The Shadow Of What Was Lost (39 page)

“So they failed?"

“Not exactly,” said Malshash.
“The Jha’vett works, as you can tell. But if any of the Darecians went back,
they weren’t able to change anything.” He jumped up, grabbed a handful of flour
from a bag on the shelf, then came back and dumped it on the table. He drew a
line through it. “Imagine this is time. The Darecians believed that going back
to a point in time will create
this
.” He drew a branching line from the
original. “An alternate timeline, where things are different depending on what
has been changed. Where you could go back in time, kill your parents before
they ever meet, and still live out the rest of your days in a reality where you
are never born.” He drew more lines. “They believed that there are infinite
realities, where each choice of each person creates a new world. So possibly,
they went back in time, succeeded, and are now living out a different reality
to this one.”

He erased the extra lines. “
However
,
there may be only one timeline. One set of possible events. The Augurs have
been reinforcing that theory for years, but it’s not something anyone wants to
believe. We like the idea of infinite possibility. That nothing is inevitable.”
He sounded frustrated. “Yet the more I see, the more inevitability seems to be
the way of it. One timeline. No second chances.”

Davian frowned. “I was nowhere
near the Jha’vett when all this happened. So how did I get here?”

Malshash shifted, looking
uncomfortable. “There was a man. Aarkein Devaed. He was amongst those
responsible for the destruction of the Shining Lands; when he invaded Andarra,
he went ahead of his army and tried to use the Jha’vett for himself.” He
paused. “Instead of getting it to work, though, he just… damaged it. Now,
sometimes the energies in the city become misdirected. Escape, flow outward.
Ripples like that are rare, but if you weren't at the Jha’vett, it’s the only
explanation.”

“There were apparitions, just
before the Orkoth attacked,” said Davian, remembering. “People appearing and
disappearing right in front of us. Would that have been caused by one of
these... ripples?”

Malshash gave a thoughtful nod.
“I would think so. Different times bleeding into each other, most likely. I’ve
seen it happen once before.” He hesitated as if reminded of something, then
fished around in his pocket, producing a ring with a slightly guilty
expression. It was silver, and had three plain bands that twisted together to
form a distinctive pattern, irregular but flowing.

Malshash held it up. “Before we
go any further, you should know: I used the Jha’vett to draw you here with
this,” he admitted awkwardly. “I needed something of yours, something personal.
Something that meant a great deal to you.”

Davian looked at him in
puzzlement. “What is it?”

Malshash raised an eyebrow. “It’s
your ring.”

Davian shook his head. “I've
never seen it before. It’s not mine.” The ring was distinctive; he’d certainly
know if he’d ever owned something so fine.

“Ah. Then it will be,” said
Malshash with a slight shrug.

Davian scowled. “How is that
possible? How can something be important to me if I’ve never even seen it
before?”

Malshash shrugged again.
“Remember, you were outside of time when it drew you. There was no future, no
past.
When
it is important to you is not relevant. At some point, it
will be.”

Davian stared at him for a few
seconds. “I think I'm going to have to take your word on that.”

Malshash gave him an amused
half-smile in response and then tossed the ring to Davian, who caught it,
examining it closely. It was unadorned with jewels, but the pattern created by
the bands melding together was intricately done.

“What am I to do with this?”
asked Davian.

“Keep it on you,” said Malshash.
“Wear it. Don’t stray too far from it, ever. It’s the anchor that is holding
you here in this time. If you get too far away, the pull of your own time may
become too strong, draw you back into the rift.”

Davian stared at the ring.
“Surely that would be what I want? I could go back?”

“No." Malshash shook his
head, expression serious. "It’s remarkable you survived the journey here,
Davian. A miracle. Most people caught in a rift are ripped apart by the sheer
force of the transition; if they aren’t, they go mad, their minds unable to
process the absence of time.”

Davian frowned. “Most people?”

Malshash shifted. “Everyone who
has ever entered a rift, to the best of my knowledge,” he admitted. He sighed.
“You will go back, I promise. But you need to hone your Augur abilities, train
using kan before you can continue your journey.”

Davian looked at Malshash in open
surprise. “You can teach me?”

Malshash grinned. “Ah, did I
forget to mention? I’m an Augur too.” His continued to smile as he watched
Davian’s shocked expression, then stood. “Finish up your meal, then rest a
little more. I will return in the afternoon and we can begin your training.”

Before Davian could recover
enough to speak, Malshash had left the room. Davian stared after him, mouth
still open, for several more seconds.

“Yes, you forgot to mention
that,” he eventually muttered to himself.

He returned to his meal, not
knowing whether to feel excited or afraid. 

***

A few hours passed before there
was a knock on Davian's door.

He had been lying on the bed,
tired but unable to sleep, still struggling with the concepts Malshash had
tried to explain that morning. He leapt up and opened the door, relieved to
find that Malshash’s appearance had not changed since breakfast.

“Come with me,” said Malshash.

Davian trailed after the
shapeshifter. They walked out of the house and down a street, neither towards
the centre of the city nor towards one of the bridges.

“Where are we going?” Davian
asked.

“The Great Library. I can teach
you some things, a few tricks here and there, but much would be better coming
straight from the Darecians.”

Davian nodded, falling silent.
They walked at a casual stroll; Davian constantly had to slow to match
Malshash’s pace, his skin crawling as the mists caressed it. “Aren’t you afraid
the Orkoth will attack?” he asked nervously.

Malshash shook his head. “We need
not fear Orkoth.”

Davian was not going to be put
off. “Why?”

Malshash stopped in exasperation.
He closed his eyes, gesturing in the air.

The mists thickened and a cry
came, ear-splitting and chilling to the bone. Davian made to flee but suddenly
found his shoulder gripped by Malshash, whose eyes were open again.

The Orkoth formed in front of
them, as nightmarish as Davian remembered it. Its eyeless gaze sent a shiver
down his spine... however the creature did not seem aggressive. Instead it just
stood there, motionless.

Awaiting orders, Davian realised
with horror.

“
Adruus il. Devidri si Davian
,”
said Malshash, gesturing towards Davian.

“
Devidri si Davian
,”
repeated the Orkoth.

“
Sha jannin di
,” said
Malshash. The creature bowed – bowed! – and seemed to disintegrate into black
smoke. Within seconds the mists had faded again.

“You see,” said Malshash.
“Nothing to fear. Orkoth knows you now. He will not attack you.”

Davian gaped for a few moments at
Malshash’s back as the older man kept walking, then had to jog to catch up.

“Why can you control it?” he
asked quietly.

Malshash waved the question away.
“A use of kan. Simple enough when you know how.” He turned, raising an eyebrow
at Davian. “I'm sure you have more important questions, though?”

Davian was tempted to pursue the
matter, but some of the questions he had thought of in the past few hours came
bubbling to the surface. “When I go back,” he said, “ will I go back to the
same time as I left? Can I save Nihim?”

Malshash shook his head. “If what
I suspect is true, then… no. A part of you – the shadow of a shadow of you –
remains in your present. That is what will draw you back, when you’re ready. As
much time as you spend here, the same amount of time will have passed when you
return.” He shrugged. “The Jha’vett bends the rules, but it seems it cannot
break them entirely.”

Davian nodded; he’d hoped it
would be otherwise but somehow the answer didn’t surprise him. “Why did you
bring me here?” he asked. “How did you get this ring?”

Malshash didn’t stop walking. “I
did it to see if I could change things,” he said softly. “And I had the ring
because you... left it. Left it for me, I suspect.”

“So we’ve met before?”

Malshash shook his head. “Not
exactly. But our paths have crossed - in my past, your future. Briefly. I was
trying to prevent you from going to that time," he admitted, looking
uncomfortable. "But you must have dropped the ring knowing what I would do
with it, I suppose. Knowing this younger version of yourself would end up
here.” He laughed, a little bitterly. “Clever.”

Davian hesitated, trying to grasp
what Malshash was telling him. "So... you know my future, then?"

"Not really." Malshash
gave him an apologetic smile. "Before yesterday, all I knew was your name,
and that you were able to travel through the Rift. I
did
see you at a
distance, that one time... you had another scar, on the other side of your
face. That was a long time ago for me, though." He shrugged. "That's
all I can offer, I'm afraid."

Davian sighed, massaging his
temples. "Then why choose me?"

"You were the only person I
knew of who had survived the Rift. This was... a first step. A relatively
simple way to see if the past could be altered."

"So you wanted to use the
Jha'vett to change something?"

Malshash stared straight ahead.
"Yes. And the reasons behind that are my own." His tone indicated he
would say no more about it.

They walked for a few more minutes
in silence, until finally they came to a large building with white marble
columns at the front and an enormous dome. They climbed the stairs and stopped
in front of the massive double doors, which were closed. Malshash gestured at
them, and they swung open without a sound.

“The Great Library of Deilannis,”
he said, indicating Davian should enter.

Davian gaped openly once they
were inside. A gentle yellow glow bathed everything, similar to the lighting
used in the library back at the school at Caladel. They were in a large room –
massive, really – and every wall, every
inch
of wall, was filled with
books. They stretched away into each corner; further along Davian saw an open
doorway, through which it looked like there was another room also full to the
brim with tomes.

“How are we supposed to find
anything in here?” he asked, both awed and a little dismayed.

Malshash grinned. “Fortunately,
the Darecians were a rather clever people.” He guided Davian over to a short,
squat pillar in the centre of the room, atop which was a translucent blue
stone. “Place your hand over this, and think of what you need to know.”

Davian touched the stone lightly.
“But I don’t know what book I need.”

“You don’t need to know the name
of the book. Just think of what you’re trying to find out.”

A little cynical, Davian took a
deep breath and concentrated. He was there to learn to use his Augur abilities,
so he could go home. That was what he needed.

 The stone beneath his palm began
to glow; Davian snatched his hand away as if burned, though there had been no
physical sensation. A thread of blue light crept from the stone, slowly but
surely stretching out, moving towards the wall until it came to rest touching
the spine of a small red book. Another tendril appeared, this time in nearly
the opposite direction, eventually attaching itself to a book on the other side
of the room.

Three more tendrils appeared,
Davian watching in stunned silence. When it became clear there were to be no
more, he walked over to the first book, which seemed itself to be glowing with
the gentle blue light.

He took it carefully off the
shelf. It didn’t have a title, so he flipped it open to a random page.

His eyes widened as he read. It
was a discourse, thorough and frank, on the best ways to practice reading another
person’s thoughts. He flipped to a different section; this one talked about
natural offshoots of being an Augur. Even his own ability – the ability to
sense deception – was briefly discussed.

He read on in fascination. There
were methods to subtly engage a person’s thoughts, in order to manipulate them.
Implied rules, discussions of moral implications. Techniques of focus, ways to
achieve clarity when two minds were linked.

It was all there, written plainly
and simply, as if it were nothing at all remarkable.

He was lost for a while, flicking
pages back and forth in complete fascination. After a time there came a polite
cough, and he looked up to see Malshash watching him in amusement. Davian
flushed, realising he had been caught up for several minutes now.