Sea of Shadows

by Kelley Armstrong

  Shadow stalkers. Death worms. Thunder hawks.

  The words passed through her mind and brought the rest tumbling after, all the memories of the last days, of why she wasn't at home in Edgewood, of what happened there. It all rushed back, and she started to shake.

  "Shhh," the creature said. "Don't make noise or they'll beat us. They have no sympathy for tears."

  Ashyn stared at the thing. Not a shadow stalker. Some new monster raised by sorcerers, unleashed on the empire?

  A monster that talks? Kindly? Comforts me and warns me?

  "W-what are you?" Ashyn asked.

  Anger flashed in the thing's dark eyes. "A girl, like you."

  Ashyn glanced down at her own hand, as if expecting to suddenly see it covered in warts. Of course it wasn't.

  The creature's voice softened. "It is a deformity of the skin. I am a girl, even if I do not look like one. My name is Belaset. I am nearly eighteen summers. I live in the imperial city."

  Ashyn's cheeks flared red hot. "I--I'm so sorry. I . . . I have never met . . . I was confused."

  "And your name?" Belaset prompted.

  "Ashyn of Edgewood."

  "Edgewood." Belaset frowned. Then she nodded. "The village that guards the Forest of the Dead."

  Gone now, Ashyn thought. All gone. But she did not say that. There was no reason. Instead she only nodded and lowered her gaze so the girl wouldn't see the pain there. Then her head shot up, and she looked around wildly.

  "Where are we? I . . . There was a dart. Tova. Where's--"

  "If you mean the great dog, I saw them bring him on a cart with you. Where did you get such a huge beast?"

  "He's a . . ." Again, too much to explain under the circumstances. "He's a special breed. But where are we?" She looked around again, focusing. "A wagon. We're in a wagon. But it's not moving."

  "They're preparing to return for your sister."

  "My sister?"

  "They want both of you, of course. Alone, you are exotic, but no more so than dozens of Northern girls in the city. It is the pair that is unique--because you look so alike. Some believe you're twins, which isn't possible, of course, but I'm sure that's what the trader will tell King Machek."

  Machek. King of Denovoi, a small land to the west of the empire. There were dozens of such kingdoms beyond the empire's borders. Lands the empire did not care to--or could not--conquer. So why did she remember this particular one?

  She heard Moria's voice, talking to village children she'd caught stealing or striking a smaller one.

  Do you know what happens to little savages who mistreat others? They grow tails like monkeys, and then they're sold to King Machek. For his zoo. Have you heard of the Denovoi zoo? They say he keeps monsters there, locked in cages, and people come and pay money to see them.

  Ashyn looked at Belaset, at her scaled face and arms.

  "No," she whispered.

  "You know who he is, then?"

  "The zoo. They mean to sell me and my sister to him. For his zoo."

  Belaset laughed softly. "No, child. You're bound for his harem. King Machek collects oddities of all sorts. Some for his zoo. Some for his bed. As for where I'll end up, that has yet to be seen. While the choice should be obvious, the king apparently has . . . unusual tastes."

  Ashyn tried to process all that, gave up, and shoved it aside. "They've made a grave mistake. I have to tell them who I am."

  "It won't matter who your family is, child--"

  "No, who I am. Who my sister is. We are twins. The Seeker and Keeper of Edgewood."

  "Seeker and . . ." Belaset stared, much as Ashyn must have stared at her moments ago. "The hound. I . . . had forgotten the stories."

  "There are a Seeker and Keeper in the imperial city as well. Have you not seen them?"

  "I'm casteless, child. I would not dare show my face anyplace they would be."

  "Casteless?"

  Ashyn had heard of such a thing, though there were no casteless people in Edgewood. They were the lowest of the low--those not permitted an occupation.

  "My parents cast me out when my skin began to harden. I was allowed to live but stripped of my caste, as I was clearly cursed by the goddess for some sin or other, though I was but five summers old."

  Deformity was believed to be a punishment. But a child of five could not possibly have committed a sin grave enough to deserve this.

  "We need to tell them who I am," Ashyn said. "Harming me is an affront to the goddess."

  Belaset laughed. "You truly are a child, aren't you? Do you think the king of Denovoi cares for the goddess of our empire? Now I suspect the slave trader knows exactly who you and your sister are. He would not speak too loudly of it, for there are men in his employ who might object, but he will be rubbing his hands, imagining the fortune that is to come. King Machek has no love for Emperor Tatsu. How much will he pay to be able to tell the great man that a young Seeker and Keeper warm his bed?"

  "We need to escape, then."

  "And we will, when we reach Denovoi. This is my plan, and I'll gladly take you and your sister with me if you help."

  "No, we must escape now."

  Belaset shook her bald head. "It sounds as if the other men have left to fetch your sister, but there is still an armed warrior outside our door. To escape, we would need--"

  Ashyn pulled her dagger from beneath her cloak. "It seems they did not think to search a mere girl."

  "A blade? And you can use it?"

  "Adequately."

  Belaset nodded slowly. "Yes, then. We can call the guard in. I will create a distraction, and you will slit his throat."

  "S-slit--?"

  Belaset's eyes flashed with impatience. "You said you can use it, did you not?"

  "Yes, but I have never killed a man." I've never stabbed anything more than a pig carcass. "Perhaps we could just disable him."

  "So he can cry for help? No, child, he must be killed. I'll do it while you create the distraction. When the guard brought you in, he clearly found your looks pleasing. I caught him stroking your hair as he laid you on the mat. That's how you'll distract him. Use your wiles."

  "Wiles?"

  Ashyn was sure she looked almost as shocked as she had when Belaset suggested she slit the man's throat. I truly am a child. I can't even save myself.

  Ashyn took a deep breath. "I can distract him."

  Forty-five

  As they prepared, Ashyn got a better sense of the situation from Belaset. They were in a wagon from one of the trains they'd passed earlier that day. Apparently, the slave trader had spotted the girls and realized they were alike--in his profession, he would have a much keener eye than the average traveler.

  He'd cut Belaset's wagon from the train and returned with a few mercenaries, planning to take the girls at night. That's why Ronan seemed to be asleep at his post--he'd been unconscious from a dart. They'd likely planned to use darts on the others as they slept, but then Ashyn and Tova woke. They'd brought them back and returned for Moria and Daigo.

  Now Belaset had Ashyn remove her cloak, pull her hair over her shoulders, and undo the top button on her tunic. Ashyn would have been fine with all that, but then Belaset insisted on a second button and tugged her tunic down until Ashyn was certain if she leaned over, her breasts would be on full display. That was, she supposed, the idea, but her cheeks still blazed at the thought.

  "How do you do that?" Belaset said.

  "Do what?"

  "Redden your cheeks."

  Belaset reached over and pinched them hard with her scaly fingers. Ashyn tried not to shrink at her touch.

  "There," Belaset said. "You look very sweet and shy. Men like that. I worked at a brothel doing chores for the women, and men were always asking for virgins."

  "Brothel?" Ashyn said. "Is that like a courtesan house?"

  Belaset laughed. "Not exactly, child. Come now. We must move quickly, before they take your sister."

  Ashyn knocked on the wagon door. "Hello? Is someone out there?"
>
  It took a moment for the guard to answer.

  "Yes?" he said.

  "I'm unwell," she said.

  "It's the dart," he said. "It will wear off soon."

  "I--I'm going to be ill. Do you have something for me to . . . use? I don't want to be sick in here. I'm afraid I'll wake . . . the thing in here with me."

  Ashyn hadn't wanted to say it that way, but Belaset insisted. If she called her a girl or used her name, it would be clear they'd been speaking, and the guard would be wary.

  "Is there a bucket?" Ashyn asked. Belaset had said there was, hanging from the wagon, so the captives could relieve themselves.

  The guard grunted. She heard the bucket clatter against the wood. He opened the door just enough to pass the bucket through. Ashyn pulled it into the gap so the guard couldn't close the door.

  Now it was time to use her wiles. Did she even have wiles? She doubted it, but she could feel the guard's gaze fixed on those opened buttons, on the pale skin beneath.

  Pretend I'm a maiden in a tale, and this is my warrior love, slipping to my door for a few stolen moments.

  She leaned forward, letting her tunic open more, her hair tumbling over it, and she didn't need to fake the blushing cheeks or shy gaze as she looked up into his face. He was not much older than she, his own cheeks darkening as he stared at her open tunic.

  He's only a boy. We can't do this.

  I'll find another way.

  "I . . . I thought I heard something in here," she whispered, as if trying not to wake Belaset. "A snake or a rat. Could you take a look?"

  She gazed up into his eyes. Not that there was much use in it. His attention hadn't left her open neckline. She steeled herself and leaned over farther.

  "Please," she said. "I'd be so grateful."

  He nodded, his gaze not lifting until she backed onto the pallet. The move was not so much seduction as necessity--the wagon was only big enough to hold the wide sleeping mat. But when she backed onto it, his breath caught and he started forward, as if she were pulling him into her bed. He glanced over at Belaset, who was feigning sleep.

  "Where did you hear the noise, miss?" he asked, his voice thick.

  "Up here. At the head of the mat."

  He knelt on the pallet, his gaze on her. Then he put his hands down carefully, ready to crawl onto it, watching for any sign that she was going to stop him. When she gave none, he started forward.

  I'll pretend I'm going to let him kiss me. Then I'll grab his hair and knock him unconscious. We won't need to kill--

  Belaset sprang up and grabbed the guard by the hair.

  "Knock him--" Ashyn began.

  The blade slashed.

  "No!"

  It was too late. The guard's throat split before he could pull his blade. He gurgled blood. Ashyn stared in horror as Belaset grabbed her arm and yanked her toward the door.

  "Hurry, child!"

  Belaset pulled Ashyn outside. Ashyn resisted at first but quickly realized there was nothing she could do. She tumbled out the wagon door, hitting the ground. The night was silent and still.

  "Tova," she said. "I need to find--"

  "Your dog? We can't worry about him. Hurry!"

  "No, go on. Keep the dagger. I'll . . ." She swallowed. "I'll take the guard's."

  Belaset shook her head. "There's no time. Find your dog quickly. He can't be far."

  Tova was right under the wagon. Sound asleep, still unconscious from the dart. As Ashyn shook him, her heart pounded.

  He leaped up with a snort, and she threw her arms around his broad neck.

  "There's no time for that," Belaset said. "Hurry!"

  Belaset raced off. Ashyn untied Tova and caught up. She had no idea which way to go--the plains all looked the same to her--but she trusted Belaset. They ran until they reached a patch of scraggly bushes. Belaset crouched behind them.

  "Here's where we part, child. The road is that way." She pointed. "I trust you can find your camp?"

  "Come with me," Ashyn said. "You'll be safer. We're all armed. My sister is well trained with a blade, and we have a warrior escort. We'll take you back to the city."

  "There is nothing for me in the city."

  "Then we'll take you someplace safe."

  "You've been kind, but I'm going my own way, Ashyn of Edgewood. I trust you'll allow me to take this blade."

  The request caught Ashyn off guard. It was a fine dagger, one she'd used since she was a child. If Belaset wanted a blade, she should have gone back for the guard's, when Ashyn mentioned it. As soon as she hesitated, she felt shamed. Ashyn could easily get another.

  "Of course," she said. "Take it. Please."

  "And that ring?"

  "Ring? I . . . I am sorry, but I cannot part with that. It was my mother's."

  "I think I have earned it, child."

  "My father left it for me. When he died. Barely seven nights ago." Ashyn heard the edge in her voice and the snap in her words. Yet there wasn't an inkling of understanding in Belaset's eyes, much less shame.

  "You can buy many rings," the girl said. "I will take that one, in payment for my services."

  "No, you will not--"

  Belaset lunged. Ashyn staggered back. Tova grabbed Belaset by the blade arm, and she let out a hiss of shock, as if she'd forgotten the hound was there. He whipped her off her feet, Ashyn's blade bouncing to the ground. Then he retrieved the dagger gingerly by the handle and returned it to Ashyn.

  "I deserve that ring," Belaset said. Her voice remained calm, as if simply requesting her due. A simple act of necessity, devoid of emotion. "I deserve it. I rescued you."

  Ashyn gave a short laugh. "No, you helped me escape, using my blade, and in return, you earned your freedom, which you would not have gotten otherwise. I owe you nothing but my thanks. However, I will give you the dagger. Stay where you are. I'll walk away and leave it on the ground between us. When I whistle, you may retrieve it. If you make a move before that, I will set Tova on you, and this time, he will not be so gentle."

  "All right."

  Belaset's agreement came quickly--too quickly--which made Ashyn certain the girl was planning to trick her, but Belaset stayed still as Ashyn walked away and set down the blade. Even when Ashyn whistled softly, Belaset only rose and walked toward the dagger. When Ashyn glanced back, the girl was bending to retrieve it. She saw Ashyn and lifted a hand, as if in farewell. Then she turned and loped off across the dark plain.

  Forty-six

  As soon as they left Belaset behind, Tova started off, presumably heading for camp.

  Ashyn kept looking about, creeping quickly, until she saw a figure crouched behind a bush. It was not apparent at first, and she was certain he thought the bush hid him, but spring had not yet brought the bush into full bloom, and she could make out a crouching figure through its half-bare branches.

  She froze. Her fingers fumbled under her cloak for her dagger . . . before she remembered she no longer had it.

  "Tova!" she whispered.

  He glanced at her. She motioned at the bush, where the figure was now rising. Tova looked over at it, then back at her, as if to say, So?

  The faint moonlight lit the figure. It was Ronan.

  "Ashyn?" Ronan's whisper crossed the distance between them.

  "Who else would it be?" she whispered as she walked over. "Tova gives me away nicely."

  "It was not a question so much as a greeting, lest you decide to put Moria's dagger-throwing lessons into practice."

  "I doubt you'd be in much danger even if I did."

  He chuckled softly. His hand went out, and she thought he was going to take hers and draw her to him, but he only beckoned her close, then laid his hand on her arm.

  "It seems I fell asleep at my post." He flashed a wry smile. "But if you don't tell Gavril, I won't tell Moria that you got lost relieving yourself."

  "Got lost?" She gave him a hard look. "Is that truly what you thought?"

  Tova harrumphed, equally offended.

&nbs
p; "You were knocked unconscious with a dart," she said. "I was kidnapped."

  "Kidnapped?"

  "How long was I gone?" Ashyn shook her head and waved for him to follow Tova, who'd started back toward camp. "I'll explain to everyone at--" She stopped and spun on him. "You did not realize I was taken?"

  "I didn't, and I apologize--"

  "No, I mean--Moria and Gavril. You didn't wake them?"

  "I wanted to find you before they realized I'd--" He swore.

  Ashyn was already running.

  The slave trader's men were at the camp. Ashyn could hear the commotion before they were close enough to see anything. When she tried to race ahead, Ronan caught her cloak.

  "We'd do better to surprise them," he said. "Come this way, along the stream."

  They ran down into the shallow gully. Ronan told her to follow in his footsteps, on the hard ground, so their boots wouldn't squelch. The gully was neck high, meaning Ashyn could still see over the edge. It seemed forever before she spotted the horses, looking about as if startled. When she gazed over the field, she saw figures at the camp.

  Those figures had gone silent now. Their early oaths and curses seemed to have been Moria and Gavril as they were woken from sleep. And perhaps the raiders as they realized they'd lost the element of surprise.

  Ashyn and Ronan continued running silently until the figures became clear--Moria, Daigo, and Gavril, surrounded by armed men. Ashyn tried to dart past Ronan, but again, he held her back.

  "Race in there, and you'll distract Moria and Gavril as much as those mercenaries."

  Causing a distraction hadn't actually been her plan. She'd had no plan at all but to run in, armed with Ronan's dagger. Even that would be pointless--they were still several hundred paces off.

  Ronan resumed moving, quickly. Ashyn followed, her gaze fixed on her sister. Four men surrounded them. Daigo was at Moria's side, while Gavril stood with his back to her, their blades raised as they faced off against the raiders.

  "Give us the girl," a man said. "And we'll let you live."

  The words came from a fifth man, one Ashyn saw only now. He stood off to the side, well out of the fight. The slave trader.

  Gavril didn't even acknowledge the offer. Moria did, saying, "I'll let you all live, if you return my sister."

  "Take them!" the slave trader shouted, and the raiders surged forward.

  Ronan raced up the stream gully onto clearer ground. Ashyn could barely even see the fighters; they seemed a seething mass of dark forms and flashing metal, their clangs of steel mingling with Daigo's snarls. Every now and then, though, she'd catch a glimpse of Moria and Gavril, still back-to-back as they fought.