The Light of Burning Shadows

THIRTEEN

V isyna batted away some flies and watched the crowd lining the street as the parade marched past. Some waved, and a few brave children ran out to beg for food and tobacco, but most of the citizens of Nazalla simply stood and stared. She tried to put a word to it. The crowd was…careful. The people lined the streets because they were expected to. Whatever resentment they harbored they kept in check, at least while the sun was in the sky. At night, Visyna could imagine the city becoming something very different, and very ugly.

It reminded her of Elfkyna. She remembered all too well the feelings of helplessness and rage at watching the soldiers of the Empire marching across her land. And she remembered with crystalline clarity how it felt to stand up to that force and fight, in her own way, to help her people. Elfkyna wasn’t free yet, but it had its guiding Star again, and the people saw that as a sign of good things to come. Visyna desperately hoped their faith would be rewarded.

Perhaps the return of a Star here would do the same for these people. They must want to be free just as all people do.

She shifted in her seat beside Rallie on the wagon and looked back to where the other regiments followed behind in the column.

“Not quite the same reaction, is it?” Rallie said, puffing on a cigar.

It wasn’t. Once the Iron Elves had passed it was as if a cloud lifted. The once-subdued crowd became more boisterous. The mood of the people lightened. It wasn’t outright joy, but the fear that they’d felt as the Iron Elves neared was reason enough to celebrate when the regiment had passed.

“The oath is a burden the soldiers should never have had to bear. The darkness of it permeates everything around them.” Flies buzzed around her face, landing in the corner of her eyes and even trying to crawl up her nose.

“It is most unfortunate, no doubt about it,” Rallie said. “Still, they are handling it well, for the most part.”

More people were coming out of doorways of the whitewashed buildings to line the street. Shuttered windows opened and roofs teemed with the curious. A few greetings rang out, and from a couple of roofs dates and olives rained down on the soldiers. Children, fascinated by the colorful and noisy procession, scampered among the soldiers with unrestrained glee. Those who came close to Rallie’s wagon, however, quickly retreated when they heard the noises coming from inside. Visyna wasn’t sure who was more agitated by the situation, the sreex or Jir. Dandy, the massive silver-beaked falcon, was currently perched on the crow’s nest of the Black Spike -until needed, as Rallie put it.

“How long will this last before they turn on them and a full-scale revolt breaks out?” Visyna asked. “I felt their fear as the Iron Elves marched by. That fear is going to turn to anger. I saw it happen in Elfkyna.”

“Possibly,” Rallie said, “although the Viceroy in Nazalla has a decidedly lighter hand than the last two Viceroys you knew in your homeland. In the end, it probably won’t matter. Between the pent-up resentment and the prospect of change, there would have been a new order here before much longer whether the Iron Elves had arrived or not. Their Star is returning,” she said, pointing at the crowd, “and soon. That is what will tip the balance.”

“And make for some very good reading in the Imperial Weekly Herald, ” Visyna said. She meant it as a joke, but it was hard not to notice that the more “interesting” things became, the more Rallie was interested in being there.

“I suppose I am quite like the vulture, when you put it that way,” Rallie said.

“I wasn’t trying to insult you,” Visyna said, hoping she hadn’t offended the older woman.

“You didn’t, dear,” Rallie said, reaching out a hand and patting her arm. “I myself have questioned the role I play on more than one occasion. I am cursed with an overpowering curiosity and thirst to know the truth of things, no matter how tawdry…or bloody.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of it?”

“Constantly, but then a new day dawns, a Star returns, and I find myself standing there in the middle of it all soaking up every morsel I can.”

Visyna chose her next words carefully. “You do more than simply observe.”

“I do what I can to help things along, no more. If my dispatches can aid them in any way, I would be pleased,” Rallie said, pointing toward the Iron Elves.

“I wasn’t referring to your writing,” Visyna said. “You wield power, Rallie.”

“I am not without…abilities,” Rallie said.

Visyna decided to push the issue. “Are they any you can teach me?”

Rallie turned her head slightly to look at Visyna. “You weave magic I couldn’t begin to understand. You pluck and stroke the very essence of the world around you. What I do is something very different, and not nearly as wholesome.”

“Her Emissary was afraid of you, at Luuguth Jor. It said this was not your time. What did it mean by that?”

Rallie turned back to look straight ahead. The wagon rolled along the cobbles, passing more people. An open square appeared off to their left, its center adorned with a cluster of thick-trunked palms. Visyna was about to try again when Rallie spoke.

“I’m not entirely sure what Her Emissary meant. I do have a theory, but it’s not one I can share with you yet,” Rallie said. “Tell me, my dear, how old do you think I am?”

Visyna recalled a similar question arising on board the Black Spike and decided to tread carefully. “Early…fifties,” she ventured, figuring Rallie was probably closer to seventy, possibly even eighty.

Rallie laughed and slapped a hand against a thigh. “Early fifties! Oh, you are a jar of honey, aren’t you? The thing of it is,” she said, lowering her voice again, “I have no idea. I can remember the last two hundred years quite clearly, but everything gets hazy after that.”

Visyna sat up straight. “Two hundred years? Do you have elf blood, or is this your magic?”

Rallie gave her a quizzical look. “That’s just it, I don’t know. There are pieces of memory in my head clear as a bell on a cold winter morning, yet I don’t recall ever being there, or doing the things I seem to remember doing. Quite fascinating, really.”

“Were you bespelled? How far back do these pieces of memory go?” Visyna asked. She knew Rallie had secrets, but this was amazing…and a little frightening. Who was this woman?

“There are memories that I have no right to remember,” Rallie said, brings a hand up to rub her nose. Visyna realized it also served to cover her mouth as she spoke. “Memories of when the Stars were first born.”

The questions piled up in Visyna’s mind until she almost couldn’t speak. “How is that possible? What does it mean?”

“That, my dear, is what I am working on. At the moment, I have no good answer, but like you, many good questions. I had hoped being at Luuguth Jor would unlock more of these memories, and it has, but they are giving up their secrets rather slowly. I need to find a way to speed things up, because I have come to believe that what I remember might be very useful.”

“At Luuguth Jor, you welcomed the Star back as if you knew it,” Visyna said, remembering the event clearly.

Rallie looked over at her again. “The thing of it is, I think I do, but for the life of me I cannot figure out how, or why. Too many pieces of the puzzle are missing. I hope being here will fill in a few more gaps,” she said, looking around at Nazalla as the wagon rolled on.

They sat in silence for some time after that. Visyna tried to imagine what it could mean. Was Rallie really over two hundred years old? And if two hundred, how much older? Could she really have been there when the Stars were born? But why would someone with such power have such a poor memory? A thought occurred to Visyna.

“Kaman Rhal’s Lost Library might have some-”

“-of the answers I seek,” Rallie said, finishing her sentence. “Yes, the thought did occur to me.”

Visyna marveled at the realization. “All this time I thought you were here because of Konowa and the Iron Elves. You’ve really been following the Prince, knowing he would eventually lead you to the library.”

“True, but I think I’d have followed these Iron Elves and the major at some point regardless. They are endlessly fascinating, especially Sergeant Arkhorn.”

Visyna decided to leave that subject alone. A few tossed dates landed on the canvas tarp stretched over the wagon. Rallie turned around to look over her shoulder. “Be a dear and grab the one that doesn’t look like the others.”

Visyna turned, half expecting a joke, but she immediately saw that one was indeed very different from the others. She reached out to take it and realized immediately by its feel that it was a chunk of polished wood carved and stained to look like a date.

She leaned over to give it to Rallie, but she shook her head and kept her eyes on the street ahead.

“Open it, but in your lap so that no can see.”

Visyna pulled the fake date apart. Inside was a tiny piece of rolled-up parchment. She carefully unrolled it. The script was foreign to her. She held it in the palm of her hand and tilted it so Rallie could read it.

“What does it say?” Visyna asked.

Rallie reached out a hand and gently touched the paper, which immediately turned to ash. “It says three things. The first is that we are not the only ones searching for the original elves.”

Visyna batted at more flies, finally giving in and artfully weaving a touch of magic to ward them away. “We already know the Shadow Monarch is seeking them out.”

Rallie continued. “It also says something other than the Shadow Monarch looks for them, but what it is and what its designs are remain unknown.”

“Something else? Could it have something to do with what happened on the last island?”

Rallie passed the reins into her right hand as she rubbed her chin in thought. “As I told the major last night, I don’t know, but it seems as good a guess as any at the moment.”

“What is the third thing?” Visyna asked.

“The third thing it says,” Rallie said, her gravelly voice growing quiet so that Visyna had to lean in to hear it, “is beware the one bearing many shadows.”

Visyna sat back up and looked again at the people lining the street. “The one with many shadows? I’ve never heard of such a thing. Is it a riddle?” She looked at the column of marching soldiers. “The Iron Elves have many shadows.”

Rallie flicked the reins and stared straight ahead. “An interesting thought. That could be it, though as we’re smack in the middle of them, I suspect my informant is talking about something else.”

“Why wouldn’t he know?”

“She,” Rallie said, “is in a unique position to know more than most, but not perhaps to piece it all together. Whatever this thing of many shadows is, at the moment I have no good answer.”

They rode on in silence, the crowds watching with guarded expressions as the troops marched past. There were many things in this world that disturbed Visyna, but hearing Rallie say there was something she hadn’t heard of suddenly shot to the top of the list. Visyna was certain that couldn’t be good.