“Someone’s a little excited,” Henrik said.
“Are we aiming at the tree again?” Stein asked.
“Yes, but don’t do anything quite yet.”
After I closed my eyes, I let instinct take over. My bo staff warmed, and I felt something reach out toward the other Krigers’ weapons. It found them, wrapping around the ax and bow as if joining hands together.
Henrik cursed. My eyes flew open. Both men stared at me in shock.
“Did you feel that?” I asked.
Stein’s arms shook as he lowered his bow and replaced the arrow in his quiver.
“I’m not sure what you did,” Henrik said, “but my ax warmed, and the power inside of it responded to something.”
“Excellent.” I hadn’t been imagining it. “Instead of trying to aim your power toward the intended target, you need to allow your power to seek the other Krigers’ weapons.”
“If I aim my power toward the other Krigers’ weapons, won’t I end up striking them down?” Henrik asked.
“I don’t think so,” I replied.
Henrik laughed. “Are you willing to chance it?”
I glanced at Stein; he remained quiet. Although my power had connected to their weapons, I hadn’t felt any sort of control or ability to focus the power beyond that. I was fairly certain that once we joined together, we could still use our weapons and the power as intended. Otherwise, what was the point? “I’m willing to chance it. What about you?”
Henrik chuckled. “If you’re game, so am I. Stein?”
“I’d like to think about it before we attempt to forge that sort of connection. I don’t want to hurt anyone.” He turned and started to leave the area.
“Where are you going?” I called after him.
“For a walk.” He headed deeper into the forest.
“How long was he in the dungeon?” I asked Henrik.
“Two years. Morlet killed Stein’s family in front of him, and then tossed him in a cell. He’s had a real hard go of it.”
“So many of us have lost loved ones because of the king.” I shoved the image of my dying father out of my mind, unable to allow myself to feel the pain right then.
“Yeah. Stein talks about his sister a lot. She was your age when the king beheaded her.”
“I’m going to find Stein,” I told Henrik. “I want to make sure he’s okay.” While going the direction Stein had gone, I came across a group of Krigers practicing with Anders.
“Any luck?” Anders asked.
“A little.”
He folded his arms. “Where are you headed?”
“To check on Stein.” Not giving him a chance to respond, I continued. About a hundred yards to the north, I stumbled upon Stein sitting cross-legged on a mossy rock, his bow lying on his lap, his quiver still strapped to his back.
“Want some company?” I asked.
His shoulders stiffened. “I was hoping that deer would have come closer.”
“What deer?”
“Precisely. You frightened it away.”
“Sorry.” I sat next to him on the rock. I wanted to tell him my family was also dead. That I understood loss and pain. Instead, I said, “We’ll figure out how to link together, and we’ll end this.” My voice sounded firm and stronger than I felt.
Stein’s grip on his bow tightened, his knuckles turning white. “It was almost easier in the dungeon,” he said. “In there, hope didn’t exist. But out here, in this beautiful forest, I can’t help but imagine killing Morlet, ending the curse, and experiencing true freedom.” He turned and looked at me. “I want to fight, and I want to win. I’m ready to try linking powers again.”
A searing pain exploded in my head, and I tumbled off the rock.
I stood in an empty cabin, everything around me appearing blurry. My legs gave out, and I crumpled to the floor. Rolling onto my back, I searched for Morlet. He was nowhere in sight.
Something yanked my body into the wood flooring, and I shrieked. Darkness surrounded me as I sank below the cabin and melted into the moist dirt, the ground around me shaking.
Whispers filled my ears, uttering words I’d never heard before. Dirt invaded my lungs, and blue light burst all around me. Something wanted me. Something deep within the world.
“Kaia?” Stein frantically asked, hovering above me.
My eyes flew open, and I found myself back in the forest. “What happened?”
“You cried out and fell over,” he said. “Are you sick? You’re shaking, and your forehead is covered with sweat.”
“I’m just dizzy from using my power earlier,” I lied, not wanting to reveal I could communicate with Morlet through a dream-like state. Although, I wasn’t sure what had just happened. Usually when Morlet and I connected, I could see him, hear him, and feel him as if it were really happening. However, this time, I hadn’t seen Morlet. So if he had truly communicated with me just now, where had he been? Whose voices had I heard? And if it wasn’t the king, then who was it… and what did they want?
“Come on,” Stein said. “I’ll walk you back to the cave.” He swung his bow over his shoulder and clutched my elbow, leading the way.
✧
I sat beside the fire, forcing myself to eat.
“Stein told me what happened earlier today,” Anders said, sitting next to me. “Morlet?”
“Yes,” I said, setting my food down. It was the only reasonable explanation.
“But you weren’t asleep? How did he manage to connect to you?”
Normally when Morlet sought me out while I was awake, my head pounded, it felt like feathers brushed over my skin, and I became dizzy. I hadn’t experienced any of that this time.
“No, I wasn’t asleep. I did communicate with him once when I was awake. However, I was the one to initiate it that time, not him.”
“I’ll place my bedroll next to yours tonight. If you toss and turn, I’ll wake you.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Without the medallion, it is. I promised your father I’d watch over you.”
And my father promised me to Vidar. “I don’t need your help.”
“You’re getting it, whether you want it or not.”
I stood and went to my bedroll at the back of the cave, away from everyone else.
The last thing I needed right now was Anders lying beside me all night long. There had to be a way to get past my feelings for him. The most important thing was ending the curse and defeating Morlet. Nothing, especially something as trivial as attraction, desire, or love, could get in the way. I would do my duty. After all, it was the reason I was born.
When I crawled under my covers, I peered over at Anders, still sitting next to the fire. His eyes flickered to mine, and I quickly looked away.
✧
I stood in the middle of the empty cabin. Why was I here again? What was the significance of this place? The walls felt constricting, and the windows revealed the dark night sky. A low fire burned in the hearth, warming the chilly room. In one of the shadowy corners, something shifted, and a caped figure glided forward. Relief and dread filled me. Since Morlet was here, this wasn’t another inexplicable incident like earlier. However, when facing him, I had to be prepared for his volatile mood swings. No matter what, I couldn’t look into his eyes. If I did, he could control me with his magic.
“You have been avoiding me,” Morlet purred. “But I easily connected with you tonight. Is your beloved Vidar and his precious medallion gone?”
I refused to respond. The less he knew about Vidar, the better.
Morlet chuckled. “You’re awfully quiet. So unlike you.” He strode in a circle around me. “Did you receive my message?”
My eyebrows drew together in confusion. Had the incident earlier today been a message?
“The villages,” the king clarified. “I’ve been burning them with the hope you’d come begging me to stop.” His words cascaded together like a song. I forced my eyes to remain focused on the ground as he stepped in
front of me.
“When I come to you,” I said, “it will be with my fellow Krigers. We’ll be there to kill you, not bargain with you.” Fury flowed into me, and, against my better judgment, I glanced up at Morlet.
He tilted his head. Light shone on his face, illuminating his sapphire eyes sparkling in amusement. A tingly sensation brushed over me, followed by an intense desire to kiss him. I forced my eyes to look down at my boots, and the feeling passed.
Morlet chuckled. “Are you going to stand by while I destroy the kingdom piece by piece? While I have the children herded into pens, so I can burn their flesh off? Are you that heartless?”
I balled my hands into fists, wanting to knock some sense into him. How could he be so cruel? He was the one torturing and killing people, not me. Yet, somehow, I knew he didn’t want to do those things—that the good in him was horrified by his actions. Unfortunately, the evil Heks magic in him dominated, and it was in control.
Wanting to change the subject, I asked, “Did you contact me earlier today?”
“No. Tell me what happened.”
I peered up at him, but his face was once again concealed in the shadow of his hood. “I was in this cabin,” I said. “You weren’t here. Then I was pulled through the floor.”
He glided to the window, peering into the dark forest. “Things are changing,” he murmured.
“What do you mean?”
“Magic must always be in balance.”
Fear cascaded through me. Had the balance of power been thrown off when I killed Skog Heks to save Anders’s life while freeing the Krigers from the dungeon? What would happen to restore that balance?
Morlet returned to me, circling like a predator. The hairs on the back of my neck rose, but I forced myself to remain rooted in place.
“For all your high-and-mighty speeches about the sanctity of life,” he snarled, “you didn’t have a problem killing in the tunnels. How many of my soldats did you murder? They were men with families. Much like your own father.” He stopped at my side. Leaning in close, he whispered, “How did it feel when he died? Stabbed in the chest.”
I turned and shoved him. “Get away from me,” I screamed. “It’s your fault he’s dead!” I raised my arms to shove Morlet again, but his magic took hold of my arms, freezing them midair.
“I’m not the one who killed your father. He wasn’t supposed to be in the mines. You are responsible for his death. You,” he spat. “Not me.” He waved his hand and freed my arms.
My shoulders hunched forward with the weight of his words. Papa was dead because of me. He went into the tunnels to protect me from the King’s Army, so Anders and I could make it to the dungeon to free the Krigers. Only, we’d been ambushed. My father killed himself to give Anders and me the chance to get away. The anger drained from my body, replaced by grief.
“How did it feel to watch the life drain from him?” Morlet relentlessly asked.
The memory was too painful, too vivid, and too fresh. The knife raising and plunging into Papa, the light fading from his eyes. It might as well have been me who killed him. Tears rolled down my cheeks. “No one deserves to watch someone they love die,” I said. “It’s cruel.”
“For once, I agree with you. It changes you, doesn’t it?” he asked, his voice softer, almost a whisper.
“Yes,” I replied. “And now, my family is gone. I have nothing, no one.” I wrapped my arms around my torso, curling into myself. Vidar and Anders told me that they, along with the Krigers, were my family now. I could count on and trust them. Somehow, it wasn’t the same.
“You have Vidar,” Morlet pointed out.
I didn’t want to tell him I was only marrying Vidar because we had to have a child together. Admitting I didn’t love him seemed wrong.
Morlet reached out and gently touched my shoulder, sending a slow ebb of soothing warmth into me. “I, too, was all alone after my family and the girl I loved were murdered.”
“What happened?” I asked, peering under his hood to see his face. I’d never learned what became of the girl he intended to marry.
He moved away from me and stood before the hearth. The dancing fire cast long shadows on the walls. “I have no desire to relive the painful memories of the past,” he said, his voice deflated. “My parents and Linnea are buried and shall remain that way.”
Goose bumps covered my flesh. Linnea? I’d heard that name before.
He spun around and faced me. “If you don’t want to watch the life drain from your fellow Krigers, along with your precious Vidar and that damned assassin, you need to come to me.”
“You know I can’t do that.”
He shrugged. “Haven’t you seen enough death? Because, my dear Kaia, death is coming for those you love and care about. Of that you can be certain.”
He took a menacing step toward me, his cape billowing around him. If only the curse had been cast differently—if only there were a way to rid Morlet of the dark magic, returning him to being Espen, a good and kind man—but it seemed there was no use to hope for what wasn’t. I opened my mouth to say something when the walls blurred, the floor morphing into water. “What’s going on?” I demanded.
Morlet’s forehead creased in confusion. He spoke, but I couldn’t hear him. The water quickly filled the cabin, covering my face.
My eyes flew open. The Krigers were scattered throughout the cave, every single one of them sleeping. Sitting up, I wiped my face, sweat dripping down my forehead.
Why had my encounter with Morlet ended that way? Usually, he severed our contact—it didn’t end of its own accord. I thought over everything Morlet had said when I laid back down. One thing in particular kept nagging at me.
Growing up, I only had a handful of books—ones Papa managed to acquire from neighbors or friends. He considered them our most valuable property. I remembered one in particular. Papa kept it hidden under the floorboards in our apartment. The book was an old, tattered thing, the writing barely legible, and the pages worn thin. The details of the story were foggy, but the main character had a unique name—one that stood out. One I’d never heard used until a few moments ago when Morlet uttered it—Linnea.
“How did you sleep?” Anders asked, handing me a bowl of porridge and sitting by my side.
Taking it, I moved the mush around with the included spoon, not really hungry. I wanted to tell him I’d slept horribly—which he should have known since he supposedly slept next to me.
“Morlet communicated with you, didn’t he?” Anders rubbed a hand over his tired face.
“Yes. It’s no big deal, though.” Most of the Krigers huddled near the fire, conversing while they ate their breakfast. Since I sat on my bedroll, no one was close enough to overhear my conversation with Anders.
“Your face suggests otherwise,” he mumbled.
“Where were you?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” He shoved a large spoonful of porridge into his mouth and averted his eyes.
“You were supposed to rouse me if I tossed and turned.” Last night had been one of the longest times I’d spoken to Morlet. “I woke up, and you weren’t there.”
“I stepped outside to relieve myself,” he replied.
I wasn’t sure I believed him, but why would he lie to me? I didn’t want to argue with him right now, not when I had to ask him for a favor. “There’s something in my apartment that I want.” I couldn’t sneak into the capital on my own. Without the medallion, Morlet could sense my presence. In order to make this happen, I needed Anders’s help.
“What is it?” he asked, taking another bite of food.
He didn’t have to know about the book yet. Not until I was certain it meant something or there was some sort of connection to Morlet. “An heirloom from my father.”
“Okay.”
“You’ll go with me?” No fight? No argument? No barrage of questions?
“Yes,” he said, taking another bite of food. “Once Vidar returns, we’ll go.”
“Thank you.�
�� I sat up a bit straighter. That had been… too easy.
“We’re friends,” he said, not looking me in the eyes. “I’m happy to help in any way I can.” He abruptly stood. “Hurry and finish eating. We have a long day of training ahead of us.” He turned and left without another word.
I stared at his retreating back, wishing I knew what he was truly thinking. Did he honestly only care for me as a friend? Was that all we could ever be to one another? At least he was willing to go with me to the capital. Not only did I need his cunning skill to sneak in and make it past the soldats, but I also needed him there for moral support. Without Anders, there was no way I could enter my childhood home now that my father was dead.
✧
Standing in a circle with Henrik and Stein, I allowed my power to connect with my bo staff. “Are the two of you ready?”
Henrik lifted his ax and nodded while Stein nocked an arrow.
“All right. I’ll go first.” I allowed a hint of power to leave the right end of my weapon, directing it toward Stein’s bow. Doing the same to the left end, I sent a sliver to Henrik’s ax. “Can either of you feel anything?”
“I do,” Stein muttered. “My weapon is warm.”
“Mine is vibrating,” Henrik said.
“Stein, release your power to mine.”
He closed his eyes. Invisible feathers brushed against my skin, and then my bo staff warmed. “I feel it.”
“Me too,” Henrik added.
“Your turn, Henrik,” Stein said, his voice strained, beads of sweat coating his forehead.
“Hopefully, I don’t hurt either of you,” Henrik grumbled.
“Just let out the tiniest bit of power,” I suggested. He was directing the power to our weapons, and not our bodies, so we should be okay.
Henrik pointed his ax at me. A jolt slammed into my body, and I stumbled, losing my connection to the weapons.
“Way too much,” Stein growled, rushing to my side.
“You’re not supposed to aim it at me,” I panted, clutching my hands to my chest. It felt as if my palms had grabbed a burning log.
“Oops,” Henrik said, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “What about you, Stein? Are you okay?”
Burning Shadows Page 3
