An Echo of Things to Come Read online

  “They might be more inclined to leave you alone if they hear a refusal from you personally, you know.” Taeris sighed. “I know how you feel about Davian, but … don’t you think it might be worth at least talking to some of these boys?”

  “Not particularly.” Asha shook her head. “It’s nothing but awkward and embarrassing, Taeris. The Houses think I’m a prime target because I’m young, a Representative, and a Shadow. And what Shadow wouldn’t be grateful for the attention, right?” She couldn’t help but let a tinge of bitterness creep into her tone.

  Taeris looked at her blankly. “Is that really what you think?”

  Asha snorted. “Are you saying I’m wrong?”

  “I’m saying you’re wrong.” Taeris smiled at her dubious look. “The lords of the Houses do sometimes push their sons in certain directions, but … even with the Tol’s improved fortunes, I doubt any of them would be urged toward us. I really don’t think any of these boys were forced to make an approach.”

  Asha frowned. “You expect me to believe they’re genuinely interested?”

  To her surprise, Taeris laughed. “I expect you to have a better grasp on your own reputation,” he said with amusement. “A lot of people saw you fight at the Shields, and trust me, they haven’t kept quiet about it. For many of them, you’re the one who saved their lives. Fates, you’re the Shadow who saved the city. I still can’t get through a meeting without being asked for an introduction.”

  Asha blinked. “But there were girls from the Houses who fought, too,” she pointed out. “And bravely.”

  Taeris rubbed his forehead, still smiling. “True, but none impacted the battle the way you did. Not to mention that after that the Houses rally behind you to stop Administration from throwing you in jail, it turns out you’re a childhood friend of the prince, and you mysteriously ignore the attentions of some of the most eligible young men in Ilin Illan. Interested? Fates, Ashalia. Perhaps if you paid more attention to what’s going on rather than chasing news of the Shadraehin, you’d realize you’re considered one of the most intriguing women in the city right now.”

  Asha stared at him in silence for a few moments, flustered.

  “It … doesn’t matter,” she said eventually, shaking her head. She had been refusing a lot more invitations than when she’d been studying under Michal, but she’d assumed that was due to Tol Athian’s rising popularity and her relationship with Wirr rather than anything to do with her directly. “It doesn’t change anything. If you and Wirr really think I should keep my connection to Davian a secret, then I will—but I’m not going to pretend that I’m either interested or available. It’s a waste of my time and if what you’re saying is true, would be unfair to them as well.” She held Taeris’s gaze defiantly.

  The older man said nothing for a few seconds, then sighed.

  “As you say,” he murmured. He gave her a nod, the motion holding a hint of respect. “I will let Iain know.”

  He made to turn, then hesitated.

  “And Ashalia? It would be remiss of me not to remind you that if you have somehow been making your way down to the Sanctuary again, you are risking both your safety and your position as Representative in doing so.” His expression remained smooth as she began to frown at him. “And particularly remiss of me not to ask you to stay away from the detailed maps of that area that I happen to know are in the Athian library. The Council is done with them now, and I doubt anyone is keeping track of who accesses that sort of thing … but still. I trust that you’ll do the right thing.”

  He gave a wry nod to Asha’s grateful look and then opened the door, slipping out into the corridor and leaving her alone once again.

  Asha hurried along the still-scarred street, drawing her cloak closer against the gray morning and ignoring the stares of passers-by as she made her way back toward the palace.

  The walk was a short one across Ilin Illan’s Upper District, but the reminders of what had happened here a month ago were still everywhere. Most of the Builder-made structures remained but several more recent ones lay in crumbling, charred heaps, the recent rain leaking lines of black onto streets still pockmarked from where blasts of Essence had gouged out stone. New frameworks were rising everywhere—Asha could spot a dozen at a glance as she looked out over the districts below—but for every structure being rebuilt, two still lay in ruins.

  The crowds, too, moved differently than they once had. Ilin Illan’s streets were busy but most of its residents were quieter, subdued. People still hurried everywhere, but uneasily rather than cheerfully, cautiously rather than with purpose.

  Even now, it was as if those who had survived the attack couldn’t quite accept that the Blind were truly gone.

  She relaxed a little once she reached the palace, despite the still-blackened gardens harkening back to the battle as much as anywhere else. It was far from the beautiful landscape it had once been, but it was at least familiar.

  Strange though it seemed, this was home now.

  She made her way to her quarters, frowning as she spotted the muscular, redheaded man reclining against the wall by her door.

  “Can I help you?” she asked cautiously as she approached. The stranger’s clothes were finely made but bore no insignia, and she didn’t recognize him as being from one of the Houses.

  The stranger inclined his head politely. “Representative Chaedris? Prince Torin is waiting for you within.”

  Asha brightened. “Thank you.”

  She slipped inside. The study adjoining her quarters was entirely her own, larger and better appointed than the one in the Tol. It was also a Lockroom, ensuring that the conversations she had within were completely private, even from any Gifted or Augurs attempting to eavesdrop. The majority of the time that she was not assisting Taeris directly, she spent here.

  “Representative Chaedris,” said Wirr with mock formality as he stood, smiling. Despite the cheerful greeting, the blond-haired boy looked … older. Tired, more grim than he had even a month ago.

  “Prince Torin.” Asha grinned, then embraced him. “It’s good to see you, Wirr.”

  “You too, Ash,” said Wirr sincerely. “Sorry I haven’t been able to come and visit these past couple of weeks. Things have been …”

  “I know.” They both sat, and Asha nodded to the door. “Assistant?”

  “Bodyguard.” Wirr shrugged awkwardly at Asha’s sudden frown. “Just a precaution. I’m not the most popular figure in the city right now.”

  Asha stared at her friend worriedly for a few moments more, but eventually inclined her head, accepting the explanation.

  Then she smiled slightly. “Actually, that’s not necessarily what I hear.”

  Wirr gave her a blank look, then rolled his eyes as he understood. “Don’t even joke about that. My uncle’s already told me I can’t refuse any more dinner invitations without looking rude, no matter how much work I have to do. I’m supposed to be dining with the Tel’Raths tomorrow night.”

  Asha’s smile widened. “Along with the very eligible Iria Tel’Rath, I assume?”

  “I assume,” said Wirr heavily. He snorted as he saw her expression. “Don’t laugh. You haven’t fully understood the meaning of the word awkward until you’ve had to deal with …” He gestured as if trying to wave away the memory. “But I’ll tell you about that another time. Maybe. I can’t stay long, but I wanted to check if you’ve made any progress.”

  Asha’s amusement faded, and she glanced around to make sure the door was shut.

  “Still nothing,” she admitted. “I’ve made five trips down there now—one this morning, in fact. A few hours each time. But it’s a big place.”

  “Five?” Wirr’s blue eyes held hers, concerned.

  “I haven’t seen anything to be worried about,” Asha said quickly.

  Wirr grunted, not looking convinced. “And yet both the sha’teth and the Blind know their way around down there. Look, Ash—I know you can take care of yourself, but even with your Veil, every minute you
spend in the Sanctuary is a risk. What happens if you get injured? Trapped? It’s not as if we can come searching for you if you don’t come back.”

  Asha restrained a grimace at that. Wirr had a point—only Shadows could survive in the Sanctuary. She didn’t like keeping her dizzy spells from him, but this was why it was necessary. He was probably the one person who could truly force her to stop her investigation … and she knew he would, if he found out what had been happening.

  Wirr continued, oblivious to Asha’s discomfort. “Not to mention the trouble you’d be in if anyone found out you’d been down there at all. Fates, or even if they found out you still have that Vessel. On that alone, Administration would be trying to put you in a cell.”

  Asha waited until he’d finished, then widened her eyes at him. “It really is dangerous, isn’t it? Thank El I have you to tell me, Wirr. I would never have thought of all of that myself,” she said innocently.

  Wirr glowered at her, though eventually a reluctant smile crept back onto his face.

  “Fine. Point made. You’re not uninformed.” He scratched his chin. “You just make terrible, terrible choices.”

  Asha grinned at that. “Perhaps. But I’m the only one willing to look who actually can,” she reminded her friend gently.

  “I just want to make sure the risk is worth taking.” Wirr held up his hand as Asha made to protest. “I’m not suggesting you stop, and you know I’ll help in any way possible. But …” He looked at her seriously. “I don’t want you to get yourself killed chasing after something that may not even exist.”

  “The Shadraehin knew about the Vessels, Wirr. Knew Shadows didn’t lose their Reserves. She has to know more about how it all works.”

  “But that doesn’t mean she can help you find a cure. Or that there even is one.” Wirr rolled his shoulders awkwardly, evidently hating to be negative about something so important to her. “I hope there is. But …”

  “I know.” Asha couldn’t be angry at Wirr for doubting. He didn’t know about Davian’s message; without that, Asha herself would have had reservations about this pursuit. “I’m not giving up, though. I promise I’m being careful, but that’s the best I can offer you.”

  Wirr sighed, but eventually inclined his head.

  There was silence for a few seconds, and then Asha straightened. “What about your inquiries? Have you figured out how Administration got their Vessels?”

  Wirr grunted. “No,” he admitted. “Elder Olin always said that he didn’t know where Traps, Shackles, and the other Vessels used during the war came from—but I just assumed that he and the other Elders from Caladel simply didn’t want to talk about it.” He shook his head in obvious frustration. “Now, though … it doesn’t seem to matter who I ask. I can’t get a straight answer about it from anyone.”

  Asha’s heart sank. “But surely someone knows. Things like that don’t just materialize.” She’d been hoping that if they could find out more about the origin of the Vessels used to create Shadows, they could perhaps learn more about their operation.

  “And yet you’d think they did, the way everybody talks.” Wirr leaned forward, expression serious. “Ash, I couldn’t find a single person who remembers anything like them before twenty years ago. There’s no documentation of them in Administration’s files, and the Athian Council claims that they didn’t even know that creating Shadows was possible until they agreed to the Treaty. The same goes for the Vessel that controls the Tenets, and the Oathstones that are used to bind Administrators. I can’t find a single Gifted or Administrator who knows where they came from. Or at least, none who will admit it to me,” he amended drily.

  Asha gave him a sympathetic nod. Along with Administration’s continued fury, half of the Gifted seemed to feel that Wirr had betrayed them by not removing the Tenets entirely. Despite his best efforts, his allies on either side of that divide right now were few.

  “What about your uncle?” she asked eventually. “Surely he knows?”

  Wirr grimaced. “He’s only been back on his feet for a week, and he’s had more pressing issues to worry about. I did ask, a few days ago, but …” The blond-haired boy shook his head in evident frustration. “He told me to leave it alone. Claimed that he didn’t know, that my father had been in charge of it all—but he was adamant that the things that went on back then should be left in the past. He got a little agitated about it, actually.” He sighed. “He is still recovering, so perhaps I’ll let him calm down and ask again in a few weeks … but I’m not really expecting it will help. He’s right—my father was the driving force behind the rebellion. If anyone knew where the Vessels to make Shadows came from, it would have been him.”

  He fell silent.

  Asha felt a swell of sympathy for her friend, along with a brief stab of guilt. Would Erran know where the rebellion’s stockpile had originated? She doubted it; it seemed like information the Augur would have shared, even if he’d had to do so while pretending to be Elocien.

  She considered again whether to tell Wirr the truth about his father, and again immediately dismissed the idea. It wasn’t her secret to share and even if it had been, it would hardly be fair to either of her friends. Elocien was gone. Revealing Erran’s Control would only taint the good memories Wirr had of his father.

  Eventually she sighed, nodding. “What about the connection between Taeris and Laiman?” After overhearing the two men’s conversation the day after the attack on Ilin Illan, she had told Wirr everything she’d learned.

  “No evidence of it that I’ve been able to find.” Wirr shrugged. “I’m as curious about it as you, but Laiman’s been friends with my uncle since before the end of the war. As for Taeris, he’s one of the few people in the Assembly who actually believes that there might be worse than more soldiers in fancy armor waiting for us in Talan Gol. I think it’s safe to say that they’re both on our side, regardless of whatever secrets they’re keeping.”

  Asha frowned but nodded, not pressing the point. She wondered again about the other secret Laiman and Taeris had mentioned—the one Wirr supposedly knew about Davian, but that Davian himself didn’t know. She’d been sorely tempted to ask Wirr what it was … but after thinking about it, she’d decided that she should trust her friend and avoid putting him in an awkward position. If Wirr thought it was important for her to know, then he would tell her.

  “How are you doing with everything else?” she asked, switching topics.

  Wirr grunted. “Administration, you mean? They’re angry I’m in charge, angry my father kept the truth from them, angry that I’ve agreed to the Augur Amnesty. Angry the Tenets have been changed. Angry about the Shadows. They’re just …” He sighed.

  “Angry?” suggested Asha.

  Wirr gave her a tight, wry smile, though it quickly faded. “It’s making it very difficult to do anything that actually makes a difference. I try to organize anything within Administration, and it’s blocked. I put forward something to the Assembly, and my own people sabotage it. It’s … not what I was hoping it would be, thus far,” he concluded with a slightly self-conscious shrug.

  Asha gazed at her friend sympathetically for a few seconds. “It will get better. It’s only been a month; everyone’s still in shock at how much things have changed. Give it time.”

  Wirr sighed, nodding. He looked like he was about to say something when there was a sharp knock at the door; Asha opened it to find Wirr’s redheaded bodyguard standing outside.

  “Apologies for interrupting, Sire, but you’re needed,” he said, peering past her at Wirr. The words were delivered mildly enough, but something in his tone indicated urgency.

  Wirr grimaced, but inclined his head. He shot Asha an apologetic look. “The excitement never ends.” He held her gaze. “Promise me you’ll be careful?”

  Asha gave him a slight nod of confirmation. “You know where to find me if there’s any news. Or if you need an ear,” she added softly.

  Wirr gave her a quick, grateful smile, then followed his
bodyguard out into the hallway.

  Asha stared at the closed door for a few seconds, then sighed.

  It had been good to see Wirr, but she wished they had more time to talk—more time to enjoy the moments of familiarity and normalcy that always came from catching up with her friend from Caladel. Those moments were too few, and when they were over, they usually only made her long for their times back at the school. Especially the ones that had included Davian.

  After a few seconds, though, she pushed herself to her feet, heading to her desk and shuffling through the papers that had already begun piling up. There simply wasn’t time for reminiscing.

  She had a lot of work to get ahead on before her next trip to the Sanctuary.

  Chapter 3

  Wirr stifled a yawn as he closed the door behind him, then raised an eyebrow in his bodyguard’s direction.

  “So. What crisis needs averting now, Andyn?”

  The redheaded man—perhaps ten years Wirr’s senior—gave no indication of emotion or opinion as he spoke, maintaining the neutrally proper demeanor he always displayed. “Lady si’Danvielle just happened past, Sire. She seemed somewhat surprised to see me here, as she assumed that you would be attending the meeting between Administration and the newly arrived Desrielite ambassador.”

  “What meeting?”

  “Exactly, Your Highness.”

  Wirr stared at the muscular man for a moment, then looked to the side and cursed. “Pria.”

  “Lady si’Danvielle did mention Administrator si’Bellara was attending,” confirmed Andyn. “She took the ambassador into the Blue Hall ten minutes ago.”

  Wirr gritted his teeth. Administrator Pria si’Bellara was his second-in-command only because the three Administrators ahead of her had resigned rather than work for Wirr, but that didn’t mean that she made any effort to keep him informed. “I don’t suppose Lady si’Danvielle happened to mention what this meeting was about, seeing as you two seem to be on such good terms?”