Without a shadow, p.14
Without a Shadow, page 14
Nadir laughed. “No. But she was very jealous for a while.”
They came outside and Adlai took in a steadying breath. The sun was so much less intense here than it was in Libra. The heat didn’t burn; it danced across the sea and came out cooler and sweeter in the breeze.
“The classes will get easier, the more you practice,” Nadir said. “How were you using your shadow before?”
They were alone on the steep, rocky path back to the houses. Adlai hesitated. The Shadow Game had always been a secret, and although she knew casters used their shadows to steal when they left to get supplies, she wasn’t sure what Nadir would think of petty theft. “I used to steal from the desert market with it,” she said at last.
Nadir nodded slowly. “Okay . . . well, Caster Mai could have been a lot nicer to you the other day. Did you see anything you liked in her stall?”
Adlai stopped in her tracks. “You’re not serious?”
Her dark eyes glittered. “I’ll even distract her if you like.”
A wide grin swept across Adlai’s face. Playing the Shadow Game had always filled her with excitement. It was the time when everything was in Adlai’s reach. In her control.
Could she trick her shadow into stealing if she wanted it badly enough? Would it fall into old habits?
Nadir went to Caster Mai’s stall by herself. Adlai hung back, hidden by the cluster of rocks that began the steep path back to the temple. It was a far distance away. Mai’s bright orange tent shone like a beacon to her, but she could only see hints of a rail of clothing and a table with an odd assortment of shapes. She would never have let her shadow stretch that far in the desert market. She wasn’t sure it would have been possible before, but now . . .
As she brought out her shadow, she felt the weight of its power roll down the hill. Her shadow was a part of her, but it was different since leaving the shadow world. Stronger. The power of a god, according to Caster Fecks.
She swallowed.
Her shadow had the power of a god. She would never be able to harness that kind of power. She’d been lucky to steal with it in the past.
No. She was playing the game today. She didn’t even need to see into the stall to know what she wanted. She’d seen the item on that first day Nadir had shown her the stall. Behind Caster Mai on the railing had been a dress. The top had been the color of the sky with billowing sleeves that went from pale blue to white to completely sheer. The skirt was long and ruffled and melted from yellow into orange with the hint of red in its hem. It was day turning into a sunset, and she wanted it.
So she was going to get it.
She pushed her shadow out. It was a long stretch to reach the tent, but Adlai felt strangely calm. It was like being back at the desert market, where stealing had always been second nature, a simple flex of her shadow. As if her shadow was an extension of her arm. With it, she touched the cloth of the table, fingered a jewelry stand with earrings raining down, and glimpsed the shell necklace she’d also wanted. But she moved her shadow away from these things.
The rail had an array of clothing. Heavy jackets, silk shirts, and finally, the soft breezy fabric of her dress slipped into her shadow.
She’d been quick. She’d been in control. And then ice shot through her shadow. Caster Mai was reaching into it, as the trapper in the marketplace had done. She felt the wrongness of her shadow being searched and yanked it back with a gasp.
Nadir was already running toward her. Adlai jumped out from her hiding spot and heard Caster Mai yelling something, but it was lost in the wind as they ran and ran and ran.
Further down the hill, they were laughing. Running, breathless and laughing. It was the magic of playing the game.
They finally stopped by a brush of trees that opened out to more greenery. Everywhere was green and alive on the island: it was one big playground, and Adlai wished she could take a small patch of it back to the orphanage.
They sat on the grass. Nadir’s face was sparkling. “Did you get it?” she asked.
Adlai brought her shadow out and pulled the dress from it. The colors dripped in the light and the fabric was as soft as sea foam in her hands.
“Beautiful,” she said. Though Nadir was always wearing pretty dresses. Today was no exception. She had on a dark brown dress, just a shade darker than her own skin, that had orange beads forming flowers over her waist and fallen petals trailing down the skirt.
“Has my mother told you we used to play together as babies?” Nadir asked suddenly.
Adlai shook her head.
“I’ve been around enough of Farrin’s siblings to know that probably meant we stared at each other and maybe pulled off the other’s sock,” she said. “But I know my mother was grateful to yours.”
Adlai started. “To my mother?”
“It’s hard being a single mother. At least that’s what she’s always telling me.”
“Oh,” Adlai said, understanding. “Did a trapper capture your father?”
Nadir’s laugh was all the wrong notes, and her eyes were dead. “No, my father wasn’t killed. He’s probably still alive.”
Adlai couldn’t hide her surprise. Nadir saw it and explained: “He was a sunner.”
“A sinner?”
Nadir shook her head. “Sunner. Sorry, it’s a way of saying suncast. That’s someone without shadow powers. You can’t say shadowless because obviously they still have a shadow, it’s just it only moves by the light.” She shrugged. “He wouldn’t have liked the person I grew up to be anyway. But he’ll never know that, which means he’ll always have regrets about it.” She smiled. “I quite like the idea of him filled with regrets while I stop having them.”
“He chose to leave you?”
It had been Adlai’s fear for so long. That her father had decided to be free of her.
“He was afraid of our powers,” Nadir said after a while. “And he didn’t like some of my . . . choices.” Her eyes flashed up to Adlai. “Farrin thinks I have a crush on you. I don’t,” she added quickly. “But she gets jealous.”
Adlai pieced together what she was saying. Her eyes widened. “She’s your girlfriend?”
Nadir nodded stiffly. Her soft, pretty features took on a hardness as if in preparation for something.
My reaction. She realized Nadir had opened up to her and she was just staring at her as if she’d never heard of such a thing. In truth she had seen a few same-sex couples in Libra, defying the lewd comments and the following stares. She’d always thought they were brave—and she’d always enjoyed stealing from the distracted, judging crowd.
“Well, she seems . . .” Adlai tried to think of something nice to say. Farrin hadn’t exactly been friendly. And was apparently more than a little possessive. “Like a bit of a headache, honestly.”
Nadir laughed. She lay back on the grass and Adlai could see the relief shining out from her.
“She is that. But she loves me, which is more than I can say of my father. He used to tell me I’d end up as one of the experiments in the Arbil pyramid. That I’d pay for my sins that way. Dead, but not dead.”
“What?” Adlai went cold. “What are you talking about? What experiments?”
Nadir shot up and cursed herself. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” She tugged at her braid. “Gods, I’m stupid. I should have stuck with staring at you and trying to steal a sock.”
Adlai didn’t hear her. Her mind ran over the words again.
Experiments. Arbil. Dead, but not dead.
“Why did you mention Arbil?”
That was a hospital. A shining, golden pyramid that people went to for healing.
Nadir shook her head, her gaze darting around for an escape. “You should talk to your uncle.”
Adlai slammed open her uncle’s front door, her breathing heavy as she waited for him to appear.
But the house was dark and quiet. He wasn’t home. Again.
He claimed he left for the protection of the island, or to help with supplies or some other noble thing. Now she wondered if any of that was true. What was her uncle really getting up to when he wasn’t here?
She headed for his study, squinting suspiciously around every inch of it, but it was all so tidy and orderly. Handwritten notes contained day-to-day demands from other casters, scheduled meetings, and planned supply runs.
She crumpled one of the notes in frustration and moved on. Every room was more of the same nothingness.
Except there was one room she hadn’t looked in.
Adlai spun around and went to the door that was next to her uncle’s bedroom.
She bent down; the lock didn’t seem too complex. A hairpin might do for it, she thought, and was moving away when she was startled by the noise of her uncle returning home.
“Adlai?” He called out. He hadn’t seen where she was and she quickly rushed away from the door, out into the hallway.
Luth looked tired, his pale skin so much paler under layers of black clothing, as if he were wrapping himself in shadow. For a moment she felt pity for him, but then she remembered Nadir’s words and it was a twist in the stomach. Her uncle was keeping secrets from her.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Arbil?” she said sharply.
His eyes narrowed. Alert suddenly.
“Who have you been talking to?”
“Does it matter?” she asked. “Are my parents there? Is that where we’re taken if a trapper gets us?” Her breathing was coming out in bursts and she clenched her hands into fists, afraid of the answers he might give.
Her uncle blinked at her questions. He sat on the edge of the woven sofa and his hands coiled around the wooden trellises. “It’s where trappers train. And, yes, it’s where our bodies are taken as well as our shadows.”
“But why?” She drew toward him. Saw the lines on his face become more pronounced. “What do they need with our bodies?”
He shifted in his seat. His eyes flickered momentarily out to the hallway as if he was lost in some thought. When he spoke again, his voice was distant. “When you died, when any of us die, our bodies don’t decay; they heal.”
Her heart raced. She remembered having no wound on her neck after she’d come back to life. That was because of her shadow powers. And both her parents had shadows. Both of them had been taken by trappers.
“My parents . . . does that mean that they’re not . . . that they can come back, like I did?”
“Their souls are in the shadow world, while their bodies and shadows are in Arbil. It is possible that they can return to the living.” He sighed. “My priority is to keep everyone here safe. But my hope is that we’ll one day bring our loved ones home.”
Bring them home. Adlai was speechless.
“I . . . you have a plan for us to get them out of there?”
“And this is why I didn’t tell you before. I didn’t want to give you false hope.” He shook his head. “You couldn’t handle one trapper, Adlai. You understand Arbil will be full of them?”
Shame burned over her skin like a rash. “I’ll work harder,” she said.
He looked at her sadly. “It’s not always about working hard. Some people are just born stronger than others.”
He wasn’t counting on her being like him, she realized. She’d proven herself too weak in classes.
But even if she wasn’t powerful, her uncle was. Caster Fecks had said he was more powerful than anyone had a right to be. So then he would bring her parents back. It was his sister, after all. And she’d met Yaxine in the shadow world. That had to mean his wife was in Arbil as well. His people.
“You said one trapper was as harmless as a bee’s sting,” she said.
He nodded.
“So Arbil is their hive. There must be a way to break it open.”
Her uncle smiled at the thought. “There’s nothing I want more than to tear down their walls, Adlai. If the gods are merciful, they’ll show us the way.”
17
A GOLDEN BRICK GIANT
Adlai didn’t want to rely on the gods; she wanted to get stronger, be a force to reckon with like her uncle. Only when she woke the next morning, the idea of class sent knots through her stomach. Kanwar would best her, Farrin would mock her, and she might hurt someone again.
She was a coward. And the house was too big and empty to stay in by herself. She needed to talk to someone.
Erikys was still living in the same house as Kanwar, the two of them barely speaking to each other, and the old couple who was supposed to take care of them was like many of the couples she’d seen coming to the orphanage. Kind, but better suited to adopting dogs than children.
Adlai knocked on the door and expected either Caster Tove or Caster Lossi to answer.
But Kanwar appeared and tilted his head at her. It was about time to be heading to class. She thought he would have already left but of course she had to be unlucky to catch him just as he was about to leave.
“Not going to class today?” He folded his arms across his chest, barely making it a question.
“Well I’m hardly here to buddy walk with you,” she said.
It was enough that she kept getting partnered up with him during lessons. Today she needed a break from it all.
She thought Kanwar might say something cruel back to her. But he looked behind him, presumably to where he knew Erikys was, and opened the door wider so that when he passed her they didn’t so much as brush shoulders.
With a bit more light she saw Erikys eating breakfast in the kitchen and waved to him. He blinked at her in surprise and came over, still holding half a flatbread with yogurt spread on it.
“Don’t you have class this morning?”
“It’s as optional for me as it is for you,” she said.
He smiled. A morning smile that was loose and easy. His curls were still ruffled from sleep and she realized, belatedly, that he was in his nightclothes, fabric that was a little too sheer in the morning light.
She stepped back.
“Why don’t you finish breakfast, and other stuff, and I’ll wait out here,” she said.
He laughed. “Sure thing, little thief.”
Erikys didn’t make her wait long. He came out in the same green sleeveless top Penna had given him and black shorts. Adlai’s mood had made her reach for a dreary gray wrap top and matching long skirt. All she had for comfort was the little shell Erikys had given her, tucked away in one of the pockets.
“So what’s got you so eager for my company this morning?” he asked.
Instead of answering, Adlai started walking, setting a speed Erikys didn’t attempt to match. With glances back she saw him following her with a bemused expression that only made her walk faster. She wanted to be free of the houses. Free of the community hall, the stalls, the storykeep. Free of the casters and their eyes.
When they reached a tangle of trees, Adlai slowed down and Erikys leaned against the bark of one.
“Are you going to tell me what’s got you in this mood?” he asked.
She turned back. A flock of colorful birds swept into the sky.
“I found out yesterday that Arbil is not just a hospital.” She was sweating from the walk and rubbed her hands against her skirt, finding they were trembling ever so slightly. Then she told him what Nadir had let slip, and what her uncle had confirmed.
“I’m sorry, Adlai,” he said when she was finished. He came next to her and took her hand gently in his. “That’s an awful thing to find out.”
“Don’t be sorry.” She edged away from him. “Don’t you see? My parents are in Arbil. They were so close all along.” The number of times she had looked across the horizon and seen the golden pyramid staring back at her, never suspecting her family was there. “If we get them out, they can wake up, like I did.”
“You want to break them out of Arbil?” Erikys took a step back, his face horrified. “It wouldn’t be like that holding cell we were in. The building itself is the tallest one in all of Libra. A golden brick giant. It’d be like breaking into the palace.”
“They’re my parents.”
Erikys held her gaze. They were an arm’s length away from each other, but in that moment it felt as intimate as touching. Warmth, rather than pity, radiated from him, and she found herself closing the distance. As if it was the most natural thing in the world, she leaned her head against his chest. His arms, uncertain at first, wrapped around her.
“I can’t leave them there. I have to save them.” She sobbed. She hadn’t intended to cry. She hadn’t even known how many tears she’d been holding back, but once she started, she couldn’t stop. They shook from her in wave after wave after wave.
Erikys held on to her, but inside she was falling, her mind racing through thoughts of what her uncle had meant. She had to become powerful.
Even when her tears dried up, she was still shaking. She sat down on the grass, leaning back against a tree and was glad that Erikys stayed close, coming down to sit by her. In silence they stayed that way; shoulder to shoulder, two weights keeping each other steady.
Her body finally calmed, and it wasn’t until then that she trusted herself to speak. “In the desert, you mentioned a brother.” She wiped at her cheeks with her palms. “Wouldn’t you go to Arbil for him?”
Erikys shifted from her. As if he were uncomfortable with the thought.
“Of course I would,” he said quietly. “But I’m supposed to protect him. He’s my baby brother.”
“What’s he like?” She managed a grin. It stretched too wide on her face and she was sure she looked crazy. “Is he better-looking than you?”
Erikys laughed and she was glad, so glad she had someone to laugh with.
“Please. In what world is my baby brother going to be better-looking than me?” He cocked his head to the side, giving her his best angle. She could see the tiny stubble of a beard starting to grow and thought how ridiculous he would look with one. Like a man. But men were responsible and serious, and Erikys was as free as the wind, all boyish curls and charm.
“What’s your brother’s name?”
