“Watch out for their magic,” I warned, and charged at the two attackers in front of me, my skirt trailing in my wake.
I didn’t spare the men behind me a glance, only hoped they’d engaged the third shadowman fast enough that they weren’t blown away.
My sword bounced from one black blade to the other, a fury of steel and shimmering air. My ring burned with the magic I absorbed as I tried to keep these two from using more of it against me or my unlikely fighting companions.
The ring of clashing swords from the other fight stopped suddenly. “Where did he go?” the boy shouted.
I couldn’t chance a look back. My lungs heaved, trying to keep enough air in them as I parried strike after strike from the shadowmen. They were faster now that the third had disintegrated, and attacked relentlessly, pressing closer.
And then the two men were with me, drawing my opponents’ attention away. The older man went around the right side, trying to draw one off.
“No!” I shouted.
I was too late. The shadowman lifted his hand, and the man flew back with a cry, landing with a thud and rolling in the grass near the edge of the meadow.
But he’d distracted the nearest shadowman, and I flicked my sword through his belly. His black blade thumped against the grass.
One left.
The boy stayed close to me, behind the protection of my ring. We moved like we’d fought together for years, reading each other’s moves and adjusting as a unit. Something about his method struck a familiar chord. But I couldn’t give it much thought, as this enemy fought in a fury of steel and shadow. Too fast for either of us to best.
Even two against one, we wouldn’t win. Not like this.
The boy, almost reading my mind, eased away to our opponent’s weaker side. The shadowman turned to release his magic, and I stretched to catch what I could. The boy ducked, but the shadowman had turned back to me. His blade swung while I was off balance, and I twisted to avoid the blow. My ankle wobbled, and I fell. A stinging pain shot through my stomach, but I’d distracted the shadowman enough for the boy to heave his sword through its neck.
The figure disintegrated like the others, its black blade falling to the ground.
The boy stood with his sword still raised, sweat trickling down the side of his face. The sun above him sent white spots through my vision, and I put my arm over my eyes.
He turned to where his companion had fallen. “Luc, are you—”
“I’m fine,” the man wheezed.
A bee buzzed somewhere overhead, and a blade of grass tickled my cheek. Taking slow, deep breaths as the stinging in my stomach spread, I watched the boy from under my arm.
He reached for the black blade still shining in the grass.
“Don’t touch it,” I said, then groaned as a wave of nausea hit me.
He jerked his hand away. The sword dissolved. “Cavolo,” he muttered under his breath, then knelt by my side.
Everything hurt, especially breathing. But the shivery dread was gone, at least.
Warm hands cradled my shoulders to help me sit up. A sharp pain lanced through my stomach, and I gasped. I hadn’t been cut that deeply. Why did it hurt so hideously?
Fabric shifted, and I felt my skin exposed to the cool air. I forced my eyes open and tried to inhale slowly as the boy gently pressed his finger near the wound. I pushed his hand away and tugged my shirt down.
“It doesn’t look very deep.” His gentle voice rolled softly over me. He wore what I assumed was a uniform—dark trousers, tall boots, and a loose shirt under a tan tunic that was more like a vest.
“I’m fine—it’s just a scratch.” My voice came out as a raspy growl. An icy pain began to radiate from the wound. I shook the fog from my mind and eased myself to kneeling, tugging Irena’s skirt into place.
He sat back on his heels. “I’m only trying to help.”
“Why?” I asked. “I stole your horse.”
“I remember,” he said, face carefully blank.
“Who are you?” I leaned to the side and sheathed my sword. The way we’d fought together…he seemed familiar, but I knew I’d never met him. I would have remembered.
He didn’t answer, but stood instead and called out to his friend. “Still breathing, then?”
I scooted a bit farther away. Had he heard the announcement in the square? The ice in my stomach gripped me tighter.
The other man, Luc he’d called him, rolled his eyes and rubbed his chest. “Like you could get rid of me that easily.” He kicked through the grass until he found his sword, then hobbled over with a wary eye darting between us. “I think I cracked a few ribs.”
The boy stood and whistled for his horse. “This would have gone a lot differently if you hadn’t stayed…,” He waited for my name.
“Aleinn,” I whispered. My chest tightened, but it was the name I’d decided to go by until I was ready to meet the mage again. I’d made a mistake giving Irena a shortened version of my real name, and I didn’t want anyone to trace me back to Irena if I could help it. Now, every time someone said Aleinn’s name, I’d remember her sacrifice and my purpose. “And yours?”
“I’m Luc, and that’s Teren,” his companion blurted out.
Teren snapped his mouth shut on whatever he had been about to say, and Luc glared at him, an entire conversation passing in the space of a few blinks. When it seemed they’d made some sort of decision, Teren reached his hand out to pull me up.
I hesitated a long moment before accepting. My skin sparked where we touched, and I swayed. His other hand went to my waist, steadying me until the black spots in my vision cleared. The spark only intensified the longer his skin made contact with mine.
Luc cleared his throat, and Teren stepped away with his brow furrowed.
Wait. They were in uniform. A war had just been announced. Against Hálendi.
“Right, well, thank you both for your help,” I said as I circled around them toward my bag and sweater. I did not need to be keeping company with Turian soldiers. The scarf around my hair itched with sweat.
Both men watched me, faces inscrutable, but they didn’t try to stop me as I passed them, and my breath released in a slow sigh. Until they started following.
“What were those cursed things?” Teren asked Luc, staying a step behind me.
“Do I look like a walking library?” Luc answered, shoving his sword into its sheath. He whistled loud and long, mimicking Teren’s whistle from before. “Where are those maledetto horses?”
I slung my satchel over my shoulder and tied Irena’s sweater around my sheath once again. Teren’s eyes followed my movements, lingering on my sword. Or maybe my legs—I wasn’t sure which. I ignored him and started walking back toward the road.
“Wait!” Teren called.
Branches snapped and birds quieted as something crashed through the forest, getting closer with every step. My hand went around my sword like it was moving through mud. But it was only their horses that trotted into the meadow—the one I’d stolen from Teren, and Luc’s. The third, which Teren had ridden to chase after me, was nowhere to be seen.
They mounted their horses and walked them forward so they were blocking my path. I stopped, hands on my hips.
“We need to leave this meadow before something else finds us.” Teren offered his hand again while Luc watched the outskirts of the bosco, where shadows danced under the trees.
My strength was leaching slowly out of me, seeping into the ground, but I said, “No, thank you. I’ll continue on my own.”
But when I tried to go around, Teren moved his horse to block my path once more. He dismounted, though Luc looked ready to strangle him.
“You’re injured. We can take you to the best healer in the kingdom.”
“I’ll—” I swallowed and tried again. “I’ll just go back to t
he village.”
“I wouldn’t go there right now if I were you,” he said with a glance at my hair. So they did know about the war. And that I wasn’t Turian.
Luc glared at Teren. “We need to go.”
Yes, please go, I urged in my mind.
“I’m not leaving her here,” Teren said.
Luc’s eyebrows raised. “I wasn’t suggesting that.” A dark undertone laced the words. He glared my way like he was ready to tie me up and toss me over his horse if I held them up much longer.
Teren was right; I needed a healer. My hand rested on the hilt of my sword, but I wasn’t sure I had the strength to draw it. And since they were in uniform, there was a chance they could get me into the palace. I wanted to get into the palace. Just not into the dungeon. Ice spread through my veins, pulsing out from the cut in my stomach.
First, the healer. I’d just have to be careful. My lips pressed together, and I nodded.
Teren looked like he still wanted to help me mount his horse, but I shook my head and settled into the saddle myself. My skirt had enough folds to cover my legs if I was cautious how I sat, but I missed my trousers desperately.
Teren mounted behind me, and my heart jumped at the close contact. I sat stiffly, the ice inside me spreading faster, as if battling the heat from his chest. He nudged his tired horse forward and shifted in the saddle. Maybe he was as uncomfortable as me.
“Lean back. If something else decides to chase us, we may need to run for it.”
My arms and shoulders, my back, every place that touched him, ignited a new spark beneath my skin, but I tried to relax. I still didn’t know why they were helping me, but as my thoughts swirled in my head like a blizzard, I decided I needed help more than I needed to know their motives.
Luc spoke from ahead. “Let’s find that healer.”
“There’s another village due south of here,” Teren said. “Let’s see how far away we can get.”
The words were innocent enough, but something about the way he said them had me wishing I’d had the strength to refuse their offer.
There’s a man next to me on his horse, shadows blurring his face. He points to my left. I try to look, but my neck is stiff. My hands and legs are numb. I can’t even blink.
The man grabs my head and turns it until I see a figure in a billowing gray cloak on the road ahead. My heart fills with dread.
I’ve been here before. On this road.
Except this time is infinitely worse. The figure in gray holds Ren in front of him with a knife pressed to his throat.
But that isn’t right. Ren shouldn’t be here. He’s in North Watch. Dead. I try to call out to him, to draw my sword, anything, but I can’t move.
Ren smiles and whispers in the grating voice of the mage behind him, “I’m coming for you.”
And then the mage slits Ren’s throat.
I gasped and forced my eyelids open, taking shallow breaths. Two shadowed eyes hovered above me. I tried to scramble away, but an arm tightened around my waist. I closed my eyes and pushed against the arm, but my vision was filled with Ren’s spilled blood. My body began to shake.
“It was a nightmare. It’s okay,” a deep voice said. “Careful, or you’ll open your wound.”
I blinked the fog out of my eyes and found Teren’s emerald eyes staring back. I gasped, trying to catch my breath. Ice ran through my veins. He rubbed my arm in a soothing motion, and I was momentarily distracted by his warm hand. He was lying right beside me.
“Aleinn…”
My eyes snapped up to his before I remembered that was the name I’d given him. His voice was gentle as he whispered, “You’re safe now.”
I let his words wash over me as I took in the rest of our surroundings. We were in a cottage very much like Irena’s. Except the other man, Luc, lay on the floor at the base of the pile of blankets Teren and I were on.
Everything clicked into place. The meadow. The shadowmen. The ice in my wound.
I groaned and tried to sit up, to move away again, but Teren held my shoulder down.
I swatted at his hand, and he leaned away, hands open, palms toward me. “You need to stay still, or the bandage will shift and expose the wound.” He lifted a shoulder. “If it doesn’t stay shut, I’ll have to stitch it, and sewing is not my best talent.”
I grimaced and let my head fall back onto the pile of blankets attempting to be a bed. Cris had gotten stitches on his arm once when we were younger, and I’d watched. I did not want to go through that.
When he saw I wasn’t going to bolt, Teren propped his head up in his hand like being this close to me didn’t bother him at all. His shirt was open and loose at the collar—very different from the high-collared tunics in Hálendi. In shadows and highlights, the moonlight set off the strong line of his neck, his collarbone, and a triangle of chest. I had definitely never been this close to a man other than my brother and my father, and he was…strangely warm.
“I…What are you doing here?” I asked when he continued studying me like I was studying him.
“The blade was poisoned. You passed out, and we stopped, but by then the cut was ringed in white, with green spreading—”
“That sounds lovely,” I said, wrinkling my nose. He laughed. “But I meant, what are you doing in this bed?” I raised my eyebrows and glanced at Luc by our feet.
He had the nerve to scoot closer. My freezing body was drawn to his heat, and it took all my willpower not to lean into him.
“Wintergrain root counteracts most poison, but works better when you’re warm—the blood flows faster, taking the antidote to more of the body quicker.” Then his voice changed, hardened. “Our kind hosts couldn’t spare a log for a fire in these harsh springtime temperatures.”
The cold fireplace lay empty in a side wall, near a battered door on uneven hinges, which led to another room. Looking closer, I saw that this cottage wasn’t like Irena’s well-kept home after all. Teren retrieved a small bowl from the floor.
“May I—” He swallowed hard enough his throat bobbed. “I should put more wintergrain on your wound.”
I tensed but nodded. He had already done it once. He helped me sit up, and I lifted my shirt just high enough to uncover the bandages. His long fingers brushed my skin as he pulled the wrapping down, and I shivered at the contact.
He jerked back. “Sorry, did I—”
“It’s…f-fine. I’m fine,” I stammered.
He blew out a long breath, then gently moved the cloth and scraped away the old root. I clenched the blanket in my fists, trying to remain still. He paused, staring at the scratches from the wolf, but he didn’t ask about them.
When he put the new salve on, I sucked in a breath at the soothing sensation.
“Did that hurt?”
“No,” I sighed.
He chuckled and tore a small strip off the blanket, folding it over my wound.
He hesitated. “Um, hold this here,” he said, moving my hand to press on the folded bit on my stomach. I stiffened as his arms went around me to wrap the bandage, and I noticed again how loose his collar was. A shirt like that would leave you with a cold neck in Hálendi. But here, it was…nice.
“Are you a healer?” I asked.
He set the bowl on the ground and helped me ease back. Instead of lying next to me, he stayed sitting and pulled his knees up. I already missed the heat from his body, though Luc provided a warm spot by my feet.
“No,” Teren said. “But I have studied under the best healer in the kingdom.” The moonlight filtered in from behind him, so I could see only his dark, wavy hair and the bare outline of his features.
“Well, thank you for not sewing me up, then. I’d rather have a real healer do it.”
He snorted, and I chuckled at the sound, then moaned at the tightness in my stomach.
“Let’s c
all it even. We’d never have survived against those things and their shimmering waves in the meadow. What were you doing in Teano, anyway?”
His hands draped loosely around his knees, but he watched my reaction closely. For a moment, I’d been just a girl, and he’d been a boy interested in me for me—not for my position, not for my brother’s title. It all came back, though. Uniforms, war, mages. Secrets. Death. Heaviness settled over my limbs. And what had he meant by “shimmering waves”?
“Aleinn?”
I flinched at the sound of her name on his lips.
When I didn’t answer, Teren reached down again, this time for a smaller bowl of liquid. “Here, drink this.”
I hesitated. “What is it?”
“Now you’re worried about being poisoned?” His teeth glinted in the dim light as he laughed softly. “It’s only water. Promise.”
Teren held out the bowl with a questioning look, as if he knew I was considering my answer to his previous question. I sat up only on my elbow and took it, grateful for the interruption but not letting my fingers linger against his. I sipped the cool water and used the time to settle my mind.
“I was traveling to Turiana to visit a friend.” Or a betrothed. I shivered, and a bit of liquid sloshed over the side. He took the bowl and helped me ease back again, and I was a little out of breath from the exertion and from his touch at the nape of my neck.
“Have you fought those things before?” he said. “You seemed to catch its magic with your hand….”
I jerked up again. “My sword—where is it?” My skirt was twisted around my legs, but I patted its folds until I found Ren’s book.
“It’s here.” He lifted a bundle from the floor next to him. “I kept it close so our hosts wouldn’t steal it in the night,” he grumbled.
“And my bag?” I questioned as I took my sword from his outstretched hand, feeling some of my strength return just from holding it. The strips were still wrapped around the stone in the hilt.
Shielded Page 16
