Javan nodded. "Good. We can leave immediately, if you're agreeable. Just let me get a few things for the trip." —
Javan either had a great deal of confidence in himself or he shrewdly realized that descending on Akkad with a mob of his partisans would be ill-advised and unproductive. Thus, only four men left Lander's Waste a half hour later: Turek, Merken, Javan, and Polyens.
Turek walked in front, alone. His anger at Merken had cooled, leaving an undefinable ache in its place. Why he had reacted so violently before, he still didn't know, and it both irritated and worried him. After all, there was nothing like a contract between Merken and himself, and he had forgotten to mention in his message that he would probably not be gone more than a day. But logic didn't help, and the hurt remained.
If the others noticed his irritation, they didn't show it. Javan, especially, ignored him, preferring instead to keep up a more or less running conversation with Merken, asking about everything from the jeweler's family to the quality of life in Akkad. From his position ahead of them Turek couldn't help but hear every word, and he listened closely. But if Javan was just trying to swing Merken onto his side, he was doing a superb job of it. Nowhere in voice or questions could Turek detect anything but honest friendliness.
It was late afternoon when they reached Akkad. Merken's wife had clearly been on the lookout for them; she and a small crowd of neighbors were waiting at the shop when the four men arrived. Ignoring the uneasy looks the villagers were giving him, Turek stepped into the middle of the group. "In accordance with the laws and customs of Vesper, I hereby challenge the man Javan to prove his claimed power over Shadow," he announced, keeping his expression and voice neutral. "You are all called upon to be witnesses." Turning, he faced Javan and gestured toward the jewelry shop.
Javan walked forward slowly, stopping at the edge of the Shadow. For a moment he stood quietly, and Turek saw him use what seemed to be a slight modification of the Shadow Warrior afterimage technique. He raised his right hand, open palm just touching the Shadow, and the faint murmuring of the crowd cut off into an expectant silence. Turek watched him closely, every sense alert for whatever trickery he was about to use.
—And suddenly Javan blazed with light!
With a cry, Turek stepped back, instinctively throwing an arm over his face. But it was a useless gesture; the searing glare was in his mind, not his eyes. Desperately, he tried to fight it, to block it the way he'd blocked the thousands of Shadow attacks throughout the years. But for once it didn't work, and there was no time to make it work, for even as his defense cracked before the onslaught he felt himself falling....
And the light vanished into a cool and welcome darkness. —
The darkness lightened only slowly, and seemed somehow mixed with a cool wetness. As if from the bottom of a deep pond, Turek struggled upward and finally came awake.
He opened his eyes. He was lying on the floor of Merken's jewelry shop, his head pillowed on something soft. Beside him knelt Javan, his brow furrowed, wringing out a wet cloth into a small basin. "Never mind that," Turek said hoarsely.
Javan's head came around with obvious surprise. "You're awake," he said, dropping the cloth back into the basin. "How do you feel?"
"What do you care?" Turek glanced around the room, and for the first time noticed the lack of Shadow symptoms. "The Shadow?"
"Destroyed," Javan said. There was no trace of triumph in his voice. "Polyens and some of the others took Merken's device to the edge of town to break it up before the Shadow starts growing back."
Turek looked up at the youth, feeling his whole body sag. "You destroyed it," he said, the words tasting like ashes in his mouth. "You really did it—and with enough power left over to blast me, too."
Javan shook his head, his eyes full of concern. "That wasn't on purpose, Turek, believe me. I don't understand what happened to you. Most people can't see the light at all, much less be bothered by it—even I can just barely detect it. Merken's wife Romneen has gone for a doctor; maybe he can help."
"Never mind him—I'm all right. And it's probably never happened before because you've never had a Shadow Warrior present." Laboriously, Turek got to his feet, brushing off Javan's attempts to help him. "You said it yourself, this morning. Remember? Close contact with Shadows affects your personality." He wavered for a moment, as a brief touch of dizziness came and went. "I expect I've... absorbed... too much of Shadow into myself. However that light of yours burns up Shadow, it hit me, too."
"I'm sorry," Javan said in a low voice. "I had no idea."
"Forget it. It's not going to be a problem for you. Once the word is passed, the rest of the Shadow Warriors will stay out of your way." Turek's cloak and food bag stood on a nearby chair, the latter reminding him he'd skipped lunch and was ravenously hungry. No matter; he could eat once he was out of town. Picking up his things, he headed for the door.
"Where are you going?" Javan asked.
"I'm leaving Akkad, of course." "Why?"
Turek paused to fasten his cloak. "Why not? I'm not needed here anymore."
He started forward again, but with a few quick strides Javan passed him and stood in the doorway. "Master Turek, I don't wish to part as enemies. Won't you please try to understand what I'm trying to do?"
Turek stopped. "I understand completely. You want to clear all the Shadows from Vesper, to free mankind from the drudgery of having to do everything by hand. Why do you think I became a Shadow Warrior?"
"Then you have to realize what this new method means for our people. It's easier to learn, takes much less effort for the same results, and—most important of all—doesn't require that constant penetration of Shadow that you've had to go through. It'll free all of us up that much more, you included. It'll be good for Vesper."
The youth was almost pleading, Turek realized—pleading for Turek's blessing, or at least his acceptance. But the Shadow Warrior remained silent, and after a moment Javan bowed his head slightly and stepped aside.
The sun was low in the sky as Turek set off for the edge of town. It would be night long before he could reach Keilberg, but he didn't care; anything was better than staying in the same village with Javan.
He paused at the top of the first hill to tighten his cloak and his gaze almost magnetically turned back toward Akkad. Already it was too dark to see individuals unless they carried candles, but in his mind's eye he could see Javan and Polyens as they celebrated their victory over Shadow... and over the Shadow Warriors.
Turek smiled humorlessly. Yes, he understood Javan perfectly; that youthful idealism and desire to serve might once have been Turek's own. And the new technique would be beneficial... at least for Vesper as a whole.
But for the Shadow Warriors?
Turek had grappled with Shadow for half his life, had sweated and suffered and gotten sick so that others could maintain their precarious existence on this world. He'd kept at it doggedly, long after the warm glow of youthful enthusiasm had faded, even long after the multitude of Shadow-contacts had begun to poison every facet of his being, until only a dry sense of duty was left to keep him going. A wife, a family, any kind of normal life—all had been impossible for him to have.
He'd given his entire life to battle... but now Javan had proved that the sacrifice hadn't been necessary, that an easier way was possible.
And Turek had wasted his life for nothing.