SWNOVELS Shadowblade: (A Dance of Fire and Shadow Book 1) – Chapter 4
THE SUN’S RAYS SLOWLY shift direction through the overhanging branches. I have been walking for almost two hours. I don’t ride. Let Sahan conserve her strength after that chase. My body is desperate for the exercise to prevent my limbs from shaking and I need time to calm my thoughts and think, now the shock is wearing off and grief for my lost family threatens to overwhelm me.
I have never seen the Shadowblade’s place but I know where it is. Everyone in Caerlen was told exactly where it lay so we could avoid it, avoid being tempted into contemplating his sinister gift of fighting skill and power.
There is already a war inside my head, a fierce battle between a lifetime of conditioning to fear everything about the Blade––and my need to trust my mother’s last words. If I don’t believe this is my only chance to find Alina and the rest of my people I will have to find another way and alternative ideas are simply not presenting themselves, no matter how hard I look.
But if Isennia––somehow I can’t think of my mother in the same context as the Shadowblade––if she truly had the kind of power he is supposed to confer, how could she have lost her fight with the soldiers? I vow to find an answer before making any commitment to this… stealer of souls.
I don’t know if it is my imagination or my sentan awareness, but I feel we must be drawing near. The trees are taller and closer together, blotting out the sun. A tall dark outcropping of rock looms above the narrow trail, carved by some unknown ancient stonemason into a brooding form, hooded and cloaked. I can’t tell whether this was done as a warning to stay away, or whether there was once a shadowy and secret cult that left this as an offering and token to the Blade’s power.
The steady drip, drip, drip of falling water echoes from the low cliff of moss-covered rocks ahead. Maybe the air itself is colder here, or maybe there is something else, an icy presence hovering in the shadows, sending a shiver across my skin.
I fight my reluctance to go any further and Sahan doesn’t want to move on either, pulling urgently against the reins as I try to lead her. I tether her to a branch and walk alone. Only my vow to save my sister keeps me going, moving slowly through the shadows until I can see a rough stone slab like a heavy table set in front of the glistening wet rockface. On it stands a wide earthenware bowl full of water. Nearby, two empty crystal glasses.
“You look far too fearful to be of any use to me.”
The voice is smooth yet brittle, cold as the breath of a midwinter night. I turn sharply, wondering how he moved so silently. Few living creatures can get so close without my hearing. Yet when I see him I wonder if maybe he is not actually alive, his face pale and ageless, framed by hair so raven-black it could be liquid darkness swirling around his head.
He steps closer, his limbs thin and bony beneath their black silk but I can tell from the way he moves that he is strong. Terrifyingly strong. Somehow his arrogance makes me angry in spite of the fear.
“I didn’t come here to offer my services to you.”
It could almost be laughter, another layer of cold echo rippling around the dripping rockface.
“Oh, but you did. I can sense already what you have in your hand.”
I’m still clutching the tiny flask with the last of my mother’s lifeblood. The glass is warm in my fingers. I am determined to keep my voice steady.
“I haven’t made a decision yet. I have questions for you first.”
More ice-frozen echoes. Derision, not mirth.
“Ask. I do not lie.”
Unbelievably, it sounds genuine––but I’m still suspicious.
“If my mother carried your gift it didn’t help her much. She’s dead. So I’ve been thinking you’re probably useless. A pathetic waste of my time.”
There is anger in the hissing breath like shards of broken glass cutting the air.
“Don’t provoke me, little mouse. I have many ways to cause harm. Isennia had no training. She wasted her gift with no more than a few martial forms practiced alone in the forest. And in spite of that waste she killed five of the soldiers before they cut her down.” Another angry hiss. “And because of her neglect, her lack of training, your sister had no time to run and hide in the trees.”
It fills in the gaps and makes a little more sense of what I saw in the village. If such carnage could ever be called sense. But I still don’t trust him.
“How could you possibly know? You weren’t there.”
He doesn’t answer, just points to the bowl set on the stone slab. I move closer and look. The carved rim encircles the water, a ring of golden scales in the form of the eternal serpent devouring its own tail. Then the dark surface of the water changes, silvering to a mirror-like smoothness. A scattering of images, too fast to make out before the water settles to show a sea of men and horses moving through the forest along the wide swathe of grass either side of the cart track. A legion in strange black and red uniforms, foot soldiers and cavalry.
Can I trust this vision? It could be no more than a wild projection of my own mind based on what I saw in the village. The Blade notices my hesitation. His anger seems to have dissipated a little.
“I already told you, I do not lie. But you humans are so born to deceit you will always struggle to find the truth within any array of information as it arrives. You will need to train hard if you wish to become adept with the power I can give you. Part of that will be learning how to interpret and use what you see and hear.”
I try to look into his eyes but they are so deep-set they seem no more than dark hollows in that pale mask of a face. I will not show my fear. I will challenge him.
“So tell me this, Blade. If you’re so powerful, isn’t it rather a coincidence that your place is so conveniently close to my home? Seems to me you’re no more than a small and petty local ifrit hoping to draw power from the offerings and pledges of a few village people.”
That brittle laughter again. I think I preferred the hissing anger.
“Such vanity! Do you really think I would waste my time on one small village? Every hamlet, every town, has made a place for me. And yes. My strength grows with offerings and gifts but I have enough of both. So choose soon, little mouse, before I lose patience and leave you here with nothing.”
I hold out the tiny flask. “Take it. If that’s all you want. But I heard you also steal the souls of your followers.”
To my amazement he hesitates. “Different. You are the first for some years to even ask. Most are so greedy for what they might gain they don’t pause to consider what else might be involved. But I only take what is offered. After this initiation gift, anything you lose, any part of yourself that is destroyed, will be a curse of your own making.” He takes the flask and presses the curved side of it to his lips, brows furrowed in concentration.
“Hmm. Freely given. Maybe why you are different.”
I watch as he fills the two glasses with water from the bowl and lets a few red drops from the flask fall into one of them. The water turns rose-tinted, like the fine wines the merchants bring from the vineyards of the south. He tastes it and smiles, but there is no warmth in the way he looks at me. Nothing but that cold smile, a hint of triumph waiting to be explored slowly and deliberately.
“It is just possible you will be unlike most of the others. Maybe you will hone this gift and grow your power in a different way instead of becoming swallowed up by it. Instead of letting it force you into destroying yourself. That could be interesting for me. I may find time occasionally to watch your progress.”
“You mean you’ll help me if I’m in trouble?” Seems too good to be true. Turns out, it is.
“Of course not. Your fate now is your own business. Being interested in you doesn’t mean getting involved, merely observing.” He draws a slender dagger from his belt and plunges the blade into the untouched glass. The water hisses nastily and I take a step back, half expecting it to fill with snakes or at least turn black or blood-red or––
In two strides he is standing in front of me like a looming dark shadow and flings the contents of the glass at me. The clear water somehow manages to soak my whole body in freezing liquid, my face stinging with its touch. Except that no water could be so cold and not be solid ice. I feel the runnels of it coursing down my arms and legs, burning with ice and fire together. I refuse to move or scream. I will not give him satisfaction, no chance for more of that hollow, mocking laughter.
Just when it seems my very heart will freeze and die, it’s all over.
Ordinary water dampens my hair and shift. I look round but he has gone, without a whisper.
I find Sahan and lead her west, back towards the cart track that will take us to the city. I could tell by the angle of the sun on the vision in the Blade’s scrying-mirror that the invading legions were heading towards Corinium.
That is where Alina and the others will be.