Shades of Gray (113 page)

He bowed, and slowly backed away from the table, leaving Shaidan not quite sure whether to believe him or not.

“Now you know,” said Kitra, picking up her spoon and taking a taste. “Oh, Dzaka, Shaidan, this is amazing! I have never tasted anything as good as this!”

It was good. The cold of the ice dissolved on his tongue, leaving behind the sharp, yet sweet taste of the fruit to cool his mouth after the spicy heat of the main meal.

After they’d eaten, they took a slow stroll back through the market, stopping at several of the stalls. They spent some time at one with a wide selection of swords and daggers of all shapes and sizes.

“Shaidan,” said Dzaka, gesturing him over to join him. “It’s about time you had a knife of your own. Your pappa will get you a proper one when he gets back, but until then, how would you like this one?”

It was a real knife not a toy one, he saw that instantly. The eight-inch curved metal scabbard was embossed with the shapes of all manner of beasts leaping along its length. The pattern was echoed on the hilt, which ended in a plain round boss. Slowly, he drew the blade out. It was like a claw, both the curved edges honed to the point he knew it could cut a hair.

“I know you’ll be careful with it,” said Kitra. “Back on Shola, you would have your first knife by now, so Dzaka and I thought it only right to get you one.”

“It’s beautiful,” he breathed, handing her the scabbard so he could run a claw tip along the blade and feel the heart of the steel.

“Don’t draw it unless you need to use it,” said Dzaka. “And if you do, be prepared to use it as I’ve trained you.”

“I will, Uncle Dzaka,” he said, automatically reaching out with his mind to check for danger even as he looked around them alertly.

There’s no present danger, Shaidan,
sent his uncle.
But now you can defend yourself if need be.

Understood, Uncle Dzaka,
he replied, taking the scabbard back from his aunt and sheathing his knife.

“Here, let me fix it to your belt,” said Kitra, leaning forward.

 

Lying in bed that night in his own room in the Palace, freshly showered and his hair braided, he reached his hand under his pillow to touch the knife. He couldn’t quite believe it was his, it was so beautiful and unexpected a gift. It made him feel more grown up, less helpless, as he’d been when they’d been prisoners of the Directorate. Now he could defend them all if danger threatened them.

He could sense his aunt and uncle in the main room—they’d taken over his parents’ suite while they were away. They were settling down for the evening with some friends to play a board game. Faint thoughts came from his brothers and sisters as they all wished each other good night. He joined in, sending his special one to Gaylla, who was cuddled up with her favorite doll.

As he began to drift off to sleep, he sensed that he wasn’t alone and turned around to look off into the shadows by the window.

“Vartra,” he said sleepily.

“Yes, youngling,” the Sholan replied, stepping out of the shadows and over to his bed. “Are you too tired to take a trip with me tonight?”

Shaidan sat up, suddenly wide awake. “A trip? To see Pappa? We won’t be long, will we? ’Cos I don’t want to worry Aunt Kitra and Uncle Dzaka.”

Vartra smiled. “Yes, to see your pappa, and your aunt and uncle won’t even know you’re gone.” He held out his hand and stood up. “Come with me.”

Shaidan threw back the covers and got out of bed. Just before his hand touched Vartra’s, he exclaimed and darted back to the bed, reaching under his pillow for his knife. Clutching it tightly, he turned back to Vartra.

“I’m ready,” he said, holding out his hand.

As their hands met, Shaidan turned around to look at the bed. With a shock, he saw himself still lying there.

Vartra’s hand tightened on his reassuringly. “It’s all right, little one. We’re pathwalking to meet your father. Your body will remain here, but we’ll be elsewhere.”

“But . . .” he began, but anything else he intended to say was lost as they plunged into a darkness more absolute than any he’d ever known. He gasped for air, biting down on the terror that surged through him.

We’re safe,
Vartra sent to him.
A moment only and we’ll be there.

Suddenly he was blinking in the sunlight, standing in a neat garden edged with a wild array of flowers of all colors and sizes. Insects buzzed among them, and he was sure he could hear birds singing, though he’d never yet seen one.

“Shaidan!”

It was his pappa’s voice! Turning around, he saw him standing there, arms held open for him.

“Pappa!” He ran to him, wrapping his legs around him as he was lifted up into his arms. “Pappa,” he said again, burying his face against his father’s neck, smelling his scent, and feeling his warmth. “It really is you! I have missed you so much!”

“So have I, korrai,” said his father, hugging him tightly before setting him down. “What’s that you’re holding?” he asked.

“Uncle Dzaka and Aunt Kitra got me a knife today. One to last me till you give me one, they said.” He held it out to show Kusac.

“That’s beautiful,” he said, pulling it out of the scabbard to look at it. “I know you’ll look after it well and use it only if you need to.”

“Yes, Pappa,” Shaidan said.

“I can only stay for a short while, I’m afraid, Shaidan,” his father said, handing back the knife and resting his hands on his son’s shoulders and looking deep into his eyes. “Vartra says he can bring us together now and then, when we need to see each other. Can you keep being brave for your mother and me?”

Shaidan straightened up, standing as tall as he could. “I can do that,” he said, his bottom lip only quivering a little.

His father smiled, reaching out to press his fingers against his lips. “That’s my son,” he said softly. Kneeling down, he pulled him into an embrace again, resting his cheek against Shaidan’s. “We’ll be back as soon as we can, never doubt that, Shaidan.”

“I know, Pappa,” he said, feeling his father’s tongue rasp gently against his cheek.

“I love you.” The words sounded faint, and as he looked up, he felt his father’s arms around him begin to loosen.

“No! Don’t go!” he cried out.

Remember, I’m only a thought away, korrai,
sent his father as darkness gently surrounded him.