James Islington - The Shadow Of What Was Lost

"Still." Kol clenched his fists. "What I’ve Seen… that’s not your fault. It doesn’t justify the way I’ve been treating you." He took another deep breath, finally looking her in the eye. "I’m just… I’m scared, Ashalia. I’m scared that it’s going to happen soon, and there isn’t anybody I can talk to about it. I find it hard enough to deal with the everyday things I See, but knowing that is coming…." He sighed. "I’ve wanted so many times to tell Fessi and Erran, but even if I could, it would just be a burden on them as well."

Asha nodded slowly; Fessi had said much the same thing last week. "I may not be your first choice, but if you need someone to talk to…."

Kol gave her a small smile. "Thank-you." He rubbed his face, looking relieved. "That’s not the only reason I’m here though. I’ve come to collect you, on Elocien’s instructions. Apparently there’s something you need to see."

Asha hesitated. "We may as well go now, then," she said reluctantly, forcing down a sudden pang of nervousness. She hadn’t been outside of her rooms since the night she got back.

They left, and Asha’s churning stomach eased a little as they made their way along the palace hallways. She still tensed up whenever she saw another Shadow, but she knew that might be her reaction for a while to come, now. Even so, it became easier the longer they walked, and Kol’s hulking presence alongside her lent a certain physical reassurance, too.

Soon they were at the duke’s office, and Kol bade her farewell. Once she was inside and the door was shut, Elocien gestured to a closed wooden box that sat on the floor in the middle of the room.

"This arrived about an hour ago. The guards at the gate were asked to deliver it to me, but I have no doubt that it was meant for you as well." He walked over to the box, then hesitated. "You should probably sit."

Frowning, Asha took Elocien’s advice.

Elocien carefully levered up the lid, and Asha shuddered as she realised what was inside.

Teran and Pyl’s severed heads stared up at her, their bloodied expressions taut with fear. Sitting atop the heads, flecked with dark red, was a note. Asha stared in horror for a moment, then leaned forward, a chill running through her as she read it. It was inked in the same neat, precise handwriting she’d seen in Elocien’s memory, from the night Administration had been attacked.

There were only two words on the slip of paper.

I apologise.

"It seems you were right about the Shadraehin not ordering the kidnapping," Elocien observed softly. "He’s making sure I know, so that Administration doesn’t retaliate - and making sure you know he didn’t betray you at the same time."

Asha shuddered. She’d despised these men for what they’d done, had even taken satisfaction in watching Kol’s treatment of them. But this… she hadn’t wanted this. She turned away, feeling sick.

"At least he doesn’t think I’m holding out on him, then," was all she said.

She spoke with Elocien a little longer, but soon enough she headed back to her rooms, suddenly too tired to be afraid. She’d seen so much violence over the past few months, more than she’d thought was possible. What had happened to Teran and Pyl… it almost didn’t surprise her, now.

Even so, as she lay back on her bed and closed her eyes, she knew she wouldn’t be able to get their final expressions from her mind for a long, long time.

Davian glanced up from his reading at the sound of footsteps echoing around the stone corridors.

His muscles tensed as he stood, facing the doorway into the library. Despite Malshash’s assurances, he remained cautious at all times in Deilannis. There was something too… wrong about the city to be able to relax.

It had been four days since the shapeshifter’s abrupt departure. Davian had broken from reading during that time to eat and sleep, but nothing else. Partly it was due to the enormity of the task; every time he thought he’d exhausted a topic, the Adviser directed him to books with fresh information on the same subject. Partly it was an escape.

Mostly, though, he’d discovered a fierce determination within himself, a hunger to be able to do what these books described. He’d never realised it before, but he’d watched his peers use Essence for so long – effortlessly, it had seemed – and been deeply envious.

Now, perhaps, it was finally his turn.

A man not much older than himself entered the room, smiling boyishly when his eyes alighted on Davian. He had bright red hair, a strong jaw line and a crooked nose. He waved in a familiar fashion.

“Malshash?” Davian asked, his tone hesitant.

The man gave a cheerful nod. “In the flesh.” He seemed in a particularly good mood; he sauntered up to Davian, glancing at the array of tomes spread out across the table. “How have you progressed?”

Davian shrugged. “I’ve done plenty of reading. Kan doesn’t strike me as the sort of power to rush into, though, so I’ve been waiting for you to return before going further.” Though he tried to sound casual about the last, in truth he was itching to see whether the theory he’d been devouring would actually work.

“Good lad.” Malshash gave him an approving nod. “You think you’ve grasped the basic concepts?”

Davian nodded. “The mental techniques sound simple enough. I’ve actually come across a few of them before, when I was trying to use Essence. They shouldn’t be too much trouble.” He was being modest. Every mental technique he’d ever tried – quite a few, in his years at the school – he had perfected. They had just never resulted in him being able to use Essence.

Malshash smiled. “But you understand that the two – Essence and kan – are very different?” He watched Davian closely, and Davian’s breath shortened a little. He got the distinct feeling he was being tested.

“Kan is an external force,” he said. “Whereas Essence is usually drawn from within the body, kan is drawn from a single source – one that seems to have its physical location here, somewhere in Deilannis. Although kan can be used from anywhere in the world, it is easiest to access and control here in the city.”

Malshash nodded encouragingly. “That’s accurate. What else?”

“Essence is energy. In the case of the Gifted it’s a piece of our own life force, extracted and converted into something that can physically affect things.” He bit his lip, straining to explain what he’d understood from the books. “Kan is not energy. You couldn’t make a fireball with kan, or lift a feather. You can’t heal with it. But it can affect energy. It seems to… sit above Essence, somehow. As we manipulate the world with Essence, so we manipulate Essence with kan.”

Malshash gave him an approving look. “You’ve been reading Delatroen, I see. Very good.” He smiled. “And what does he have to say about the consequences of this hierarchy?”

Davian stared at the ground for a long moment, trying to remember. “Two things. Firstly, that kan allows us to access things that Essence alone cannot touch – things that are not physical – specifically, he mentions thoughts and time as instances of that. And secondly, kan allows us to use Essence with a level of finesse and efficiency that is not possible otherwise. He gives the example of drinking from a pool. Manipulating Essence by itself is like scooping the water with your hands, whereas using kan to do it is more like using a cup.”

Malshash smiled. “I always liked that analogy.” He paused. “There’s more to it though. He was only talking about one aspect of their interaction.”

Davian nodded, feeling his brow furrow. “Kan can also be used in other states to siphon, absorb, or store Essence. I read a little about Imbuing – making Vessels. The kan stores Essence in the Vessel indefinitely, preventing decay, until its function is triggered. In some cases it can draw Essence from whomever is using it, too.” He thought of the Vessel that had brought he and Wirr to Desriel. “It seemed quite advanced.”