The Shadow Of What Was Lost

Chapter 15

They had only travelled for a few minutes before Taeris stopped, signalling the others should do the same.

“Now. Tell me which one of you has given Tol Athian a Trace,” he said, expression grim as he stared at the three boys. “And then, you might like to tell me why they have decided to use it, too.”

Davian frowned. What was a Trace? He glanced across at Wirr, but his friend was just glaring back at Taeris.

“If it was me, I don’t remember,” pointed out Caeden. “I don’t even know what a ‘Trace’ is.”

Taeris examined their faces for a moment, then nodded in Wirr’s direction. “He can explain it to you.”

Wirr grimaced, eyes still locked with Taeris’. “A Trace is a small sample of your Essence, sealed in a container that keeps it… fresh. Pure. Everyone’s Essence is unique, so if Tol Athian needs to find someone, they can use their Trace to help locate them.”

Taeris nodded. “It’s like a person’s scent,” he elaborated to Caeden and Davian. “And the sha’teth are the hounds. Except that the Trace can only guide them if the person they are tracking uses the Gift.” He rubbed his forehead tiredly. “Which young Wirr here did in the process of rescuing Caeden, I assume.”

“But not at the inn,” protested Wirr.

“They can use it to track you for up to a day after. Longer, if you’ve got a deep Reserve.” Taeris frowned at Wirr. “When you expend that much power, you’re using your body as a focal point, drenching it with energy - and that takes time to fully dissipate. Finders can’t pick it up, but a sha’teth’s senses can.”

“I didn’t know that,” said Wirr softly.

“You should have asked,” growled Taeris. “The question is – why do Tol Athian want to kill you, Wirr? What crimes have you committed that they would go so far as to take a Trace?”

Davian and Caeden had both watched the exchange in open-mouthed silence. Davian stared at his friend in disbelief. Wirr had brought that creature down on them?

“It’s called a… sha’teth?” Davian had never heard the word before. “What is it?” He looked at Wirr in confusion. “What’s going on?”

Wirr frowned, looking almost as puzzled as Davian. “I’m not sure.” He turned to Taeris. “If Tol Athian sent the sha’teth after me, it was not to kill me, I promise you that. I don’t know why it attacked. They do have my Trace, but not because I’ve committed any crime.” He shook his head. “It’s complicated, but I cannot say more.”

Taeris' face darkened. “The sha’teth are assassins – that is their only purpose. You’ll tell me everything, boy, or that Shackle won’t be coming off your wrist anytime soon.”

“Then that’s the way it must be. I’m not lying, though.” Wirr met Taeris’ gaze flatly, without fear. He’d never been afraid of standing up to the Elders in Caladel when he felt he was in the right, and it seemed he was no more intimidated by Taeris.

"He’s not lying," agreed Davian.

Taeris turned to Davian. "And you’re not in the slightest bit curious as to why the sha’teth are hunting your friend?"

Davian studied Wirr for a long moment, then took a deep breath. "I am, but… I trust him. If we need to know what’s going on, he’ll tell us."

Taeris glowered as Wirr gave Davian a grateful nod. “We’ll talk more of this later, when we’re safely away,” the scarred man promised. “The immediate danger has passed, at least – you won’t be able to attract the rest of them while you’re wearing a Shackle. We should be safe.” He grimaced. “As far as these things go.”

Caeden shifted. “There are other sha’teth?” he asked, echoing Davian’s thoughts.

Taeris nodded. “Four of them - all Hunters though, so at least they can’t jump directly to our location like the Watcher did.” He glanced back in the direction of Anabir. “Still, regardless of whether Tol Athian still holds their leash, they won’t be pleased that their brother has been killed. We should keep moving.”

Wirr held up his hand. “Before we follow you blindly wherever you’re taking us, you need to answer a few of our questions.”

Taeris inclined his head wearily. “Of course.”

“The other sha’teth. Will they come after us?”

“Almost certainly.” Taeris sighed. “Once, perhaps not. But if what you say is true and they were not instructed to kill you… well, from what I just saw, they may be operating outside of Tol Athian’s purview. The one that attacked us certainly seemed to ignore my command easily enough, and that should not have been possible.”

“What did it say to you?” asked Davian.

Caeden spoke up. “It said, ‘The sha’teth no longer serve’.”

They turned as one to look at Caeden, who shrugged. “I didn’t understand it at the time, but just now, remembering… I knew what it meant.” He glanced at Taeris. “Am I right?”

“Yes,” said Taeris slowly, his expression curious as he stared at Caeden. Then he shrugged. “It could be that the commands have changed since my time, and that the creature was simply mocking me. Still….” He looked troubled.

Wirr gestured to the road ahead. “So along with avoiding the other sha’teth, you said we need to get back to Tol Athian to figure out what’s happening with the Boundary. Why are we heading north?”

Taeris sighed. “With Caeden’s escape, the Gil’shar will be focused on the borders; it will be all but impossible for us to get across unaided. And we don’t have the option of finding a smuggler, as you did to get here – even those types would be unwilling to cross the Gil’shar on this, no matter how much coin we offer.”

“True,” conceded Wirr, “ but heading towards Thrindar is hardly the solution.”

“The Song of Swords is being held in Thrindar,” corrected Taeris. “As of now, there is still a week of the festival remaining. The royal entourage from Andarra will be there, and Desriel allows visiting royalty to bring a small contingent of Gifted. If we can get into the city, I have contacts who can get us an audience. You may be able to slip over the border with them when they leave.”

There was silence for a couple of seconds. “It won’t work,” said Wirr.

“It’s our best chance,” countered Taeris. “The Gil’shar will assume Caeden is running straight for the border, and they don’t know for certain that anyone else is involved. They certainly won’t imagine he has any way of contacting the Andarran delegation.”

Wirr shook his head doggedly. “But they’ll never let us join them. If they did and we were discovered, it wouldn’t just be grounds for war - it would start it, then and there. The official Andarran delegation, smuggling Gifted out of Desriel? Including one accused of murder?” He shot an apologetic glance at Caeden. “I’m sorry, Taeris, but you must see how irresponsible that is. Our lives are not worth that sort of a risk.”

Davian looked at his friend in surprise. Wirr had not raised his voice, but something about his demeanour had changed. For just a moment, the easy-going boy he knew had vanished. There was heavy concern, genuine intensity behind his words.

Taeris considered Wirr for a second, then sighed. “You’re right, Wirr, but think for a moment about what I have told you today. Our lives are not my first concern. If there is some force at work trying to bring down the Boundary, do you imagine there’s no threat to Andarra?”

“If there is, we don’t know what it means,” said Wirr stubbornly. "Whereas war with Desriel is most certainly a threat."

Taeris bit his lip, then came to a decision. He reached into his satchel, drawing out a small metal box and opening it, shivering as he gingerly picked out the paper-thin object within. It was about the size of his palm and completely black; though it seemed polished to an almost mirror finish, it reflected none of the daylight as Taeris held it up. He leaned over, offering it to Wirr. “Be careful. The edges will slice through your fingers if you slip.”

Wirr took it cautiously, visibly shivering as his hand touched its surface. He slowed his stride as he examined the irregularly-shaped disc. “What is it?” he asked with a look of horrified fascination.

“A scale from a dar’gaithin,” replied Taeris.

Wirr dropped the disc as if burnt; it fell to the grass beside the road without a sound. He stopped and began rubbing his fingers together as if trying to remove any trace of the object from his skin, though Davian could not see any physical residue. “Of course it is,” he said with a shaky laugh, recovering himself somewhat. “Part of a mythical creature that you carry around in your pocket. Naturally.” Despite his words, he stared at the fallen black disc as if it might leap up and attack him.

Caeden frowned. “A dar’gaithin?”

“A mixture of snake and man. One of the five Abominations used against Andarra in the Eternity War,” explained Taeris.

"It’s part of the Talan Gol myth," continued Wirr to Caeden, sounding dubious. "When Aarkein Devaed invaded, he supposedly led warriors that were almost impossible to kill - mixtures of animals and men. The dar’gaithin were snakes.” He shook his head, turning back to Taeris. "I want to believe you, but… I took what Tenvar said about those creatures on faith, because we didn’t know he could lie to Davian at the time. To be honest, when we found out he could, it made sense to me. It’s hard to believe that they really exist."

Taeris grunted. “Well, the creature I found on the northern border a few months ago was certainly real enough,” he said quietly. “I removed that scale from its carcass myself.”

“You actually saw one?” asked Wirr, clearly caught somewhere between astonishment and scepticism.

Taeris nodded, choosing to ignore the doubt in Wirr’s tone. “Just this side of the Boundary. The effort of crossing must have killed it.” He sighed. “I took the scale and went to the garrison at Shandra, thinking to get help bringing the body back. By the time we returned, it had disappeared.”

“So, if the Boundary is still killing whatever tries to escape the North… that means someone from this side had hidden it?” asked Wirr, doubtful.

“It would appear so.”

Davian glanced at Wirr and Caeden, not knowing what to make of Taeris’ claim. Wirr still looked reluctant to believe the older man, but Caeden was staring at the scale on the ground in fascination. He walked over next to Wirr and squatted, looking at the thin black plate without touching it. Then he grabbed a stick and shifted the disc.

“I believe you,” he said.

Davian stared at the patch of grass where the scale had been lying. The blades, green only a few moments ago, had turned black and shrivelled. Lifeless.

Taeris turned his attention to Caeden. “You remember something?”

Caeden shrugged. “It’s difficult,” he said slowly. “I get these… flashes. It’s not memory, exactly, but it’s not like knowing how to talk, either. It’s… an instinct, I suppose. You told me what a dar’gaithin was, and suddenly I knew the grass underneath its scale would be dead. But I can’t even tell you why I thought that.” He rubbed his forehead in frustration. “Sometimes I feel like I’m so close to knowing something, to remembering. And then it just slips away again.”

Taeris gave him a sympathetic nod. “It will come.” He turned to Davian. “Try picking it up. Careful though. Avoid touching the edges.”

Davian reached down and cautiously plucked the scale from the ground. As he touched it, he shivered. A wave of nausea rolled through him – gone in an instant, but leaving him feeling drained, far more tired than a moment ago.

Aside from the sensation, the scale had a cool, metallic feel to it. He handed it back to Taeris, who promptly dropped it back in its metal container.

“What was that?” asked Davian, suddenly understanding Wirr’s reaction to touching the thing. He could still feel its cold surface against his skin.

“Dar’gaithin were supposed to be impervious to attack from the Gifted, and I think that’s the reason why,” Taeris said, gesturing to the dead patch of grass. “Their scales absorb Essence, draw it in. Maybe even feed off it.”

There was silence as everyone stared at the blackened grass. “For the sake of argument, let’s say we believe you,” said Wirr, looking shaken. “What are you trying to tell us, in truth? That Alchesh was right all along? That Devaed’s been sitting patiently in his prison for two thousand years, just waiting for his chance to wreak havoc upon the world again?”

Taeris stared at the boy for so long that Wirr actually reddened. “For a young man with such a healthy scepticism, you know a great deal about the Eternity War.”

Wirr scowled. “I read,” he said defensively. His scowl deepened as he saw Davian’s eyebrow raised in half-questioning amusement. “I do!”

Taeris smiled slightly. “In answer to your question – I don’t have proof of anything like that. I am trying to keep an open mind, though. I’ve seen some astounding things done with Essence; it’s unlikely, but if there is even the slightest chance Devaed could still be alive….” He sighed. “Put it this way – the dar’gaithin I saw, along with everything else going on with the Boundary, has certainly made me look at Alchesh a little more seriously.”

He turned to Davian and Caeden, seeing their blank expressions. “Alchesh was an Augur from the time of the Eternity War. The stories say he was so immensely powerful, he was driven mad by seeing too much of what was to come,” he explained. “After the Boundary was created, he foretold that it would one day fail, that Devaed and his armies would eventually be freed. People took it seriously for a long time. They manned forts, checked the Boundary regularly for any signs of attack.

"After a few centuries without so much as a sighting, though, a lot of people began to think that Alchesh’s foretelling must have been a result of his madness - that not even a powerful Gifted like Devaed could still be alive after so many years. The opinion became popular enough that the Old Religion eventually struck Alchesh’s visions from their canon and declared the Eternity War over. Soldiers were reassigned, and the Tols gradually stopped taking their readings. People forgot about the north as they focused on more immediate threats - the civil war in Narut, then the constant little skirmishes between Desriel and Andarra, Andarra and Nesk. After that, there was the Great War with the Eastern Empire.”

He shrugged, turning his attention back to Wirr. "And maybe Alchesh really was mad - but it doesn’t change the fact that the Boundary failing right now is a problem. I can’t say anything for certain about Devaed, but I saw that dar’gaithin corpse, and we can tell from the stories that those are fearsome, malevolent, intelligent creatures. Should they break through in numbers, they’re going to attack regardless of whether they have any guiding force behind them.”

Wirr thought for a moment, then gave a reluctant nod. “You’re right,” he admitted. “If those creatures really do exist, then it almost doesn’t matter whether Devaed is alive - even by themselves, they’re worse than anything the Gil’shar could hit us with. If the Tols aren’t prepared, we’ll be massacred.” His shoulders slumped. “There’s truly no better option?”

“If you think of one, we will take it,” said Taeris seriously.

“What about your Travel Stones?” Davian shrugged as everyone turned to look at him. “Couldn’t we just send one across the border, then use the other to create a portal?”

Taeris shook his head. “Even if we found someone trustworthy to take one into Andarra, it wouldn’t work. Creating a portal uses a vast amount of Essence, which needs to be stored up in the stones before they will work. I keep them on me so they constantly feed from my Reserve, but any more than a trickle and I’d be setting off Finders… it took me two months to charge them, last time. We won’t be able to hide here for that long.”

“Then it’s Thrindar,” concluded Wirr unhappily. He looked across at Davian. “I can’t say as I like it, but he’s right. If we don’t get back to Tol Athian, find out what’s going on with the Boundary, we could be risking far worse than Desriel’s army.”

They walked in silence for a while. After a few minutes, Taeris dropped back beside Davian, tugging on his sleeve to indicate that he should slow down. Wirr was talking cheerfully to Caeden – about what Davian wasn’t sure, but the two of them were laughing. He smiled. Caeden had looked dazed, lost, ever since he’d woken, but Wirr was always the right person to put someone at ease.

Taeris glanced at the two boys up ahead, frowning. “You and Wirr need to be careful,” he said, keeping his voice low.

Davian followed his gaze. “Of Caeden?” he asked. “You think he’s hiding something?”

“Oh, I believe him well enough,” replied Taeris. “But that doesn’t mean he didn’t murder those people, or that he isn’t complicit in what’s happened to you. For all you know, that box could have been meant to restore his memories, after which he may have been meant to kill you.” He sighed. “I’m not saying that’s what I think. But it is a possibility.”

Davian looked at Caeden again. Could this young man, laughing and joking with his friend, really be a killer?

“What do you think?” he asked.

Taeris didn’t reply for a few moments. “I think there are a handful of people in the world who could have translated what the sha’teth said to me last night,” he said quietly. “What that means… I don’t know. But if he turns out to be an enemy – well, you need to stay on your guard.”

Davian swallowed. “And if we discover he really is dangerous, when we restore his memories at the Tol?”

“Then at least we’ve chosen the battleground,” observed Taeris.

Without anything further he increased his pace again, quickly catching up to the other two. Davian soon joined them, but he kept mostly silent as they talked.

Taeris had given him much to think about.