“I’m not sure it matters.”
“Really? When you see a place that is alive, you’ll know the difference. It’s… it’s like nothing else.”
“Like Thyr?”
Dillon swept his gaze along the street. “Thyr was different a long time ago. Everything I’ve heard about it tells me it was a place much like this. The people were scared, ruled over by men quite a bit like your Ai’thol. When they were destroyed, when their presence was removed from the city, the city rebounded. It took some time, but now it’s stronger.”
“Let me guess, Lareth was responsible for destroying these people.”
“I don’t know.”
Ryn continued to look across the street. Ai’thol patrolled along the wall leading into the palace. It was a low wall, no more than six feet tall, and with the palace situated on a hillside behind it, the wall didn’t block any view of the palace grounds or the palace itself. It did little more than create a minor barricade, a separation between the people within the city and those who lived on the palace grounds.
“You believe you’ll find safety there?”
“I hope so. When I was here the last time, the people here treated us well.”
“They had to.”
“They didn’t have to.”
Dillon smiled. “I doubt they were willing to risk the wrath of the Great One.”
“You don’t understand. He has—”
“I know what you think he’s done. I’m just offering an alternative explanation.”
“It’s a wrong explanation.”
“Perhaps. You can prove to me it’s wrong.”
Darkness had begun to fall. A sliver of moon overhead cast a little bit of light, but barely enough for them to easily see. The city itself was quiet, even quieter than what she had experienced in Dreshen. There she had noted the sound of children and, when night fell, that of music and the occasional shout that rang out. Every so often, voices drifted along the streets, whispered conversation that she wouldn’t have heard were it not for her enhanced hearing.
It was different here.
There seemed to be nothing. It was almost as if everything was in perfect silence; there were only muted sounds like that of the occasional boot on stone. Even that was diminished, as if the people who were marching did so carefully so as not to draw attention to their passing.
“Do you think you can manage another traveling?”
Dillon looked over at her. His lids were heavy, and he seemed to be struggling to hold them up, but he nodded. “I think so. I don’t know how far we can go, but I think that I can get us one more. After that…”
Ryn pointed across the street. “It doesn’t have to be far, and afterward, you should be able to rest.”
“You intend to take us there.”
“Actually, I intend for you to take us there. I just hope the disciples will recognize me.”
“And if they don’t?”
She had her sigil, and she had the fact that she served the Great One, so she thought that was all that was necessary. If she needed more, she was going to be in trouble.
“They will.”
“But if they don’t?”
Ryn didn’t answer. Instead, she held out her hand, waiting for Dillon to take it. When he did, he entwined his fingers into hers. For a moment, he squeezed her hand, and then she nodded across the street. “Take us near the door.”
Dillon squeezed his eyes shut. She didn’t think it was necessary for him to do so, but perhaps with as weak as he’d become, he needed to. A wave of nausea started through her, building slowly. She resisted the urge to push or pull it away. She didn’t want to influence him in any way, worried she would send him somewhere else, far beyond where they intended to go. If she did, they might not be able to get back without giving him a chance to rest.
The nausea built differently than it had before. It was slow, a roiling that rose steadily from deep within her, and then it washed over, spilling out.
When they stepped free from the traveling, the palace suddenly looming overhead, she leaned forward, vomiting violently.
Dillon collapsed.
It took a moment for the effects of their travel to pass. When they did, Ryn looked around, half expecting several of the Ai’thol to come strolling toward her, but no one did. The palace grounds were mostly silent. The patrols were on the other side of the wall, not on this side, as if they didn’t expect anyone to attempt to cross. Perhaps they didn’t.
“Get up, Dillon.”
He groaned, rolling off to the side, but he didn’t open his eyes.
“You need to get up. We need to get into the palace so that we can get you some rest.”
“I’m going to rest here,” he said.
“You don’t want to do that,” she said.
“I do. This is fine.”
“I just threw up right near you.”
Dillon cocked open one eye. “You did?”
She nodded and pointed to where she had vomited. “That felt different than the others.”
“It was harder. I… I think I’ve pushed myself farther than I ever have before.”
“Maybe that means you’ll be stronger the next time.”
“Or maybe it means that I won’t be able to transport myself ever again.”
“I doubt that’s the case.”
Dillon got to his knees and looked around the courtyard. Ryn followed the direction of his gaze. Even in the darkness, she was able to make out the garden and the various paths leading around it. It had fallen into somewhat of a state of disrepair, though there were patches of the garden that still bloomed vibrantly with flowers of many different colors, as if a reminder of what had once been here. It seemed as if the Ai’thol didn’t care so much for the beauty that could be created in the garden.
Grabbing on to Dillon’s hand, she pulled him to his feet.
“Do you think you can walk?”
“A little while longer, but I don’t know how much more I can do. I doubt I’d be able to transport us again.”
“Let’s hope it’s not necessary.”
“Even if it were necessary, I don’t know that it would work. I… I worry it would kill me.”
Ryn nodded. The palace would be safe. It had to be.
She guided Dillon toward the main entrance of the palace. Once there, she expected to find Ai’thol guards, but there were none. Pulling open the doors, stepping inside, she paused. The floors were all a slick marble, and massive pillars rose up, framing a wide staircase that swept around, leading to the second level. A catwalk led along the upper level, looking down at the main hallway. Sculptures and paintings and exquisitely designed carpets adorned the palace.
“Look at all this,” Dillon breathed out.
“This was all here before.”
“I’m not surprised, I’m just… look at it!”
Ryn nodded, heading toward the staircase. When she reached it, she hesitated. She had been here for a month with the Great One, long enough for her to know how to navigate, and finding where one of the disciples would be located shouldn’t be difficult, and yet, she wasn’t sure where to start her search.
It was still early evening, and she remembered the exquisite meals they had had, though she didn’t know if that was for the benefit of the Great One.
Ryn turned away from the staircase.
“Where are you going?”
“The dining hall.”
“There’s a whole hall for dining?”
“This is the palace, Dillon. It was designed for entertaining.”
“It was designed as a pompous display of wealth.”
She frowned at him. “Sometimes there’s value in such displays of wealth. It demonstrates power.”
“Where do you think they got the money from?”
Ryn looked around before shrugging. “I don’t know.”
“I imagine from the people living beyond the wall.”
She thought he might elaborate, but he didn’t. Instead he
followed her wordlessly as she wound through the main level, turning down a side hallway and heading toward the dining hall. Memories of staying here came flooding back to her, and she barely had to think about where she was going, so that when she turned off onto the wide hallway that led to the dining hall she started to feel relaxed.
Reaching the door, she hesitated, listening.
Several voices drifted out, and she didn’t recognize any of them.
“What is it?” Dillon whispered.
She raised a hand, quieting him.
“How much longer will we have to keep up this charade?” a voice from the other side of the door said.
“It’s not a charade. We do what’s necessary.”
“There’s an alternative.”
“You know the alternative is useless, the same as I do.”
“It’s not useless. You’ve seen what he’s demonstrated.”
“We’ve seen how he claims his additions are effective, but we have no proof of it.”
“According to him, we will soon.”
Ryn stepped back, glancing over to Dillon. The conversation was a strange one, and it didn’t make sense to her. Why would they be having a debate about this? It sounded… almost treasonous.
Could the Great One have lost control over the Ai’thol?
She thought that was unlikely. He’d led the Ai’thol for a long time, certainly long enough that others had seen the nature of his thinking and planning. It was because of him that the Ai’thol had taken such a prestigious role within the world.
The sound of movement on the other side of the door caught her attention, and she turned away. Hurrying down the hall, she grabbed Dillon’s hand, pulling him along with her.
When they turned a corner, he looked over at her. “What is this?”
“I’m not sure. I heard—”
Ryn didn’t have the chance to finish. The sound of the door opening behind her caught her attention, and she slipped away, winding through the palace. She reached a staircase that headed down and took it.
With each step, her fear grew. Could she have left one dangerous place and ended up in another?
“What do you intend to do?”
“I intend to get you some rest.”
“Why?”
Ryn glanced up the stairs. From here, she couldn’t hear anything that suggested they were being followed, which reassured her a little bit. If they’d been followed, then she would need to move more quickly, and it was possible she’d need for Dillon to travel one more time, which wasn’t what she wanted.
What she wanted to do was to find answers, and having Dillon with her meant she had some measure of safety. She could escape if it came down to it.
If there was something more taking place, some plot against the Great One, she needed to know about it in order to report to him.
As she raced forward, hurrying along the hallway, she glanced back every so often, looking to see if there was anyone following her. So far, she didn’t detect anything, and she paused every so often to listen.
There was no sound.
She didn’t really expect there to be any noises down here. They were deep beneath the ground, far below where anyone would normally come. The walls were narrower here, and there was a dampness she recognized. It would be a good place for them to hide, though how long would she be able to do it?
She couldn’t sleep, not while there were others approaching, and not while there was danger coming her way.
When she reached the door, she paused, throwing it open. Standing there in the doorway, she hesitated for a moment, thankful she didn’t detect anything or anyone.
It was a closet, a storeroom. A row of shelves held buckets, and a mop leaned against one wall. It was enough to hide them. It would have to be good enough for her. Motioning for Dillon to join her, she headed into the storeroom, pulling the door closed.
“Here?”
Ryn nodded. “For now. Get some rest.”
“And what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to keep an eye on you.”
“Ryn—”
She shook her head, though she didn’t know if he would even be able to see it. “I don’t know what we might encounter when we go to them, but I’m determined to find out what they’re doing. I need you to be fully awake and ready to help.”
“I don’t know how long it will take me to recover.”
“Take what time you need. I’ll keep an eye on you.”
He watched her, but his lids were heavy, and every time he blinked, she could tell he struggled to stay awake. It wouldn’t be long before he drifted off completely.
Dillon laid his head back, sliding along the far wall until he was situated beneath the shelves. From here, the shadows concealed him for the most part.
Ryn sat, her arms wrapped around her legs, watching him.
As he drifted off, his breathing becoming steadier and more regular. She tried to focus her mind, but she was tired. After everything they’d gone through, after the hope and promise of reaching here—reaching safety—had been crushed, she wasn’t sure how she was going to stay awake.
Somehow, she would have to try.
With each passing moment, she listened for sounds outside the door that would suggest to her that they had been discovered, but there was no sign of that. There was no sign of anything.
Gradually, she found herself beginning to relax, to find a moment of peace, and despite her best effort to resist the urge to drift, she couldn’t help it. She started to slip away, fighting as sleep attempted to claim her. After everything she had experienced, it was a fight she couldn’t win.
32
Daniel
Reaching Keyall was difficult.
Part of it came from the fact that Daniel had never traveled this far to the south, though Rayen had. Part of it came from the fact that he had finally begun to reach the limits of his powers. Rayen had guided him continually south. At a certain point, they had to go by sight, since he had never traveled this far.
“How long do you think you need to rest?” Rayen asked.
It had been a little while since Rayen had gone off on Carth’s behalf, helping Haern with his issue—something he still wasn’t entirely sure what had happened. Lucy had coordinated it and now she was back with him.
Daniel sat with his legs crossed in front of him, staring out at the water. He took a few deep breaths, trying to gather himself, wanting to be prepared for the next step.
“I don’t know. It’s been a while since I’ve pushed myself like this.”
“If the shadows for you are anything like what they are for me, they should offer some restoration.”
“It would be nice if they did.” He breathed in deeply, thinking about the shadows and what he detected when he was Sliding, but he felt no sense of renewal.
Perhaps it only worked for her.
His ability was different than hers. He couldn’t control the shadows the way she could, manipulating them to mask himself in darkness. He couldn’t even imagine using them as a barrier the way she did. The one thing the shadows offered him was a connection to his Sliding.
He lay back, resting his head on his arms. Wind whistled around him, gusting up out of the south. Every so often, he caught a hint of something mixed with the sea breeze, a strange and pleasant aroma. It was a warm wind, reminding him of their journey into the jungle and toward Ceyaniah. He felt a little guilty that they hadn’t returned to Ceyaniah, though now that he’d been there, it shouldn’t be difficult to return.
“Why do you think the shadows are different for me and you?” he asked.
Rayen took a seat next to him, crossing her legs and sitting upright as she stared out into the distance. “There are probably many reasons, but the most likely would be that I grew up influenced by them.”
“You didn’t live near the chamber of shadows.”
Rayen shook her head. “No. I didn’t, but my family had.”
“They did?”
>
Rayen nodded. “It was a long time ago, but they didn’t live all that far from where we’d been. I think that’s part of the key when it comes to the gifts the Elder Stones grant. Some of it is proximity to the stone itself. With enough time, the stone changes someone.”
“By that, you’re saying that I needed more time with the stone.”
“Possibly. I don’t know if you would gain control over shadows if you were to remain in the chamber for longer.”
He thought about what he knew of his abilities. There were some who suggested that people born outside of Elaeavn didn’t have the same strength with their abilities as those born within the city. In that case, proximity to the sacred crystals made a difference.
Why, though? If what they believed was true—that the crystals were not an Elder Stone but something else—then why would it make any difference?
“You still have control over the shadows,” he said.
“Mine is because my people lived in that land for as long as they did. Carth speculates that if I had been raised within our borders, my powers might have been even more potent.”
Daniel glanced at her. “Even more?”
“I know it’s hard for you to imagine me even more impressive than I already am,” Rayen said, smiling at him.
“What about Carth?”
“Carth isn’t all that different from me. She didn’t grow up in our homeland. By the time she was born, our peoples had begun to depart. War forced us away.”
“And yet, Carth is powerful with her connection to the shadows.”
“I imagine you wonder what it must be like for others, and how powerful they might be.”
That had been what he was thinking about. If there was such benefit to growing up in the land where the Elder Stone gave strength, what would have happened if Carth had done so?
“There simply aren’t that many who are shadow born,” Rayen said.
“That’s what you call yourself?”
“It’s how our people refer to us. Many were given the gift of the shadow blessing, and even that is considered incredibly valuable. Those who were touched more deeply, those who were truly shadow born, are rarer still.”
The Coming Chaos Page 31
