The Shattered Dark sr-2

by Sandy Williams

  I look at Trev, see blood gushing from the gap between the lower part of his cuirass and the jaedric armor protecting his right thigh. Shit.

  “Get out of here,” I tell him. He’ll bleed to death if he doesn’t get the help of a fae healer soon.

  He shakes his head and takes an unsteady step forward, putting himself between me and the approaching remnant. For one brief moment, I consider letting them take me. Trev could fissure out, and it would be the quickest and easiest way to get to Paige. But then, I have no way of knowing if she’s alive.

  My throat tightens, but I force my worry for my friend down as I face the woman. When she raises her sword, I say, “There’s tech trained on this parking lot. It’s recording everything. Drag me out of here, and the whole world will see.” My words might be true. I’m sure a few security cameras are trained on the parking lot, but I have no clue where they are or how many.

  “They’ll see only you,” she says.

  Yeah, me being hauled across the parking lot kicking and screaming. People would most likely write me off as crazy rather then guess that fae exist, but she doesn’t need to know that, so I start to point out how suspicious that would look when half a dozen fissures erupt around us.

  Rebels. Nalst has fissured back with more fae wearing shoddy jaedric armor. The woman recognizes whose side they’re on the same instant I do. She opens her own fissure and disappears before Nalst, the nearest rebel, can attack. The remnant fighting Trev isn’t as lucky. He opens a fissure, but isn’t able to leap through it before Trev kills him.

  “The shadows,” Trev says, his voice strained. “Read them.”

  Since the dead fae disappeared into the ether—into the fae afterlife—and not into a fissure, those misty white soul-shadows tell me nothing, but the shadows from the woman’s fissure are weaving themselves into a pattern. I focus on them, my fingers itching to draw a row of…houses? Storefronts? Without actually sketching the shadows, I can’t be sure what they are or where she went. They don’t really become concrete unless I draw them out. All I know is she’s gone to the Realm. Possibly someplace in the north.

  “I need a…” My sketchbook. It’s in the suitcase left behind in my living room, but even if it was safe to go back for it, the shadows wouldn’t remain in my memory long enough to map them.

  “There’s no time,” Nalst says, stepping to my side. “The remnants will return with reinforcements.” To Trev, he says in Fae, “Go.”

  Trev nods, then fissures out as the rebels Nalst brought with him take up positions around me. I don’t recognize anyone else, but that’s not surprising. A month ago, I was the rebels’ prisoner. They didn’t exactly make a lot of introductions.

  “The nearest gate’s ten minutes from here,” I tell Nalst. A gate is the only way I can enter a fissure with a fae and survive. They’re places in the atmosphere, always over water, where fae can enter the In-Between while escorting a human, or anything else they can’t wear or hold themselves. The magic of how to make more is lost, so we’ve always had to work with the ones that already exist.

  It would take me twenty minutes to get there if I walked, but I head to the north side of my apartment complex at a run. If a fae doesn’t have an anchor-stone imprinted with a location, or if they haven’t been to a place before, they can only fissure within their line of sight. My apartment is still within view. I need to get the hell out of this parking lot before a new wave of remnants arrives.

  I’m just a few strides away from the walkway between the buildings when I sense the fissures. A second later, just as I’m darting into the narrow space, I hear them opening. I have no clue if they’ve seen me, but I’m certain they’ve seen the rebels, so I force my legs to move faster, stretch farther.

  I reach the back of the building, sharp shrrips and flashes of light erupting behind me.

  “Get to the gate!” Nalst orders. A tall, thick hedge lines the back of the property, so I have to cut to the right. The hedge is to my left as I run. The rebels hold their position at the junction of the back alley and the gap between the buildings—that’s where the remnants have to be to get a glimpse of me. If they make it there, they’ll be able to reappear at my side.

  I’m at a full sprint, passing another gap between buildings, when a strip of white light splits the atmosphere directly in front of me. Not only does it cut off my escape route, it’s so close, I nearly run into it. I lose my balance evading it, but I’m not able to avoid the fae stepping into this world.

  My fist rises instinctively, aiming for the fae’s face, until I recognize Aren. Even though my heart thuds at the sight of his silver eyes and wild, disheveled hair, I’m tempted to keep swinging. His fissure could have killed me.

  He grabs my fist in the air, then uses his body to maneuver me out of the back alley and into the narrow space between the buildings.

  “You’re missing something, nalkin-shom,” he says before I can yell at him for opening his fissure so close to me.

  Missing something? “My suitcase? That’s hardly import—”

  He ushers me farther down the walkway. “I gave you a weapon.”

  I scowl at him over my shoulder. The sun is directly overhead, so even though we’re hiding between two tall apartment buildings, his light brown hair is streaked with gold. It doesn’t quite touch his shoulders, which are protected by jaedric armor, but it’s long enough that, if we had more time, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from touching the slightly curled ends.

  “You gave me a sword, Aren. Where am I supposed to hide that?” He can run around this world all he wants with his sword waving about, but I can’t. Not even the strongest fae illusionist can make a human invisible.

  “Then you should have asked for a dagger,” he says, coming to a stop just before we reach the front edge of the apartment building.

  “My apartment was supposed to be safe.”

  “Shh.” He puts a finger to my lips as he presses me against the side of the brick building and, of course, that’s when the edarratae, the chaos lusters, decide to react. The blue lightning leaps from his fingertip to my lips. I suck in a breath. It’s an involuntary reaction to the hot, addictive sensation traveling down my neck. It sinks into my core, making my stomach tighten, and even though I try to hide how much the sensation affects me, Aren sees it.

  The tiniest smile pulls at one side of his mouth. A month ago, that smile would have infuriated me. Now? Now, I recognize the spark in his silver eyes. He doesn’t just want me because I’m an asset that can help the rebels keep the Silver Palace; he wants me because he’s fallen in love with me.

  He’s fallen in love with me in less than two months. It’s insane considering we were enemies for the majority of that time.

  He takes hold of my hand, keeping me in place while he cautiously peers around the edge of the building.

  “The closest gate is back in the other direction,” I whisper.

  “The remnants know that, too,” he says. Then, he loops his arm around my waist and inches me forward. “See anything?”

  Only a human with the Sight can see fae who are hidden by illusion, so I scan the parking lot, searching for anyone Aren can’t see. A car is slowly driving around, probably looking for a specific apartment—the numbers on the sides of the buildings are tiny—but that’s to our advantage since the remnants apparently don’t want to cause a scene. As long as Aren remains invisible to normal humans, the driver shouldn’t take notice of anything unusual.

  “It’s clear,” I say. I check over my shoulder to make sure no remnants are in sight. I can hear them fighting somewhere in the back alley, but the rebels must be doing their job, keeping the former king’s fae engaged long enough for me to escape.

  Aren unhooks a sheathed dagger from his belt. Then, meeting my gaze, he hands it to me and says, “Don’t go anywhere unarmed again.”

  No one should be allowed to have eyes like his. You can get lost in them. The silver-gray irises are flecked with light, and they’re darker
on the outer edges. A fae’s eyes darken and lighten with emotion, and right now, Aren’s are as determined as steel. He expects me to use the dagger if I’m threatened.

  I wrap my hand around the weapon’s hilt. I’ve killed before. It wasn’t deliberate—I wanted to ward off the fae attacking me, not slash open his stomach—and I hope I never have to again.

  Aren draws his sword, then we step off the narrow walkway. The car cruising the parking lot circles around again. We walk past one row of parked vehicles and are almost to the next when my skin tingles. Fissures, four of them, cut through the air to our left. Aren curses and disappears into his own slash of light just as an arrow whistles through the air. It vanishes when it hits his fissure, and before I have time to duck or run or come up with another plan, Aren reappears on my other side.

  He lunges behind me. The sound of swords clashing rings in my ears. A cry tells me Aren’s killed or injured a remnant, but I remain facing the pair in front of me. They press forward.

  I draw my dagger out of its sheath. It looks tiny compared to the fae’s swords, but it’s all I have.

  The fae on the left disappears. I spin around, knowing he’ll reappear behind me, and slash out with my dagger. The remnant is just far enough away to avoid my attack. He grabs my arm before I can bring my weapon around for a second swing.

  I gasp when he digs his fingers in between the tendons on my wrist, trying to force me to drop the dagger. I hold on to it, try to pivot its point toward him, but he’s ten times stronger than I am, and his grip hurts.

  He brings his sword up, issues a threat in Fae.

  In my peripheral vision, I see Aren charge forward. The remnant notices him, too, but not soon enough. Aren rams into us, sending both me and the remnant stumbling across the parking lot.

  Across the parking lot and into the path of the approaching car.

  I swear to God the driver speeds up. It hits hard, sending me and the fae onto the hood. Pain shoots through my thigh, then through my ribs and right arm, as the sky spins.

  It’s still spinning when the driver slams on the brakes. I’m suddenly sprawled on the asphalt in front of the car. I try to push myself up to my hands and knees, but before I reach my feet, Aren’s there, yanking me up. He jerks open the vehicle’s door and shoves me into the passenger seat. I tumble awkwardly inside, look up in time to see a remnant fissure in behind Aren just after he slams my door shut.

  “Watch out!” I shout, but the remnant’s sword is already swinging.

  TWO

  THE SWORD CRASHES into the car, shattering my window and cleaving into the doorframe. I cover my face with my arms, shielding my eyes from the flying glass.

  “Hold on!” someone says from the driver’s seat as the car’s tires squeal.

  I look at Shane, the human who’s driving, as he spins the wheel, throwing me against the damaged passenger door. The car makes a wild left turn out of the parking lot and onto the road.

  I grab the oh-shit handle above the door, my heart pounding. “Did he fissure out?”

  Shane nods, straightening the wheel. “Just after he ducked. Crazy bastard dove headfirst into the light.”

  The wind whips into my side of the car, throwing tiny shards of glass at me and tangling my hair. I brush it back with my fingers and hold it in a ponytail while I try to slow my breathing.

  “Here,” Shane says, taking a pink scrunchie off the gearshift and handing it to me.

  I stare at it a second, then glare at him. “You stole this car.”

  “You want to hold your hair the whole way to the gate, or do you want to use this?” he asks, not a hint of regret in his voice. I guess that shouldn’t surprise me. He doesn’t have a problem accepting the money the fae give us—money that’s stolen from U.S. banks—to pay his bills, so why should he care about stealing a car?

  I take the scrunchie.

  “It was Aren’s idea,” Shane says, resting his right hand on the gearshift. His shirtsleeves are pushed up, so the long, wrinkled white scar on his forearm is visible. It’s worse than any of the scars I have. He won’t talk about how he got it, but I’m sure a fae had something to do with it.

  “You should be thanking me.”

  I lift my gaze from his arm to give him a skeptical look. “Thanking you? You hit me with a car.”

  “I saved your life,” he points out.

  I roll my eyes but don’t argue. I don’t know Shane well despite being roommates these past two weeks. He’s not a shadow-reader like me, but he worked for King Atroth, too, using his Sight to see through fae illusions. I first met him just a few weeks ago, right after the rebels traded me to the Court for one of their own. I spent one restless night in his mansion before I returned to the Realm and had my world turned upside down. That’s when I stopped being the rebels’ prisoner and started to have serious doubts about working for the king.

  “Did you come from the palace?” I ask Shane. He wasn’t home when I left our Vegas suite. For him to get here as quickly as he did, he must have been with the rebels.

  “Yeah,” he says, slowing down. “I talked to Lena.”

  Lena, daughter of Zarrak. She’s in charge of the rebellion and claimed the silver throne after King Atroth was killed. We both wanted to see the other dead not so long ago, but now, I’m desperate to keep her alive. She’s the best hope I have for ending this war with my friends still breathing.

  Sometimes, I still can’t believe Lena and I are working together.

  “You finally agreed to help us?” I ask.

  Shane shrugs as he accelerates. “I was getting bored.”

  I manage to keep my mouth shut. Barely. If excitement is the only reason he’s joining the rebellion, nothing will stop him from switching allegiances if the situation in the Silver Palace gets even uglier than it is now. I’m sure the remnants wouldn’t hesitate to take him back. The rest of the humans who worked for the king are already helping them. Lena and the rebels didn’t move quickly enough tracking them down. The only reason we got Shane is because he was at the palace when we invaded. Afterward, Lena set him up in the suite with me because she thought I might be a good influence on him, like my choice of allegiance would spread to him like a cold or something.

  He turns onto a feeder road, and I try to relax. I’m out of danger for now. My heart rate should be slowing down, but it’s not, and I think I know why. With the whole fleeing-for-my-life thing, I’ve been able to ignore the worry gnawing at my stomach. I can’t ignore it any longer. The remnants have Paige.

  Paige’s purse was warded. The rebels checked out my place before Trev and Nalst fissured me there. If the remnants had placed a ward in the typical places—on a door or in a hallway—Trev or Nalst would have found it, but they didn’t go around digging through my drawers or picking up every object in my apartment. They had no reason to touch Paige’s purse. Placing the ward there was a cunning move on the remnants’ part.

  I tuck a strand of hair that escaped from my ponytail behind my ear as I stare out my broken window. We’re passing the turnoff for my college. My former college now that I’ve been kicked out. God, I still want that degree. I want a normal job and a life where I don’t have to worry about someone killing me or the people I care about.

  I pinch the skin between my eyes, trying to release some of the pressure building behind them. Is there any possible way I could be wrong about Paige? Few people from the king’s Court knew my name or where I lived on Earth. The remnants shouldn’t know a thing about Paige. Maybe she left her purse at my place, and the fae thought it was mine?

  “Don’t get on the highway,” I say suddenly, grabbing the steering wheel to keep Shane from veering toward the on-ramp.

  “Hey!” He swipes my hand away but stays on the access road. “We’re meeting Aren at the gate north of the city.”

  “We’re going to my friend’s house first. It’ll only take a minute.” I have to be certain Paige is really gone.

  I’m kind of surprised when he doesn’t
argue. We might be on the outskirts of Houston, but traffic is horrendous. It’s impossible to get through a single intersection in one minute. He follows my directions, though, and half an hour later we pull up in front of a town house that’s in the middle of a row of attached homes that all have the same white shutters, small balconies, and miniscule front porches. The only thing different is the color of the front doors. Paige’s is pink. I tell Shane to wait in the car as I climb out of the passenger seat.

  It takes a few steps before my muscles loosen up. They’re sore from the fight at my apartment, and my right leg throbs under my jeans when I put weight on it. Nothing’s broken, though; I think I just have a deep bruise on my thigh.

  A knot of dismay tightens in my stomach when I reach Paige’s pink door.

  “Please be home,” I whisper as I knock. After a few minutes pass with no answer, I step into the flower bed to the right of the porch and peek in through the window. Only a sliver of the living room is visible through a part in the curtains, but the little that I see doesn’t look good. Broken glass and something blue are scattered across the floor. It takes me a second to realize the latter are hundreds of tiny blue pebbles, the remains of Paige’s fishbowl, I think. She has a betta named Phil or Max or Johnny or something. She has trouble keeping them alive, so I can never keep track.

  “Is your friend not home?” Shane asks from the porch, not from the car where I told him to wait.

  “The remnants took her,” I say.

  Shane frowns. “Come again?”

  I step out of the flower bed, feeling sick. Since the fae don’t belong in this world, they’re able to turn their visibility on and off with a thought. Only humans who have the Sight are able to see them all the time; the rest of the world has no idea they exist. Paige won’t have any idea. I don’t know how she’d react if she was grabbed by invisible fae. She might think she’s caught in a nightmare or that she’s lost her mind or that she’s possessed or something. But maybe the remnants will let her see them. Maybe they’ll explain who they are and what’s happening.