “Good thing you’re so untrustworthy, then,” Asha observed wryly.

  Brase smiled cheerfully in response. “So what’s next? I’ve looked in every book I can think of, but …” He shrugged. “I’m not sure that there’s anywhere we’d be able to find out more about something like this.”

  Asha thought for a long moment, chewing her lip.

  “Actually,” she said slowly, thinking back to her conversation with Taeris. “I can think of at least one place.”

  Chapter 21

  Caeden opened his eyes, surprised to find himself without pain.

  He was still lying in the street but he’d evidently been moved to the outer edge of the snow-bound city; it was warmer again and the buildings stretching away above him were well lit, with none of the wild flickering that marked the area closer to the center. All was silent.

  The memory of what he’d done to Isiliar came flooding back, sending an acidic trickle of bile to his throat. He’d done that to his friend. He’d shut her in that device and left her there, even knowing how terrible it would be for her. He’d done that to his friend.

 

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