James Islington - The Shadow Of What Was Lost

He sighed, then walked inside to find Elocien flicking through some papers. The duke glanced up as Wirr entered.

"I’m glad you’re here, Torin. We need to go back to the feast," he said, pushing himself to his feet.

Wirr gave him a blank look. "The feast? Surely everyone will have gone."

"They won’t know what’s happening for another couple of hours." Elocien ushered him out the door. "Which means we have exactly that amount of time to convince anyone capable of fighting that there’s still a chance. That there’s no need to panic."

Wirr grimaced. "We need to lie, you mean."

Elocien sighed.

"Yes. We need to lie," he agreed.

Wirr just nodded, and they walked back towards the ballroom in heavy silence.

It was the very early hours of the morning, the moon still high, when Davian caught his first glimpse of the palace.

He exhaled as he took in the grand structure, the knot of worry that had been sitting at the base of his skull loosening a little. After all that had happened it was a relief, almost surreal to finally be here.

He rubbed his neck tiredly as he approached the gate, which was an ethereal silver in the moonlight. Aside from the guards there was no-one on the street; as with the rest of the city he’d seen, everything was impressive, and yet it felt… empty. Deserted. His footsteps crunched in the post-midnight hush, and all four men at the gate were watching him with narrowed eyes before he got within fifty feet.

"No entry to the palace," said one of them, stepping forward. His tone brooked no argument.

Davian held up his hands to show he meant no harm. "I need to see Aelric or Dezia Shainwiere," he said, his tone polite. "It’s urgent."

The guard shook his head. "Sorry, lad, but no visitors. And if the Shainwieres are even awake, they’ll be helping prepare the city defences - I can’t disturb them."

"I have information about the invasion."

The guard raised an eyebrow, looking skeptical. "Do you, now. That’s convenient. Perhaps you can tell me, and I’ll relay it to those who need to know."

"I need to give it to them directly." Davian rubbed his forehead. This was not going well. "Could you please just tell them that Davian is here to see them?"

The guard scowled. "Fates, lad, what part of no entry don’t you understand? Even if they knew you, I couldn’t let you through at this time of night."

Davian sighed. He hadn’t wanted to do this, but the man was clearly not going to be swayed.

He concentrated, reaching out with kan.

He almost lost his grip on the connection, so surprised was he by how easy it was to slip inside the guard’s mind. Once through, though, it wasn’t like Malshash’s thoughts - cold, ordered and distinct. Everything here was… a mess. Emotions tangled with sensations tangled with memories, each colouring the other until none were entirely recognisable.

Davian focused on the present, trying to block out everything else as Malshash had taught him. There was nervousness about what was coming, a sense of dread. And suspiciousness of Davian, certainly no inclination to let him through the gate.

He looked deeper, trying to find what would change the man’s mind. The guard knew who Aelric and Dezia were, though only from afar; they registered as two faces, little more.

He turned his thoughts to Wirr - to Prince Torin. That was a different story. A powerful figure, an intimidating one in this man’s life. One word from the prince and his life could be changed, for better or for worse.

Davian barely stopped himself from shaking his head in disbelief at the thought.

He withdrew the sliver of kan, sighing. "If you’re comfortable with the consequences once Torin discovers his friend has been turned away…." He trailed off, turning as if to leave.

"Wait. What?" The guard’s voice had taken on a nervous note. "The prince? You never mentioned -"

"I shouldn’t have had to." Davian shook his head, doing his best to look irritated. "I asked for the Shainwieres because I knew Tor would be busy. But I’m an old friend of his. From Calandra," he added, remembering where Wirr was supposed to have been for the past few years. He stepped forward, looking the man in the eye. "Davian. And it’s urgent."

The guard hesitated, and Davian pressed home his point. "Just tell him I’m here. If he doesn’t know who I am, or doesn’t want to let me in, you can lock me up." He gave his most confident smile. "But he’ll want to see me."

The man hesitated a moment longer, then nodded briefly and disappeared through the gate.

A few minutes later someone else appeared from within the grounds, a harried look on his face. He was older, finely dressed.

"Davian?"

Davian nodded.

"My name is Laiman Kardai. Come with me. Quickly, please." He turned to one of the guards. "Trevin. You trust me?"

"Of course, Master Kardai," said the man.

"Tell anyone who asks that he left," Laiman said, jerking his head towards Davian. "Walked off, didn’t say where he was going."

Trevin bit his lip, then nodded. "We can do that." The other two men with him nodded their silent agreement.

Davian frowned but hurried after the older man, through the gates and magnificent grounds and into the main building. Once inside, Laiman took a couple of sharp turns, then ushered Davian into an unoccupied room.

He shut the door and leaned against it, exhaling in what appeared to be relief.

"What’s going on?" asked Davian in confusion.

"You’ve… caused a bit of a commotion, I’m afraid," said Laiman, gesturing for Davian to have a seat. "Not through any fault of your own. Prince Torin will be along to see you shortly, I’m sure."

"What happened?"

Laiman sighed. "There was feast earlier tonight, and several lords stayed around afterward to discuss the defence of the city. The prince was part of that meeting, along with his father, uncle, and a couple of Administrators. We were just finishing up when word came that one of Torin’s friends from Calandra was at the gate." He shook his head, a weary motion. "We both know where Torin’s actually been these last few years, but until now, few others did."

Davian hesitated, for a moment unsure how much he could admit to this stranger. Then he frowned, picking up on the last part of Laiman’s statement. "Until now?"

"King Andras… lost control when he heard." Laiman looked dazed at the memory. "I don’t know how else to describe it. He stood up and in front of everybody, revealed where Torin has been. The fact he’s Gifted. Claimed that this was Torin’s way of letting his Bleeder friends into the palace so that they could kill him, overthrow him." He shrugged. "The duke did his best to calm him, while I slipped away. I don’t think anyone else saw us coming inside, so if Trevin keeps his word - which he will - you should be safe in here for a while."

Davian gave him a stunned nod. "Thank-you."

"Don’t mention it. I’ve heard Torin’s entire story, and I know who you are. What you are. We can use all the help we can get against what’s coming." Laiman looked grim. "I should get back before I’m missed though… or shut out altogether," he added, sounding bitter. "Stay here. I’ll make sure Torin knows where you are."

He slipped outside and shut the door behind him, leaving Davian alone and shaken.

Perhaps thirty minutes passed before the door opened again. Davian rose in anticipation, his smile broad as he took in the first of the two figures in the doorway. Wirr was almost unrecognisable with his fine clothing and neatly trimmed hair.

Davian’s attention shifted to the girl next to him; they locked eyes, and for several moments neither of them moved. She was a Shadow, but Davian recognised her immediately… and yet it couldn’t be.