The Shadow Of What Was Lost Read Online Free PDF

anticipate any trouble.
    “Afternoon, Master Dael,” he said
respectfully as he entered.
    The butcher was a thin man, no
older than forty, with a bushy moustache that dwarfed his narrow face.
“Morning, lad,” he replied, looking neither happy nor unhappy to see him. He
never learned the names of his regular Gifted customers – none of the
shopkeepers did – but Master Dael was unfailingly polite, which was an
improvement on most.
    Davian handed him a slip of
paper. “This is everything.”
    “Shouldn’t be a problem,” Master
Dael said as he read the list.
    Behind him, the bell hanging
above the door rang as another customer entered. The butcher glanced up, and
immediately his demeanour changed.
    “Get out,” he growled, looking
twice the size he had a moment ago. “We don’t serve the likes of you here.”
    For a moment, Davian thought the order
was directed at him; some shopkeepers were only willing to sell to the Gifted
when there was nobody else present to see. In those situations, Davian knew to
simply take Jeni around the back of the shop and wait for the shopkeeper to
come and find him.
    Master Dael’s gaze was focused
past him, though. Davian turned to see an unfamiliar young man – no more than
five years older than Davian himself – frozen in the doorway. Even in the dim
light, Davian could see the black spiderweb of veins running jagged lines
across his face, outward from his eyes.
    The butcher’s scowl deepened when
the newcomer didn’t move. “You heard me,” he said angrily.
    “I just wanted -”
    Before Davian knew what was
happening there was a stout oak club in Master Dael’s hands, and the thin man
was advancing around the counter.
    The Shadow turned and fled,
leaving only the clanging of the door’s bell in his wake.
    Immediately, Master Dael’s
expression reverted to its usual, businesslike state, as if nothing had
transpired. “I apologise for that.”
    “That’s... okay,” said Davian,
trying not to sound shaken. He glanced again at the shop door, hesitating as he
thought of Leehim. He knew he shouldn’t say anything more.
    “So you don’t serve Shadows?”
    The butcher gave him a withering
look. “No self-respecting shopkeep would, and fates take me if I care what they
do up in Ilin Illan. I may not like you Gifted, but this is a business and I’d
be a poor man if I only traded with those I liked. Shadows, on the other
hand….” He looked around as if trying to find somewhere to spit. “I've been
hearing plenty about them and this Shadraehin fellow that everyone's talking
about. The types of things, the evil things that their kind get up to...
well, some stories you just can’t ignore. A man has to draw the line
somewhere.”
    Davian kept his expression
carefully neutral. He'd never heard of this 'Shadraehin' before - not unusual,
as the school was too isolated to get many of the rumours that filtered down
from the capital - but it just sounded like the usual fear-mongering
Administration liked to spread.
    Still, he could hardly say that
to Master Dael’s face. All that would earn him was a forceful ejection from the
shop, and the distinction of losing the school one of their few reliable
suppliers.
    “Maybe they’re not all like
that,” he pointed out, trying not to sound argumentative.
    The butcher’s face darkened, as
if he’d just realised who he was talking to. “Some people say the Tols use them
when they want to get around the Tenets, too,” he said, as if defying Davian to
challenge the statement.
    Davian kept his mouth shut after
that.
    Before long he was heading
outside again, the butcher having regained his usual cool composure and
instructing him to load up his cart around back. Davian looked briefly for the
Shadow before leading Jeni into the alleyway beside the shop, but the young man
had fled. He felt a brief pang of regret, wondering if he should have said
something more in support. It would have been pointless, even foolish to bring
down