The sun set on Pyria’s coast two days after their escape from the Daemon of Makavi, and Casek sat alone on a beach metres from where they had, exhausted, steered their small craft ashore and made camp. The amber firelight flickered and danced against the growing shadows, and behind him, Raelynn and Idris settled down to sleep, having allowed Casek to take first watch.
From Raelynn at least, it had been a pleasing show of trust. The voice of the Daemon had not stopped ringing through Casek’s mind since, and it seemed to have cast a spell of anxious silence over the group that had been seldom broken in the days since as they made their escape. He had been fearing the trust he’d built with Raelynn had been damaged, but her trusting him to keep watch whilst they slept went some way to offsetting that particular brand of paranoia, as had a few quiet words of friendly conversation before she’d made to get some sleep.
Idris, on the other hand, had remained uncomfortably difficult to read. Open distrust Casek might have been able to understand. Instead, the older man was utterly inscrutable. Casek just couldn’t get a read on him—he thought there was distrust there, but it was more than that. Any time the man looked at him, Casek felt like a caged animal being inspected by its captor, unsure whether he was prey, or merely a curiosity.
It would have been easier if he’d been able to talk things through with Tauph, but Casek had heard nothing from his companion since the mines. The voice’s power lay still within him, a frozen lake devoid of anything but the untapped well of strength. He had returned faster than this last time, although Casek had taken less power from him then. It was all he could do to hope Tauph would return quickly—as much as Casek hated the secrets between them; the entity had more than earned his place in Casek’s mind as his most trusted confidante.
Whatever else he was, Tauph was a friend, and Casek prayed he would return soon, and not too damaged by his sacrifice.
The sound of boots crunching across the gravel beach shook him free from his thoughts, and Casek glanced back, his heart sinking slightly that it was Idris and not Raelynn that approached him. The older man plopped down beside him, legs crossed, eyes set on the horizon lit by the final rays of the setting sun.
“We should talk, you and I. Clarify things.”
The words were simple, straight to the point. Casek felt his muscles tighten, like a deer preparing to bolt, and did his best to hide it.
“You don’t need to worry about letting me know you don’t trust me—I think I’ve picked up on that already. Raelynn said it when I first rescued her, too. I understand it, but I won’t pretend it doesn’t piss me off—not when I think about where you’d be right now if I hadn’t.”
Idris’ mouth quirked into a smile, and he raised his hands appeasingly. “I had not come to accuse, Casek. Discuss, yes. Accuse? No—not after Makavi. First though: an apology. I am an artificer—a specialist among the Binder Corps that constructs modifications for the foci, as well as defensive countermeasures against the Shadow. At my heart, I am a scientist. I do my best to weigh things logically, and to pursue lines of investigation that might produce new ways of combating our great enemy.
“When you freed me—suspicion was the last thing on my mind. Yes, I was aware of the possibility of possession, or somehow that you were Shadowspawn yourself, but the alternate explanation had me exhilarated. The possibility that, into my lap, a new weapon—a new avenue of discovery—had fallen. In the rush to learn and explore possibilities, I forgot myself, and indeed that you were a person doing all of this.”
Idris sighed and ran a hand through his thick hair. “All of this to begin by saying: I am sorry. I was unacceptably rude to somebody who had very much just saved my life—regardless of what you are, the first words to leave my mouth should certainly have been thank you.”
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Casek blinked, the racing of his mind shocked to a standstill, allowing the subtle whispering of the Bel’gor he’d begun to cycle to fill the void left. Of all the things he’d thought Idris had come to say, thank you was one of the last things he’d expected.
“I didn’t really hold it against you, but I appreciate the apology and the thanks,” Casek said, shrugging. Then he frowned. “Does this mean you trust me?”
Idris chuckled, then shook his head. “Ah, but trust is a difficult thing, no? Let me put it to you like this: as I see things, you can do things that no Shadowspawn and no human has done in a thousand years of conflict, so one of two things has happened,” Idris said, holding up two fingers. “Either, you are a human who, miraculously for humanity, can do something no human has ever done in affecting the stasis crystals. Or, you are Shadowspawn, possessed or otherwise, who can use the foci like a human, which none of the Shadow have ever been able to do.”
His grin widened. “No matter which, you are something that I would have said was impossible a mere three days ago. True enough, your actions seem to indicate that you are human—but this would not be the first time the Shadow has acted as a human to gain our trust, only for it to turn out to be an elaborate ploy to strike at us. History has taught us repeatedly to be distrustful of new hope—it has ever turned to ashes in our mouth, no matter how sweet at first bite.”
In front of them, the sun finally completed its journey past the horizon, and the resurgent moon cast its silver light across the sea’s gently rolling surface, the few stars in the sky glittering bright and clear, and Casek sighed. He had suspected as much despite how little he knew of the specifics of history—the instant and immediate distrust of the few humans he’d met since waking had spelled it out for him. It was why he’d done his best to take it in stride, no matter how frustrating it might have been.
“The Shadow can really possess people as easily as that—wear their skin like a disguise?” He asked quietly.
Idris nodded. “They can. We Binders are most at risk from it. Bound Shadows can wrest control from us in a moment of weakness, should we allow it. When that happens, our bodies are theirs to do with what they please. Binders have been picked off by their comrades on missions, unaware of their teammate’s fall. Families have welcomed relatives home to Oreia, only to be taken in their sleep by their newly returned loved ones. We are better at spotting the signs, but the best defence has always been an abundance of caution. We cannot afford anything less.”
“So where does that leave us?”
“For what it’s worth, as much as logic and learned pessimism warn me against it, I find myself liking you, Casek. Liking you and, for the first time in a long time, hoping. I will not lie to you: until we are back in Oreia, and I can make certain of things, I will not stop watching you, nor let down my guard. But I hope.”
“Oreia would be your choice of next move, then?”
Idris peered back at Raelynn, who slept soundly within a bed roll beside the fire. “It would. Getting you to a place of relative safety should be a priority. If you are not, indeed, Shadow, perhaps myself and the other artificers can figure out a way to replicate your ability. If not, we can at least plan our next move with the full force of the city’s Binders behind it. Raelynn, unfortunately, does not see things with the same clarity.”
“You can’t blame her for wanting to rescue somebody.”
“Of course. But, Taran himself would agree with me. Going to Pyry is an incredibly unnecessary risk. Horrible as it may be, Taran’s suffering is insignificant next to the good your powers could do for humanity.”
Casek leant back, his eyes picking out the few stars he could see in the sky. He had no memories of what the clear night sky should look like, no reference to judge how justified the immense loss that seeped through him when he looked up at it actually was. All he knew was the sight of so few was an almost unimaginable tragedy, and something once-beautiful had been irreversibly spoiled.
“As much as what you’re saying makes logical sense to me, even I’m finding it hard to contemplate leaving somebody behind I might be able to save—and I don’t even know the man. Raelynn will not be easy to convince.”
Idris snorted. “That, I believe, is quite the understatement. I will do my best, regardless. Either way, I fear sleep is quite beyond me at this point. I will take your place as first watch, rest while you can—tomorrow will be another difficult day.”
