Chapter Sixteen #2
Another dimension? The words shrieked in Shadach’s mind. Aoife was in another dimension?
“She wanted to go.” Tara’s innocence was as genuine as the “good luck charms” slum dwellers sold to tourists. “How was I to stop her?”
“You strap her to a bloody chair if you have to!” Tafana snapped. Then, her eyes became shrewd, finally seeing what Shadach had seen. “And she just walked through those Gates all by herself? With no help from you?”
Tara pressed her hand to her chest, feigning offence. “Of course not! She wanted to go home. That was all.”
A Shadow leeched off Tara’s body. It didn’t make a sound.
A half-truth. Shadach swore to himself. If he confessed to seeing the Shadow, they would know he could see Shadows.
But what he really wanted was to read that Shadow.
To know what Tara didn’t want him to know.
But if he read it now, they might see the Shadow disappear and know that he wasn’t what he seemed.
Shadach didn’t know if non-Halcin, or even if Halcin, could see the Shadows disappearing. Now was not the time to find out.
Thankfully, Tafana didn’t need Halcin eyes to know Tara was a liar.
“You are a traitor to the God,” Tafana said.
“No,” Tara hissed. “I am one of the only true believers here. The God knows that, even if you are too blind.”
Tafana shook her head, something like grief in her eyes. “You will be dealt with later.”
“Where is Aoife?” Shadach’s voice nearly shook.
“Gone,” Tara smiled. “And she’s never coming back.”
~*~
The night sky thundered with the light of a thousand torches as a hundred priestesses scoured the woods outside the temple in search of Aoife.
Shadach stopped, leaning against a tree, out of breath from screaming Aoife’s name one too many times.
A chilled heaviness settled in his chest. He pushed off the tree and kept searching.
They’d been searching for hours with no sign of Aoife.
She could have been anywhere. Or nowhere.
Shadach slumped against a boulder. He knew what Tara had said: she was never coming back.
She had walked through some mysterious Gates and could have been anywhere in the world.
Or beyond it. But Shadach couldn’t let himself believe she was that far.
Some part of him, perhaps a foolish part, believed she was still here.
Believed she was still close. That was why he couldn’t stop searching the forest. Perhaps he was just being stubborn.
Or, perhaps, it was the God telling him to not give up.
Perhaps the God was telling him he would see Aoife again and that Tara would not win.
But the worry that Shadach was wrong, that he was holding onto blind hope, had become an icy thickness in his lungs that made it hard to breathe.
When would Shadach find her? And where was she?
Even if his instincts were right, even if she was close …
how close was close? The forest stretched on for what felt like eternity.
Shadach glanced into the darkness of the night.
There were no priestesses close by. Maybe, perhaps, that lie Tara had told could help him find Aoife’s location.
The lie about doing nothing to have helped Aoife through the Gates.
Shadach closed his eyes and reached into the Shadows with his mind.
He searched, picking through them, trying to find the right Shadow.
With his thoughts, he called to it. Demanding it sacrifice itself to him.
The Shadow came to him, dejected and defeated, as if it had no strength to fight its fate.
That, or it knew resistance was pointless.
Shadach reached into the Shadow with his hand, words and images flashing through his mind.
Aoife. Tara. The princess of the Kingdom of Tears. Shadach’s jaw clenched as Aoife and Tara’s conversation played like moving pictures in his head. Tara telling Aoife Shadach was obligated to marry a princess. Aoife’s pain. The devastation and defeat in her eyes.
Shadach’s blood raged. It wasn’t true. None of it was true. Not the least of which because Princess Yala favoured women and not men. Aoife hadn’t known that. She’d believed Tara, believed Shadach was playing with her until a better offer came along.
The Shadow wriggled into nothingness once it gave up its secrets.
Shadach sprinted off the boulder, ripping apart the forest anew in search of Aoife.
How could he have been so foolish? There he’d been, thinking Aoife had been using him, betraying him, when all the while she’d been tricked into believing he’d been using her.
In truth, Shadach hadn’t thought about what came after all of this, about what would happen between him and Aoife.
He hadn’t been contemplating if they had a future, because he couldn’t see himself getting out of this alive.
But maybe she had been thinking of the future. What if that future had included him? Them? Together?
“Emperor.” Tafana seemed to appear out of nowhere. Out of breath, she gripped his arm. Shadach felt a moment of panic. Had she seen him read the Shadow?
“Please,” she said, “you shouldn’t be out here.”
Shadach studied her eyes, seeing no hint that she’d seen what he’d done to the Shadow.
“Where else should I be?” Shadach shook Tafana off him.
“The temple. Aristen’s men could find you out here.”
“I’ll go to the temple when we find Aoife.”
“We’ve been searching for hours. Tara said she walked through the Gates. She’s gone.” There was sorrow, defeat in the Head Priestess’ eyes.
“I don’t believe her.” Shadach’s voice hurt. “Aoife can’t be gone.”
“It doesn’t matter if you believe it, Emperor,” Tafana said. “It’s true. And I don’t like it either, but … she’s likely safe, isn’t she? That’s what you wanted for her.”
“What’s your point?” Shadach needed to be back out there. Looking. Not standing here having pointless conversations.
“It’s no secret you are an unwilling participant in the God’s plans.”
The words were ice water on Shadach’s skin. He turned to her.
“Maybe the God is giving you what you want.” Tafana’s eyes were gentle, her voice soft. “Maybe he took Aoife away so she would be safe. Without her here to testify that you are the God’s chosen, Aristen has no reason to kill you. Which means you might be safe, too.”
Shadach stood. Motionless. Her words were meant to be a balm, but all he felt was searing pain.
She was not wrong. This was possibly the best outcome for everyone.
Aoife was gone, safe, somewhere else. Shadach would be able to disappear, no longer a threat.
Aristen would be free to claim the throne through lies and bribery.
It would all be wrapped up nice and neat, except—
“The God can’t be giving me what I want,” Shadach said.
“Why, do you think you don’t deserve it?” Tafana said.
“It’s not that.” Shadach’s laugh was whisper. “This isn’t what I want. Which means the God can’t be giving me what I want.”
He didn’t want Aoife gone. He didn’t want her thinking he’d lied to her. Used her. He didn’t know what exactly they were to each other, but he knew they were more than that.
“Then maybe he’s giving you what you need,” Tafana said.
“With all due respect,” Shadach said, “if the God cared about what I wanted or needed he wouldn’t have picked my name from the Book.
But he did. This isn’t the God’s doing.” Shadach turned from Tafana as a faint, amused voice in his head whispered: finally, you admit I chose you.
I do not make mistakes. Shadach would have to think on the weight of what he had admitted to Tafana.
Not now. Now, there were more important matters.
“Where are you going?” Tafana said, pleading in her voice.
“To look for Aoife,” Shadach called over his shoulder as he disappeared into the darkness.
She wasn’t gone.
She couldn’t be.