Shadows and Shade Box Set

by Amanda Cashure

“Fine, you work on that, and I’ll keep researching,” Roarke says handing me off to Killian, like I weigh nothing.

  Darkness slings me over his shoulder, then turns toward the stream once more. “I’ll keep her safe,” he says without turning back, but his steps do slow. “I’ll even wash her.”

  I’m looking over Killian’s shoulder, which gives me the perfect view of Pax’s eyes flashing gold. But he doesn’t follow or issue another order. Roarke pats him on the shoulder and reluctantly Pax turns. Sometimes it’s weird the way these guys trust each other, and other times the things that set them off seem unexplainable. Not sure if that’s a male thing, a brother thing, or a Saber thing, or just a side effect of knowing me.

  “Why am I carrying you?” Killian mumbles.

  “Because I was contemplating killing Rose,” I mutter back.

  His body jolts with two sharp almost-laughs. “You stink.”

  “Thank you,” I drawl.

  “Onions. Jealousy burns like cutting onions.”

  Oh. “That actually explains a lot.”

  “Other people’s barely registers to me, but you. You make my eyes water. You’re jealous as fuck, and you can’t attack Rose. You can’t attack any of them.”

  “Yeah, Roarke thought that would be stupid too. I agree.” I leave out the part where I hadn’t planned on actually attacking – I was just thinking about it.

  Rose was helping me – and I was learning more with her in a few minutes than I’d learned in days with the guys. If I jumped at Rose, at least three of my guys would have joined in instantly. Well, maybe two – Seth would have found it funny… actually maybe just Roarke – Killian would have enjoyed watching her kick my ass, and Pax would be frozen.

  So really, I was screwed.

  “Why?” Killian asks.

  “No reason.”

  He makes a grunting noise – an ‘I don’t believe you’ sound.

  “I’m not telling you about it, Killian,” I say as he continues to walk us away from the cottage – up the stream.

  “I already know about it. I was watching,” he says.

  With two sudden, bounding steps we’re in the deepest part of the stream. The spot where the freezing-chuckin’-cold water is deeper than I can stand.

  “Killian!” I squeal, climbing higher on his shoulder and trying to push on his head like maybe I can climb all the way out of the water.

  “I told you, you stink,” he says, chuckles actually.

  He’s enjoying this.

  “It’s cold,” I manage, hugging onto him for dear life. I even try to plead with him using his weak spot. “And you’ll get my darts wet.”

  “I’ll oil them later.” Then he grips my hips and pushes me back – all the fight leaving me as I meet his clear emerald eyes.

  Clear. Bright. Green like a gemstone. None of the black at all. Like in this moment the Darkness isn’t spilling from his soul.

  I struggle to breathe as I look past the deep scar down his face, just those eyes. Then, those lips. Damn, I really want to kiss him right now.

  “Since you can’t swim, you’d better hold your breath,” he says.

  Then he lets go of me, and for a few terrifying seconds, my arms and legs flounder desperately.

  “Why?” I manage to gasp.

  “Your hair,” he says, putting his hand on my head and pushing me under.

  I try to scream, but I’m under too quickly and only manage strangled bubbles. He begins scrubbing at my hair with both hands. Bralls, it hurts.

  On the upside, he pushes me down far enough that my feet brush the pebbles and rocks on the bottom, and I manage to propel myself upward. Just as he gives up trying to hand-scrub my head. He grabs the front of my shirt and takes a few steps back so I can stand. Once I’ve stopped struggling.

  Then without hesitation, he rips his shirt off.

  I’m sure he does it quickly – grabs the hem, over his head, tosses it up on shore.

  But my half-frozen brain sees it in slow motion. Hand gripping the hem of his white cotton and now see-through shirt. My new favorite shirt. His bicep tensing. Pulling the shirt up to reveal muscle after muscle in the perfectly crystal-clear, spring-fed water – adonis belt, abs, man, does he have a lot of abs, chest. If I could whistle, this might be the perfect moment. The scar across his chest should remind me of my place, that this guy is deadly, but it doesn’t. Not one bit. Then his shirt is off, and my gaze trails up to his face.

  I feel like I’ve never seen him shirtless before – which I definitely have. I also feel like I might be about to hyperventilate… an odd sensation when the water’s so cold my jaw is clenching against it.

  Right now, I’m seriously contemplating diving on him – that’s how intensely my body wants to be against his.

  He’s smiling as he reaches under the water, pulls at the ties on his pants, and begins to take them off!

  “What are you doing?” I demand.

  “Someone put mud in my braies.”

  Crap. He’s getting naked. And there’s no other Elorsin nearby to rescue me. There is no one. I don’t know where Rose vanished to, but we’re completely alone.

  I’m stuck in the frozen water while Killian washes mud off his junk.

  “Killian, if you take your braies off, I’ll –”

  Too late. I push past him and struggle out of the water. His braies fly over my head and land with a squelch on top of his other clothes.

  The deeply amused laugh that bursts from him and echoes out through the domain takes me off guard.

  So off guard that I don’t even notice him getting out of the water until he has scooped me up and almost tosses me over his shoulder again. Which he can do far too easily, even while reaching down to grab his pile of clothes.

  “Killian, you’re naked,” I squeal.

  “I know. Don’t kick me.”

  “They’ll see you,” I growl, deciding not to get descriptive on what exactly I’m worried about the women seeing.

  Also deciding to exclude the fact that every inch of me is currently on fire. My frozen fingers are begging me to get my damn shirt off. My legs want desperately to wrap around his hips. Oh, damn I want him. Bad.

  His hand splays wide on the small of my back, pressing into me as he inhales deeply. The movement presses his lips to my neck in an almost kiss, and when he pulls back, some of the black has begun to fill his eyes again.

  “So?” he asks, his tone slow and deliberate… It takes me a second to realize he’s talking about not caring that the other Sabers could walk through those trees and see him.

  All of him!

  I kick and squirm a little indignantly, demanding, “Put me down.”

  He does, but possibly only because my foot’s almost level with his crotch.

  I smother my groan and keep my gaze up – Up, Shade. Eyes up.

  It’s harder than it sounds, but he’s pretty much holding his clothes in front of him. Not sure if that’s intentional or not though.

  “Braies on,” I order, yanking the clothes out of his hands.

  The shirt and pants fall to the ground, and I get the barest glimpse of the Seed of Darkness’ junk before spinning sharply and putting my back to him.

  “They’re not allowed to see you.”

  “Stop feeling jealous,” he grunts, then sniffs loudly.

  “Stop walking around naked then,” I growl back.

  “Deal,” he says, picking me up and draping me over his shoulders.

  His braies are back on, and his other clothes in the same hand as the one supporting me. Luckily, I’m already wet.

  He takes the stairs two at a time, jostling me unnecessarily before opening the door. The scent of baking bread washes over me. He wanders inside with easy grace and dumps me down on the floor. Splat, down hard, no warning, flat on my back.

  I groan, and don’t try to get up.

  “You’re just as possessive as Pax,” he says. “And you can’t have any of us.”

  A set of clothes f
lies over the back of the couch at me.

  “I won’t fit into your clothes,” I shout back.

  “They’re Roarke’s pants. Hurry up before I take them back and decide slow drying is better for your immune system.”

  That gets me moving. I check that his back is turned, and that we’re alone, then peel out of my wet clothes. Shimmying into Roarke’s pants and a clean white shirt that must be Killian’s, because it could be a dress. I search the pockets of my wet stuff first, pulling the egg and the knife out and sticking them into my new pockets before throwing the wet stuff at him He lets my wet things smack into his back then fall to the floor.

  “Feel better?” he asks.

  I collapse onto the couch, too busy feeling wounded to get up. “Nope. You’re stuck with me,” I call out, basically to the ceiling because that’s exactly what I’m looking at right now.

  My bubble wall brushes against my arm, and I jolt – trying to get upright, trying to get over the back of the seat, and failing. The wall presses too fast, and I’m not quick enough.

  I try to call out to Killian, but my face is pressed so hard into the padded fabric that I can’t even breathe.

  Then the force moves away, and I fall back, gasping.

  Killian’s face appears over the back of the couch.

  “Four steps,” he mutters.

  “You take big steps,” I gasp.

  “Roarke,” Killian bellows, making me jolt and cover my ears.

  He doesn’t shout anything else, doesn’t need to, because immediately Roarke pounds down the spiral staircase – running to the bottom step then pausing to look between Killian and me.

  “Is the bread ready?” he asks, a crease to his forehead that says he hopes we’re only talking about bread.

  I wish.

  Pax and Seth are quickly behind him, then pushing past. Pax looks pissed as hell until he’s scanned the room and found no visible dangers. Then his gaze lands on me and softens just a little.

  “Explain,” Killian says.

  I pull myself onto my knees, resting my arms on the back of the couch and my chin on my arms.

  “What’s the problem?” I ask. I mean, aside from me nearly getting squished.

  “Bubble. Shrinking,” Killian says. “Four steps.”

  “Five,” I correct. “Don’t steal my steps, Killian, I need them.”

  I don’t think they understand the layers of fear inside me, but bringing them up and talking about them every few hours isn’t helping.

  Roarke looks awkward, like he knows something they don’t, but he’s behind them and clearly not going to volunteer his information. When no one else says anything to move this conversation along, I add, “The bubble is shrinking, and we don’t know why. I now have five steps, and we don’t know how – oh that sounded pretty, I could write one of your mother’s prophecies.”

  Seth snorts, while Pax and Killian both fold their arms over their chests with we-are-not-impressed looks on their faces.

  Roarke’s holding a book – my book. Or at least the book I claimed from his shelves back at the White Castle.

  I wriggle my fingers toward it.

  “Knowing the number of steps doesn’t change anything,” I say, trying to end one conversation and quickly start another. “Can you read me the verse – the one next to the Origin Spring?”

  He flicks the book open to the page his thumb was keeping marked, so he was reading that page too. Which is interesting.

  “What looks like stone is living root. What looks like water is living blood. What looks like down can be up. What looks like death can be life. Here grows the one thing that can power them all. When this life ceases to flow, all life will go.” Roarke’s finger traces the page as he reads.

  “And tell me why I’m not out there looking for this thing too?” I ask.

  “Because we’re out there with the other triunes, and we don’t want them to get a whiff of your bubble,” Roarke says. “And because you’re lucky Pax’s even letting you out of his sight with Sabers being attacked.”

  Thane offers a growls of agreement, and there’s no arguing that one, but I try anyway, “I’d really like to help.”

  “There are ten capable Sabers out there now, sweeping the woods and looking for the stream. We’ll find it,” Seth says.

  Roarke doesn’t add anything, just turns on his heels and starts back up the stairs.

  “I’m going back to work,” he says when he’s almost at the top.

  “Stay,” Pax orders pointing at me, then points at Seth with a potion in his hand and adds, “Come,” and waves toward the door, then he disappears outside.

  Seth winks at me before obeying Pax’s order.

  I have my nose in a book, Kitten’s book, with the Page Wiping Potion nearby to make alterations and a pen to make notes, when Seth lets himself into the attic. He goes straight through the workspace to the window seat and makes himself comfortable. He’s not a little guy, and he’s effectively cut off half the light in the room. I put my book down and flick the flint on one of the lanterns hanging from the wall.

  “Location Potion didn’t work?” I ask.

  “Nope.”

  I refrain from saying ‘I told you so,’ but I’m certainly thinking it.

  Pax makes himself comfortable too, upturning a crate in a quick motion that manages to contain the dried herbs inside, and then sitting on the thing.

  “Okay,” I mutter, leaning back against the bench.

  “Tell me the prophecy again,” Pax says, motioning with his fingers in a ‘give it to me’ kind of sign.

  “Wait until your grief has passed, then – Seek the remnant beyond the border.

  Speak to a man named Martin but believe the word of a bird.

  Let your reflection go hazy in clear waters and see instead through a gray lens.

  In Silvari glass is a blade that can pass, a soul that can kneel, and a world that can heal.

  This is not a battle that can be won. Before this time can pass, the mortal soul from its beginnings cannot last. There is no way a soul can rule and live.

  Because I heard what the Origin Spring said to the tallest forest tree – the key will be in the last of me,” The words tumble off my lips, no thought needed.

  “In Silvari glass is a blade that can pass, a soul that can kneel, and a world that can heal. This is not a battle that can be won. Before this time can pass, the mortal soul from its beginnings cannot last. There is no way a soul can rule and live. I don’t understand – that means we all need to be dead. We can save the world, but we all have to die. That’s what it has always meant to me,” Pax says, repeating his lines in the prophecy under his breath.

  “Why are we talking about this?” I ask.

  “We went outside the barrier to get an update and had a slightly longer chat with Eliijah,” Seth says.

  “Any sign of activity out there? I’m worried about an ambush,” I interrupt.

  “They can set up an ambush all they want; we’re in here, and they are not. That’s if they even find us – which, since no one knows we’re here, would be impossible. Jada sealed a compass for loyal Elites only. This location is foolproof,” Pax practically snaps, trying to convince himself as much as me.

  “Oh,” I say, drawing out the word to try and make him take a breath. “I hadn’t realized she kept the location secret. That does change things.”

  “She’s an asset. I didn’t ask her to, didn’t even think of it, and I had no idea either, until she arrived,” Pax says.

  “Which was when I was waking Kitten up,” I muse. Pax met Jada outside the barrier using a key to get her in, then Kitten attacked her with an apple.

  “How did she get away with that? Every seal she uses is tracked and reported. If she’s caught using an unauthorized seal, she’ll be put in a cell, or worse,” I say.

  “Apparently Lithael has taken to using them,” Pax says.

  Seth’s quiet in the background, meaning this is news to him too.


  “Using them for what?” I ask.

  Pax shrugs one shoulder. “She doesn’t know, only that the locations are between the Straight and the Glass Makers District, or near enough to either of them to be related to the Straight or the glass makers in some way.”

  I sigh, stretching my neck back then to each side in slow, relaxing movements, saying, “Not our current problem.”

  “We shouldn’t exclude the possibility that Lithael or, ah, any of the Tanakan Seeds know where we are,” Seth says.

  “Agreed,” Thane snaps.

  “I disagree,” Pax snaps at Thane. “Aside from the fact that the border is their target and they’re somehow working to weaken it, there is no reason, no person, who could have leaked the information. Dumb luck –”

  “Or Chaos,” Seth interrupts.

  “Okay, moving on, you said Eliijah had news,” I jump in, almost yelling.

  Seth drags his gaze from Pax and their standoff to answer me. “A whole village to the north has vanished.”

  My breath catches in my throat. “Vanished?”

  “Gone, all of it. Some of the people survived.”

  “I don’t understand, what exactly is gone? Not the buildings?”

  Pax nods, very slowly, like my questions are annoying him. “Every structure has vanished.”

  “Cataclysm.” The word whispers over my tongue.

  That’s the only thing it could be. The only living kind of Seed that can destroy anything it wants with one touch – except Silvari glass. They can remove a person, animal, structure, anything else from existence. Only present existence though – it would be scary if there was a seed that could erase things further. Scary, and thankfully impossible. DeathSeeds and Cataclysms are enough evil for one lifetime.

  “How far away?” I drag my mind back to the present problem. “Still far enough not to feel her threat?” Not just yet. Not until we deal with this bubble.

  Thane suddenly surges forward. “Everything is a threat. Hyll, Lithael, every other Seed, every other Saber. All of them!”

  “Look on the bright side,” I say, trying to calm the glowing, growling beast. “We don’t have to worry about Asanta, and we’ve gone all day without knocking Kitten out.”

  He growls louder. “Who is Asanta?”