All the Paths of Shadow

“Good luck, mistress.”

The shadow of the Tower engulfed the last column of seats, and the podium moved into its center.

The king nodded.

Meralda rose.

She raised her Sight. Her shadow moving spells hung ready, shimmering in the dark, gossamer tangles of cobwebs moving in a gentle wind. Meralda could see the black masses of Nameless and Faceless flitting to and fro amid them.

Meralda spoke the word of unbinding, and the tangle of spells stretched and pulled and took shape.

The crowd gasped. Applause broke out, grew, became a thunder that drowned out the voices from the park.

Meralda opened her eyes.

The Tower’s shadow was gone, pierced through its heart with the bright light of day.

Donchen’s eyes met hers. His smile was warm and wide.

“You did it,” he mouthed. “Mage Meralda.”

Meralda smiled back, and the crowd stood and kept applauding.

“The tethers,” shouted Mug. “Beginning to tear. It’s now or never, Meralda.” He said something else, but his words were lost in the roar of applause. “…I love you, you know that.”

“I love you too, Mug,” said Meralda.

As the king took the podium, Meralda called the staves to her, and spoke the words that woke her tethers.

“Welcome to Tirlin,” shouted the king.

Meralda watched the curseworks whirl.

One by one, she watched the ancient tethers fail.

The new spells took hold. The curseworks wobbled.

Wobbled, but did not fall. Before the king was done speaking, they stabilized, soaring above an unknowing Tirlin as smooth and sure as kites on a string.

“Mistress,” piped Mug, from her bag. “Mistress. Tower says the you-know-whats are showing no significant signs of instability. I think that’s his way of saying you’ve saved the Realms.” Meralda heard Tower speak in the background. “You’ve done it, mistress. The tethers are holding. Better than the old ones, according to Tower. Throw yourself a parade. It’s done.”

Meralda let go her staves. They took to the air, darting and wheeling and chasing and gone.

“Welcome to Tirlin,” said the king again, in closing. “We look forward to a bright future together.”

Meralda put her face in her hands and cried.

The stands emptied slowly. Meralda waved her guards away, though the Bellringers remained close by her side until she ordered them to go and eat supper and then go home.

The park, too, slowly disgorged its crowds, leaving nothing but handbills and sandwich wrappers and bright bits of trampled ribbons behind, being scattered by the wind. A small army of trash-men, burlap bags hanging empty at their waists, set about spearing litter with pointed sticks and placing it in their bags.

A child with a familiar kite ran among them, and this time his kite soared skyward with no hint of hesitation.

I can’t even stand up, thought Meralda. I’ve never been so exhausted in all my life.

A shadow fell upon her, and she looked up to find Donchen at her side.

He sat, his hands in his lap, his eyes on the darkening sky behind the Tower.

“Quite a long day,” he said. “Especially for you, I gather. Trouble at the last moment?”

Meralda nodded. “Nam. Went after the tethers. Nearly killed us all.”

Donchen nodded. “But here we are. Thanks to you, I assume.”

Meralda remembered that awful moment when Fromarch loosed the latch. “I’d rather not speak of it.”

“Then we shall not. Ever, if you wish it.”

The child’s bat-winged kite darted and swooped Donchen waved to the child, who waved back and shouted a greeting lost in the breeze and the distance.

“There is still much unresolved,” said Donchen. “I regret I have been unable to learn the identity of the man who used hidden spells to gain entrance to your king.”

Meralda shrugged. That seems so long ago, she thought.

“What was the point of all this, anyway?” she asked, after a long moment watching the Tower’s shadow reform.

“The Accords?”

“No. The Vonats. Those among your people who worked with them. The spells in the Gold Room. All of it. Why?”

Donchen sighed. “Politics, for the most part, I suppose. My people are staunch traditionalists. This new partnership with the Realms is upsetting to some of those in power.”

“I’ve noticed something, Donchen.”

Donchen smiled. “And what is that, Meralda?”

“You’re very careful with your words. You said ‘for the most part.’ Which implies there’s something more.”

“Does it really?”

“It does. Is now the time you stop being forthcoming?”

Donchen shook his head. “All I have are suspicions. Suspicions, rumor, and scraps of legend. None of it makes sense, even to me. But I tell you the truth, Mage Meralda. When we’re both rested, we’ll have a nice meal of sweet and sour pork and then we’ll find a comfortable couch and I’ll tell you all of it, rumor and legend alike.”

“Fair enough.” Meralda brushed back her hair. “You’ll be leaving soon, won’t you? Going home, I mean. Back across the Sea.”

Donchen shrugged. “One day. But not soon. Perhaps not ever. Politics are involved, I’m afraid. One of the reasons I’ve spent so much time here in the Realms.”

“Fromarch and Shingvere hinted at some dark secret concerning you,” said Meralda. “Please don’t tell me you’re heir to the throne.”

Donchen laughed. “Hardly. Well, only in the most oblique manner possible.”

Meralda turned to face him. “What?”

“I am the second son of the second son of a House that once rivaled Chentze,” he said. “Que-long is childless. The shuffle for power has already begun.” He shrugged. “I want no part of it.”

“Your status as ghost?”

“All of us in line for the throne share it,” he said. “It is meant to protect us from assassination. And perhaps to teach us self-reliance. In any case, my ghosthood expires next year. If I am in Hang when it expires, my own very personal expiration is likely close behind.”

“So you’re a prince?”

“In a manner of speaking. But a most reluctant one. I prefer the kitchen to the throne room. Would you be able to keep company with a humble chef, I wonder?”

Some last vestige of the shadow moving spell careened past and engulfed Meralda and Donchen in a brief, warm burst of light.

Meralda moved closer, turned Donchen’s face toward hers, and drew him into a kiss.

He took her hands in his.

The light failed. The Bellringers grinned and elbowed each other and turned suddenly away.

“Welcome to Tirlin,” said Meralda. “Let’s stay and watch the sunset.”