‘The war-’

  Asmara shook her head. ‘You’re a child, Muresh. You shouldn’t have been- to force you to manifest,’ anger entered her voice, ‘you might never have manifested! You might have been normal! Even if you weren’t normal, you should only be starting to use your shadow magic now, not when you were...’

  ‘I can’t remember not using it.’ he said. ‘Five maybe... earlier.’

  ‘Too young, Muresh! Please, go look inside your Gramma. You have to try and stop.’

  Muresh absorbed that quietly. He was unaware of the cold in his tiny room. He had forgotten to put his winter jacket on.

  ‘I probably can’t.’ he said. ‘Not anymore.’

  ‘You have to try. Stop helping the people who did this to you.’

  ‘Lakasha is my country...’ he said, though the words lacked emotion. The idea of ‘country’ didn’t mean much to him. He cared about people, the people near him, not land. He thought of the people he had hurt.

  ‘Then go... go talk to Blaise, or Guy or Linette. If they stop too will you try, please, at least try?’

  ‘Blaise is gone, I think.’

  Asmara stared at him. Then she slowly put her head in her hands. He heard her crying softly.

  He watched, desperately uncomfortable. He’d never wanted to hurt anyone, whatever happened now... he didn’t want to hurt anymore people. He thought of Gramma. He didn’t want to know... he’d looked inside Asmara. He didn’t want her beliefs about his Gramma to be true...

  ‘Please, Muresh.’ She said, looking up. Her eyes were wet. ‘B-Blaise is gone. But you’re still here, your friends are still here... help them stop, Muresh.’

  His friends. His friends who were always leaving. Not all though, there were still some left...

  He nodded, feeling sick. And then he fell back on the bed.

  Asmara watched over Muresh’s body. He was so young. Younger even than Blaise. She wiped at her eyes. About an hour later rapid knocking sounded at the door. Asmara stood just as the old lady, Muresh’s Gramma, entered, a wild look in her eyes.

  ‘Muresh!’

  ‘Get out!’ Asmara snarled in Lakashan, wishing she had her weapons with her, wishing she was in the right physical state to use them. She didn’t know much Lakashan, but as she spoke, driven by anger, the words came to her. She’d only met one Lakashan, but that was enough. ‘Go away, you monster!’

  The old lady was taken aback. ‘Who are you? Why did Muresh let you come here?’

  Asmara advanced and the old lady took a startled step back. ‘I’ll fetch the guards!’

  ‘It doesn’t matter, not if Muresh decides to try and stop using his shadow magic. If you really cared you’d be happy, you’d help him!’

  A pained expression flashed across her face, ‘my kingdom needs me, needs him!’

  ‘No kingdom that needs to send ten year olds to war deserves to exist! Get out!’

  ‘Mance-Jolune is attacking us! I looked after Muresh, he-’

  ‘Don’t tell me, I don’t want to hear your excuses! He looked inside you, he knows exactly how you feel! The Manunian shadow mages are stepping away from the war effort. If these children stop you’ll still be on equal footing. Whatever excuses you think you had are no longer valid!’

  ‘The... how do you know the Manunian shadow mages?’

  Asmara pushed the old lady out of the doorway. She squawked in surprise and Asmara shut the door firmly behind her. She’ll probably go get the guards. She glanced back at Muresh uneasily. I wonder what he’s doing now... That old woman is all he has, maybe...

  She wondered if she’d made things worse for him. She covered her eyes with her hands again. There are others here. I have to help the others too...

  Not yet though, she’d wait a bit longer for Muresh to return...

  Laskashan, I’m speaking Lakashan. Five times now! It was only three in twenty years only three times and now in six months I’ve used it twice! Cold fear twisted her insides, her eyes burned. The end was coming. Her new-found linguistic ability gave her no pleasure.

  Several minutes passed before Asmara heard rapid knocking on the door again. She didn’t bother opening it. The door shook as something heavy slammed into it from the other side. There was no exit from this room aside from the door. The window was far too small, even if she could break it. Calm dread settled over her. There was nothing she could do. She went and sat in the chair to wait with Muresh. The door shivered again, and then with a third slam burst open. Armed guards burst into the room, the old lady behind them, watching.

  The men advanced on Asmara, ‘you’re coming with us!’ they declared. The Lakashan words came to her slowly, and she struggled to understand. She didn’t really understand Lakashan, she was just using Muresh’s memories of the language.

  Thoughts flickered through her mind, I’ve spent so long trying to survive and now, here, in Lakasha... I could use my shadow magic... but how would I cross the desert in that state, and they have candles...she thought briefly of her friends, Bo, Julietta and... Dorian.

  ‘Stop.’ a weak voice cried. Stronger, the voice said, ‘Azana, make them stop.’

  ‘Muresh?’ the old lady said. She pushed through the soldiers to Muresh’s bed. She waved a hand at them, telling them to stand down. ‘Muresh!’

  ‘Azana,’ Muresh said, sitting up, ‘let Asmara go.’

  ‘You’ve never called me that before, dear, why-’

  ‘You helped them do something terrible to me.’ his face was severe, ‘but I know you don’t hate me,’

  ‘No, my dear!’

  ‘You even seem to think you care about me, so do this one thing for me, as you’ve never done anything for me before.’

  ‘Muresh, I-!’

  ‘Azana,’ he said firmly, ‘let my friend go.’

  She hesitated, her face a mask of fear and guilt. Slowly, ever so slowly, she turned to the guards. ‘Go. The shadow mage has been practicing. I see he is safe, I don’t need you anymore. Go!’

  The men, accustomed to the strange behaviour of their charges, obeyed. Soon the hallway was empty except for Azana.

  ‘Go, Asmara.’ Muresh said. ‘Go back home. They’ll probably chase you after... Azana, I want you to let her get across the desert.’

  ‘Why would we chase her, if you ask us not too, dear?’ Unsaid was, as long as he kept using his shadow magic. ‘Is she someone important?’

  Muresh shook his head. ‘Not to the war, not really.’

  Asmara didn’t stop to ask, ‘after what’, and quickly slipped out of the room. She didn’t hear what else was said.

  Muresh watched Asmara disappear with a heavy heart. She was right, and wrong too, and it hurt so much. Muresh sighed and settled back onto the bed.

  ‘Dear, what are you doing now?’ asked the woman who had been his Gramma, who had been in charge of making him use his shadow magic.

  ‘Resting.’

  ‘Perhaps that’s a good idea. You might feel better after a sleep.’

  Muresh shook his head. He didn’t think so. We’re trapped here, with the guards and candles, and the desert all around... he thought of his body, weak, even for a young boy, how could we ever leave? Where would we go? How would we survive? He thought of his friends, and briefly of the enemy shadow mages. They weren’t happy either, using their magic to hurt others. It will be nice to stop. At least, I won’t have to hurt anyone anymore...

  CHAPTER 88

  9 Jorlaff, 1353

  Almost two weeks. Jacques thought, based on the meals. There was no natural light down in the dungeons to judge day and night by. I wonder what’s happening outside? Not knowing was nearly killing him. What on earth was Guy up to? The King had honoured them with his presence twice since the first visit. Guy awoke, every now and then, but by the time someone rushed to get a candle (there were so few of them they couldn’t watch him every hour of every day), he was gone again. He’s never done that before... Jacques wondered if Guy was dying. He preferred to hope he was up to something. There’d only be Linette left... if she’s managed to stay away from the Lakashan assassins...

  At the sounds of movement Jacques looked up. It wasn’t time for their meal. Would it be a visitor, with some tantalizing tidbits of news, or a guard with another prisoner, or something equally mundane?

  He peered between the bars of his cell and caught a glimpse of golden hair and heard the sound of something scraping along the stone floor. Curiosity flared as Prince Silvain limped into view, leaning heavily on a cane. He was escorted by a sorcerer and three guardsmen.

  ‘I did not believe it.’ the prince said softly as he stood before his brother’s cell. ‘Father really put you down here...’

  Jaques saw Alexandre stir and walk upright towards the bars. The prince had talked little since their imprisonment, brooding quietly in his cell. Jacques wondered how the prince would survive this treatment, so completely removed from everything he should have expected.

  ‘It is true.’ Alexandre replied, his voice strong, his grey eyes flashing. Jacques was pleased to see such a display of strength from him, despite his ragged and dirty clothes, his gaunt, unshaven face.

  Silvain was quiet as he digested this. Jacques eyed his heavy red coat enviously. He was so cold.

  His voice trembling he said, ‘is it... is it true?’

  ‘Is what true, Silvain?’

  ‘You and I used to be so close, brother, when we were younger.’

  ‘Years ago.’

  ‘Things have not been so bad between us, even though we do not play as when we were children.’

  Alexandre put a hand against the bars. It was a casual movement but Jacques feared what it meant for the prince’s health.

  ‘Did you try and have me... did you try and hurt me, br-brother?’

  ‘King Theuder thinks so. You can see from my present condition how strongly he believes that.’ Alexandre said, his voice strong even though he was leaning against the bars to hold himself up.

  ‘Alexandre, did you try and hurt me?’ Silvain yelled hotly. ‘Tell me now!’

  ‘I did not.’ Alexandre replied, his voice sombre. ‘But the shadow mage... he has not returned, to look in me-’

  ‘It doesn’t matter! I do not believe it!’

  ‘You don’t believe me, Sil-’

  ‘No! I do not believe you would hurt me. I will not believe it!’

  Alexandre let out a sigh. Jacques saw a tentative smile curve his lips. ‘That... that is something...’

  ‘I will tell Father, Alexandre, this treatment! How long have you been down here?’

  ‘I believe... twelve days.’

  ‘Twelve?! How could he?’

  ‘Your assessment of his personality concerns me, Brother, if you cannot properly judge Theuder how can you judge me?’

  ‘Why do you refer to him so?’ Silvain said, stubbornly refusing to respond to Alexandre’s accusation. ‘Last I was here you called him Father.’

  ‘And since then I have spent nearly two weeks in a dungeon. Besides, the King has made his opinion on that matter abundantly clear.’

  Silvain fell silent.

  ‘Brother,’ Alexandre’s voice was quiet but intense, ‘I am as certain as I can be that you and I are both Theuder’s sons. And if not, I am still Queen Solange’s eldest son. The crown is rightfully mine, Silvain. If you try and take it from me, we will fight. Is that clear, Brother?’

  Silvain’s blue eyes were wide as he slowly nodded.

  Alexandre nodded firmly. He broke the tense silence by saying, ‘have you any news on Guy Marcoux?’

  ‘The shadow mage?’ Silvain frowned. ‘Father is very angry with him, he wakes sometimes, and tells the servants nonsense, and falls asleep again.’

  ‘He is not asleep, and I doubt is he talking nonsense.’ Alexandre’s voice was tense. ‘What has he said, brother? Word for word?’

  Silvain shook his head and frowned. ‘I... I’m not sure. They haven’t told me.’

  Alexandre rubbed at his eyes. ‘Silvain, have my man, Jacques Dulère released, if you can. He has experience talking with the shadow mages.’

  ‘What about you, Alexandre?’

  Alexandre shook his head. ‘I doubt Theuder will release me if you ask, he will have to be forced.’

  ‘Brother! Can I at least get you anything? You look cold.’

  ‘No. There are nicer dungeons than this in Manus. This is what he wants, Silvain. Ask for nothing for me.’

  ‘Then take my coat at least.’

  ‘No, Silvain. I don’t want to argue.’

  The prince was halfway through taking off his jacket. He stopped reluctantly.

  ‘Listen. The shadow mage can prove my innocence, and while there is a war on we must have their cooperation. We need to know what he’s up to. Do what I ask, Silvain. Have you heard any more from Duke Dashiell?’

  Silvain shook his head. ‘I have been ill. There’s some problem with the pass. I don’t understand why they don’t have the sorcerers fix it.’

  ‘I imagine the duke has his own sorcerers.’

  ‘Alexandre! Dashiell would never! He is father’s most loyal supporter and friend!’

  ‘Has father apologised?’

  ‘It is not a King’s place to apologise.’

  ‘Well if a King does not want to apologise he should not piss off his closest friends and supporters.’

  ‘Alexandre!’

  ‘Enough, Silvain. I am tired and there is nothing I can do from in here. I’ve told you what I want, now please, go do it. We must know what the shadow mages are up to.’

  ‘Are you sure we need them? The Empress of Lakasha is dead.’

  ‘What?!’

  ‘The tool, whatever it is, that is supposed to replace the shadow mages that you support.’

  Alexandre fell quiet. Jacques mind reeled. Quince had killed the Empress of Lakasha?

  ‘It is a wonderful boost to morale, Lakasha has been making terrible progress across Dartham...’

  ‘Linette Arras was forced to flee the army.’

  ‘We have survived without them in the past, and Mance-Jolune will survive without shadow magic in the future.’

  ‘Go, Silvain.’ Alexandre repeated firmly. ‘Go, and do what I ask. We must know what Guy is doing.’

  CHAPTER 89

  9 Jorlaff, 1353

  The courtyard is full of caravans. It is night, a bad time to leave. The moon sparkles upon the white snow. Lanterns and magic light the way. It is bitterly cold. The wind cuts like a knife. The men always avoid leaving at night if they can.

  They seem calm. There is something odd about these people. He recognizes it, but he does nothing, simply watches. He has met his friends, the ones who have chosen to stay. He knows what is coming. He has said goodbye to those who have chosen to leave their bodies. The night unrolls like a familiar dream.

  The shadow mages, tiny, dark figures, go for their walks. The people of the fortress do not mind that they walk at night, easier to avoid those unearthly shadows that cling to them. People don’t like the shadows.

  Sometimes they are watched, but not always. When they complain, when they ask, when they use their power on those without candles, the people of the fortress succumb. Throughout the castle the children walk with purpose heretofore unknown. The ground level, supply baskets... they hide. They are small and light, too skinny, unhealthy... Others pick up the supply baskets destined for Kurak and filled with more earthly goods...

  The caravan masters are waiting. They know. Some servants who have left the safety of Arcos know too.

  It is a pleasant surprise when his friends find someone already willing, someone the others have made willing to help. Who has ever really helped them before? His friends and the others have never spoken, the plan has not been discussed. But they are all shadow mages. They know what they would do, what to expect. If someone is not compliant, his friends can fix it. When they decide to leave it is not hard. Leaving was never really the hard part.

  The hard part is what to do after...

  Muresh was awoken later that night by Azana. He opened his eyes sleepily.

  ‘Wha...what’s happening?’ he murmured into the darkness.

  The old lady was crying softly. ‘The others are gone, Muresh.’

  ‘Gone... gone where?’ Oh, good. So, Guy was right. He thought of caravans making a trail across the desert. He didn’t know what they’d do on the other side, but he was glad his friends had been able to hide in the caravans while everyone was still focussed on him.

  Not all his friends had made it. Some, on learning the truth of those who were meant to love them, had decided to leave this world and give in to their power. That wasn’t what Guy wanted, what I wanted. He would miss them, but he was glad they were happy.

  ‘You’re the only shadow mage left here. How... this place is protected by candles, how did they all leave?’

  He remembered the anger of his friends. They all had Azana’s too, Gramma’s who were supposed to love them and protect them. He’d never met Guy properly, but he could guess his plan. He knew what he would have done if he were in Guy’s place. It wouldn’t have been hard (what was ever difficult, really, for a shadow mage?). Everyone in Arcos was so eager to keep the shadow mages happy, and no one expected them to try and leave. All it took was a few outsiders, made willing to help them. I saw them... he remembered... little figures in the courtyard, caravans, his friends... I was probably supposed to leave as well. Who had told them to go? One of his friends would have understood he wasn’t coming. What was waiting for him outside Arcos? Nothing he was particularly interested in.

  ‘You’re all that’s left.’

  He shook his head. ‘I’m not using my shadow magic anymore...not to hurt people.’

  ‘I’ll be in trouble, so much trouble...’

  ‘You lived a longer life than me...’ he breathed softly.