by JA Andrews
She pushed aside the idea of him marrying Madeleine. It felt too lonely to dwell on. “There’s nothing to be patient with, Roan. We all have to adjust.” She started walking back to the horses and he followed, his face unhappy. Trying to shake the gloomy mood, she said, “But more support for my opinions when we’re in a council would go a long way toward mending your horrible insufferableness.”
The edge of his mouth quirked up. “If your map work improved, I’d be more likely so support it.” His smile faded. “After all this is done, do you think you’ll even be at court much?”
Sini sighed. “I’m fairly certain it will be impossible for me to get out of it.”
Chapter Thirty-One
They left the campground at a hurried pace. They were making good time and should reach the Stronghold by the afternoon. Roan rode at the front of the column, and Sini felt glad to have some distance from him. His marriage to Madeleine felt…irritating, and she didn’t want to examine that feeling too closely.
It felt like ages before they rested the horses at a small lake. Her back ached from all the trotting and she made her way to where Will and Alaric were talking. “When we were attacked on the way to the elves,” she said to Alaric, “How did you strengthen the sticks you fought with?”
Alaric considered her for a moment. “Inanimate things have an essence that is different than the vitalle that fills living things. It infuses the object with its own sense of being. Take your ring.” He motioned to the silver band on her finger with the garnet. “If you cast out toward the silver, you’ll find it filled with tiny drops of…silver-ness.”
She cast out toward it, but saw only the bright vitalle of her hand and the flare of energy around the garnet. “I see nothing.” She glanced at Will.
“Don’t look at me,” he said. “If you can’t see it, there’s no hope for me.”
“It takes practice.” Alaric picked up a piece of grass and reached over to touch Sini’s ring with one finger. She cast out toward the ring again and felt something shift inside it. Very slowly, a faint stream of something dark trickled out of it and into Alaric’s finger. He moved his finger to the grass, and she saw the something slide into it. Creeping forward the tiniest bit at a time, a thin line of vitalle wrapped around it. When it was done, Alaric shook out his hand and gave the grass to Sini. It felt like a cold, hard needle in her hand.
“That won’t last,” Alaric said. “The silver essence won’t bind to the grass, not without a lot of coaxing, but it will remain hard until maybe midday.”
“How did you find the essence of the silver? I’ve never read anything about doing that.”
“The Keepers aren’t fond of the idea,” he admitted. “But I was convinced at one time that Evangeline’s cure lay in understanding how the Shade Seekers manipulated inanimate things, so I was motivated to learn.” His face grew pensive. “It helped save Evangeline’s life. The older Keepers don’t agree with me, but I think it’s just another way to think about energy.” He motioned to her ring. “They won’t be excited about that either, but I think burning stones can be useful tools.”
Sini tried to bend the grass, but it stayed rigid. “Could we use this to strengthen the Stronghold? It’s already made of stone, but I doubt that will be enough. What would make it stronger than a dragon?”
Alaric laughed. “Another dragon?”
“Please don’t let there be another dragon,” Will groaned.
Sini sat up straight in her saddle. “What about a dragon scale?” She searched through the pockets of her Keeper’s robe and pulled out the thin yellow scale.
The yellow glittered so brightly in the sunlight that Alaric drew back. “You have a dragon scale?”
“I don’t know that it’s real.” She tilted it and a ripple of frosty cream-colored light raced across the surface.
He took it and held it up in the sunlight. “Where did you get this?”
“It came on a bottle of yellow wine from a merchant in the city square. Roan said they are traditionally decorated with dragon scales, but today they’re made of thin painted metal.”
Alaric closed his eyes and Sini felt something like a gentle casting out. His eyes flew open. “This is real!”
Will took it and examined it. “Breathtaking.”
“Where was this merchant?” Alaric asked
“In the market square in Queenstown. And Roan and I also met him in the Lees one morning.”
Will tried to bend the scale but it refused. “It’s stronger than it looks.” He handed it back to Sini.
“Maybe strong enough to protect against another dragon,” Alaric agreed. Roan called out that it was time to continue. “Keep that safe,” Alaric said. “And available.”
She held it in her palm and the light danced across the yellow in shimmers of glittering wintery white. A real dragon scale. She tucked it back into her deepest pocket and with one last stretch, mounted her horse.
By midmorning they could see the Marsham Cliffs rising like a wall on the eastern horizon. The road wandered toward it over hills and around stands of trees. But the real barrier to the Stronghold wasn’t the cliffs. At the base of the rock face, the blue-green shadow of a pine forest stretched as far to the north and south as they could see. Sini gripped the reins tighter when she caught sight of it. They were close enough to it by lunch that they ate the rations the guards handed out without stopping.
Talen soared out of the sky not long after they’d eaten, flaring his wings to land on Will’s saddle horn with a note that the Keepers would be ready to leave when they arrived.
When they reached the edge of the trees Alaric called for a stop.
“This is as far as the guards go,” he announced.
Roan began to protest, but Alaric stopped him. “The path through the woods to the Stronghold is already protected and I’m not bringing a dozen strangers to a hidden valley.”
“They don’t want to go in anyway,” Will said.
Sini looked into the woods. “They really don’t.”
“The forest won’t let you through,” Alaric continued, speaking to the soldiers. “Without the escort of a Keeper, you’d likely wander in it until you died.”
The soldiers exchanged tight glances.
“We may need help carrying the other Keepers out, though, so Roan, Douglon, and Sora can come,” Alaric said. “And we’ll need the stretchers in case the twins are too weak to ride.”
Roan took the stretchers on his own horse, and Alaric led the rest of them farther up the edge of the forest, out of view of the soldiers. They rode on, Alaric looking intently into the trees over two more hills before he stopped next to a thin game trail.
The path didn’t look familiar. Sini knew there were a half dozen small paths that led into the woods, and if they were followed correctly, to the Stronghold. But she’d never been on this one.
“I’ll go first,” Alaric said.
“How do you know we won’t lead people back here in the future?” Douglon asked him.
Alaric spared him a short glance. “You won’t want to. The forest does not want you to get through. There are things that will attempt to scare you into leaving the path.”
Douglon shifted to peer into the forest. “I’m not afraid of trees.” In his lap, Avina peered at the woods curiously. He glanced down at her. “Very often.”
“It’s not the trees. You’ll hear wolves. They cannot hurt you if you stay on the path.” He squared his shoulders and looked into the trees. “And there are ghosts.”
Sini shivered at the memory of the white faces.
“They can read your deepest fears,” Alaric continued. “Just remember, no matter what you hear, none of it will hurt you as long as you stay with us on the path.”
“And if we leave the path?” Roan asked.
“Don’t do that,” Will said grimly.
Alaric glanced at Douglon. “You might want to cover Avina’s ears. I don’t think a crazed elf will help this go any smoother.”
Alaric nudged his horse forward and entered the wood. Douglon came next, followed by Roan. Will motioned for Sini to go before Sora. Will brought up the rear.
The forest was almost like any other. Sunlight streamed down from above in long rays of light. A thick layer of dead pine needles covered the ground, muting their horses’ steps. The air held the clean smell of pine and the damp smell of moss. Birds chittered and small unseen animals rustled through the undergrowth. But there was something watchful. Something biding its time.
Roan rode ahead of Sini with his hand on the pommel of his sword. Douglon twitched toward each new sound.
“Worse than the Greenwood,” he muttered.
“Keep a tight rein on your horses,” Alaric called back. “Nothing will hurt us on the path.”
Roan shot a concerned look over his shoulder at Sini.
“We should hear the wolves soon,” she said.
The first howl rang out to their right, and the entire group twisted to face that way. More sounded from the left and Sini’s horse flicked his ears.
“Keep moving,” Will called.
They hurried their horses forward, flinching at the howls ringing out around them until around a sharp corner in the path, the baying stopped and the forest fell quiet. No birds sang and no little animals scurried along the branches or the forest floor.
“I think I liked the howls better,” Roan muttered.
“You’ll like them better than the ghosts,” Sini said. “They try to convince you that your worst fears are true.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad.”
“It is.”
They rode through the unnaturally quiet forest for several long minutes before Sini caught a glimpse of Alaric flinching at something. Douglon swore a moment later and curled himself over Avina. The reaction trickled down the line as each person passed a large pine standing on the left edge of the path.
Roan looked around warily until his eyes snapped to the trunk. He drew in a sharp breath and pulled away.
Sini braced herself.
As her horse drew even with the tree, a milky white face slid out of the bark. “You are alone,” it whispered.
Even knowing it was coming, the words struck deeper than she’d expected. The face was an old man, gaunt and thin. Stringy bits of hair hung from the sides of his head. His eyes were empty black holes.
“I am not,” Sini whispered back, gripping her reins tightly. “I have seven friends here. Which is a lot for me.”
“They won’t hurt you,” Will said, his voice tight. “Just keep riding.”
When Sini reached the next tree a child’s face leaned toward her. “Your powers are uselesssss.” The hiss followed after her, creeping along the back of her neck.
A ray of sunlight slanted through the trees ahead of her and she rode through it, drawing in the sunfire, letting the power of it fill her.
The next face emerged slowly from the tree, lifting his chin and staring at her with black eyes.
Lukas.
She gripped the reins tighter.
He looked as he had on the Sweep, his hair long, his beard braided. Sini drew in a gasp and waited, but he said nothing, merely watched her with distain. She turned to watch him disappear behind her.
“I’m glad to be free of you,” his voice snapped her attention back forward and she shank back from his cold, accusing eyes. “I shouldered your weight for too long.”
“We just kept you around for your power,” he whispered from ahead of her. She snapped her head around and saw his face glaring at her with disgust from the next trunk. Every tree ahead of her on the path held a milky, thin image of his face.
“They don’t want you,” one said.
She flinched lower in her saddle.
“You offer them nothing,” said the next.
“You’ve done nothing but hurt them.”
Sini’s heart pounded and she shut her eyes, letting her horse follow Roan’s down the path on its own. Alaric’s voice startled her into looking up. His face, pale and severe, floated at the next trunk. “You betrayed us.” His voice cut into her. “You’re so naive.”
Her breath caught in her throat and she flinched away as Will’s face appeared ahead of her. Instead of angry, he looked tired, defeated. “I should have left you on the Sweep.”
She shrank away from the words, from the truth of it. Rett’s familiar, gentle face slid out of the next trunk and she pressed her hand to her mouth. Not Rett too.
“Tired of helping you, Sini.” His voice dripped with disgust.
She pressed her eyes shut. That’s not Rett. It’s not really him. Her heart pounded and a sob rose up her throat anyway.
“We wish,” the Shield’s thin, old voice began, and her eyes were drawn to his face against her will, “that you’d never been found.”
She ducked her head down so she wouldn’t have to see them.
“You don’t belong,” Rett’s voice said.
“You’ve never belonged,” agreed Lukas.
The truth of it crashed into her.
Ahead, the real Alaric let out a strangled yell and spurred his horse into a gallop to reach the edge of the trees. Douglon and Roan followed, and Sini pounded after them, flying out past the last tree, the voices of the ghosts fading into the forest. She let her horse run across the swath of grass to stop by the others along the base of a huge cliff.
The words still pounded in her head. …never belonged…
Above them the Marsham Cliffs jutted up into the sky. Sunlight poured down on them and Sini drank it in, letting the sunfire infuse her, driving back the fear that gutted her. Sora and Will spilled out of the forest behind her, hunched over their horses’ necks.
“What—” Douglon’s voice came through rough, “—was that?” The dwarf’s face was pale behind his beard and Sini caught the glimmer of wetness on his cheeks. Avina clung to him sobbing and he had his arms wrapped around her so tightly it was a miracle she could breathe. “I thought this place housed kindly old men. Why is it guarded by those demons?”
“Those wards were placed here centuries ago,” Alaric said, his voice unsteady. “We’re not sure why this particular form of protection was chosen, but it’s generally effective. Even we Keepers don’t really want to come through these woods.”
Most of the others stared at the ground. Sora curled forward in her saddle, her arms wrapped around herself. Will rode up next to her, and even though his own face was haunted, he set his hand on her shoulder.
“Deep breaths,” he told everyone, his voice quiet. “The ghosts play on your emotions. None of those words are things you haven’t told yourself. They strike deeply because they are familiar.” His voice strengthened as he spoke. In the bright sunlight Sini could just see the mist of blue-green light forming from his words. It reached her and she felt a breath of peace. “But every one of you is feeling the same thing.”
Sini glanced at him, realizing that not only could he feel his own fear, he could also feel everyone else.
“The ghosts used different words,” he continued, “but it causes the same result in each of us. They want you to feel hopeless and alone.
“The forest fed your fear so that you would run away, because it knows your fears can overcome almost everything else. But love can overpower things too, as can the truth that we are not hopeless or alone. Breathe deeply. Look at each other.”
Sini did take a full breath. The air in the clearing was fresh and calm. Roan’s face was drawn, his shoulders curled in.
“Look at each other.” Will rode slowly between them all and stopped near Alaric who sat stiffly on his horse, his breath coming quickly. Will managed a small smile, his voice steadier. “Those emotions aren’t the full truth about you, but it’s ea
sier to recognize that about someone else. These friends around you—you’d banish their fears if you could. You’d convince them that the truth of who they are is so much vaster.”
Alaric rubbed at his face and looked around the group.
“As clearly as you know that about them”—Will caught Sini’s eye—“remember the same about yourselves. If you can’t hear your own voice telling you that your fears do not define you, then believe the words your friends would speak.”
Sini straightened in her saddle, taking another breath, and the others stirred around her.
“Trust me,” Will said, his smile coming easier now. “You are all much more than a single emotion.”
Roan pushed his shoulders down and sat up taller. He met her gaze and offered her an exhausted smile.
“Now,” Will said, “we need to get the Keepers out. Don’t worry,” he added, “the forest is perfectly happy to let us leave. There’ll be no ghosts on the way out.”
He climbed off his horse and walked toward the cliff. The short section of wall that covered the entrance to the Stronghold sat flush against the rock face. Alaric dismounted as well and stretched, and Sini and the others followed suit.
Roan walked up close to Sini’s shoulder. “How many times have you ridden through there?” he asked quietly.
“Too many.”
He gave her a sidelong glance. “Does it ever get easier?”
She pressed her eyes shut. “No.”
He considered her for a moment, opening his mouth twice before he actually spoke. “You’re a good Keeper, Sini. Alaric and Will already trust you. And I, for one, am glad you are one. If that matters.”
The words sank into her like sunfire, and she leaned into them. “And you,” she told him, “will be an excellent lord consort. Madeleine is lucky to be marrying you, and court will be a better place for having you in it.”
