Some of the cold, echoing vaults were storerooms, and others, merely empty. Noting the lack of dungeons, Dai Shan wondered what Mangan Uruk did with captured outlaws and other prisoners who fell into his hands. Maybe, like the barbarian he was, Mandan slaughtered them on the spot, without even considering the potential advantages of keeping them alive.
If so, then Dai Shan definitely wanted to avoid discovery. He wanted to find what Falconer claimed was here for the finding and return to his quarters and his bed before anybody missed him.
Before long, he left kegs, crates, sacks, and the dim, wavering glow of the occasional oil lamp behind. In order to investigate the chambers beyond the uttermost reach of the light, he would require one of his arcane talents, the ability to see in darkness.
The chambers appeared, despite what Falconer had said, to be empty of anything but dust and spider webs. Dai Shan felt a twinge of impatience. He took a breath and exhaled it. He reminded himself to search calmly and methodically, and, whatever he discovered, to devise a way to turn it to his advantage.
Yet, when at last he came to something promising, he nearly passed it by. Someone had done a good job of sealing the archway with blocks of sandstone to match the ones that made up the surrounding wall. Still, there was a subtle variation in the color and an interruption in the regular spacing of the mortared cracks.
Dai Shan placed his hands against the obstruction and gave it an experimental shove. It felt quite solid, which was unfortunate. He had the tools, mundane and otherwise, to open almost any door, but passing through a wall was more challenging.
Although such a feat was possible, of course. He opened one of the concealed pouches contained in his belt, took out a bit of glowing quartz, and set it on the floor. To exploit his power over shadows, he first needed to create one, namely, his own.
The light from the quartz splashed his shadow across the floor and up the wall. He focused his will and said, Wake. The shadow sprang away from where it lay.
As it did so, Dai Shan felt a jab of pain behind his solar plexus. Evidently, he d been overexerting that particular talent. But it wasn t easy keeping tabs on everyone and everything of potential interest in Rashemen all by himself.
And at any rate, all was well. His heart was still beating, and he hadn t reduced himself to one of the mad, maimed wretches called the Shadowless. Go through, he said. You know what I m looking for.
The shadow ran its hands over the stonework, plugging the arch. Its fingers occasionally seemed to snag on the blocks and mortared cracks, stretch, and then snap back to a more normal length when they pulled free.
Dai Shan knew that the entity was seeking some tiny hole or fissure that extended all the way through. Writhing through a gap would make the barrier easier to penetrate.
It didn t find one, but fortunately for an agent that lacked physicality in the truest sense, an opening was merely a convenience, not a necessity. The shadow drew back a pace, then lunged at the obstruction.
Dai Shan felt a stunning jolt, as if he d thrown himself headlong at a solid barrier. The shadow vanished. Apparently some long-dead hathran had cast a ward on the wall to prevent such entities from passing through.
Dai Shan examined his face by touch. Despite the throbbing, his nose was not broken, nor did he find any scrapes or cuts. The impact had only occurred in his mind. He d suspected as much, but it made sense to be sure.
Dai Shan could only think of one other way to get through the barrier, and it required a certain amount of risk. Was his particular ploy truly that important? Couldn t he simply tell Falconer that he d been unable to access the proper part of the cellars? By the Black Moon, it would even be the truth.
And perhaps everything would work out thereafter. But once Dai Shan set his mind to a task, he preferred to accomplish it, in part because of a conviction that success bred further success, and failure, only failure. And the thought of failing in Rashemen and returning home without the griffons, of his father s gibes and sneers, of being consigned to trivial matters while his brothers swaggered like princes and steered the destiny of the House, was insupportable.
When the affair is over, he thought, I ll keep the blue-eyed griffon for myself. That will be my reward for daring what I m about to do.
He took another look at the hidden arch. It was fairly wide. He estimated that four smallish men like himself could stand shoulder to shoulder in front of it.
He turned to the shadow he was again casting. Wake, he said.
The pain in his chest lasted longer, as if some tormentor were taking his time sliding in a knife. But he endured it, and the shadow leaped up.
As soon as it did, another lay in its place, as was the way of shadows. Dai Shan animated that one, too, and had to grit his teeth to hold in a cry. Regrettably, he couldn t do anything to restrain the tears that ran down his cheeks.
Blinking, he regarded the two living shadows awaiting his command. A voice inside his head whispered that surely two were enough.
But that was the voice of fear, and a Shou gentleman couldn t heed it. Dai Shan had decided that three minions would maximize his chances of success, and three it would be. Wake, he said.
He d expected the final act of creation to be the most agonizing of all, and probably it was. But when he woke sprawled on the floor, he couldn t truly remember it, or passing out, either, although he felt like a gong shivering its way to silence a moment after the beater s stroke.
He tried to lift his hand and found that he could. The crystal s glow made the extremity s gray, flat counterpart slide up the wall.
I m still alive, Dai Shan thought, and still myself. A wild laugh tried to bubble up from the center of him, and he smothered it as dignity required.
He resolved that however urgent the need, he wouldn t bring any more shadows to life for a tenday. Happily, that ability was only one of his strengths. He possessed many others, including the physical vitality that returned to him quickly.
He stood up and said, Change.
The shadows did, instantly, and suddenly it was like peering into three mirrors, except that each of the reflections stood in a different attitude, none of them precisely matching their creator s stance. Their thoughts and perceptions stabbed into his own, overlaying his awareness with jumble and cacophony, and he exerted his will to block them out. He didn t want to live through any of them as he d lived through the agent that first made contact with Falconer. Rather, he wanted to multiply his innate abilities by four.
When the intrusions had faded, and his mind had cleared, he stepped up to the barrier and put his hands on it. His counterparts did the same. Then they all began to shove.
The wall stood as solid as a mountainside.
With his jaw clenched and sweat sliding down his face, Dai Shan shoved harder. He focused on the action until he became it. Until he no longer remembered why he d undertaken it, nor cared about its success or failure. All that mattered was its perfect articulation.
The surface under his palms shivered, then shifted. With a scraping, banging clatter, a tier of stones fell inward.
With their purpose accomplished, Dai Shan s shadows withered from existence in quick succession. Their creator listened for any indication that the sound of the breach had attracted attention. Except for the thump of his own heartbeat in his ears, the cellars were silent.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Plucking a silk handkerchief from his sleeve, he used it to dab first the sweat from his face and neck and then the drops of blood from the scrapes on his palms. Then he picked up the crystal and climbed through the hole.