The Shadow Of What Was Lost (6 page)

Davian frowned. "How can you
be sure?"

"There were once entire
books devoted to that period of history. Accounts from people living during the
Eternity War." Ilseth gave a rueful shake of his head. "Like
everything else, though, we kept them at the library at Tol Thane. I'm one of
maybe five or six people still alive who once took an interest in that
era."

Davian nodded slowly. Tol Thane
had been burned to the ground in one of the first attacks of the war, and the
vast store of knowledge the Gifted had kept there had been destroyed. He'd
often heard the Elders lamenting how much had been lost that day.

"I believe you," he
said eventually. "But what does all this have to do with me?"

Ilseth gazed at Davian for a long
moment, assessing him. He took a deep breath. "The Boundary is weakening,
Davian. Failing. We know how to fix it, but it was created by the Augurs... and
without the Augurs' powers, we can't do anything about it." He rubbed his
hands together, a nervous motion. "Devaed is long dead, of course, but
there have been... incidents in the north. People disappearing, or dying in the
most violent ways imaginable. Sightings of creatures that match the description
of dar'gaithin, eletai, shar'kath - some of the worst monsters from the time of
the Eternity War." He shook his head. "Some things have already got
through - things that no-one alive today is equipped to deal with. There's no
telling what else is waiting beyond if that barrier fails completely."

Davian looked at Ilseth in
disbelief. "And you want
me
to help? But... I have no training. No
idea
how to -"

"That's okay." Ilseth
made a calming gesture. "Have you heard of the sig'nari?"

"Of course. The Prefects -
the Gifted who served directly under the Augurs."

Ilseth nodded. “I was one, before
the Unseen War. A few of us survived, and we’ve been watching for the return of
the Augurs. For you, and others like you.” He held out the cube towards Davian.
“We're gathering the Augurs again, Davian. Trying to fix this before a terrible
evil is unleashed upon Andarra, and hopefully help the new generation of Augurs
in the process. If you are willing, this will lead you to somewhere you can be
trained. To people who can help you understand and use your abilities.”

Davian rubbed his temples; his
head had begun to ache. He sat in stunned silence for a few seconds. “Do the
other Elders from the Tol know about this? About... me?"

“No.” Ilseth grimaced. “The truth
is, Davian, very few of the Gifted can be trusted with your secret. The Tol has
been split for years on what to do should an Augur ever be found. Regardless of
what is happening at the Boundary, people like me see the Augurs as our way
back to restoring balance in Andarra, to stopping the oppression of the
Gifted.”

Davian gave a slow nod. “And the
others?”

“Would see everyone with those
abilities dead.” Ilseth said the words flatly. “And they are in the majority.
You said it yourself – many Gifted still hate the Augurs for what happened, for
what they seemingly threw away. And like it or not, people will think of you as
one of them, no matter how you differ from what they eventually became.”

Davian was silent for several
seconds. Ilseth hadn't lied.

He leaned forward, taking the
bronze box from the Elder.

“You said this will guide me,
somehow? How does it work?” Davian turned the box over in his hands. It emitted
a slight warmth, more than it should have from simply retaining Ilseth’s body
heat. It was covered in minute, strange symbols - writing, perhaps, though it
was no language that Davian had ever seen.

“I’m… not sure,” admitted Ilseth.
“I think it’s a Vessel, though it’s older than most I’ve seen before. But I
don’t know how to use it.” He made a face. “I’m only told what I need to know.
That way, if I’m ever discovered, I can’t give away anything important.”

“Then what am I supposed to do
with it?”

“Just take it north. Do that, and
I promise it will take you where you need to go.” Ilseth leaned forward. “You
see now why I needed you to Read me, Davian? You’re going to have to take a lot
on faith. You need to leave tonight.
Now
. If you stay, by sunset tomorrow
you’ll be a Shadow, and all of this will have been for nothing.”

Davian gazed at Ilseth for a
moment longer, massaging his temples again to ease his aching head. No puffs of
black smoke had escaped Ilseth’s mouth while he'd been speaking. He
was
telling the truth. Davian felt a little dizzy, trying to take it all in. “I
need to talk with Elder Olin.”

“
No
.” The force of
Ilseth’s response surprised Davian. The older man hesitated, then sighed. “I’m
sorry, Davian, but if the Elders here find out, they will tell your
Administrator. And you may have a good relationship with Talean, but if he
finds out you’re an Augur, he is bound by the Treaty to turn you in. You know
that.”

Davian opened his mouth to
respond, but Ilseth held up a hand, forestalling his protest. “Even if I’m
wrong, and you can trust the Elders not to say anything - do you really think
Elder Olin would just let you go? Leave the school without a Shackle, unbound
by the Fourth Tenet, with no explanation, on your word? Even on mine? You can
trust me because you
know
I’m not lying. No-one else has that
advantage.”

Davian hesitated. Ilseth was
right; none of the Elders would just let him leave, no matter how much trust
there was between them.

He acknowledged the statement
with a terse nod. He was trapped, underwater with nowhere to surface. The
entire conversation felt surreal.

Ilseth watched him closely. “I
know this is a lot to take in,” he said, “ but I have to know. Will you go?”

Davian shook his head, not
wanting to have to make the decision. “What of the people here? What will you
tell them?”

“Nothing.” Ilseth’s tone was
firm. “They will think you’ve simply run away for fear of becoming a Shadow -
we both know it's common enough. They’ll send people to look for you, but Tol
Athian doesn’t have the resources to waste on runaways for long. At worst, they
will tell Administration... but you’d need to be avoiding run-ins with them
anyway.”

Davian’s stomach twisted. Asha.
Wirr. What would they think? He couldn’t go and explain what was happening now;
even if there was time, he had no doubt that they would try to stop him.

He hesitated, then looked Ilseth
in the eye. “If I go, you need to promise me you will tell my friends why I
left. They can keep a secret.”

“The two I saw you with earlier,
I assume.” Ilseth sighed. “They know of your ability?”

“Yes.”

There was silence as Ilseth
thought for a moment, adjusting his glasses absently as he did so. “Very well.
I’d advise against it, but if it will make your decision easier, I will speak
to them after the Trials tomorrow. You have my word.”

Davian nodded. It did make the
decision easier – not palatable, not comfortable, but it
did
help.

And, he realised with surprise,
he’d made that decision. Ilseth hadn’t lied once. The chance to finally
confront this strange ability he had, the chance to be around people who could
tell him
something
about the Augurs – he had longed for it for some
time. And compared to what would happen if he stayed….

“So. North,” he said quietly,
hefting the cube in his hand.

“Yes,” said Ilseth with a visible
flash of relief. He obviously hadn’t been certain that Davian would go. “I was
told only that you need to head northward for as long as it takes, and that you
will know exactly where to go when the time comes.” He spread his hands in an
apologetic gesture. “I hate to be so cryptic, but that is all the information I
have.”

Davian just nodded. He was
accepting so much else on faith, the vagueness of the directions seemed hardly
surprising. He looked around his room, mind clearer now that he knew his
course. “It will take me a few minutes to gather my things.” He paused.
“Someone will be on duty at the gate.”

“Leave that to me.” Ilseth drew a
small pouch from beneath his robe. It clinked as he tossed it to Davian. “For
your journey. Stay away from towns where you can, but you’ll need to buy food,
and there will be some nights where the only option is an inn.”

Davian peered inside. A number of
gold coins glittered in the heavy pouch – enough to feed him indefinitely, and
more. A small fortune.

"Fates," he breathed, a
little stunned. “Thank-you.”

Ilseth stood, laying a hand on
Davian’s shoulder. “If you can learn to become a true Augur, lad, then it’s
worth it a hundred times over.” He headed for the door. “Give me a quarter hour
to take care of the guards, then leave. No later, mind you. I won’t be able to
distract them for long.” He paused. “And be very careful over the next few
weeks, Davian. Stay out of sight where you can. People will be looking for
you.”

He opened the door and slipped
through, shutting it again behind him.

Davian sat for a few minutes,
just holding the bronze box Ilseth had given him, trying to gather his
scattered thoughts. Was this really happening? Dazedly, he recalled what he’d
overheard earlier that day. Could he be 'the boy' Talean and Ilseth had been
talking about, that the Northwarden himself was so interested in? He dismissed
the idea immediately. If the other Elders had no knowledge of his ability,
there was no way the Northwarden would.

He stood mechanically, fetching a
bag from beneath his bed and throwing his scant belongings into it. A couple of
plain woollen tunics, a pair of trousers, the cloak Mistress Alita had given
him for his last birthday. He had not bothered to undress for bed; he tucked
the pouch of coins safely into his belt, hidden from view. Bandits would be an
issue on the road anyway, but there was no benefit to tempting them.

The box Ilseth had given him, he
wrapped in its cloth and then slipped into a pocket. It was bulky, but if it
was as important as Ilseth said, the discomfort was worth having it on his
person.

Just as he finished, another soft
knock from the hallway – this one familiar – made him curse silently. Wirr’s
timing couldn’t have been worse.

He hesitated, considering just waiting
until his friend left. The room was unlocked though, and locking it would give
away the fact he was there; Wirr was just as likely to come in uninvited as he
was to give up.

Moving quietly, Davian stuffed
the bag beneath his bed.

Wirr looked up as the door swung
open, a solemn expression in place of his usual grin. Davian gestured for him
to enter, mind racing. There were only minutes before he had to leave, and Wirr
would want to stay for longer than that.

He came to a decision before the
door was shut. Ilseth had warned him not to talk to anyone, but this was Wirr.
Besides, he needed to tell
someone
.

“I’m leaving, Wirr. Tonight.” He
said the words softly but firmly.

Wirr blinked. “
What
?” He
had begun to sit, but now stood again, shaking his head. “Dav, no! That’s a
bad
idea. I know becoming a Shadow is a terrifying thought, but -”

“I’m not running away,” Davian
interrupted. “Elder Tenvar, from Tol Athian, was just here. He asked me to go.”
He hurriedly related the conversation, finishing by reaching into his pocket
and pulling out the bronze Vessel. He unwrapped the cloth cover and held it up
for Wirr’s inspection. “The Elder doesn’t know what this is, only that it will
guide me to where I need to go - somewhere to the north. Once I get there, I’ll
start my training. Learn how to become an Augur. Hopefully help seal up the
Boundary again, before it's too late.”

Wirr, who had listened to the
entire story in silence, frowned. “You’re sure he was telling the truth?”

“Yes. Completely. I wouldn’t be
doing this otherwise.”

Wirr’s expression didn’t change;
if anything his frown deepened as he thought. “’North’ is a little vague, don’t
you think?”

Davian shrugged, turning the box
over in his hands. “Apparently this will lead me the rest of the way.”

“Perhaps.” Wirr still did not
sound convinced. “And you can’t mention this to anyone here?”

“I know how it sounds, but it
does
make sense. There's a reason we haven’t told the Elders what I can do.” Davian
glanced at the door. “I have to go in a couple of minutes, Wirr. Ilseth is
distracting the guards; it’s my only opportunity. I’m sorry to leave you like
this. Truly.”

Wirr considered his friend,
looking conflicted. Then he straightened. “I’m going with you.”

Davian shook his head fiercely.
“No. I appreciate the offer, but I have nothing to lose. You do. You'll do well
at Tol Athian, probably end up an Elder in ten years or so. You can do
something meaningful with your life. I can’t let you give that up.”

“I know exactly what I’m giving
up, and it’s my decision to make.” Wirr voice was calm, his words measured.
“You’re my friend, Dav, and this thing that you’ve been asked to do – it sounds
dangerous. Fates, if the Boundary is really about to collapse, it
is
dangerous. I’d regret it forever if I let you go without someone there to watch
out for you.” Gone was the customary lightness to Wirr’s tone.