Nox stood by the window of his room and looked down.
Lin was already asleep. She fell asleep quickly here, as if her body had finally believed that it could. In the slums, she always took a long time to fall asleep, listening to every sound beyond the wall. Not here. Here she just closed her eyes and drifted off.
Nox envied this. Quietly. To himself.
Someone knocked on the door.
«Get dressed,» Sylvana's voice said. «We are going out.»
«Where,» he asked.
«To the roof.»
«Why.»
«Because the first lesson is not done within four walls.»
He got dressed.
The roof was flat, wide, with a low parapet around the edges. From here, there was a view of the middle tier, its even streets and working lanterns. Further, beyond the edge of the tier, down below, Ravnes could be guessed. Dark, smoky, alive with its own special life. Nox looked there for a second. Then he looked away.
Sylvana stood in the middle of the roof. No hat, no coat. Just a dark shirt and the wind tousling a loose strand of hair. She was watching him as he came out.
«Stand here,» she said. She indicated a spot across from herself.
Nox stood.
«What now,» he asked.
«Feel the shadows.»
He looked around. The roof was lit by the lanterns below, unevenly, in patches. Shadows lay by the parapet, by the ventilation pipes, beneath his feet.
«I feel them,» he said.
«No,» she said. «You see them. That is different.»
Nox frowned.
«Explain the difference.»
«Seeing is with your eyes,» she said. «Feeling is when they are part of you. When you know where every shadow is without looking.» A pause. «Close your eyes.»
«Nox does not close his eyes on a roof at night with a person he does not trust.»
«You do not trust me,» she said. Without offense. Just a statement.
«Nox trusts no one.»
«Fine,» she said. «Then just lower your gaze. Look at the floor.»
He lowered his gaze.
«Now do not think about the shadows,» Sylvana said. Her voice was even, without intonation. «Just stand.»
«That is all?»
«That is all.»
Nox stood. He stared at the floor. He thought that this was pointless. Then he thought that Sylvana probably knew what she was doing. Then he thought again that it was pointless.
A minute passed.
«Nothing is happening,» he said.
«I know.»
«Then why stand here.»
«Because Shadow does not like to be waited for.» Sylvana walked over to him. She stood beside him. «It is like an animal. If you stare right at it and wait, it hides. If you do not look, it comes on its own.»
«This is not working.»
«Thirty more seconds.»
Nox was silent. He stared at the floor. He counted the seconds.
On the twenty-second second, something changed.
Not sharply. Slowly. As if something under his skin had shifted slightly. The tattoo on his back grew warm. And the shadows, those lying by the parapet and under the pipes, suddenly became different. Nox was not looking at them. But he felt them. Every one. Their shape, their weight, their edges.
«There,» Sylvana said quietly. «There it is.»
«Nox feels them,» he said. Quietly. Almost surprised.
«Now do not touch them. Just feel.»
He felt. He stood and felt how the shadows lay on the roof, how they breathed in time with him, how the largest one, by the left parapet, slowly stretched toward his feet.
«It is moving,» he said.
«It is always moving,» Sylvana said. «You just never noticed before.»
«Why is it reaching for me.»
«Because you are its bearer. It recognizes you.»
Nox looked at the shadow at his feet. Then he raised his hand. Slowly. And he tried to pull it toward himself.
The shadow lunged.
Not smoothly. Not obediently. It shot upward, spilled across the roof, covered half the space in black mist in a second. Nox recoiled. The mist was cold, alive, moving on its own, expanding, reaching for the edges of the roof.
«Nox,» Sylvana said evenly.
«Nox is not controlling,» he breathed. «Nox is trying but…»
«Do not try.» She raised her hand. She extended one finger. Just one. And she drew it through the air.
The mist stopped.
Then slowly, like water being sucked back, it began to recede. It shrank, gathered, lay back down as shadows on the roof. Calm. Obedient.
Nox stared at this with his mouth open.
«With one finger,» he said.
«With two,» Sylvana corrected. She lowered her hand. «Thumb and index.»
«Nox does not understand how you do that.»
«I do not carry Shadow.» She looked at him. «But I have worked with bearers before. I know how it moves. I know where it goes if left alone.» A pause. «You push it. That is a mistake.»
«What should I do instead.»
«Not push. Ask.»
Nox stared at her.
«Ask the shadow,» he repeated.
«Yes.»
«Nox asks the shadow.»
«Yes.»
«Nox talks to the shadow.»
«Nox,» she said with slight emphasis. «Yes.»
He was silent for a moment. Then he turned to the shadows. He looked at them. He tried not to push. He tried just to call.
The shadow jerked. Not as violently as before. But still not where it was supposed to go. It splashed across the floor, crawled in different directions.
Nox clenched his teeth.
«It is not working.»
«It is working,» Sylvana said. «Just not as fast as you want.»
«Nox wants to control it today.»
«Nox wants many things.»
«Nox is angry.»
«I see.»
He turned to her. Something hot was in his eyes. Anger and fatigue and something else that happens when you try with all your might and still cannot do it.
«Why are you so calm,» he asked sharply. «Nox is almost shouting, and you stand there as if you are discussing the weather.»
«Because your anger is not my problem,» she said simply.
«That is rude.»
«It is honest.» She looked at him. «Be angry. That is normal. But anger will not help you with Shadow. Shadow feels emotions. The stronger the emotion, the stronger its reaction.» A pause. «That is why Shadow bearers are dangerous when they are angry.»
«And when they are not angry.»
«Just dangerous.»
Nox almost smiled. Then he turned back to the shadows.
He tried again. Quieter. Without anger. He called.
The shadow stirred. It reached toward him. Slowly. Almost correctly.
Almost.
Then everything broke.
It came from inside.
Not from the shadow. Not from outside. From his head. A voice. Female, cold, with so much contempt in every word that Nox physically felt it like a blow.
«Bastard.»
He froze.
«Offspring of a cowardly father.» The voice was everywhere and nowhere at once. Not in his ears. Deeper. Directly in his consciousness. «Do you think you can take what belongs to me? You? A pathetic, filthy bastard from the slums?»
Nox clutched his head.
«Your father was a coward. Your mother was a fool. And you will die just like them. Alone. In the dirt. Without a name.» The voice rose. It grew louder, angrier, there was rage in it that had been held inside for a long time and was finally released. «You are nothing. You will never be anything. Shadow is not yours. It was never yours. I will take it back along with your life, do you hear me, bastard!»
Nox fell to his knees.
The shadow exploded.
It poured from all sides, from the roof, from the walls, from the air, black mist covered everything around. Nox could see nothing. Only darkness and the voice screaming inside his head as if trying to tear him apart from within. The cold was everywhere. In his hands, in his lungs, in his teeth.
«Nox!»
Sylvana's voice. Distant, through the mist.
«Nox, look at me!»
«Nox cannot,» he wheezed. «The voice. She. In my head.»
«I know.» Footsteps. She was walking toward him through the mist without stopping. «Hold on.»
He heard her approach. Then he felt her hand on his temple. Cold fingers. She cut something, her finger, and drew it across his skin. Blood, her blood, warm and foreign, touched his temple.
The goddess's voice cut off.
As if a thread had been snipped.
Silence fell on the roof so abruptly that Nox swayed. The mist began to settle. Slowly it dissipated, melted, leaving behind only cold air and the smell of something burnt.
Nox sat on his knees and breathed.
Sylvana stood beside him. She looked at him. In her hand was a small knife, thin as a needle. The tip of her finger was slightly darkened where she had cut it.
«She spoke to you,» Sylvana said.
«She shouted,» Nox answered. His voice was hoarse, not his own. «Nox did not expect that.»
«What did she say.»
He was silent for a second.
«That Nox will die.» A pause. «That his father was a coward. That his mother was a fool.» Another pause. Short. «She said many things.»
Sylvana looked at him. There was something in her violet eyes. Not pity. Something heavier than pity.
«She is very angry,» she said finally.
«Nox noticed.»
«That is good.»
Nox looked up.
«What is good about it.»
«A goddess only screams when she is afraid.» Sylvana put away the knife. «If she thought you were nothing, she would be silent.»
Nox stared at her.
«She is afraid of Nox,» he said. Slowly. As if tasting the words.
«She is afraid of the Shadow that is in you,» Sylvana corrected. «For now.» A pause. «But that is the same thing.»
Nox sat on the roof and looked at the sky. The moon hung over the city, large and bright. Too bright. He looked at it and thought about the voice that had screamed inside his head.
Then he raised his middle finger at the moon.
Sylvana saw it. She said nothing. But the corner of her mouth twitched slightly.
«Let us try again,» she said.
«Now?»
«Yes.»
«Nox almost tore off half the roof just now.»
«Exactly why now.» She looked at him. «Shadow has already come out. It is a little tired now. It is softer now.»
Nox stood up. His legs were trembling slightly. He did not show it.
He stood facing the shadows. He looked at them. He did not think about the voice. He did not think about the goddess. He did not think about power and control.
He thought about Lin.
About how she slept on her bed, sprawled out, taking up all the space. About how she had taken his hand in the morning without a word. About how she had divided the berries in half in their frozen room in the slums and pretended she was not hungry.
The shadow came on its own.
Quietly. Smoothly. Like water filling a mold. It wrapped around his legs, rose up his arms, lay along his spine. Obedient. Warm. His own.
Nox raised his hand.
The shadow rose with it.
He lowered it.
The shadow lowered.
He exhaled.
«There,» Sylvana said quietly. There was something in her voice he had not heard before. Not praise. Something quieter than praise. «There it is.»
«Nox thought about his sister,» he said.
«I know.»
«It works because.»
«Because Shadow goes toward what is important,» she said. «Not toward power. Not toward anger. Toward what is real.» A pause. «For you, that is her.»
Nox looked at the shadow in his hand. Black, alive, his own.
«Nox did not want this power,» he said quietly.
«I know.»
«Nox did not ask for it.»
«I know.»
«Then why must Nox live with it.»
Sylvana was silent for a second. Then she said:
«Because it is already inside you.» Simply. Without adornment. «And because those who want to take it will not ask whether you want it or not.»
Nox looked at the moon.
The moon looked at him.
«Nox will learn,» he said. Not to her. To himself. «Nox will learn, and then let her scream all she wants.»
Sylvana said nothing.
But this time, the corner of her mouth twitched more noticeably.
Lin had seen everything from the window.
When the mist rose above the roof, she grabbed the windowsill with both hands. When Nox fell to his knees, she opened her mouth to scream and closed it. She watched as Sylvana walked toward him through the mist without stopping. She watched as the mist settled. She watched as Nox stood up.
When the shadow obediently lay in his hand, Lin exhaled.
Then she went back to bed. She lay down. She pulled up the blanket.
When Nox returned to the room, she closed her eyes and breathed evenly.
He stood by the door for a second. Then he quietly lay down on his bed.
«Nox knows you are not asleep,» he said into the darkness.
Silence.
«Lin.»
«I am sleeping,» she said.
«No.»
«I very much am sleeping.»
«You saw.»
A long silence. Then:
«Yes.»
«That is all?»
«Yes.»
Nox lay and stared at the ceiling.
«And how was it,» he asked.
Lin was silent for a moment.
«It was scary,» she said quietly. «When you fell.»
«Nox handled it.»
«I know.» A pause. «She helped you.»
«Yes.»
«Fine,» Lin said. Shortly. As if she had made some decision inside herself. «Then fine.»
Nox did not ask what exactly was fine. He understood anyway.
They lay in the darkness. Outside the window, the middle tier breathed its night life. Quiet. Even.
The moon hung over the city.
Nox looked at it through the window.
«Nox will learn,» he repeated to himself. In a whisper. «And then we will see who kills whom, Moon Goddess.»