The Shadow Of What Was Lost (5 page)

Davian burned with other
questions – the Elders he’d met were never this open about the Unseen War, and
certainly not about the Augurs – but he bit his tongue. He’d learned more in
the last few minutes than he had in a year of quietly searching, and he was a
little concerned that Ilseth would become suspicious if continued to press
right now. Visiting Elders rarely stayed at the school for less than a week,
anyway. There would be time for some more carefully-worded questions later.

They walked on. Ilseth seemed
lost in thought, and the distraction of conversation had already done much to
calm Davian after what had happened in Caladel, so he remained quiet.

Eventually Ilseth stirred again.
“Speaking of changes,” he said with what seemed to be forced cheerfulness, “are
you prepared for tomorrow?”

Davian frowned. “Tomorrow?”

“The Trials,” said Ilseth,
raising an eyebrow.

Davian barked a nervous laugh.
“The Trials are not for three weeks – at the Festival of Ravens,” he assured
Ilseth.

Ilseth grimaced, saying nothing
for a few seconds. “Ah. They haven’t told you yet.” He laid a sympathetic hand
on Davian’s shoulder. “Sorry, lad. For various reasons, we had to move the
Trials up this year. That’s why I’m here - I’ve been sent by Tol Athian to
oversee them.” He bit his lip as he watched Davian’s reaction. “I’m truly
sorry, Davian. I thought you already knew.”

Davian felt the blood drain from
his face as he processed the information, and for a moment he thought his knees
might buckle. “Tomorrow?” he repeated dazedly.

Ilseth nodded. “At first light.”

Davian was too light-headed to
respond.

He
walked on towards the gates of the school in stunned, disbelieving silence.

Davian was numb as he tethered
Jeni.

Ilseth had already departed in
the direction of the Elders’ quarters, murmuring something about finding his
travelling companions. Davian finished his task and trudged towards Talean’s
office, still light-headed, scar throbbing as it always did when stress got the
better of him. The tiny hope he’d been clinging to for the last few months had
finally faded. Disappeared.

The Administrator stood as Davian
entered, grimacing as he saw the expression on the boy’s face. “You’ve heard.”

Davian nodded, his chest tight.
“I met one of the Elders in Caladel.” He recounted the incident in town.

Talean shook his head, looking
dismayed. “I am sorry, Davian.” He scowled to himself. “And embarrassed. I will
speak to Administration in Caladel first thing tomorrow, you have my word.”

Davian inclined his head. He knew
the Administrator who had ignored his plight would never be identified, but he
appreciated the gesture. “Thank-you.”

Talean was silent for a few
moments as he placed his hand on the Shackle around Davian’s arm. “I’ve been
thinking about your situation. I am happy to plead your case, if you wish me
to,” he said suddenly as the cold force that had been sitting beneath Davian’s
skin seemed to draw back into the torc. Talean removed the device and placed it
back in its cupboard, continuing, “For most people, the extra few weeks
wouldn’t matter. But for you, they may have made a difference. There is no
reason the Gifted cannot take you along to Tol Athian, put you through the
Trials at the proper time.”

Davian felt like a drowning man
clutching at a piece of driftwood. “Do you think they would agree to that?”

“I don’t know,” said Talean
honestly. "I don’t know what these Elders are like.” He hesitated. “I
cannot use the Fourth Tenet to make them do it, though. I hope you understand
that.”

Davian nodded; the thought had
occurred to him, but Talean was right. “You can't interfere with the affairs of
the school. I know,” he said. “If you would speak to them on my behalf, though,
I would be in your debt.” Talean wasn’t like the Administrators in Caladel – or
anywhere else, if the stories were true. He believed in the Treaty, in
protecting the Gifted just as much as protecting everyone else from them. He
would do his best to help.

Talean gave him a slight smile,
clapping him on the shoulder. “Just remember that we Administrators are not all
bad, and that will be payment enough.”

Davian nodded, unable to summon a
smile in return. “When can you talk to them?”

Talean glanced out the window.
Davian followed his gaze to see three red-cloaked figures – one of them Ilseth
– striding across the courtyard towards the Elders’ quarters.

“No time like the present,” noted
Talean, pulling his blue cloak across his shoulders. “I’ll find you as soon as
I have an answer.”

Davian swallowed, suddenly
nervous again as he watched Talean hurry after the newcomers.

He made his way back to his room,
avoiding eye contact with the other students he passed. Word had spread of
tomorrow’s Trials, and everyone knew what that meant for Davian; with less than
a hundred people living within the school walls, his inability to use the Gift
was far from a secret.

Some people still stopped him as
he passed and wished him luck for the morning, their expressions bidding him a
pitying farewell. Those conversations always died out, the well-wishers
trailing off awkwardly and eventually retreating. Others glanced away when they
saw him, as if they feared that by acknowledging him, they would somehow share
his fate.

He’d thought that reaching the
relative safety of his quarters would help matters, but he only had to glance
at the faces of Wirr and Asha – who were waiting for him – to know he was
wrong. The rims of Asha’s eyes were red, and Wirr was more subdued than he had
ever seen his friend. Davian opened the door to let them inside, then slumped
onto his bed, the last of his energy leaving him.

Asha and Wirr sat either side of
him, silent for a time. Asha eventually put her arm around his shoulders and
pressed him close to her. Her physical proximity would normally have made
Davian awkward, but today it made him feel like his heart was being wrenched
from his chest.

Just like everyone else, this was
her saying goodbye.

They sat there for what seemed
like minutes, Davian letting Asha’s soft blond hair press against his cheek.
Eventually he took a deep breath and straightened, forcing a smile.

“If you two could stand it one
last time,” he began in a light tone, careful not to choke on his emotions, “
perhaps you could keep me company this evening?”

They both nodded immediately. “Of
course,” said Wirr. He hesitated. “Do you want to practice at all?”

Davian shook his head. “I just
want to spend some time with my friends,” he said softly.

Wirr’s face twisted for a moment,
revealing the depth of his pain. It was gone in an instant. “Then so it shall
be,” he said with a smile.

After a while longer they
wandered back downstairs, taking their dinner and then finding their usual spot
atop the tall, west-facing wall of the school. The view over Caladel and the
ocean beyond was spectacular as always; the setting sun bathed everything in a
warm, almost otherworldly orange glow. A few of the returning fishing vessels
were silhouetted against the glittering water, making their way tranquilly into
harbour at the end of a long day. A great hawk circled above them; the three of
them just watched the majestic creature soar for a while, mesmerised, silent
but completely comfortable in each others’ company.

Davian closed his eyes for a
second, capturing the image: sitting with his friends high above everything,
his troubles for just a moment held at bay. It was perfect. A perfect farewell
to his friends, his life. He would remember this and always think of better
times.

They talked of small things.
Davian decided not to tell them about Talean’s efforts to help; as more time
passed, he became increasingly sure that a reprieve would not come. He would
face his Trials tomorrow, the same as everyone else of age. And he would face
the consequences of failure as stoically as he could.

Finally the sun dipped below the
horizon, and the gentle sea breeze soon became unbearably cold. When they
reached the bottom of the wall, Talean was waiting for them. One look at his
face told Davian all he needed to know.

“It seems I am saying this a lot
today, Davian,” said Talean, voice rough with emotion, “ but I am sorry. They
refused.”

Though Davian had been expecting
it, the news still felt like a punch to the stomach. “Thank-you for trying,” he
said, doing his best to sound calm.

Talean inclined his head. “El be
with you tomorrow,” he said, a hint of sadness in his tone. Davian blinked;
he’d never heard an Administrator invoke the Old Religion before.

Talean looked as though he was
going to say more, then spun on his heel and walked away.

Wirr and Asha both gave Davian a
questioning look, but he just shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now,” he said
heavily. His last sliver of hope gone, tiredness came crashing in. “I think
perhaps I should get some sleep." He forced a smile at the other two.
“It’s a big day tomorrow.”

His friends smiled back, though
he could see the pain in their eyes. Wirr nodded, and Asha gave him a lingering
hug. “We will see you in the morning, Dav,” she said, looking close to tears.

He gave them one last, tight
smile, and headed back up to the North Tower. As soon as his door was shut he
collapsed into bed, not even bothering to undress.

Oddly enough, now his fate was
sealed, he had no trouble sleeping.

***

The soft, insistent tapping at
the door pricked at Davian’s consciousness.

He lay there for a few seconds as
the events of the day came flooding back, settling like a physical weight on
his chest. He rolled onto his side, staring out the window into the darkness
beyond. It was still pitch-black night – he wasn’t sure how late, exactly, but
there was dead silence from the courtyard below, a sure indicator that it was
at least past midnight.

The gentle knocking at the door
came a second time, finally rousing him. He frowned as he sat up. It didn’t
sound like Wirr’s usual confident rap, but perhaps his friend was just
exercising some extra caution. Being caught out this late, the night before the
Trials, would undoubtedly bring down the wrath of the Elders.

He crossed the room and opened
the door, blinking in the sudden torchlight. Ilseth Tenvar stood in the
hallway, looking nervous.

“Elder Tenvar!” Davian said
bemusedly. There was an awkward pause. The Elders conducting the Trials
normally stayed overnight in Caladel, making Ilseth’s presence doubly
surprising. “How can I help you?”

Ilseth glanced around, clearly
uneasy. “May I come in?” He clutched something small in his left hand, but it
was covered in cloth, concealed from view.

Davian shrugged. “Very well,” he
said, trying not to sound too reluctant.

Ilseth entered, shutting the door
behind him. Noting the open window, he crossed the room and shut that, too.
Looking around and apparently satisfied, he took the chair at Davian’s desk;
Davian perched opposite him on the bed, still trying to deduce what was
happening.

Ilseth paused for a moment,
composing himself. Then he made a few gestures in the air; streams of energy
flowed from his fingertips, settling into the walls around them.

Davian frowned; he’d seen this
done before. Ilseth was Silencing the room.

Once he had finished, Ilseth
stared at the cloth-covered bundle in his hands. “Before we begin,” he said,
tone grave, “ you need to know that I am sorry to put this burden on you.” He
scratched his beard, then took a deep breath. “There is no easy way to say
this. I know you’re an Augur, Davian.” He paused for a moment to let that sink
in.

Davian felt the blood drain from
his face; he leaned back, as if physical distance from Ilseth would somehow
help. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Ilseth held out his hands in a
calming motion. “I am not going to turn you in,” he said quickly. “But I do
need you to be honest with me. It’s true?”

Davian stared at the floor for
several seconds, heart thudding as he struggled to sort through a wild tangle
of emotions. Finally he took a deep, steadying breath, squaring his shoulders.
There had been no black smoke from Ilseth's mouth. The Elder was telling the
truth - he wasn't going to turn him in.

“It… might be,” he admitted
reluctantly. “I’ve never had visions of the future, if that’s what you mean.
But I’ve always been able to tell when someone is lying to me… it
could
be a form of Reading, I suppose. I’ve never really been sure.” He frowned. “How
did you know?”

"We've been watching you.
Your inability to use Essence is an indicator, and..." Ilseth shook his
head. “The details are not important, Davian, and there isn’t enough time to
explain everything. What
is
important is that you trust me. I need you
to use your ability now. I need you to Read me, to believe what I’m about to
tell you.” He looked Davian in the eye. “Will you do that?”

Davian nodded. He was
concentrating on what Ilseth was saying; his ability would do the rest. “Go
ahead. I’ll know if you’re lying.”

Ilseth gave him a relieved smile,
then began unwrapping the package in his hands. The white cloth fell away to
reveal a small box made of bronze, with intricate details etched into each face
of the cube. Ilseth held the box carefully, almost gingerly.

“Our meeting in town today was no
accident. I came looking for you,” the Elder admitted. He hesitated. “What do
you know of the Boundary?”

Davian frowned. “The barrier of
Essence in the north? It's... old. Impassable.” He rubbed his forehead, trying
to remember. "It's from the time of the Eternity War, I think. From the
golden age of the Gifted. So it was created... a thousand years ago? Two?"

“Closer to two.” Ilseth didn’t
take his eyes from the box in his hands, its burnished surface seeming to glow
in the dim light. "And do you know why it was built? How it came into
being?"

"Only what the stories from
the Old Religion say." Davian scratched his head, trying to recall what
little he'd been taught of the Eternity War, drowsiness still slowing his
mental processes a little. "It was to seal off Aarkein Devaed and his
creatures... to trap him before he completed his invasion. Before he wiped out
everyone in Andarra, if you believe that sort of thing."

"That's right."
Ilseth's tone was serious. "It's not a myth, though. Devaed was very much
real - not the embodiment of evil the Old Religion would have you think, perhaps,
but he was certainly a very powerful, very dangerous man. And the creatures he
commanded were real, too. Truly terrible things that even the Darecians, at the
height of their powers, couldn't kill."