that I can’t explain. I believe my own power is weakening somehow, as well as those of my friends. It takes all of my concentration to find new Shay users. I had thought perhaps I was just missing them, that it was just me. But we’ve noticed that the numbers of Rol’dan recruits have dwindled as well. If what we suspect is true, I believe that soon there will be no more Shay users in all of Adamah.”
Ridiculous! Powers don’t weaken. But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. A year before, Nolan could barely keep his power under control. He’d figured that he’d just gotten better at hiding. Or maybe it was both.
“Though I can’t prove it,” Emery continued, “I believe King Alcandor is responsible. His powers and abilities are like none other. I suspect he is harnessing our Shays, using them to increase his own.”
Emery squeezed the window ledge so hard his blood-smeared knuckles whitened. “It’s essential that we save these children before they are lost to the king’s army. Increasing our numbers also gives us a better chance of finding a solution to our fading powers. Do you understand our plight? Nolan, can you help us?”
He couldn’t answer. Emery was asking him to alter everything. His life was safe as a scribe. He should tell Emery to shove off, but something made him pause. Nolan was as much a prisoner in the manor as Emery.
“I can understand your hesitation,” Emery said. “It’s a serious crime I’m asking you to commit. Even if you refuse, I’d like for you to go with my friends. Our life isn’t safe, but neither is the one you’re attempting now. With my friends, at least you’ll no longer have to pretend.”
His jaw dropped. Such a place exists?
The echo of footsteps approached. Nolan’s supplies lay strewn on the floor near Emery’s feet. Nolan scrambled to retrieve the book and quill. As he rose, Emery grabbed his arm and whispered, “What is your gift, friend?”
A guard entered and Emery quickly dropped his hold.
“General Trividar, sir?” The guard looked around. “Where’s the general?”
“He left,” Nolan lied. “Didn’t you see him pass?”
“I uh … Yes. Of course.” He cleared his throat. “Are you done then?”
“In a moment.” Nolan bent to retrieve the bottle of ink off the ground and locked eyes with Emery. In that brief moment, he made a decision.
He relaxed, letting a pulse of his Shay leak through his control. The blue light of Accuracy flickered in Nolan’s eyes, just long enough for Emery to see, and then he hid it away again. For the first time in his life, he’d shared his secret.
The guard led Nolan from the room and pulled the heavy door closed. He casually reached into a small pouch around his waist, digging into it with a confused expression. “Strange. Must’ve left it downstairs.”
“Left what?” Nolan asked.
“My key.” The guard grunted. “It’s not like the traitor can go anywhere with those chains, but still …”
“I’m sure it’ll turn up.” Nolan reinforced his words with his best reassuring smile and readjusted the pouch … which held the key.
Chapter Four
NOLAN BRUSHED HIS HAND over the battered red cover. Inside, the book listed the results of the Tournament of Awakening for the last hundred years. He opened it and thumbed back two years prior, the year of his own tournament, the year his life drastically changed. Nolan’s name was under the large list of people who’d failed. The list of those obtaining a power contained twenty names.
Nolan pulled his eyes from the book to the activities of the pub. It was mid-morning—well past breakfast and well before lunch. Every table was filled, and people hovered at the outskirts of the room, all waiting their turn to grab a chair.
A robust woman appeared at Nolan’s table. Her rosy cheeks crinkled in a pleasant smile, and a mane of salt-and-pepper hair framed her round face. “What can I do for ya?”
“Ale
Mark P Donnelly, Daniel Diehl