The Shadow Of What Was Lost (50 page)

Caeden blanched. “What?” The
exclamation rang out over the empty streets, and he clapped his hand over his
mouth. Whatever lurked in Seclusion, the last thing he wanted was to attract
its attention.

Gellen glanced around to check
there was no-one nearby, though they both knew they were alone here. “All your
trips Outside. Your neglecting your duties at the Cyrarium. And the incident
with Nethgalla didn’t go over well, either.”

Caeden snorted. Inwardly, he
didn’t know whether to be amused or fearful. “Where did you hear that?”

They had reached a black iron
gate; with a gentle push Caeden opened it enough for them to pass through into
the building beyond.

“Around,” replied Gellen.

Caeden frowned. “Needless to say,
it is untrue.” In some ways, it couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Of course,” said Gellen
smoothly.

They walked inside without
another word.

As Caeden's vision cleared, his
triumphant smile faded.

The sha’teth stood exactly where
it had. Its hand was outstretched, and a black, translucent rippling bubble
surrounded the creature’s body.

The sha’teth lowered its hand,
and the bubble disappeared. It gave a rasping laugh. “You truly have forgotten,
haven’t you, Tal’kamar,” it said to Caeden softly. Pityingly. “Aelrith was
caught by surprise when you attacked him, and Khaerish and Methaniel were
craven. But I am neither unprepared nor afraid.” It stood motionless, waiting.

Caeden hesitated, still shaken by
the memory. Like before, aspects of it were crystal clear - but there was no
further knowledge, no sudden rush of information to tell him who he’d been. He
could picture Gellen and knew his name, but knew nothing more of him outside of
that memory. And what he’d said about the sha’teth…

“Who do you serve?” he asked the
sha’teth suddenly, muscles tensed in case the creature attacked.

The creature chuckled. “Are you
not the one who set us free? Who do
you
serve, Tal’kamar?” it replied,
quietly enough that the others could not overhear. “I can never keep track.”

Caeden felt the blood drain from
his face. He dared not look back at the others. “I serve my friends, and
Andarra. Whatever ties I had in my past life are gone.” He said the words with
as much confidence as he could muster.

The sha’teth laughed again in its
raspy voice. “You cannot escape yourself forever.”

Suddenly a glow surrounded it,
and time seemed to slow. Bursts of light erupted from the sha’teth’s chest,
streaks of power that headed towards the other four members of Caeden’s party.
He knew instantly that should those bolts touch them, they would be dead.

There was only a moment to stop
them; even with his newfound control of Essence, he couldn’t shield them all.

He couldn’t choose, though. He
wanted to save them all. He
needed
to save them all.

Desperately, he willed the bolts
to stop.

Dark bubbles, exactly like the one
that had surrounded the sha’teth, sprang up around Caeden’s companions. The
bolts sizzled into the surface of each one and simply vanished, gone as if they
had never existed. The sha’teth gave an angry hiss as it realised its attack
had been thwarted.

“So. You have forgotten some, but
not all,” it said.

Caeden nodded, trying to hide the
fact that he was as surprised as the sha’teth that the bubbles had appeared.
“Not all,” he repeated grimly. He stretched out his hand once again towards the
creature.

This time, though, he didn’t use
Essence. There was something else there, the same thing he’d used to create his
companions’ shields. The bubble appeared again around the sha’teth, but Caeden
simply
pushed
at it. He felt it move, flex beneath his pressure. He
closed his eyes, then imagined himself ripping the bubble away, tearing it like
a piece of parchment.

There was a shriek, and he opened
his eyes to see the sha’teth on the ground, writhing in pain.

“No!” it screeched, angry and
despairing. “It is not possible!”

Caeden walked over to it,
ignoring the cautioning cries of the others, who hadn't moved since the
sha’teth had first appeared. He stood over the creature, then leaned down and
pulled back its hood.

Beneath there was a man’s head,
but it was disfigured, pale and scarred. That was not what made Caeden take an
involuntary step back, though. The creature’s eyes stared back at him with
pain, with anger. Human eyes.

Aside from its glare, now, the
sha’teth showed no further outward signs of distress. It had stopped writhing,
and was instead staring up at Caeden. It wore an almost curious expression.

“You should know. I was the one
who killed him,” it whispered. It wasn’t a confession; there was no trace of
sadness in the statement. It was gleeful.

Caeden frowned. “Who?”

The sha’teth scowled. It tried to
rise, but Caeden knelt on its chest, forcing it back down. For some reason, it
seemed unable to use its powers at the moment. “And I had so looked forward to
telling you,” it hissed, disappointed.

“You must finish it, Caeden!”
called Taeris, his tone urgent. “Don’t let it distract you!”

Caeden hesitated, then leaned
forward. “Who are you talking about?” He clenched his hand into a fist. “Why
did you come for me?” he whispered, low enough that the others could not
overhear. “Who wants me, and why?”

The sha’teth gave a rasping
laugh. “I will tell you - but it will be so all your friends can hear. So they
can know what kind of man you truly are.” It raised its voice, calling out the
words. “Can you all hear me?”

Caeden moved without thinking. He
drew back his hand, letting Essence flow through him and into his fist. Then he
drove it down into the sha’teth’s disfigured face.

There was a blinding light, and a
final scream from the creature.

When Caeden’s vision cleared, all
that remained was a pile of ash.

He knelt there, silent and
trembling, for what seemed like ages. Finally he felt a hand clasp him on the
shoulder. He looked up to see Taeris watching him, concerned.

“Are you hurt?” the older man
asked.

Caeden forced himself to stand,
still trying to comprehend what had happened. He had killed the creature. Had
it been the right thing to do? Would it have told the truth about who he was –
and if it had, would he have liked what it said?

He stared at the pile of ashes
morosely. There could be no knowing now.

“I’ll survive,” he said softly.

Wirr came to stand next to him,
looking at the ashes on the road in fascination. A gentle wind sprang up,
scattering some of them to the grass on the roadside. “How did you do that,
Caeden?” he asked. “The shields you gave us. I’ve never seen anything like it.
It wasn’t Essence.”

Caeden shook his head. Already
the memory of how to use that power was hazy again, though he knew it would not
fade entirely. There was something about Essence – something about wielding it
– that seemed to stimulate his memories, bringing them to the fore. He still
wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not, but it was valuable knowledge
nonetheless.

“I don’t know,” he admitted to
Wirr. “I just reacted instinctively, and they appeared.”

“Just in time,” noted Taeris. He
clapped Caeden on the back. “You saved our lives, lad.”

Caeden forced a smile. “Perhaps
it can go some way to paying you back for bringing the sha’teth down on you in
the first place,” he said wryly.

“That’s hardly your fault.”

Caeden started. It was Aelric who
had spoken, still standing a little distance away but looking at him with an
expression of vague approval. “We owe you a debt, Caeden.”

Not knowing what to say, Caeden
gave Aelric an appreciative nod. The five of them stared at the remains of the
sha’teth for a moment longer, then Taeris said, “We should get moving before
those other travellers come back and start asking questions.”

Caeden glanced up. The road ahead
was empty aside from scattered belongings and the four bodies a little further
along; everyone else had fled, running as hard as they could until they had
lost sight of the road altogether. Still, many of them had left what were
probably their only possessions behind. It would not be long before some of
them began to venture back.

“What about the bodies?” asked
Wirr. “We can’t just leave them.”

Taeris grimaced. “We have no
choice. Those who come back will see they get a proper burial, I’m sure.”

They began walking again, carefully
navigating around the blood-soaked section of road where the corpses lay. After
a few minutes, Taeris matched his stride to Caeden’s.

“So. It seems you’re an Augur,
too,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Wirr was right. That wasn’t Essence you
used to save us.”

Caeden didn’t respond for a few
seconds. He’d guessed as much, but at the moment it seemed like just one more
thing to worry about. “It was instinct,” he eventually reiterated, not taking
his eyes from the road ahead. “I don’t know how I did it.”

Taeris grunted, looking
dissatisfied but seeing he was not going to get any further comment on the
matter. “What did the sha’teth say to you, just before the end?”

Caeden shrugged. “It was spouting
nonsense. Nothing that made sense.”

Taeris raised an eyebrow. “Such
as?” He scratched his beard. “It might be important.”

Caeden hesitated. He had no
intention of telling Taeris what the sha’teth was going to reveal. “It said it
had killed him. When I asked who it meant, it just acted disappointed that I didn’t
know.” It was at least some of the truth, hopefully enough to satisfy Taeris'
curiosity.

Taeris thought for a moment.
“Another mystery,” he sighed eventually. He gave Caeden a mock stern look. “You
really need to get your memories back, lad.”

“No argument here,” Caeden
replied, doing his best to sound cheerful.

They kept walking. In the
distance, Fedris Idri was now clearly visible, and further along the road he
could see more people heading towards them. A steady stream, in fact.

They were almost to Ilin Illan.

Asha watched as Erran shifted
uncomfortably in front of her, clearly hesitant to proceed.

The young man took a deep breath,
exchanging worried glances with Elocien, Kol and Fessi, who had gathered for
the occasion and were looking on from the corner of the room. Then he turned
back to Asha.

"Are you sure you want to do
this?"

“I’m sure,” Asha affirmed, though
her stomach twisted as she said the words. In truth, the certainty she'd felt
the previous day had faded.

"Ashalia," interjected
the duke, his tone gentle. "Do you really think Elder Tenvar lied to
you?" He hesitated. "It's not that I don't believe you, but I
wouldn't want to see you go through this for no reason."

Asha turned to him. "I need
to know," she said simply.

Elocien inclined his head, and
Kol and Fessi both gave her encouraging smiles, though the concern in their
eyes was obvious. Erran hadn't minced words when he'd explained the dangers of
trying to restore her memory.

In front of her, Erran sighed.
"Okay." He paced back and forth for a couple of seconds, rubbing his
hands together in a nervous motion. “Okay. Ready?”

Asha nodded.

Erran stopped in front of her,
leaned forward, and pressed his fingertips against her temple. There was
nothing for a few moments and then the slightest pressure at the back of her
skull, like the beginnings of a headache.

The feeling began to build,
gradually at first, but soon enough Asha’s head was throbbing with it.

“Erran,” she said uncertainly.
“I’m not sure if - ”

The pressure burst.

A gentle warmth flooded through
her head. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation, but it made her gasp nonetheless.
Her thoughts were suddenly scattered, jumbled.

Erran stepped back, lowering his
hand. His eyes were full of horror.

“Fates. I’m so sorry.”

And then the memory came crashing
back into her.

***

There was pain behind Asha's
eyes, but she forced them open anyway.

She stared around, trying to get
her bearings. What had happened? Jagged-edged images flashed through her mind
and she sat up sharply, heart pounding, panic threatening to take over.

Someone had attacked the school.
Everyone was dead.

"Ashalia."

She turned to see a blond-haired
Administrator watching her with a worried expression. He looked... familiar.
She stared at his face for a few seconds in confusion.

"Do you recognise me?"
asked the man, his tone gentle.

"Yes," said Asha
slowly. Her memories began to order themselves, and the fear subsided. Faded
into grief. "Duke Andras. Elocien."

"Good." Elocien looked
relieved. He leaned forward, taking her hand and squeezing it. "We were
worried."

"We?" Asha looked
around with some effort, but only she and the duke were in the room. It was her
sleeping quarters, she realised after a few seconds.

"All of us. It's almost
dawn; the others went to bed a few hours ago. You've been asleep for nearly a
day."

Asha struggled up into a sitting
position. "That long?"

Elocien nodded. Then his
expression sobered. "Erran told us what happened. What you saw, before
Tenvar made you a Shadow." He shook his head. "That note from
Torin... I never knew about it. I suspect the Council didn't, either."

Asha smiled as she remembered.
Davian
and I are leaving
. "He's alive," she murmured, still barely
daring to believe it. Then her smile faded, and a wave of fury washed through
her as her thoughts cleared and she was able to analyse the new memories, come
to grips with them. "What have you done about Elder Tenvar?"

Elocien grimaced. "We're
watching him."

"We need to lock him
up." She thought of everyone who had died at the school, of the bloodied
corpses of her friends, and her expression hardened. "At the least."

"I understand, but... it's
not that simple," Elocien cautioned her. "Tenvar is Gifted. There are
rules that prevent us from simply marching into the Tol and arresting him. Laws
that I cannot break without undeniable, air-tight proof." He gave Asha an
apologetic look. "As long as he is inside the Tol, he's under the
Council's jurisdiction, and the Gifted are the only ones who can bring him to
trial and punish him. It's part of the Treaty."

Asha stared at him in disbelief.
"But he made me a Shadow against my will. He lied about Davian. I
remember
.
And Erran saw too - "

"Which no-one can
know," Elocien pointed out gently. "As for you remembering - how are
you going to explain that to the Council? You can point the finger all you
like, but unless they really believe you've got your memory back, all it will
do is warn Tenvar that we know what he did." He sighed. "Watching
him... it's the best we can do, for now. I promise you, as soon as we get the
opportunity to do more, we will."

Asha shook her head, still trying
to clear it. She should have realised that. "You seem very calm about all
of this."

"I've had the entire day to
be angry," said Elocien. "And believe me, I was." He stood,
putting his hand on her shoulder in a reassuring gesture. "If you're
feeling okay, I should get the others. They will want to know you're
awake."

Asha nodded, lying back down and
staring at the roof as Elocien left, trying to sort through her churning
emotions. Grief and horror at what had happened. Fury at Tenvar. Fear, knowing
what he was capable of.

She took a few deep, steadying
breaths as she mulled over what Elocien had said about the Gifted, about
Tenvar's immunity so long as he was inside the Tol. A plan began to form, just
an idea at first, but fully fledged by the time Elocien returned with the
Augurs.

After receiving delighted hugs
from the others - particularly from Erran, whose relief was so evident it made
her laugh - she turned to Elocien.

"I think I have a way to
solve our problem with Tenvar. To have him locked up," she announced.

Elocien frowned. "We can't
risk an incident between the palace and Tol Athian, not at the moment. Tensions
are already high and rising as it is, with my brother's recent outbursts
against the Gifted," he warned her.

"It wouldn't involve you or
anyone else here," Asha quickly assured him. "If it fails, the worst
that happens is that Tenvar knows I've remembered." She outlined her idea,
her four companions listening in attentive silence. There was a pause once
she'd finished as everyone considered what she'd proposed.

"It's still a risk for you,
though," noted Erran eventually, his tone uneasy. "There's no telling
what Tenvar's reaction will be."

"I can handle it," Asha
told Erran, locking eyes with him. After a moment, Erran nodded his acceptance,
and the other Augurs soon followed suit. They were concerned for her, but none
of them was going to try and convince her out of it. For that, she was grateful.

Elocien hesitated for a second
longer, then inclined his head too.

"So you'll need a meeting
with Councillor Eilinar. And access to the storeroom in the Old Section,"
he observed.

"That should do it."

Elocien nodded, more to himself
than to Asha.

"I'll see what I can
do," he said quietly.

***

Asha threw open the door to
Ilseth’s study as hard as she could, the resultant crash echoing down the
hallway.

Ilseth jumped up, eyes wide for a
moment. Then, seeing who it was, he sank back into his chair again, trying his
best to look unconcerned.

“How can I help you, Ashalia?” he
asked with cool politeness. “You really should be more gentle with the door.”

Asha paused for a long moment.
Then she turned and closed the door carefully, taking a key from her pocket and
with a quick twist, locking it.

Ilseth frowned. “Where did you
get that?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Asha slipped
the key back into her pocket.

“I suppose it doesn’t,” said
Ilseth, looking more amused than concerned. “What would you like to say to me?”

Asha stared at him. “I want you
to know that I remember.”

“Remember what?”

“Everything.” Asha swallowed a
lump in her throat. “I know Davian was missing, not dead. I know you made me a
Shadow against my will. I know you had something to do with what happened in
Caladel.” She clenched her fists, trying to contain her anger. “And now you’re
going to tell me exactly what.”

Ilseth just smiled a pleasant,
nonchalant smile, though his eyes betrayed a sliver of shock. “I have no idea
what you’re talking about.” He sighed. “Perhaps you’re confused. I know Shadows
have very vivid dreams about their past, sometimes -”

“Don’t patronise me. I’m going to
get your confession.”

Ilseth smirked. “How? Force?” He
chuckled. “Ashalia, you may be safe from Essence thanks to the Tenets, but
don’t for a second think that you can overpower me.”

Asha reached into her pocket and
drew out a small black disc, holding it between her forefinger and thumb for
Ilseth to see. “Familiar?”

Ilseth’s smile slipped, though he
still didn’t look concerned. “You’re a Shadow, Ashalia, in case you’ve
forgotten,” he said, his tone verging on mocking. “You can’t use that.”

“But I don’t need to use it.”
Ilseth was wrong about her ability to activate the Vessel, but she didn’t need
him to know that right now. “I just need it to make contact with your neck. Or
have you forgotten how it paralyses? I certainly haven’t.” She stared
confidently at him. “One touch, and you won’t be able to move. And I’ll be able
to do whatever I like to you. You can feel everything, you know. See
everything, hear everything. But you can’t make a sound.” She gave him a cold
smile. “We could be here for hours, and no-one would know.”

There was a long silence. “You
don’t have it in you,” said Ilseth eventually.

“There was a time I didn’t,”
admitted Asha. She gestured to her face. “Before you did this to me.”

She took a step forward.

Ilseth scrambled up from his
desk, scowling at her. “Why even bother? This section of the Tol has no
Remembering, child. Even if I said what you wanted to hear, no-one else would
believe you. You’ll be thrown in prison. If you leave now, though… I won’t
chase you. I swear it.”

Asha laughed in his face. “You
swear it? That's reassuring.” She took another step forward. Ilseth took a
corresponding step back, looking concerned now, even though the desk was still
between them.

For a few seconds Ilseth
contemplated the locked door; realising that there was no way to safely slip
past Asha and the black disc, he dropped all pretence of calm. “You’re a stupid
little girl,” he spat furiously. “You were supposed to die with all the others.
And you
will
die now, I promise you. But it won’t be quick like them.
I’m going to give you over to the Venerate. Do you know what they will do to
you? You’ll
beg
for death.”

Asha took another step forward,
reaching the desk. “Where are Davian and Wirr?” she asked, steel in her voice.

“I wouldn’t tell you even if I
knew,” snarled Ilseth, tensing himself to spring at her.

Then suddenly he was flying
backwards, as if an unseen hand had gripped him and slammed him against the
wall. He shouted in alarm, struggling against invisible restraints and staring
at Asha in wild-eyed disbelief.

"It's not possible," he
gasped. "You can't be -"

“Enough.”

Ilseth’s head snapped around at
the voice from the other side of the room, though Asha didn’t take her eyes
from his panicked features. From the corner of her vision, she could see Elder
Eilinar appear as he removed the Veil.

“He knows more than he's saying,”
said Asha, tone cold, still not looking around.

“No doubt,” said Nashrel wearily,
“ but he’s said enough to damn himself, and this need not get dangerous. We’ll
get the rest from him, don’t worry about that.” He stared at Ilseth with a
mixture of sadness and disgust. “I defended you when Ashalia made her
accusations.”

Ilseth looked as though he were
about to protest his innocence, then, seeing the expression on Nashrel’s face,
spat in his direction instead. “You are a fool, Nashrel,” he said, making
another furious attempt to free his hands. “And you have no chance of getting
information from me. You should have let the girl torture me.” He gave Asha a
leering smile.

Asha stepped forward and pressed
the black disc against Ilseth’s neck.

The Elder’s face and body
immediately went still.

“What are you doing, Ashalia?”
Nashrel asked. His tone was curious rather than worried.