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Well, she thought, she had decided to try and ride this particular dragon. Now she would just have to make sure she could stay in the saddle as it bucked.

Chapter Eighteen

“This is not been quite the welcome I was hoping for,” said Tamara, looking up at Rik. He had entered the chamber silently and stood looking at her from the doorway. It was a busy night. Inquisitor Joran had just left.

“Did you really expect Asea to greet you with open arms?”

“A little more sympathy and a little less I told you so would be appreciated.”

“Given what Asea knows about your father I think she’s doing rather well by you.”

“You are not the one weighed down by truesilver chains.”

“There is that.”

“It’s nice to see that you are still so open-minded.”

“I came to see if you wanted anything.”

“A key to these fetters would be appreciated.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have one. You are lucky — I heard Karim suggesting they should be welded shut. He fears you might be able to pick the lock.”

“If I had a mirror, a lock-pick and prehensile toes he would be right. Sadly I don’t.”

“Is there anything else I can get you besides a lock-pick?”

“You can tell me what you want. I know there is a reason you came here. Charity is not your style. Did Asea send you?”

“No. I came of my own accord.”

“Well, it’s nice of you to come and pass the time. Now ask me whatever it is you want to know?”

“What did you tell Joran?”

“As little as I could. But I suspect you are asking about whether I mentioned your connection with my father.”

“That is perceptive of you.”

Tamara shook her head, realising that she had found a lever that might help her in this situation. She possessed knowledge that might be useful to pressure Rik. She could threaten to reveal his secret to the Inquisitor. Of course, it would have to be done carefully. The simplest solution to that threat would be to have her killed.

“Can you really teach me how to walk through shadows, change my appearance and all that?”

“I can try. I have never actually taught anyone before. All I can do is teach you the way my father taught me.”

“Asea thinks it might be a trap, a way to corrupt me.”

“You are quite corrupt enough without my help.”

“That’s what I told her.”

“You have the gift of self-awareness.”

“One of my many talents. How would you teach me?”

“I would start with the basics and work my way up?”

“What are the basics?”

“I think you already understand some of them. You could sense when I was going to arrive when shadow walking, couldn’t you?”

“I think so.”

“That means you have the gift. I imagine Asea has taught you basic exercises for sorcery as well.”

Rik nodded.

“Excellent. Your feet are already well set upon the path then.”

“What am I supposed to do now?”

“Fix your eyes on the nearest shadow.”

“Done.”

“Now concentrate on it. What does it look like?”

“It’s your shadow, seen from the side.” The shadow shifted as Tamara turned to look at it. “Focus on it really hard. Fix every detail in your mind. Now close your eyes and picture it exactly as it was.”

A look of concentration passed across his face as he did so. “Now what?” he asked.

“Just hold it in your mind. Try and picture it as clearly as you can. As clearly as if you were seeing it.”

“Right.”

“Now open your eyes.”

His eyes snapped open. “Is it the same as you visualised?”

“Maybe.”

“What do you mean maybe?”

“It’s not perfect. Maybe because you have moved your head.”

“Or maybe because your ability to visualise is far from perfect.”

“What am I supposed to do now?”

“Try again, and keep trying again until you can get it right.”

“You’re kidding me?”

“If Asea has been teaching you sorcery you must have done this sort of thing before. From repetition comes mastery.”

“That is certainly something I have heard before.”

“And you’ll certainly hear it again, because it’s a basic truth of all magic and all learning.”

“Now you do sound like Asea.”

“I don’t take that as a compliment.”

“Somehow I thought that would be the case.”

“When you can visualise the shadows around you perfectly, see them as they are, without opening your eyes you will have walked aways along our path.”

“I trust you had an enlightening chat with your half-sister?” Asea said when he entered the chambers in the old farmhouse that they shared.

“She has begun to explain to me how a shadow walking works.”

“Describe the technique.” Rik did so. When he finished Asea nodded and said, “It sounds like it should work. She is preparing you to begin manipulating shadow at the most basic level unless I miss my guess.”

“Could you do this? Could you learn what she is teaching?”

“I could do this elementary exercises but I am sure that she will soon teach more complicated things, and the ability to work those is in the blood, passed from parent to child. My talents do not run in that direction.”

“Is it dangerous- what she is teaching me?”

“All knowledge is dangerous in the wrong hands, Rik. Be very careful of what she tells you. A teacher can place all manner of traps in her spells to ensnare the unwary apprentice.”

Rik smiled at her. “The same could be said of you.”

“I am sure it is, Rik. But this is deadly serious. I have no reason to want you dead. What will you do if Tamara teaches you the way into the Shadow paths but the way she gives you to exit them fails to work?”

It was a good question and one to which he had no easy answer. It rather took away his pleasure in learning a new form of sorcery.

“By the way, you had better get dressed in your best. We have been invited to dine with my brother this evening.”

Wonderful, Rik thought. What could the General possibly want with him?

Rik felt out of his depth in the tent of the inhuman General, Lord Azaar. A floating chandelier illuminated the sumptuously furnished space with magical light. Spells of silence deadened the noise from the army camped around them. The shadowy outlines of servants and sentries loomed through the water-repellent spidersilk. It was the night before battle and all of the staff officers had been at dinner and gone. Neither Asea nor her brother could sleep. He had no idea why he had been asked to stay on. The voices whispered to him to be careful.

On one side of a rune-inlaid table sat Lady Asea, tall, stately and beautiful as a painter’s dream. On the other side of the table, his features concealed by a silver face mask, his rotten stench not quite concealed by the heavy musk wafting from his neck-hung pomander, lounged Azaar, Lord of Battles, Commander of the armies of the West.

On the table between them was a chessboard. As far as Rik could tell the two were equally matched, but their play was far beyond his understanding so his opinion on the subject was worthless.

Asea finished her contemplation and raised her queen moving it to a position that threatened the General’s left flank. Azaar nodded and moved a bishop immediately in response. It was evidently a move he had anticipated.

“I don’t like it,” he said. His voice was clear and rasping, his accents those of one used to being listened to respectfully and obeyed instantly. “These damned winds have blown plague out of the East all winter. The dead stir in their graves. The living fall sick and die faster than we can burn them. My scouts report that we will encounter the Eastern army tomorrow and it is much larger than I expected. I would have considered retreating before it but it's moving faster than we are and anyway I have my damned orders to advance East and engage the enemy.”