Shadow Dancer

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Shadow Dancer Page 8

by Macie Cage


  Caiden maintained his smile, his gaze sliding to where Evander stood. The Prince gave a slight shake of his head and Evander sighed, releasing his ability and sheathing the sword. The man jumped.

  “You! You’re that-that assassin everyone’s been—! Your Highness, please stay back!”

  Evander tilted his head to the side and watched as the old man positioned himself in front of the Prince. Even so, the elder was shaking from head to toe, eyes wide and clearly terrified.

  Caiden put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Sir, please calm down. Could you explain what’s going on?”

  “But—!”

  “He isn’t going to hurt you. I promise. If you would please…” Caiden gently herded the elder into the house and Evander followed, perching on the edge of the bed and doing his best not to scare the old man.

  “Well, first, please let me say it is such a blessing to see you alive and well, Your Highness,” the man babbled as Caiden helped him into a chair, taking the bags from him.

  “Thank you,” the Prince replied with a smile that made Evander roll his eyes. He had no idea how Caiden had managed to learn how to handle himself, but that was a court smile if he ever saw one. Automatic, pleasant, and completely empty.

  “His Majesty’s advisor has taken the throne as regent while you were gone. Waiting for your return, I’m sure. He expressed great urgency in finding you alive and bringing you home.”

  “I’m sure,” Caiden replied dryly.

  The old man didn’t seem to catch on to the underlying animosity. “He has given the search for you top priority after, well, after…” He stared fearfully at Evander.

  “Why do you fear him?” Caiden asked.

  “He… well, I’m sure he can’t be the one since he is with you, but… his likeness is all over the Kingdom. It is said that the Prince’s own servant was responsible for the assassinations. Lord Ansom said that he was killed, though his body was not retrieved. We were all ordered to report anyone fitting his description.”

  Evander and Caiden shared a look before the Prince returned his attention to the old man.

  “He is the only reason I got out of the castle alive. I assure you, he has my complete confidence.”

  “Oh, I’m sure, Your Highness. Why have you been hiding here, if I may ask? I-I’m honored that you chose to stay here, of course. You are very welcome to, Your Highness.”

  Caiden sighed, and Evander could see his annoyance with being addressed in such a roundabout way. “I’m avoiding the assassin that killed my family. Do you know if there is any kind of resistance to Ansom’s rule? Any survivors from the castle?”

  “Well there are a few, a group of knights and some nobles.”

  “Do you know where they are?”

  “They seem to be hiding in the capital. I-I’ve only heard rumors.”

  “I need you to tell them where to find me. I must meet with them.”

  “W-well, of course, Your Highness. I’d be delighted to assist.”

  In the end, Evander carefully helped the man store his things, trying not to scare him. He wasn’t entirely successful. The elder was clearly still suspicious of him, so in the end he settled for just steering clear of the man.

  They insisted that the old bat have the bed, with Evander sitting up while Caiden curled up on a makeshift bed of blankets in the corner by the fire. Evander paced every once in a while, stirring the fire to keep the room relatively warm. Also to make sure that neither of them would wake at the sound of movement. If they fell asleep to his noise, they wouldn’t wake up to it.

  A few hours later, he deemed Caiden deep enough into his dreams that he wouldn’t notice anything amiss. He quietly picked up the dagger that they used for gutting and skinning. Caiden wasn’t going to like it, but if the man said anything to anyone about where they were, Ansom’s elites would be knocking on their door in less than a week.

  Evander couldn’t remember the man’s name, he didn’t want to. He was still trying to bury the thought of the family that the elder had left behind. A daughter whose husband had died, with a child and an infant to care for. The smile on his wrinkled face as he recalled his grandchildren… Evander crushed the memory and tried to bury it. It had to be done. He had to protect the heir.

  He looked down at the thin, frail figure, covered by thick quilts and still shivering. So weak. He flipped the dagger over in his hand, adjusting his grip.

  He hesitated.

  He grit his teeth, his knuckles going white over the hilt. It would only take one strike. That’s all. Painless. He wouldn’t even know, wouldn’t feel anything.

  Evander shifted, slowly moving into a satisfying position over the sleeping elder.

  Caiden would be heartbroken. Idiot Prince.

  He relaxed, silently cursing and grinding his teeth in frustration. He could only imagine that this was how the hunting dogs felt while pulling at their leashes. He turned away from the bed and silently made his way back to his seat, replacing the dagger as he’d found it.

  The rustle of fabric made him turn towards Caiden, finding those blue eyes watching him before he silently turned over and settled to sleep again. Not a word was spoken and for a moment, Evander was almost convinced that the man had been sleeping with his eyes open. Yet he knew better. The man was too tense, too still where he laid to truly be sleeping.

  Evander chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment. Pain in the ass.

  He sat heavily at the edge of Caiden’s makeshift bed, leaning into the body behind him. When the Prince didn’t acknowledge him, he sighed out loud and stretched out his legs, putting more of his weight against the man. When that still didn’t work, he tugged at the quilt that was wrapped around him.

  Finally, the man squirmed and shifted, unwrapping himself enough to leave some room and moving closer to the wall. Evander chuckled, and they took turns pushing and prodding, pulling and elbowing until they both had settled comfortably.

  Evander had no real intentions of sleeping, but he knew that Caiden would sleep soundly knowing that he didn’t intend to kill the old man. That and it was cold in the cabin, especially as the fire started to die.

  So, as he listened to the Prince’s breathing even out into sleep, Evander laid still and tried to think of how he was going to convince Caiden to move somewhere else as soon as the old hunter left. Just thinking about the task left him with a headache.

  Seven

  Month of the Maiden 16, 421 HE

  A butterfly danced in front of him, the bark of the courtyard tree a solid and comfortable presence at his back. The small creature fluttered downward and the weight in his lap shifted and squirmed.

  He smiled and looked down at the small child that he held, tiny hands reaching for the insect with a refreshing sense of wonder. He pressed a kiss to the matt of black hair and the toddler giggled, his head tilting back to grin up at him. Golden eyes, just like his own, sparkled with laughter.

  “Master.”

  He turned to the sullen sounding speaker, finding a young man standing just out of range. Another one that looked very much like himself. Black hair and eyes the color of whiskey.

  “What may I do for you, Ansom? Has the Prince escaped from you again?” he chuckled. The glare he earned made him grin.

  “Sir, he is completely unsuitable. All he ever does is run around. He isn’t even prepared for his first child.”

  He sighed. “I did tell his Majesty that the arranged marriage wasn’t going to be a good idea. Especially at this age.”

  “He should be prepared to inherit the throne. It’s only a month away! Still, he shirks his duties.”

  “And what would you have me do?” He smiled placatingly at the man.

  Ansom glared at him again. “Well, for starters you can stop playing around with the child,” he spat. “We have our rules in place for a reason. Besides, how do you expect to train him into one of us if you coddle him?”

  He looked down at the child in his arms. He was completely fascin
ated by the butterfly which had landed on his toes. He didn’t move, didn’t startle it, just watched with a restraint that was rare in a child of his age.

  He wondered idly if Ansom was jealous. He had to admit he wasn’t exactly proud of his past demeanor. His patience had been learned with age, his master’s teachings losing their potency as he watched over his charge and grew older himself. He’d learned the error of his ways, but it would seem that his old bitterness had already corrupted some of their members. It was his greatest mistake.

  His arms tightened around the child in front of him, the movement causing the object of his fascination to make a quick escape.

  “Bye-bye, flutter!” A tiny hand waved at the creature.

  “Come along, Evander. Let’s show Ansom what you’ve learned today.”

  Maybe there was still time to fix this.

  Evander frowned, rubbing at his eyes as he sat up. Something was weird. A sound reached his ears. A gentle tune, the quiet chime of a music box coming to an end. He threw off the blanket and jumped to his feet, attempting to locate it. A clattering sound echoed through the room as a small wooden box fell to the floor.

  His heart sank into his stomach. He slowed his breathing and held still, listening for anything amiss as he slowly turned. That box was not there when they went to sleep the night before. Caiden didn’t own such a thing and it hadn’t been amongst the old man’s belongings. Yet, there was no one there. He stared down at the small, plain box.

  “Eva? What’re you doing?” Caiden yawned as he sat up.

  He didn’t answer, crouching, balancing on the balls of his feet as he slowly reached for the thing. It fit snugly in his palm and he slowly turned it over, finding the key slot to wind it but not the key.

  “Eva?” Caiden leaned over to look at what he was doing, and Evander looked up as the Prince also froze. The man looked around as he had and just like him, he found no one in the cabin.

  Caiden quietly got out of bed and walked to the door, shaking his head at Evander to say that the door was still bolted shut. He checked the windows with the same result, rubbing his hands over his crossed arms, shivering in the predawn chill.

  Evander hummed, running his fingers over the music box. The cold was settling into his body as well and the wood felt odd under his numbed touch. “Don’t bother,” he muttered. “Help me find the key to this.”

  “Eva, what the hell is going on? How did—?”

  “Help me find the key!” he snapped, and Caiden blinked at him, falling silent as he opened the windows to let in the early morning light.

  They searched for a while, but they kept the place meticulously clean and it quickly became obvious that the key to the music box wasn’t there.

  “Eva, what is that thing?”

  “A music box.” He held it up to show the Prince.

  “A music box? Aren’t those extremely rare? Where did it come from?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “How did someone get in here? Why did they leave it?”

  “I don’t know!” Evander glared at Caiden and his endless questions. “Maybe if you had listened to me when I said we have to leave then we wouldn’t have to worry about it!”

  “I keep telling you, what is the point of sitting around doing nothing? We need help, Eva. We need them to find us. We can’t exactly go through a border checkpoint with the whole Kingdom out looking for us!”

  “Ansom is going to find us, not your soldiers! For all we know, he could already be—!” He paused, looking down at the music box in his hand.

  Music Box. The ability to tie a memory to a tune, lock it away into a box. Anyone in contact with it while it was playing would be privy to the memory. It was an exceedingly useful ability for an assassin or a spy. It had been Malik’s ability.

  Blink. The ability to move through the ethereal plane. It was a lot like his own, except it allowed the user to move through walls, to walk invisible through a crowd as though they were a ghost. It was an ability that had been gifted to a servant woman who had gone with Malik and the old King when they’d left.

  “Get packed.” He grabbed his bag and gear, simultaneously getting dressed and packing with a haste that made Caiden stare.

  “But—”

  “We need to leave. Now.”

  Caiden joined him and soon they were out the door with the bare minimum of what they needed to simply survive.

  He stared around himself, wondering which way to go, when a shining glint caught his attention. A golden bauble, a music box key, hung by a thread from a tree branch, right next to the well-worn path that led straight back to the capital. The path they’d sent the old man down not four days ago.

  Evander snatched it and shoved it into a pocket. Fine, I get it it. Quit running away, right?

  “Who—?”

  “Malik. Or whoever the servant was that went with him.”

  “Ellen,” Caiden provided. Evander raised an eyebrow at him, and Caiden shrugged. “She was my father’s nurse. Father was under the impression that she and Malik were married, so it wasn’t a surprise when she left with him.”

  Evander stared at him for a moment before starting down the path.

  “Wait, so wouldn’t that make her your—?”

  “We need to move, Caiden,” Evander cut him off, moving quickly through the trees. They kept low, and Evander quietly explained his theory that the music box was functioning as a warning.

  “How do you figure?” Caiden muttered, just as quiet, waiting while Evander untangled himself from a thorn bush that had snagged his clothing.

  “Well,” he tore himself free and stumbled off balance for a moment, “it was a memory of Ansom. I can’t think of any other reason why she’d —assuming this was Ellen— would track us down and leave it there.”

  “Why didn’t she just wake us up? That doesn’t make sense. If it was that urgent, why wouldn’t she just talk to us?”

  “I don’t know.” Evander growled in frustration as he almost tripped over a branch. What the hell? He glared at the offending thing for a moment.

  They were well beyond their usual hunting grounds and while it would be faster if he used his ability, he had no idea where they were in relation to the city and he didn’t really want to run into Ansom while jumping. Something was strange though.

  “Eva?” Caiden asked.

  “I swear this wasn’t here a moment ago.” He kicked at the branch.

  Caiden frowned, turning to look back down the path where they’d come from. “And that bush doesn’t naturally lie that close to the path.” He turned back to face him and his eyes widened, hand going to his sword, mouth opening to warn him.

  Evander twisted and ducked, barely avoiding a slice to the throat. He threw himself back, away from the attacker, and felt himself snarl at the man who stood in their way. He was disgustingly familiar, tall, and unnaturally thin with ratty brown hair and a rat-like face to match. His mouth was curled into a sneer.

  “Oh, how the great have fallen, Evander.” He chuckled, lifting his head and letting out a shrill whistle. “Though, I must admit, I’m surprised to see you alive.”

  “Ben,” Evander growled, his skin prickling with animosity.

  “I knew I should’ve had him killed.” Caiden sounded downright murderous, and Evander felt his face heat with the knowledge that the Prince had also been aware of that.

  “Ah, so that was you.” Ben grinned, “Should’ve known when you banished me. Too bad. Once that order was given, I was going to have so much fun tormenting you to death, Evander.”

  Order? He’d always assumed that it had been part of the Harrowing. It was a hazing-type ritual that encouraged the younger members of the Clan to be extremely paranoid and light sleepers. Some people were never targeted, others got caught multiple times. No holds barred. If someone managed to get the jump on you, you were at their mercy. If you caught them, you could do as you pleased with them.

  Ben’s ability made his participation in the Harrow
ing a cheat. Silent Step made it nigh impossible to tell when he was skulking around. Evander had been beaten badly on several occasions. Usually in the middle of the night, he’d wake up to a sack being thrown over his head. He honestly thought he was going to die.

  It had become destructive. It wasn’t just in the night anymore. If he wasn’t careful, he’d get jumped and dragged into the Inner Castle or anywhere that people didn’t usually wander. He’d become so paranoid that he jumped at every shadow and was so sleep deprived that he could barely form a coherent thought.

  He had finally collapsed into sleep when he was once again woken by the usual beating. He hadn’t had the strength to fight back anymore. Just when he thought he really was about to die, it stopped. He’d fainted after that but when he woke, Caiden was throwing a tantrum. The only fit he’d ever had.

  The Prince had demanded that Ben be brought to charge for some slight, finding every flaw, every reason to banish the man. Evander had been relieved. He was never able to sleep soundly unless Caiden was with him, but after that the other Clan members only tried once more to get him.

  He’d left them beaten and bloodied, their unconscious forms thrown rather unceremoniously in the middle of the training room. He’d even hog tied them so they’d have to be found in order to be freed.

  Evander broke free of the memories as Ben rushed towards him, stopping short to avoid Caiden’s strike and ducking down to lash out at Evander. He avoided the blade easily. Ben wasn’t one of Ansom’s elites. He must have been called on to act as a scout.

  They had to get to an open space. It was too easy for the Clan to hide amongst the trees and pick them off. They had to get rid of Ben quickly before the others caught up. It was a strange feeling, as Ben laughed at him, played with him. Underestimated him. He couldn’t even bring himself to be angry. There was no need for vengeance, no feeling of anything other than a cold sense of duty.

  The man in front of him wanted them dead, wanted Caiden dead. He was no longer the terror that Evander remembered. He was clumsy and slow, his strength nowhere near what it used to be. Caiden lunged at him and Ben jumped back to dodge, stiffening in shock as Evander’s blade sank into his back. Evander let the man slide off of his sword, bending to grab the bandolier of throwing knives from the fallen assassin and slip it over his own head, tightening the straps.

 

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