Shadow Blessed (The Shadow Accords Book 1) (14 page)

Two of the A’ras branched off, leaving the other three moving on their own. Carth debated which way to follow. If she trailed the group of the three who appeared to head toward the royal palace, she might get to see where they trained. But if she followed the pair of A’ras, she might discover what else they did in the city.

Carth followed the three.

People continued to give them space as they moved through the city, but Carth was surprised that the farther she went into the city, the less concerned people were about passing them. Whereas near the docks, people hid, the streets completely clearing, the closer she got to the palace, the less space formed around them. They still moved unencumbered, but it wasn’t anything that made it seem like people were actually worried about them.

Carth followed more easily now, no longer having to seem as if she moved away from them. Now she could flow with the pace of people on the street, moving along the street behind them, tailing them closely enough that she didn’t really fear being caught.

The palace gleamed in the distance. Carth had never been this close to it before. Many in the city made a point of visiting, if only to lay eyes on the royal family’s home, but since living along the docks with Vera and Hal, she hadn’t had the need or desire to come this deep into the city. The exposure to the man who had nearly killed Kel had been enough for her.

The A’ras passed through the gate. Carth waited, staring after them, wishing she could follow them through, but the gate led into the palace grounds. Entering through it in the daylight risked more exposure than she was willing.

She trekked on, making her way slowly along the wall before stopping. There was nothing she could do that wouldn’t draw too much attention.

As she looked up at the wall, curiosity about what happened on the other side nearly overwhelmed her. She might not be able to climb it in the daylight, fearing that not only would the A’ras see her, but others along the street would and might alert the A’ras. If she waited until it was dark… then she might be able to venture over and discover what the A’ras did, and maybe how they managed some of their magic. Maybe she’d find a way to learn
why
her parents were gone. Either way, it was time to stop waiting around and get on with what needed to get done.

N
ight fell quickly
when the sun finally descended. In some parts of the city, night came on as a gradual change, a descent from the light of day to the steadily rising moon. Near the palace, it felt more abrupt. Carth decided that was good, as she didn’t think that she could wait much longer.

She should have returned to the Lyre. Remaining here instead of going back to the docks would only leave Vera and Hal worried, but Carth feared that if she did go, she wouldn’t have the strength of will to return. At least by remaining, she forced herself to focus on the A’ras. If she went back to the docks and to the Wounded Lyre, she wouldn’t come back tonight. It was possible she wouldn’t come back at all.

The longer she remained near the tall wall separating the rest of Nyaesh from the royal family, the more she thought about the A’ras. While waiting, she struggled to remember all that she could about them, trying to remember what it was her parents had taught her.

The A’ras were users of a kind of magic they were born to, something of a blood magic. Her father had told her that once, though Carth didn’t really know what that meant. There were other types of magic, some that she doubted that she’d ever experience, from people who could use different metals to create power to those with enhanced vision. Even men and women who could glimpse the future. Most power came from a combination. A person had to be born with a certain potential, and if they were, they had to find the right trigger for their power.

Carth worried that her presence here would draw attention. The longer she remained, the more she wondered if others on the street would notice her and comment about her presence, but so far she didn’t think anyone had. She didn’t stay in one place for too long, but didn’t make any attempt to collect scraps while she was here either, not wanting to run the risk of drawing any more attention to herself than needed. Every so often, she squeezed the hilt of the knife she carried, using it as a reassurance that she would be fine.

As the sun set and the moon began to rise, a strange drumming began to build.

Carth listened, wondering if it came from the other side of the wall, but then realized that it came from within the city. Other instruments joined the drumming, lifting into the night with a celebratory energy that had her foot tapping before she realized what she did. Her body felt pulled by the music, drawn away from the wall.

She followed the sound, a mixture of curiosity and the knowledge that she had time to spare pulling her along the street. It came not from a tavern, but from a small square where a crowd of people danced along to the music. The sounds built, stronger and stronger, a steady drumming that mixed with piercing horns and the sweet sounds of the lyre. A fire leaped toward the sky, giving a bright light to the night.

What festival was this?

Men wore costumes, masks over their faces, and most had long robes as well. Women were dressed more scantily. More than a few barely covered their breasts, and had chosen tight wraps that left little to the imagination, revealing their curves. Carth’s plain dress was out of place here.

Street vendors had set up shop. Some sold roasted meats and breads, and others had mugs of ale available. The festivities drew her in and she longed to be a part of them, but that wasn’t the reason she was here.

Carth pulled herself away from the festival, hoping she would have time to return before the night was over, but she intended to climb the wall. With the revelry, there was already a distraction, one that she could use to her advantage.

When she reached the wall, darkness had set in fully, and she quickly scaled the wall, not wanting to linger any longer.

She didn’t let herself think about what she did. If she considered the climb, and the fact that it would take nothing more than a few people noticing her to draw the attention of the A’ras, she would have gone running back to the docks. A desire for answers—or if not answers, at least knowledge—pulled her over.

On the other side, she clung to the stone, searching for shadows, but there were none. Ivy crept along the stone and copses of trees grew in places, mixed with rows of hedges lining walkways. Lanterns fought against the darkness, each blazing with a bright yellow light that pushed back the night. She ducked behind the hedges, using them as a barrier to keep from getting noticed as she slipped through the palace grounds.

With each step, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she shouldn’t be here. If the royal family discovered her, she would be dragged off to prison, or possibly a much worse fate, one where they would torment her. Then the prospect of losing a hand for collecting scraps wouldn’t seem quite so bad.

Yet, if she could understand the A’ras, then she could chase down information about Felyn and eventually learn what had happened to her parents. That was all that she cared about anymore.

Carth moved carefully along the grounds, but no one else was out. The walkways were empty and she saw nothing, not even any sign of guards. She might as well follow the paths openly rather than hide as she did.

She trailed along the hedge. The music from the festival pressed against her, a pulsing sort of rhythm that became more muted the farther she slunk away from the wall, but she still could hear elements of the music, like the occasional loud shriek from one of the horns, or a heavier drumming as the music reached a crescendo. It gave a sense of urgency to the night.

The lantern light faded as she neared the palace, the space between the lanterns spreading, casting greater shadows that stretched longer. Carth lingered in the shadows, using them to obscure herself, thinking of how her father had taught her to use the darkness to her advantage. That had been another game, but one she had only been in the early stages of learning.

A flicker of movement caught her attention.

Carth hesitated, wishing she could drape herself in darkness, wanting to pull it around her like a blanket to hide within. She refused to move, not daring to risk exposing herself here. There came another movement, but she couldn’t see what it was.

Her heart hammered heavily—and probably loudly. If she didn’t move, she would be caught. She was too in the open, too exposed, but moving—even a little—would draw more attention.

Letting out a slow breath, she thought of what her father had taught her of sinking into the shadows.
Let it surround you. Shadow is as real as light, only shadow you can use.

His voice drifted to the forefront of her mind, making her miss him more than she had in some time. She could almost hear his words the same as she had heard them when he’d whispered them in her ear when she had first learned.

Sink into the shadows. Draw them around you like a cloak.

Movement appeared closer. Carth considered making a run for it, but that would definitely draw attention. What she needed was a way to do what her father had instructed.

Think like the shadow and become a part of it.

A flush washed through her and her skin felt warm. A cold sweat beaded on her brow and she barely considered wiping it away.

Find the edge of darkness and use it.

Carth’s gaze darted around the grounds. A muted voice came to her, as if through a fog. Near one of the lanterns, she found an edge of darkness, but how to use it?

She stared at it, focusing on it, wishing to be a part of it so that she could hide.

Night thickened around her.

Carth didn’t move.

Footsteps tapped along cobbles, but the sound seemed to come from a distance, different than what it should have been. The voice came again, at once more distant and closer, a strange combination. She stood unmoving, a statue in the night, praying that shadows would remain around her and keep her hidden.

Slowly, the sound and the movement eased.

This had been the stupidest thing she had ever done. Why risk coming here? What did she really think she could learn? The A’ras might find her, and if they did, she would be dead before she could get any answers.

With her heart still hammering, she turned and slowly, steadily, made her way back toward the wall. She stayed hidden between the shadows of the lanterns. Thankfully, they seemed dimmer than before, more willing to hide her. As she climbed up the wall, she paused near the top, the crawling sensation along her spine making her think someone had noticed her. Without waiting any longer, she dropped to the other side and hurried into the crowd, praying that she hadn’t been seen.

As the throng of people out celebrating surrounded her, she saw a shimmering cloak and a flash of maroon behind her, and realized that she must have been.

C
arth hurried forward
. As much as she might want to run, she knew that running would only draw even more attention. At least by going in a controlled fashion, walking at a fast but reasonable pace, she could blend into the crowd. She made her way toward the music, wanting to let the rhythmic sounds of the festival help hide her and knowing that the busier that it was, the easier time she would have of hiding.

A shout from behind her told her that the A’ras neared.

Carth moved more quickly. She bounced off a few people and slipped around others. There would be no hiding in shadows here, nothing of the darkness that she could use to protect herself. Finding her way to safety meant getting free of the A’ras tailing her, if she could.

She thought of how she had always managed to follow her mother. Carth had used the sounds of her footsteps and the color of her hair or her dress to keep a visual connection. With the sound of the festival, she didn’t have to worry about noise, but her dress stood out. What she needed was a costume.

And quickly.

She bumped into another man, this one with a well-cut robe, his face shielded by a mask made of black lace that surrounded his eyes. Carth dipped her hand into his pocket as she bumped into him, pulling out his coin purse before hurrying away.

At least now she had a way to pay for a costume.

She hurried to the side of the street, searching for the vendors. They were less frequent here, though as she made her way toward the music, the crowd thickened, making it more difficult to move quickly. The A’ras would have no such challenges. People moved out of their way, not wanting to suffer their wrath or risk their sword. What Carth wouldn’t give to have that kind of power.

There! She saw a vendor selling masks… and gowns.

She tipped the contents of the purse into her hand and counted. Five silver vens. Would that be enough?

It seemed a fortune, especially considering how excited Kel and Etan got when they managed to find a couple coppers, but this was near the palace and there would be a difference in price.

She hurried to the stand, risking a glance over her shoulder.

Not only one A’ras, but two. And they headed toward her.

“How much for the mask?” Carth asked the vendor quickly.

The man had a bulbous bright red nose, and as he leaned toward her, a leering grin crossed his face. “Girl like you out for the Laseer Festival alone?”

She shook her head, thinking quickly. The fact that he commented on her age made her suddenly aware that she was the youngest person around. There had been no children at this festival.

What had she been thinking?

There would be time for berating herself later. For now, she needed to hide.

“Girl? I’m nearly eighteen,” Carth said, pulling her back straighter and thrusting out her chest slightly. There was no way that she could pass for eighteen normally, but maybe with the festival and with people drunk on ale and wine, she might have a chance. “And my future husband is…” She made a show of looking around, noting that the A’ras were within two dozen steps of her. The crowd was thicker here, slowing them, but there was little doubt that they came in her direction. “Over there.” She pointed to a muscular man near her. “How much for the mask?”

The vendor’s gaze drifted to the man and then back to Carth. “Four vens.”

Carth gritted her teeth. Four. The money was not hers and she didn’t really have the time to bargain with him anyway, but the price was outrageous. “Throw in the gown and I’ll give you five.” She set the stack of silver on the counter in front of him.

The man started to look past her. If he saw the A’ras, he would be less likely to finish the transaction.

“What do you say? Or should I have my future husband come make a bargain?” she asked sweetly.

The vendor’s gaze pulled back down to her and he smiled, grabbing a rolled gown and one of his masks and handing them to her.

Carth took them and spun, hurrying to the side.

She ducked down, slipping on the mask and quickly unrolling the robe, hoping that it fit well enough. It didn’t have to be perfect. Few that she’d seen wore anything too well fitted, but she didn’t want to give the A’ras any reason to notice her.

The crowd began to part behind her.

That was all the sign that she needed to know that the A’ras were near.

She stood carefully and made a show of standing close to a man near her. She wasn’t tall enough for eighteen and had to stand on her toes to look taller, but at least this way she could create the impression of being with someone.

As the crowd separated around the A’ras, she followed the man. He had a muscular build and his robe draped to the ground, dragging behind him, so that Carth had to be careful she didn’t step on it. He glanced at her, and she smiled, hoping that he wouldn’t try anything.

The A’ras moved past.

Carth tensed, her hand reaching for her pocket and the knife she carried with her. If nothing else, she could attack them and use the chaos of the festival to hide.

What had gotten into her? Could she really be thinking about attacking the A’ras this openly? Attacking would be suicide.

Unless she could sneak behind them.

They were responsible for what had happened to her mother. She might not have seen how they killed her, but the A’ras had been there. She might not get vengeance on Felyn—Carth didn’t want to see him again—but there was the hope that she could find a way to get some revenge on the A’ras.

She left the man, slipping away from him as she wound through the crowd, slipping behind the A’ras. She followed them, letting the way the crowd parted ahead of her guide her. As she went, she pulled the knife from within her pocket.

The knife felt cold in her hand, colder than it had ever felt before.

Maybe that was because the knife knew what she intended.

As she approached the A’ras, barely only five paces away, they turned toward her.

Had she made a mistake? Had they known that she was there?

Carth didn’t think that she’d been that loud. She glanced around and realized that no one else approached the A’ras. She stood alone in the middle of a crowd, wearing a mask and a gown and holding a knife.

One of the A’ras glanced at the knife.

They reached for their swords as one.

Carth froze. She wanted to run, to disappear and find a place where they wouldn’t reach her, but the crowd grew more and more distant as she stood there, as if they withdrew, knowing what the A’ras would do.

There was no way she would be able to use this knife against them, not when they came at her with swords.

The knife went colder in her hand.

Her skin burned with energy and felt as if it were pulled tight, as if she’d been standing in the sun for too long. A strange muffling filled her ears and she became unaware of anything else, unable to take her eyes off the A’ras.

They approached her casually. There was no urgency, no concern that she might run or that she might attack them. These were men who knew that she would—that she
could
—go nowhere.

Was this the effect of their magic?

There were stories of the A’ras magic, but she’d never experienced it before. She had never wanted to.

Carth tried pulling away. If nothing else, she could slip the knife back into her pocket, try to pretend that she hadn’t carried it, or that she hadn’t intended to use it against the A’ras. Her hand wouldn’t work. Nothing worked, as if her mind couldn’t control her body.

The knife remained cold, practically burning her skin.

The A’ras were almost upon her.

She could smell them now, a mixture of scents that reminded her of the herbalist shop. Notes of pine and slick oil combined together, the effect intoxicating. One of the swords moved, and Carth followed its movement.

“Kneel.”

The voice was gravelly and she could do nothing but obey.

She went to her knees, staring at the A’ras and the wrap around his head that covered his mouth and chin, leaving only his eyes visible. A part of her mind rebelled, raging to stand, to fight, to do anything but what the A’ras wanted of her, but she didn’t. She couldn’t.

As much as she wanted to slip the knife away and hide it, her hand wouldn’t move.

The only thing that seemed to work was her mind. It raced, running through the terrifying thoughts of what would happen to her. Would the A’ras simply end her here, or would they try ask her why she had climbed the wall into the palace yard? What would she answer if they did?

“What is your name?” the other A’ras said. He didn’t have the same wrap around his head, but the thick beard on his chin hid his lips as he spoke.

“Carth.” She answered in spite of her desire
not
to answer, in spite of the fact that she knew that she should not answer. Giving her name to the A’ras meant that were she able to escape, they would have a way to find her.

“Where did you obtain that blade?” the bearded man asked.

“The A’ras.”

The man stepped closer. Strangely, he appeared to hesitate. “You would not have taken a knife from one of the A’ras.”

“They were dead.”

The bearded man glanced at the other. “They?”

“There were three. They were killed.”

“She lies, Ah-rahn.”

The bearded man stared at the knife. “Does she? Look at the blade she carries. Remember what happened to Al-shad.”

Carth had heard that name before, but didn’t know when. Where had she heard it?

“Give me the knife.”

She wanted nothing more than to hand the knife to the A’ras, but her arm didn’t work. She couldn’t lift it and couldn’t release the hilt of the blade.

“The knife,” Ah-rahn said. “Hand it to me.”

Carth tried, but it was as if the chill in the blade prevented her from lifting her hand. She could no more hand the knife to him than she could open her mouth and refuse.

The other A’ras took a step toward her. Carth readied for the swing of his sword and the inevitable pain, but then there would be nothing, and she would be reunited with her mother and father. Would that not be worth the brief pain?

The A’ras with the wrap over his face grunted and fell to the ground.

Carth wanted to look to see what had happened, but Ah-rahn approached, his sword already moving. She couldn’t even close her eyes; she would have to watch as the sword struck.

Ah-rahn took another step toward her. It seemed as if time slowed. His sword swung.

And then stopped.

His head tipped to the side and a confused expression crossed his face. His sword dropped from his hand and clattered to the stone. As it did, whatever spell held her in place released her.

Carth jumped to her feet and jabbed the knife at him, wanting to stab him in the stomach or chest, wanting revenge for her parents, but someone grabbed her wrist.

She jerked her hand away, trembling with fear. When she turned, she expected another A’ras, but there was not.

Instead, a familiar face looked at her. Rather than a blank and unreadable expression as he usually wore, concern pulled at the corners of Jhon’s eyes. “Easy,” he said softly.

“What are you doing here?”

He glanced over her shoulder. “I would ask you the same, but it seems that we don’t have time for questions. Perhaps we can speak if we get free of this.”

Jhon pulled on her arm, dragging her down the street, away from the palace. Carth hazarded a look over her shoulder and noted that three more A’ras appeared. One stopped and knelt next to the two that had attacked her, while the other two continued after them. Her skin felt tight and she detected the strange sizzling sensation on her flesh that she’d noticed when the A’ras used their magic before.

“You will have to obscure us,” Jhon said.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Like you did in the palace yard. If we are to escape, you will have to obscure us. Now that they have sighted me, that is the only way we’ll get free of them.”

The corners of his eyes twitched, the same way her father’s did when he struggled. She glanced back and realized that the A’ras still trailed her, and wondered if they had used their magic to attack.

“Hurry!” Jhon urged. He pulled them into an alley. The tight sensation to her skin didn’t change.

“I don’t know what you mean. How can I obscure us?”

Jhon pushed her up against the wall, flattening them into the growing darkness. “You are shadow blessed, Carth of Ih-lash.”

“Shadow blessed?”

“There’s no time to explain now. You must repeat what you did on the palace grounds. I followed you, but then you disappeared. There is only one way you would disappear from me, the same way you managed to hide me when your friend attacked. I should have seen it earlier.”

The only thing she had done was try to sink into the shadows. That had been the trick her father had demonstrated, a way of masking herself. It was one she’d struggled with, and now he claimed it made her shadow blessed?

“They are almost upon us,” Jhon said more calmly than she felt.

Her heart raced, panic setting in. She didn’t need for Jhon to tell her that the A’ras were nearly upon them. She could feel the dangerous pull of their magic, the way her skin felt and the sizzling energy that crackled in the air.

What she had done in the palace yard had been attempting to sink into the shadows. Could she really do that? Was there some sort of magic to her?

Her skin sizzled even more, growing ever tighter.

Carth couldn’t delay attempting.

She focused on the shadows around them, searching for the edge of it as her father had taught her, and found it near the mouth of the alley. Once she found it, she pulled on it, drawing the shadows around her as she did, letting herself fade backward into the darkness, into the shadows.

Darkness grew like a fog around her. Jhon became almost insubstantial next to her. Sounds became muted. She held her breath, afraid to do anything, afraid to say anything.

The tension faded from her skin, and the energy in the air dissipated somewhat.

Muted footsteps thudded past. Through the darkness, Carth caught sight of a hint of maroon and recognized the A’ras passing.