The Light of All That Falls, page 12
Whether anybody was left to remember her.
The Shifts brought it all back. She could handle the physical pain—even if it didn’t feel like it at the time, she always knew it was going to end. But what it meant, the reminder, stuck with her for much longer and hurt far worse.
“Welcome back.”
Asha opened her eyes again, wiping the moisture away and sitting up. Elli was standing in the doorway. Though her tone was light, even cheerful, her eyes were full of concern.
“It was too soon.” Asha’s voice was hoarse. “I should have had weeks.”
The young woman—she was perhaps five years older than Asha herself—nodded, her waist-length, straight black hair swinging with the motion. “Something is wrong,” she agreed.
Asha’s breath caught at the words. “Do you know what?”
“My best guess is some sort of external disruption.” Though she was undoubtedly perturbed, Elli’s tone was as calm as ever. “Was the Shift any different from usual?”
“No,” said Asha automatically.
Then she swallowed and held up a hand, forcing herself to think back properly.
“The beginning was odd,” she conceded. “Usually when it happens, the Tributary machinery is already in motion. This time… this time it felt like it started as I woke up. Because I woke up.”
“A disruption to the dok’en, then, rather than the Tributary itself. The Shift mechanism was reacting to your altered state, rather than causing it.” Elli crossed her arms, giving her a mock-stern look. “What did you do?”
“Nothing. Nothing!” said Asha quickly, defensive despite herself. “I’d just checked whether the dok’en needed reinforcing, but I’ve done that plenty of times before. I thought I saw something down near the forest not long before that, but… I don’t know what it was. If anything. Something just didn’t feel right,” she finished lamely. “You can’t… do some sort of test, I suppose?”
Elli shook her head apologetically. “You know I cannot,” she chided gently. “The changes I can make here are superficial; I am still governed by the laws of this place. Whereas the dok’en is drawing on your Essence, which is why you have enough access to its underlying structure to stabilize it.” She shrugged. “I can play with the facade, but you’re the only one here who has any level of access to the foundations.”
Asha conceded the point tiredly. That was about all she was likely to get out of the woman.
She still, even after all her research, didn’t completely grasp how Elli’s existence was possible. A dok’en was a kind of Vessel, constructed from kan to mimic a place from its creator’s memory—and then using a small, ongoing connection to that person’s mind to keep the rules within consistent. Which was why Asha wasn’t suddenly able to fly, or control kan, or will a building to change into something else: if it wouldn’t be possible for her in the real world, then it wasn’t possible here.
That all made sense to her. But Elli? Despite by her own admission being part of the dok’en, Elli acted almost like a real person. She clearly had memories of a life here with Tal’kamar—Caeden—as she had absently mentioned him more than once, and yet she refused to share them. She was incredibly knowledgeable in every area Asha had thought to ask her about, but she also learned, acted independently, reacted, remembered. She was caring, too, even witty. Asha liked her.
But the books all suggested that mimicking something as complex as a person within a dok’en simply wasn’t feasible.
Still—despite feeling occasionally unsettled by that knowledge, Asha wasn’t complaining. It was Elli who had saved her, those first few weeks after she had entered the Tributary. Asha had woken up here in this extraordinarily beautiful, peaceful place, confused and alone and terrified. Wondered, briefly, if she had somehow escaped her fate.
And then the edges of the dok’en had trembled, shadows rushing in on her. She’d been ripped from tranquility to burning misery. After a while reality would stutter, and she would be reclining in a soft bed in the palace. And then, seconds later, she would be in agony again. And on, and on, for longer than she could fathom, until she almost lost her grip on what was real. Constantly a heartbeat away from just letting go, giving in.
Asha wasn’t sure how long had passed before she’d heard Elli’s voice, instructing her on what to do. How to steady the walls of the dok’en, solidify and push them outward. It had been close to impossible, focusing in that state, and she had fallen agonizingly short so many times before finally gaining a foothold and stabilizing this place.
She was determined to never let things go back to that way again.
Elli held out her hand; Asha grasped it gratefully, allowing the other woman to haul her to her feet. She stumbled a little, but her legs quickly steadied. The physical effects of a Shift never bled through into the dok’en for long; besides, rest would only bring with it the chance to wallow.
She needed to be up, and out, and doing something.
“Do you have any suggestions for investigating?” she asked, stretching.
Elli frowned thoughtfully. “If the dok’en is stable—and I believe it is—then… I’m afraid not. And you’ve already read every book in the library that even touches on the subject. Twice.” She gave Asha an apologetic look. “We will simply need to be on guard for anything unusual.”
Asha made a face, but inclined her head. “Then I think perhaps it’s time for some training,” she said, forcing some cheer into her voice. “The exercise will do me good.”
“Already?” Elli eyed her dubiously.
Asha glared at her. “Yes. Already. Let’s go.”
She strode past the other woman without waiting for a response, drawing a sliver of energy from her Reserve to make sure she didn’t stumble again. Though she wasn’t really accessing the power—everything here was in her head, including her use of Essence—she still did her best not to tap it to excess. If she ever got to use it outside the dok’en again, drawing too much would pull Essence away from the Shadows and Lyth connected to her, potentially to dangerous levels. Asha had been on the receiving end of that connection herself. She had long ago resolved to practice accordingly, and not to take her enormous pool of energy for granted.
Elli trailed after her as she made her way out to the open courtyard, which was bathed in the last rosy light of dusk. Like everything else here it was perfect, the white stone underfoot inlaid with polished obsidian, the designs elegant and flowing. Cushioned stone benches lined the long, slightly sunken space, and perfectly manicured firs bordered it at regular intervals, marking the shallow man-made stream that formed one edge. In its center three fountains spouted in time with one another, ejecting thin streams that seemed to hang in the air, sparkling in the dying light, before dropping gracefully back into their pools with barely a splash.
A gleaming weapon lay on one of the nearby benches: a proper blade today, Asha was pleased to see. Elli would sometimes, apparently on a whim, conjure something different for her to use—axes, spears, even flails—always touting the importance of understanding how each was wielded. Today, though, Asha just wanted to spar using something with which she actually felt comfortable.
She picked up the weapon as she passed, breathed deeply of the fresh air, then turned to Elli and carefully tapped her Reserve.
Golden light began to seep from her skin—not focused at one point as was normal, but rather appearing as hundreds of tiny, burning threads, all curling out at different points, interweaving and tightening to conform to the shape of her body. Asha’s arms and legs began to shimmer as the power solidified, molding itself to her beneath her clothing as well as over exposed skin. She could feel the energy creeping up her neck and over her head, too, though it never reached a point on her face where it might obstruct her vision.
Within seconds the Essence armor had fully formed, pulsing around her and seeping into her skin, bright but no longer as distracting as it had once been. Asha flexed the fingers of her free hand, watching as the protective energy shifted smoothly with the motion.
It had taken her six months of daily practice to learn this, after reading of it in one of the books Elli had recommended—even with constant coaching from Elli herself. The armor’s direct connection to Asha’s flesh made it partially internal, allowing her body to act like a Vessel, largely protecting the Essence from decay. It would stop anything short of a direct attack with kan, and its open connection to her Reserve meant that if any Essence was expended, it would be instantly replaced.
It still used more energy than she would necessarily have liked, but if it came down to it—if she needed to fight—then this was an advantage she would happily use.
Elli was watching from the edge of the courtyard. She sighed theatrically. “That really is very unfair, you know.”
Asha shrugged. “You’re the one who keeps saying that defense is my biggest concern.” It was true enough; Asha’s raw strength gave her incredible destructive power, but it wouldn’t stop an arrow or blade that she didn’t see coming. “Besides. Being unfair is kind of the point.”
Elli raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
A massive blow crashed across Asha’s back, sending her flying forward. Her armor absorbed most of the damage but pain still wrenched through her torso as she rolled, digging her heels into the courtyard, stone scraping and cracking as she ground to a halt. She shook her head dazedly.
Where she had been standing, another version of Elli stood—clad in exactly the same armor as Asha’s.
Asha scrambled to her feet and shot the first Elli a dirty look, letting Essence flow into her muscles, loosening them again.
“I suppose I asked for that,” she muttered.
Then both versions of the woman—one shining bright, one not—dashed toward her.
Weapons appeared in her opponents’ hands: dual short, curved blades of Essence for the original, and a long spear—steel, rather than one made of energy—for her copy. They were on her in a moment; Asha swayed back calmly as the spear cut the air inches from her eyes, then flicked her hands and unleashed a carefully directed, concentrated blast of Essence at the other, unprotected version of Elli.
The force of the explosion shattered the white stone underfoot, cracks rippling across the entire courtyard away from where the stream traveled. Asha’s movements had given her away, though; Elli blocked almost disdainfully with an Essence shield of her own, perfectly formed. Despite the crackling torrent of power rushing around her, she remained untouched, though she at least skidded backward from the impact.
Asha spun back to face the Elli with the spear, but the armored woman had stopped, her eyes disapproving through the glowing visor.
“You’re using your hands again,” she said chidingly. “Remember—no gestures, no words. These are the signs of a mind poor in discipline. A mind that needs trickery as a crutch to perform its tasks.”
Asha grunted, blade still up and keeping one eye on the other Elli, who had dismissed her shield again and was circling into Asha’s blind spot. “In a real fight, I’m going to do everything I can to win.”
“If you need to do it in a real fight, there’s a good chance you won’t—”
Elli stopped midsentence, lurching to a complete halt.
Asha felt her brow crease, glancing bemusedly behind her. The unarmored version of Elli was motionless, too. Frozen.
“Fascinating,” murmured an unfamiliar woman’s voice from behind Asha’s left ear.
Asha leaped and spun with a shout of surprise; a stranger had appeared next to her in the middle of the now-shattered courtyard, though Asha couldn’t see how she’d made it there unnoticed. The short, athletic-looking woman wasn’t paying her any attention, though. She was instead studying the two versions of Elli, arms crossed thoughtfully.
“A training partner built into the dok’en?” she mused. “Impressive. Tal’kamar went to some effort.”
“Who are you?” snapped Asha, pointing her steel at the woman in what she hoped was a threatening manner, trying to get the shock in her voice under control. Other than Elli, this was the first person she had seen in… a year? “What did you do to her?”
The intruder continued her examination of Elli, then turned in unhurried fashion to look at Asha. Her eyes were deep brown, almost black.
“You are shorter than I expected,” she said. Her gaze held Asha’s, and somehow Asha knew what was coming before she spoke again.
“My name is Diara—I am here to represent the Venerate. It is nice to finally meet you, Ashalia,” she finished quietly.
Chapter 6
Asha didn’t hesitate.
She tapped her Reserve and gestured, sending a massive, slicing blade of energy scything toward Diara, for once not holding back. The solid razor of light smashed into the stone, the fountain, and one of the benches beyond, splitting it all with a thundering crack and an explosion of rubble, the hissing of water turning to steam audible as the din settled.
“That sparring construct was right,” said Diara as she emerged from the dust, waving her hand in front of her face and then brushing some grit from her sleeve in a vaguely irritated fashion. “You need to learn not to use gestures. You’re strong, but I’ve known blind men who could have dodged that.”
Asha scowled, drawing deeper from her Reserve this time. She didn’t need to worry about the Tributary here, or the Shadows. She could use more.
Much more.
She unleashed a wave of utter, burning destruction. Similar to the one she had used a year ago against the tek’ryl, but more controlled this time.
Everything in front of her… melted.
The water in the fountains evaporated in an instant, surrounding stone liquefying and sliding to the ground in a red, glowing mass where it didn’t burst apart and fly away. The green grass vanished and at the bottom of the hill, trees that had been swaying gently in the wind burned angrily through the miasma of smoke and destruction.
In a single moment, the beauty of the palace gardens had been transformed into something terrible to behold.
Asha breathed heavily as she dropped her outstretched hands, dizzy, unaccustomed to drawing that much power at once. The air in front of her shimmered, the haze of heat distorting everything beyond.
Her heart sank as a line of glowing stone suddenly dulled and hardened within the chaos, and she spotted the figure emerging along the newly made path.
Diara walked through the boiling heat at an unhurried pace, clearly protecting herself with a bubble of kan. She stepped calmly out of the destruction and back onto the broken white stones of the courtyard.
“A blind man may have had trouble with that one,” the Venerate conceded drily.
Asha glared and dashed at her, blade in hand: perhaps kan could protect Diara from Essence, but steel was another matter. She would never be a master with the weapon, but Asha’s confidence with it had grown greatly over the past six months. The Essence coursing through her limbs made her stronger, too—and her reactions faster than any normal person could possibly hope to match.
Diara blurred, near-impossible to track even with Asha’s enhanced senses. Asha adjusted but too slowly; a blow to her side sent her stumbling and then she was looking up from the ground to where Diara stood, the other woman holding the sword Asha had just dropped.
Diara sighed. “Now. Before you bring the Crystalline Palace to the ground as well, perhaps we can talk?”
“I know who you are.” Asha scrambled to her feet warily, not dropping her armor or her guard. She refrained from another attack, though, at least for now. “I don’t think we have much to talk about.”
Her pulse raced; everything had changed, and so quickly that she could barely comprehend it. The Venerate had found her. She’d known that they would search—of course they would search—but to have one of them here, so soon…
“You would be surprised,” said Diara with a cold smile, reading Asha’s expression. “Let us start with the obvious: I am here to give you a choice, not to kill you. Killing you would be easy, but… of little gain. Your mind would likely be healed by that ridiculous store of Essence—and even if it was not, your body would still be linked to the Siphon and continue to supply the Tributary. I will try it, if it comes to that,” she admitted calmly, “but I would prefer to explore more… positive outcomes, for both of us.”
Asha took a moment, processing the words. Diara either didn’t know where the Tributary was—entirely possible, as her access to the dok’en could have been from anywhere if she had the right tools—or couldn’t get past its defenses. Information that the Venerate obviously didn’t mind Asha knowing. A strange thing to admit to so quickly.
“I won’t leave the Tributary, and I will not tell you where it is.” Asha put iron into her voice. “There is no deal you can make that would convince me to do either of those things.”
“Which is why I am not going to ask you to,” said Diara.
Asha opened her mouth but then shut it again, brow furrowing as she searched Diara’s expression for a clue to her intent. What other bargain could the Venerate possibly wish to make with her?
“Then what…” Asha trailed off. “Why are you here?”
Diara held up a hand. “First, I would like to show you something while the opportunity presents itself. What is happening where I am in the physical world.”
Asha’s vision suddenly went black, and then she was somewhere else.
A wave of nausea washed through her, followed by lurching disorientation as she tried to grasp something to steady herself, only to discover that she was no longer in control of her own body. She was seated in a small, black stone room; the large window she could see through overlooked a massive torch-lit stadium, which appeared to be entirely underground. Voices howled from the writhing crowd packed inside. Below, one man stood amid a sea of motionless forms, the blades in his hands glistening red.
