27 He walked back to his estate in a daze, dissolved shadow swirling around his feet at every step, exploring. Anyone who saw him darted indoors. Perhaps they watched him, quaking, through their papered windows. “Your Eminence,” the man heard, over the march of approaching footsteps. He turned. Councilor Meridan in deep velvet, come with armed lackeys. “That creature is a danger to us all!” “I regret your cowardice more than your treachery,” the man said. He made the smallest gesture, and the shadow shot out from beside him. Cries arose from the armed guard. Screams, and rending metal. Swords slashed at the air, hitting nothing but the enveloping smoke that rose and choked all sound. Then, in the silence, the smoke withdrew and the shadow reformed. The man surveyed the carnage. Bodies, slashed across throat or chest, only once. Viciously. Economically. He smiled at the look of terror frozen into Meridan’s jowls. The shadow stood still, staring at its hands. “You were perfect, son.” The man set his hand on the shadow’s shoulder, on the darkness softer than silk. It shifted to stand against his warmth. Childlike eyes absorbing the praise from its father. * * * “You had Meridan killed today.” It was her first remark since supper began, the two dining in the privacy of her balcony. “You’re displeased.” “If you’re willing to murder your own puppets, what should that tell me?” “You are my honored guest, Senator.” “No, your prisoner. Why you think I might ever give you my support is beyond me—” “Senator, please. When have I been anything but kind?” “Kind to whom? Me? Meridan? The people?” A knock interrupted them, and the man leapt up. Before he could go even a pace, the shadow stumbled into the Senator’s quarters. “Father!” it rasped, clutching its shoulder. “What happened?” the Senator cried. The man peeled the shadow’s hand back, revealing a gash of light across its shoulder. Foaming white radiance, bleeding. “What did this?” the man asked sharply as he pulled the shadow over to the table. There, he pricked himself on his knife and rubbed a drop of blood over the gash. It sealed instantly. Scarless. The shadow proffered a rusted knife, gingerly, and the man lifted it. Impossible. No one but he
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy MTM4ODY=